Word: vanillaism
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...room, and not be seen again for four days. Raised in Brooklyn, he had "about 40" jobs (bouncer, ice-cream vendor, hairdresser) before launching his record career in 1964 with a hit song that he wrote in twelve minutes (Walking in the Sand). Now he produces the Vanilla Fudge, the New York Rock & Roll Ensemble and Janis Ian (Society's Child), is training three protégés at his own commune-style firm on Long Island. An autocrat in the studio, he does his own arranging and most of his engineering, proclaims: "I am the greatest producer...
...director-husband Frank (who made David and Lisa) have done so by turning the gothic into the baroque. A little boy cannot be a symbol of innocence by himself; he must be playing a pipe like Pan. To give Merrill's mental anguish an exterior, a vanilla-colored, bikini-clad girl companion is added. To increase the audience's anguish, Merrill is made to out his hand on her stomach and quote The Song of Solomon: "Thy belly is like an heap of wheat." The line is difficult enough for any actor to recite, but Lancaster here...
...theatre's lobby. On the other hand, the much heralded ice cream parlor in the lobby is quite another matter. For 65 cents, you can make your own sundaes. So there you are. A Man for All Seasons finally reaches intermission. Quick, Harry, get into that line. Uh, vanilla, please. But Harry, I'm allergic to that strawberry sauce. Pardon me, sir, but I didn't mean to spill the chocolate. Helen, really, is it my fault if there are only four tables, can't you stand? And so with only five minutes of intermission remaining, you must gorge yourself...
...Everything's Changing. . . or Maybe It Isn't" is a visual and sound montage juxtaposing outspoken opinions on love, religion, drugs and war with the sights and sounds of popular music and dance. Interviews with the Jefferson Airplane, The Mamas and The Papas and the Vanilla Fudge...
...Deer Park, explains De Gramont, was devoted to rather small-scale lechery-"more of a tired businessman's retreat than a royal orgy-house." Worse, Madame de Pompadour was, by Louis' testimony, cold as a coot, though she plied herself with aphrodisiacs of hot chocolate laced with vanilla, truffles and celery soup. She spent most of her energies keeping official appointments and answering as many as 60 letters a day. Her rewards were the unglamorous ailments of the busy executive-insomnia, headaches, poor digestion-none of which responded to the usual bad medical advice of the times...