I haven't found the thread I'm looking for, but I found this, an interesting
moment in the Ellison legend, the day he met Frank Sinatra:
From: Robert Fiore (***@pacbell.net)
Subject: The Sinatra Story at Last
View: Complete Thread (2 articles)
Original Format
Newsgroups: alt.fan.harlan-ellison
Date: 1997/01/31
Many longtime Ellison watchers will recall references in blurbs to a
confrontation HE had with Frank Sinatra in the 1960s, which was
documented in an Esquire article by Gay Talese. Few of you will have
had the chance to read the article -- unless you can get the latest
issue of the L.A. Weekly, which reprints it. Here in its entirety, with
apologies for any mistyping of Talese's words, to say nothing of the
copyright violation, is the anecdote:
___________________________
The room cracked with the clack of billiard balls. There were
about a dozen spectators inthe room, most of themyoung men who were
watching Leo Durocher shoot against two other aspiring hustlers who were
not very good. This private drinking club has among its membership many
actors, directors, writers, models, nearly all of them a good deal
younger than Sinatra or Durocher and mcuh more casual in teh way they
dress for the evening. Many of the young women, their long hair flowing
loosely below their shoulders, wore tight, fannyfitting Jax pants and
very expensive sweaters; and a few of the young men wore blue or green
velour shirts with high collars, and narrow tight pants and Italian
loafers.
It was obvious from the way SInatra looked at these people in
the poolroom that they were not his style, but he leaned back against a
high stool that was against the wall, holding his drink in his right
hand, and said nothing, just watched Durocher slam the billiard balls
back and forth. The younger men in the room, accutomed to seeing
Sinatra at this club, treated him without deference, although they said
nothing offensive. They were a very cool young group, very
California-cool and causal, and one of the coolest seemed to be a little
guy, very quick of movement, who had a sharp profile, pale blue eyes,
light brown hair and squared eyeglasses. He wore a pair of brown
coruroy slacks, a green shaggy-dog Shetland sweater, a tan suede jacket,
and Game Warden boots, for which he had recently paid $60.
Frank Sinatra, leaning against the stool, sniffing a bit from
his cold, could not take his eyes off the Game Warden boots. Once,
after gazing at them for a few moments, he turned away; but now he was
focused on them again. The owner of the boots, who was just standing in
them watching the pool game, was named Harlan Ellison, a writer who had
just completed work on a screenplay, The Oscar.
Finally, Sinatra could not contain himself.
"Hey," he yelled in his slightly harsh voice that still had a
soft, sharp edge. "Those Italian boots?"
"No." Ellison said.
"Spanish?"
"No."
"Are they English boots?"
"Look, I donno, man," Ellison shot back, frowning at Sinatra,
then turning away again.
Now the poolroom was suddenly silent. Leo Durocher, who had
been poised behind his cue stick and was bent low, just froze in that
position for a second. Nobody moved. Then Sinatra moved away from the
stool and walked with that slow, arrogant swagger of his toward Ellison,
the hard tap of Sinatra's shoes the only sound in the room. Then,
looking down at Ellison with a slightly raised eyebrow and a tricky
little smile, Sinatra asked: "You expecting a storm?"
Harlan Ellison moved a step to the side. "Look, is there any
reason why you're talking to me?"
"I don't like the way you're dressed," Sinatra said.
"Hate to shake you up," Ellison said, "but I dressed to suit
myself."
Now there was some rumbling in the room, and somebody said
"Com'on, Harlan, let's get out of here," and Leo Durocher made his pool
shot and said, "Yeah, com'on."
But Ellison stood his ground.
Sinatra said, "What do you do?"
"I'm a plumber," Ellison said.
"No, he's not," another young man quickly yelled from across the
table, "He wrote The Oscar."
"Oh, yeah," Sinatra said, "well I've seen it, and it's a piece
of crap."
"That's strange," Ellison said, "because they haven't even
released it yet."
"Well, I've seen it," Sinatra repeated, "and it's a piece of
crap."
Now Brad Dexter, very anxious, very big opposite the small
figure of Ellison, said, "Com'on, kid, I don't want you in this room."
"Hey," Sinatra interrupted Dexter, "can't you see I'm talking to
this guy?"
Dexter was confused, then his whole attitude changed, and
Dexter's voice went soft and he said to Ellison, almost with a plea,
"Why do you persist in tormenting me?"
The whole scene was becoming ridiculous, and it seemed that
Sinatra was only half-serious, perhaps just reacting out of sheer
boredom or inner despair; at any rate, after a few more exchanges,
Harlan Ellison left the room. By this time, the word had gotten out to
those on the dance floor about the Sinatra-Ellison exchange, and
somebody went to look for the manager of the club. But somebody else
said that the manager had already heard about it -- and had quickly gone
out of the door, hopped in his car and drove home. So the assistant
manager went into the poolroom.
"I don't want anybody in here without coats and ties," Sinatra
snapped.
The assistant manager nodded, and walked back to his office.
_________________
Thus the words of Gay Talese. Not quite the titanic
confrontation you might have imagined, but I think you'd have to say
Ellison's behavior was irreproachable. I don't see the name of the club
mentioned, but it seems to have been The Daisy -- Ellison wrote an
article about his machinations to become a member of this exclusive
private club, reprinted in The Harlan Ellison Hornbook, I believe.
Post by Jethro's Giant BrainPost by Will DockeryI'm thinking about writing a treatment, and I wondered if there were a
standard form one uses.
It's about a person who is constantly flamed on a poetry newsgroup,
and decides to murder the people making fun of him. One by one they
stop posting on usenet all because they are being murdered in places
all over the U.S., and around the world.
Any suggestions?
Jethro
I ran across a great piece [an excerpt] by Harlan Ellison last week in the
Google archives, where he goes on about various aspects of writing a
screenplay treatment... I'll dig it up later tonight when I return.
For a great read, and several examples of Ellison's treatments for the
classic Star Trek episode "City On The Edge Of Forever", order [since HE's
books don't tend to be available on the shelves that often, sadly] his book
by the same name. It's still in print, because I bought a copy last month
[through Books-A-Million]... great stuff.
Will
Thanks Will. There's a blunt with your name on it down here in Jax.
Post by Will Dockeryhttp://www.lulu.com/content/36412
http://chucklysaght.envy.nu/MyDailyRant.html