Sybil Bruncheon’s “My Merry Memoirs”… keeping busy in the Summer of 1989...

Unexpectedly (and quite annoyingly!) my plans and employment for the Summer came to a crashing end in April of 1989!... literally just a week before I was to leave for Fire Island and the little cottage set aside for my living there while I managed an adorable gourmet wine and spirits store. When my head finally cleared and I had gotten up off the ground and brushed myself off, I resolved as I often do to turn the proverbial “lemons into lemonade”… or maybe into an entire World’s Fair Pavilion based on lemons, their culture, history, heritage, and influence on all aspects of civilization! Yes, that IS hyperbole, but you get the idea.

You find, as you get older, that people sometimes screw your hopes and dreams up accidentally, innocently, and clumsily… and sometimes they do it willfully, deliberately, and even gladly… having been raised in my family, I had experienced it early… and repeatedly, so I guess, although it stung in 1989, I was somewhat inoculated you could say. So, I sat down, bruised but not broken, and doodled around with some ideas I had for a show… and I imagined a radio broadcast musical set in "a revolving ballroom" in the tower of the iconic Chrysler Building in the middle of Manhattan in 1933; an Art Deco pastiche of Busby Berkley and Florenz Ziegfeld, Harpo Marx and Bela Lugosi, corny commercials, serial mysteries, advice for the lovelorn and housewives, and new special guests changing from one week to the next. We had scenery and costumes, (and scenery and costume changes during the performances), and programs that sat like menus on the tables.

The show in all its incarnations ran for three years, first at Eighty Eights down a 228 West 10th Street in Greenwich Village, then at The Duplex in Sheridan Square, and finally at Don’t Tell Mama in the theatre district. We even printed T-shirts and had beautifully embroiderd “show jackets” that folks clamored for… just like the Broadway shows!

We could never have done it without the talents of Bob Gutowski, Michael McQuary, Jay Rogers, Jeffrey Wallach, Tom Stoehr, Stephen Borsuk, John Sheehan, Virginia Farley, the backing of Michael Margulies and Carl Smith, and the support of Karen Miller, Maggie Cullen, Rochelle Seldin, Shawn Moninger, Matt Berman, James Takos, Marty Santoro, and the love and endless sacrifice of my partner Rick Cook. Some of these wonderful people are gone now as the AIDS crisis and life’s careless whimsies took their toll. But at that time, it was, for all intents and purposes, the first “cabaret show” done in an accredited cabaret house performed with all the amenities and accessories of an actual theatrical play… ah, good times… good times.

(Cast photo by Barbara Nitke)

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Sybil Bruncheon’s “My Merry Memoirs”… Easter 1986.

The New York Native, a weekly paper published in New York City. And there I was as their Easter season model for gifts and treats!! .....(um, yes, I got carried away when they pulled out the chocolates! But they hadn't fed any of the crew lunch!!...... bastards!)

(Photos and article by William Cullum) (Sybil’s gown by Cliff Boone and Morrie Breyer of A.Q.U.A.)

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Sybil Bruncheon's 31 Days of Halloween!... October 29th, 2012… Lights OUT!!!

October 29th, 2012... After closing up our little place at the beach for the Winter, I had taken the last ferry out of Cherry Grove on Fire Island to Sayville, Long Island and rushed back to the NYC as Hurricane Sandy bore down on the Northeast. We lived on West 10th and Washington Street down in Greenwich Village with "a view of the world"!... all the way from the West 50s to the Chrysler and Empire State buildings, across to the Con Ed building on the far East side and down to Chinatown, Little Italy, and around to the World Trade Center and New Jersey... a view that you might have in a helicopter or if you were a billionaire! I had just gotten back to the city and stood at our windows watching as the storm got stronger and more turbulent with non-stop lightning and thunder... and then, suddenly there was a blue-purple flash of the Con Ed plant over on the East River... and the stunning, stunning march of blackness as it crushed each neighborhood, block by block, from the East River towards the Hudson. I stood there amazed to see the entire southern part of Manhattan go dark, from the Empire State building down to the financial district, a few buildings of which remained lit on their own emergency power generators. As the dark hit our block, we lit candles, and hurriedly filled pots, pans, and the bath tub with water!... water that quickly began to fail as the pressure slowly gave way.

In the following days, restaurants and stores began giving away their food and perishables. We were so lucky to have had our friend Barbara Grecki house us for the following week up on Central Park West and W. 66th Street. And although Halloween was completely canceled, I had actually packed my "Headless Fairy-Princess" costume for the occasion. Golly, that Central Park crowd gives fabulous candy!!... yes, they can be so stuck-up, but you can't argue with Teuscher champagne truffles in your plastic pumpkin, can you?? JEEEESH!

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*Tour-ette from Abingdon Sq. Park in Greenwich Village! A quick trip into NYC!... and out! 4/26/2022

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Fashions by GRAFFITI on Christopher Street at Sheridan Square (1986).

Model: John Burke. (my nephew!)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "My Merry Memoirs... Bastille Day!"...

July 14th… BASTILLE DAY... I'm remembering (very fondly!) the Bastille Days I was honored to have hosted down in the "Meatpacking District" in Greenwich Village when Florent Morellet owned the iconic Restaurant Florent, an all night diner that attracted drag queens, movie stars, rock icons, artists, politicians, and millionaires. The place hopped, literally, 24 hours a day, and frankly was more animated in the middle of the night than it was during the somewhat sleepy midday lunchtimes with local businessmen… and maybe Keith Haring and a gaggle of his pals at table 11.

Florent asked me to host the "Marie Antoinette Contest" which came at the end of the 12 hour-long shows that featured brilliant downtown talent like Joey Arias, Raven O, Basil Twist, Ethel Eichelberger, and an endless array of ventriloquists, apache-dancers, accordionists, mimes, jugglers, knife-throwers, fire-eaters, mesmerists, fortune tellers, palm readers, phrenologists, daredevils, contortionists, and can-can girls.

And the next year, Florent had me emcee the entire day... a 13 hour marathon that will always remain one of my very favorite memories of my entire career. Thousands of people moved through that section of the Village as the show unfolded and the food and drink flowed at the tables both inside the restaurant and out in the open-air sidewalk cafe that was set up on the blocked off all of Gansevoort Street from Greenwich Street to Washington Street. (The steak au poivre et frites was the very best and my favorite!)

The entire staff of the restaurant was costumed accordingly and the cobblestone pavement was so perfectly evocative too with straw scattered everywhere and a guillotine set up for photo-ops! The place was a success from the day it opened in 1985 (long before the High Line was even imagined!) till it finally closed in 2008 when the Village truly became the yuppie, corporate-driven hangout of the junk-bonders, dot-com-ers, heiresses from Omaha, Carrie-Bradshaw-wanna-bes, and the rest of the 3 card monte, banking and Wall Street scam-herd. All the magic, eccentricity, creativity, and uniqueness has been replaced by Babbity, Gloria Upson pretentiousness that smells of brewskies, frat-boy aftershave, and the backseats of BMWs that have been wiped with Clorox Clean-ups... oh well. Thank you, Florent, and the entire staff of Restaurant Florent for the great food, friendship, laughter, and memories of a much more frisky, fantastical, and fabulous time!

(Sybil's gown by the Gefil Tefish Hefty Highness Hideaway)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "My Merry Memoirs"... the Palladium at Easter time...

April 19th, 1987:

It was Easter Sunday at The Palladium at 126 East 14th Street in Greenwich Village (just down from the original 19th century Luchow's Restaurant which was still standing!). "Jeffrey Sanker invites you to join the newly crowned Empress of New York, Sybil Bruncheon, for her first annual Easter Bonnet Parade. Wear your favorite bonnet and Win $500 First Prize." Look at that! ...a $500.00 first prize! Can you imagine? That was more than two month's rent for lots of folks back then. My panel of celebrity judges included John Lewis, Joan Baker, Michael Kenney, and Evelyn Blair. (...and our invitation photo was by Jack D. Pedota / AVANTOGRAPHY. Thanks to Susan Suka Taylor for styling too!!!)

There was a special guest performance, and Scott Blackwell was our DJ... and the whole thing started at 12:30 AM (which meant Steve Rubell would hold us till 1:00... or later!! Jeeeesh!) But we were paid in cash!... and whenever I did a show for Steve, he’d come up to me and say, "I loved it, kid!", and press an envelope into my hand with twice as much as he’d originally offered.. I pointed it out to him the first night of working for him, thinking he'd made a mistake, and he said, "What!?! Don't ya think ya deserve it, kid??"... and laughed! Back then, I worked for all the great party promoters, and Jeffrey Sanker was one of the best! Eventually he moved to Florida and built a huge career down there! Steve died in 1989…. And the Palladium, originally built in1927, is long gone now thanks to NY University which tore it all down in 1998 (as they're tearing down so much of Greenwich Village still). They replaced it with a giant dorm... which they named "The Palladium"… nice… that’s a great consolation. Whatever.

(Sybil photo by Jack D. Pedota. Styled by Susan Suka Taylor)

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Sybil Bruncheon's Merry Memoirs.. : Remembering BRADSHAW SMITH (April 14th, 1954- January 16th, 2012)

Bradshaw was one of my first friends in the cabaret community, which like other branches of the entertainment world has its mix of the warmhearted, the suspicious, the envious, the deceivers, the grand! Although I had emceed several one-night-only shows at major dance clubs in NYC, I had never done a regular (running!) cabaret show before 1988, and I was met with tons of skepticism and sideways glances by the "upperclassmen" when I first came onto the scene. The venue was 88s, a two-story cabaret house with a full restaurant and sing-along piano lounge on the main floor, and the sweetest, loveliest cabaret performance house upstairs. 88’s was one of the great “downtown” cabaret clubs in Greenwich Village which had a reputation for being artsy, quirky, unique, and loaded with original and off-beat talent. At the time I had decided to do a cabaret show, most of them were musical tributes or compilations; one pianist, maybe a small combo, and one singer… twelve songs, some patter, done and done. My proposal was a complete a "book" musical/improv with an actual cast, multiple costumes and changes, scenery, props, programs, and even changing guest stars from other shows who would "drop" in to do specialty numbers each week. I was producing, writing, directing, and acting in it… and even managing to put together the programs that were set up on the tables like standing “menus” as if the Café were a real restaurant… in the Art Deco tower of the Chrysler Building!

Bradshaw, from the first minute I met him and he saw what I was up to, encouraged me, introduced me to friends, and gave me ideas, support, and inspiration. That show, CAFÉ BERLIN ran for 3 years. And when, after years of playing it "safe" in the fickle corporate world, I was laid off, and had to reinvent myself, it was Bradshaw on a sunny April morning on Fire Island who talked to me about my plans for Sybil Bruncheon, and what I could now do with her with the whole new world of technology available....There we were bundling up in our sweaters having coffee in the chilly sunshine of the retreating Winter of 2011, sharing what it means to move on, to embrace new adventures in the face of loss, heartbreak, and adversity. Bradshaw's love for his life-partner John was inspiring to any who knew them and a ferocious rebuke to all those who think that a same-sex couple could never have a meaningful and long lasting relationship.

Over the years, Bradshaw had moved in and out of my life as our careers and fortunes changed and evolved....now we decided that we would start interviewing all the old-timers (a vanishing breed!) out in Cherry Grove and capture their wonderful stories, mischiefs, scandals, gossip, and memories of the Island back in the 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s before all of it was lost....a wonderful project for the coming Summer and Fall. And it was just that last week or so of 2011 that I went to his home and picked up the newly reworked and digitized DVDs of CAFE BERLIN. We talked at length about the coming Spring and the Archiving both of his library and the exciting pursuit of the Fire Island project....We both joked that if the Mayans are right and this IS the end of the World, we would rather throw caution to the wind and have a Ball doing our shows and projects, like children playing for all they're worth, and Fate be damned!!! We both agreed to use 2012 for fun, adventure, and new hope!..

I'm sure that Bradshaw is having some of John's brilliant (and I mean BRILLIANT!) apricot cobbler right now while they sit together at end of day looking at the first stars coming out on a Fire Island evening that will always be balmy and perfect....the ocean is rolling softly in the background... I'm sure Bradshaw's making all the lighting and sound arrangements for a perfect paradise to come for the two of them...

I'll stay here, and continue to play in the sand of our Earthbound world... being even more appreciative and grateful for the year, the month, the week, the sunset, the moment that is given....loaned, I should say, and is taken back finally. And that lesson will be one more gift that Bradshaw left behind without even knowing it... you see, he was accidentally generous. 

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Strange Tales From The Workplace: Lay-Off Day at The Doll Hospital"…

...it was a tough time. The economy hadn't gotten better for most people, and lay-offs had continued in every business and industry... even at the Doll Hospital down at 113 Bank Street in Greenwich Village. Debra-Marie had been called to Miss Carrington's office to be given the news that "her services would no longer be required." She had tried so hard at bisque modeling, arm and leg stringing, eyelash gluing, wig-weaving, and finally at basic face-feature-painting. Sadly, she was not even particularly good at sewing the simple cotton gowns on the new-fangled electric sewing machines.

Now she would have to go home to her tenement building on Mott Street, climb the six flights of stairs, and tell her parents that she would no longer be bringing home $1.65 a day to help the family out. And at 11 years of age and the oldest, she was the big bread-winner of the eight children. How humiliating it had all been too... called into the reception area. Made to wait on the hard horse-hair sofa with the spring poking out of the center cushion that jabbed one's bottom if you didn't arrange your bustle just right...(and if it DID prick your bottom, you had to sit perfectly still and wait silently because that's what a "nice lady" should do until she was called into the office.) And then finally standing in front of Miss Carrington. And reading the pink slip. And Miss Carrington just sitting and staring. Staring and saying nothing.

Well, that's how most of them were at the Doll Hospital. Cold, and oh-so-superior. And those eyes... staring straight ahead and always saying nothing. Poor little Debra-Marie coughed awkwardly in the silence... and finally let herself out of the office. She looked back one more time. Nope. Miss Carrington hadn't moved a muscle. "Stuck-up little bitch", Debra-Marie whispered as she passed into the hall and down the stairs. She didn't hear Miss Carrington whisper the very same thing about her as she reapplied her lip paint!...."Dammit!", Miss Carrington spluttered as she looked down and realized she had chipped one of her little bisque fingers.

[Postscript: Many years later, Debra-Marie became a millionairess during WW II in her work with the newly-invented plastics, perfecting artificial limbs for the returning veterans. Sadly, she eventually died of "styrene-lung" in 1959....just a few weeks after she created a doll named Barbara Millicent Roberts…(Styrene-lung is the doll-profession equivalent of Crisco-nose, the pie-baking disease that, of course, is always fatal.) Interestingly... Miss Carrington continued on at the Doll Hospital in an administrative position for several years until her retirement at an undetermined age. She was eligible for a sizable pension, and received her traditional 12 karat gold-plated brooch-watch. Unfortunately, a week after her farewell party, while wearing a lovely bonnet with blue and green ribbons trailing behind her, a speeding trolley car passed by and happened to catch some of them in the spokes of its whirling wheels. It tore her head completely off!.... Miss Carrington, who had worked so diligently at the Greenwich Village Doll Hospital, was rushed to that self-same emergency room in a Milton-Bradly ambulance. Her body was wheeled into the torsos-and-restringing ICU, and her head was rushed to "features-painting-and-reconstruction", but there was nothing to be done. She was pronounced BBR...(Broken Beyond Repair) and put into the RFP bin (Recycle For Parts)... Ironically, she may actually have been mulched and turned into a teapot…]

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