Meeting in Smoky Places
“Let’s start with Erich von Stroheim,” said Muriel Breit. By that time her office was nice and smoky from the cigarettes she and Bernie were smoking; also a bottle of bourbon had appeared. “He came from Vienna where he claimed to be from the Austrian nobility. In fact, his background was Jewish and middle class.” Jewish? What was that again? Wasn’t quite able to come up with it, but for some reason I found myself thinking of the Berkowitz divorce case, one of our very worst. We hate divorce work, me and Bernie, and we hated the Berkowitz divorce the worst. “He was one of the best directors of the silent era, and was also an actor,” Muriel said. “Ever seen Sunset Boulevard?”
“The pictures got smaller,” Bernie said.
Muriel gazed at him for a moment, then started laughing, don’t ask me why. Laughing turned to hacking. Bernie pounded on her back. “Oh, Bernie,” she said, gasping for breath – always scary when humans did that. “You’re full of surprises.”
“That’s been my downfall,” Bernie said. That made Muriel laugh again. And then more hacking. Enough. I went into another room, which turned out to be the kitchen. And what did I see on the counter?
Plus: What day is it? Elvis Gospel day!
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