You recall when Pretty Boy Critic (PBC) used to everywhere. I know you do, you’re just pretending to be twenty years younger than you are. Your plastic surgeon and your hairdresser both conspire to hide those two decades, but you’re looking like Joan Rivers. But back to PBC and his ubiquitous rein on all those ‘talk shows’ of the 70’s like Merv, Mike, Dick and Johnny and all of the clones of clones, that appeared and disappeared with astounding regularity: all with the same guests endlessly recycled, old faces, even some new faces resembling old faces, hawking their latest bestseller, movie or Vegas appearance or just playing the old Show Biz buddy routine. Sound familiar? Well PBC would come on in full makeup, false eyelashes, pancake and rouge, dressed like your flamboyant unmarried uncle, and dish about his latest interview with a movie star, who lit up a joint during the interview (gasp from the audience)  in that southern drawl, that almost resembled a purr. He was, in his salad days, everyone’s darling; he even did summer stock with Jacqueline Susann. Well, time has caught up with PBC, no more escorting those aging Hollywood beauties to various events, adding a much needed patina to his un-likability. He’s been reduced to reviewing movies and exclusive cabarets for a trendy New York publication, printed on salmon colored paper. Time has not been kind to the once luminous beauty that he so carefully attempted to enhance, yet he brings a style and finesse, dare I say dignity and maturity, to his writing that makes him worth reading.

Literary Hack