Last Visit With Mickie 1989

THE RITZ CARLTON, Washington D.C.
 (This musing originally appeared in March 2013)

When my brother, Mickie, was living in Washington DC and dying of AIDS, we went to see the brilliant cabaret artist Julie Wilson at the Ritz Carlton.  It had started snowing and a lot more was on the way, and only about a dozen people showed up.   Mickie still lived in his apartment just around the corner, and I was staying nearby at a cheap hotel whose name I have since forgotten.  

Julie Wilson w/ signature boa and gardenia

 Julie Wilson was one of those Gotham sophisticates I had read about as a child in my Aunt Martha’s old New Yorkers. She was the undisputed queen of the New York hotel supperclubs, reigning supreme at the St. Regis’ Maisonette in the 1950’s, later at the Algonquin’s Oak Room. 

Even though she never had more than a discreet following outside of New York City, I knew all about her.  I had gone to see the movie “This Could be the Night” just to catch her supporting role as a night-club singer.  The 1950’s censors had quite a tussle with MGM over the film’s plot which revolved around if, when, and with whom Jean Simmons was going to lose her virginity.

At the Ritz Carlton we all chatted between Sondheim songs –Mickie and I and Julie and Billy Roy, her longtime accompanist and song stylist.  It was the first time I had heard “I’m Still Here.” I have heard it many times since, but Julie Wilson’s rendition remains by far the most accomplished.*

 Throughout the evening Mickie laughed so loudly that it embarrassed me, but he really enjoyed himself.  It was our last visit together, and I’m glad I have that memory.   I never had much of a friendship with Mickie (unlike his twin Dickie with whom I have always been close), but we were able to mend our fences in his final years. 

Mickie w/twin brother Dickie 1955

Our parents were not good about Mickie’s illness.  AIDS was naturally not an easy thing for them to deal with in 1986, particularly I suppose in the rural south. They were so afraid of what people would say, so prepared for a kind of rejection of themselves as well as of Mickie, that they probably never really saw that theirs was the only lack of acceptance of all our extended friends and family.  Everyone else was wonderfully supportive.

 

That night at the Ritz Carlton I asked Julie Wilson something about the movies she had made in Hollywood.

“MOVIES?” she laughed.  “Nobody’s ever asked me about them.   I don’t even remember those movies myself.” I told her I had seen “This Could be the Night” more than once (I didn’t tell her I was still a child at the time).  I think she was more bewildered than pleased, but she was warm and pleasant to talk with. 
  

Wilson in movie still with Anthony Franciosa and Paul Douglas

I suspect they realized that Mickie was sick, and maybe that it was such a special treat for him to be drinking champagne at the Ritz Carlton, listening to her torch songs and generally still being alive.  She and her pianist joined us at the break, and both let out great whoops  when they heard I lived in Paris.  They said they had both dreamed of living there, but neither had ever gotten around to doing it.

Mickie around 1974

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*Here’s a link to Julie Wilson singing Sondheim’s “I’m Still Here!”  She is accompanied by the late Billy Roy who was there the night Mickie and I heard her at the Ritz Carlton.  I guarantee you won't regret it (click on photo):  

Your input is welcomed:  frank.pleasants@libertysurf.fr