Sweetheart, I Was Only Being Kind to a Scared Kid in a Bar. That's all.

On 12 December 2010, following press reports linking her romantically with Australian cricketer Shane Warne, Hurley announced via her Twitter account that she and her husband Arun had separated several months earlier. Hurley filed for divorce on 2 April 2011, citing Nayar's "unreasonable behaviour" as the cause.The divorce was granted on 15 June 2011

The poor kid. It all started on an October night -A Friday I believe in 2009. I had made my way up to the fabled Pump Room of the Ambassador East Hotel. It was about 4:30 PM as I recall - too early for the Commodore Max Weismann and his posse of Steve, Jesse, Yancie, and other worthies, Angel was behind the bar. Angel fixed me a tall soda and lime and asked if I wanted the dried spicy Wasabi pea and cracker mix. " Nix, on that, Angel. I'm waiting for my Angel and she's running late." I dug into my strides for my roll and pinched out a couple of Hamiltons and two Jacksons. Angel, held up his palm, " The Lady on the other side asked me to keep you from getting thirsty."


No sooner had Angel placed my beverage in front of me than a young girl in her early forties slinked onto the stool next to mine. She was good-looking as most girls go, but I got eyes only for one at a time and mine have been locked on only one for three years. I might have mentioned her here from time to time, but she is a private type and not given to the big public stage, if you get me.

The same can not be said for my new friend. We talked for a good hour or so and then I had to beat it and meet the one I am roped to around the heart.

I liked the kid well enough, but nixed her overtures. I had listened to her man troubles and loneliness tales. I left her softly . . . with these words, " Kiddo, only suckers beef."

I tucked a sawbuck under my glass and slide a couple of double sawbucks to Angel on the quiet, "Angel, get the kid a few, but don't let her drive. We'll be back for the Andrew Distel show later. Ask, Max to see that she don't make trouble, or let Maynard take advantage of her, Okay?" Angel is a pro's pro.

I thought that was it. Not at all. I get these as regular as Patrick Cox IRS* commercials on cable TV.

Dear Pat,
Did you lose my number? Did we even exchange numbers? I know we don’t know each other that well, yet we were intimate when I stayed in Chicago in 2009. Was that just a casual thing for you? If so I will take the hint and assume that you don’t want to take this further. If not, you know how to find me by looking me up. This requires you to remember my last name. If you have already forgotten my last name, then perhaps you shouldn’t be calling me . . . Dear God, that you were. You didn't seem cruel. You were charm itself. Perhaps it was my foolish heart, or the scent of Club Man that you wore. I am devastated think of you, Otherwise, I really would look forward to seeing you again.
Yours sincerely,
Elizabeth



My Dearest Pat,
I am so distraught that we can’t ever be together. I wish you could wrap me in your arms and tell me it will all be ok but I know you can’t. I will make this brief because I know it hurts you to see me this way.
Even though you have left me for that singer, I will always love you anyway. I want to let you know that if your woman ever hurts you in any way, that I will be here to embrace you with my unconditional love.

Please continue to love me too even though fate has split us apart! I should not have allowed her to have you, May you be blessed and cradled in the arms of those who love you forever. May you recognize that true love is letting go as I have done…
I love you…
Lonely LIZ


Dear Mr. Hickey,

Hey, what’s up? YOu never call or write; hope you are ok. I only keep track of your doings on this silly blog of yours.

I'm sorry. It is not silly. It is my only connection to you. I replay our few hours in the Pump Room every day. Until you went to meet her.

Where did you go? I was thinking about you today, hoping you’d call or email. Silly me, I guess I am under the delusion that the more I think of you, the more inclined you will be to call, email or stop by for a visit.


Please drop me a note to let me know that you are still interested in continuing this spark in my heart, so I know what to expect. Sorry to sound so disappointed, but you have trained me to think of contact from you as being the highlight of my day. Now I feel like I have nothing to look forward to . . . only on this blog more fool me. You delete my notes and why?

Sorry, all of this is making me a little mad, not only at you for being so silent, but also at myself, for loving you when you may not be interested.
I miss you,
Your Liz


Dear Master and Commander of My Heart, My Soul and All that surrounds it,

I am writing you because I realized that that I didn’t say everything I needed to last.

It’s funny that you should reject me that particular day, because that day, I was feeling that we had never been closer. I guess that was a beautiful delusion.

To tell you the truth, I know you were a bit put off by my request to . . .well, you know. In fact, I was shocked that my overture was met with such rigid moral rectitude.

I am wondering why you would go to all the effort of making me feel so loved and emotionally secure by commiserating with my loneliness and lack of centered self-respect and then pull the rug out from all that I believe by rejecting my suggestion.

Maybe this is all my fault and along I have been interpreting your behavior as a green light to go forward. If so I apologize. If that is true, then why did you encourage me by taking hands in your strong but gentle grip and beaming those understanding and sexy earth-tone eyes of yours. It is frightening me to think that you could be so manipulative as to play with my feelings like that, or that my own intuition about you is so misguided.
All I can think is that you have been giving mixed messages. You must be either very confused or afraid . . . or as posted some time ago, cruel. Why have you been giving me mixed messages? I need to know, because I still love you.
Always,

Hopeful Lizzy


Hey Mr. Smoothe Creme,

Please do me a favor and read all of this letter and think about what it says. I hope what has happened doesn’t mean that we have broken up. I hope we haven’t. It’s pretty lonely around here without you.

I have pretending these last three years, you blackguard.

I understand why you have made the choices you have. I understand that your little singer friend ( I followed her on day this past week, during a stay over at that dredful Peninsula) is the best thing for you. Still you need to know that even though you are far away, I need to think of you and pretend you are here every single moment of the day.

There is something I have told you. I really love you. I can’t sleep without knowing for sure that we still have the future. Yet I am sleeping more to avoid knowing that you are far away. This is the only way I can still pretend that you are still with me in person.

I really did believe from the first time that had we gotten together at that I would not wasted my time with footballers, heirs and Euro-trash royalty and that we would always be together. Please tell me I wasn’t wrong. Please tell me that the love I saw in your eyes was not my imagination.

Can we do this long distance? Let me know or set me free, even though it would break my heart.
Love always,


Elizabeth Hurley

Sweetheart, I'd like to find a razor that don't get dull.


Click my post title for more unrequited love letter templates

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Pump Room Alternative Scouting Report - Part 1

Lonnie Walker's Underground Wonder Bar is great spot!





Bar Bernard in the Elsian Hotel is opulent.


I have a bad feeling that Ian Schrager's plans* for the venerable Pump Room in the Ambassador East Hotel include peeling off the Walnut and other warm woods and replace the atmosphere with glass and stainless steel. The guy who developed Studio 54 is going to maintain the grace dignity of the Pump Room? Please.

Warmth and Welcome is what it is all about.

On the Northside, Warmth and Welcome have always gone together. The master bar owner Nick Novich has made a legendary career of welcome stamped by his trademark Pineapple logo.

Bernard Callaghan's South Side fireplace woody warmth and Irish Pub coziness makes Keegan's Pub in my Morgan Park neighborhood a home base for hilarious and Bowie-knife wit from the wage-maker wags and public service professionals who wet down the week with Guinness and Smithwick's Ale.

However for the last two and half years, I have enjoyed the traditional grace and elegance of the Pump Room. No visit to that stately and lively gin-mill can be experienced without my morphing from a rumpled chino and crew-neck sweater English teacher into a worsted wool suited and starched white shirt and snappy cravat accessorised swell who knows how to mind his Pees and Cues.

From the doormen who recognize each and every regular, to the lovely, gracious and attentive greeters at the top of the Stairway to Heaven and right on up to the welocoming brass rail of the horseshoe bar where Angel, James and Tony practice the alchemy of liquid refreshments, the Pump Room is a Night Spa of a Vacation. Ian Schrager looms.

In the event that my worst fears will be realised, my beautiful and elegant best friend and I have begun a scouting report for the concerned Pump Room regulars - Max, Jesse, Beth, Maynard, Charlie, Steve, Diane, Carol, Yancy, Bob, Clay, Bozo, Joe, and so many more great folks. Cabaret Singer Nan Mason and her great band have been given notice. Nan follows in the wake of the loss of the Brilliant Andrew Distel in brake-job on the Pump Room.

Last night, my Angelic Beauty and I stopped by for Lime Rickies and witty patter with the Pump Room crew and then walked off in search of a venue that might absorb some of the shock of the Pump Room's fade into history.

Our first stop was Bernard's on the 2nd floor of the Elysian Hotel where the very attentive Food and Beverage Manager Brian O'Connor pointed out the beauty and overwhelming sights of the Bernard Bar.

Overwhelming is the word. This place and the people in there are beautiful. A mutt like me sticks out like spats on pig in the well-lighted majesty of the Elysian Hotel. My exquisite Lady Love - a diminutive Dresden Doll who bears no small resemblance to screen Goddess Jennifer Jones - decided that the opulence and upscale nature of the Elysian might overwhelm more than welcome and we headed to the elevators.

Right across the street was a saloon gem that I had not visited for almost twenty years.

Lonnie Walker's Underground Wonder Bar! Begging like a St. Cajetan second grader at the sight of Fat Tommy's Hot Dogs in Kennedy Park during baseball season, I convinced my smartly turned out arm-candy that a trip underground was essential - Baby it's cold outside.

The last time I enjoyed the Wonder Bar was in the company of my late wife Mary ( that girl could work a beer glass!) and the three Mulligan Brothers in the late 1980's. It is as an Old School Saloon and as fun now, as it was then. The young bartender is singer Lonnie Walker's son and a percussionist. My Angelic Companion and this handsome dred-locked young gent talked jazz as the talented Heather Horton opened the music for the evening. Ms. Horton does covers of John Prine, Bonnie Raitt and other great artists, as well as her own compositions.

Guinness Stout, Bass Ale and 312 Pale Ale are the draft delights and the back bar was heavy with high end hooch - Maker's Mark, Grey Goose & etc. as well as a number of Single Malt Scotch and Irish Whiskies as well as a broad assortment of cognacs.

The atmosphere is inviting and the music eclectic. The only drawback to Wonder Bar is the tight and narrow space it affords. It might not accommodate the large number of Pump Room Refugees.

I gave the Underground a Half-Thumb Up as did my half-pint Angel. Tight quarters, folks. The place is great fun, but would not be sizeable enough for all of the Pump Room Refugees.

Side Note - I was ordered to keep her name out of such affectionate and Whipped Boy offerings by your humble servant. This Dude Abides.


The search will continue.

In the mean time whine, wheeled and cajole until your better half assents to a trip to Lonnie Walker's Underground Wonder Bar! click my post title for more.

Stay tuned, Boys and Girls. Next Stop - Coq d'Or in the Drake Hotel - It's Got Wood!

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His keen instincts for the mood and feel of popular culture were honed during the 70’s and 80’s, when he and his late business partner, Steve Rubell, created Studio 54 and Palladium. Rubell and Schrager soon turned their attention to the hotel business opening Morgans Hotel in 1984, introducing the concept of the "boutique hotel" to the world.

Following this were the equally well received and highly successful Royalton Hotel and Paramount Hotel, in which Schrager again broke with industry convention by creating "lobby socializing", where the hotel lobby became a new kind of gathering place for guests and New York City residents alike, and "cheap chic", where affordable luxury was offered in a stylish and sophisticated environment. Schrager also received international recognition and acclaim for his one-of-a-kind "urban resorts"—the Delano Hotel in Miami and Mondrian Hotel in West Hollywood. This was followed by the Hudson Hotel in New York, where Schrager realized his "hotel as lifestyle", and continued to refine his concept of "cheap chic", as well as expanding to cities such as San Francisco with the Clift Hotel and London with St. Martins Lane Hotel and the Sanderson Hotel.

http://www.ianschragercompany.com/ian_schrager.html

Jazz Genius Andrew Distel and Guitarist Daniel Bruce at Viands Saturday Night!

Think Mel Torme! Think Chet Baker! Go See and Hear Andrew Distel!

Hello Jazz Lovers,
I'll be playing this weekend at Viand with a wonderful guitarist--Daniel Bruce. We'll be playing standards in a quaint room in the heart of downtown Chicago. Good food and a nice relaxed atmosphere too--Hope to see you out and about this weekend!
May 16th Saturday - The day After Friday - Date Night!

Viand Restaurant
155 E. Ontario (1 block east of Michigan Ave.)
6-9pm
no cover
(312)255-8505

'Sleek and Tres Chic' Catch Andrew Distel and Guitarist Daniel Bruce at Viands

Catch Jazz as it was meant to be performed by Vocal genius and horn man Andrew Distel and guitarist Daniel Bruce- Tonight at Viand Chicago:

Saturday March 21
Viand Restaurant
155 E. Ontario
6-9pm
no cover
312.255.8505

Andrew Distel-vocals/trumpet
Daniel Bruce-guitar

www.viandchicago.com

Click my post title for Andrew singing 'The Rest of Your Life'

Andrew Distel - Jazz Genius at the Pump Room!

Click my post title and listen to young guys who treat music with respect.

Andrew Distel fronts a quartet of young jazz artists who grace Chicago's Pump Room* on Friday and Saturday nights from 8-10 PM.

There is absolutely no room on the tight stage for any nonsense or clinkers. With a clear and clever voice that delicately places the intent of the composer up on a Waterford Crystal mantel, Andrew sparks the piano, bass and drums **when adding the trumpet, flugelhorn and coronet to the International Songbook.

Along with pianist Pete Benson ( who reminds one of Errol Garner when he solos), Mr. Distel elevates the tones and textures which give music its ability to level out the cant and narcissism that seems the hallmark of contemporary performance artists masquerading as musicians.

These young men are the real deal. They are journeyman geniuses . . .lacking any and all of the puffery of egomaniacs with microphones. Distel scats like Torme! My personal favorite is Andrew's take on 'Sleepy Time Down South.'

If you love your wife as you should, allow Andrew Distrel and his sidemen to lead you to the dance floor for some serious affection reconnection through real music.

You will meet some of the nicest and brightest people in Chicago; especially Commodore Max Weismann who holds court over a crowd of regulars known to the Pump Room irregulars as the Hole in The Wall Gang. Max and the late Mortimer Adler developed the Center for the Study of Great Ideas and the Great Books Program.

Here's a Great Idea!

Dress up; Put on the Dog; and Get to the Pump Room. Treat yourself to real music by Andrew Distel.



* Pump Room in the Ambassador East Hotel:
1301 N. State Parkway
(312) 266-0360

When Ernie Byfield opened The Pump Room in The Ambassador East Hotel on October 1, 1938, he undoubtedly had little idea that he was beginning an enterprise that would still be thriving to this day. Today, The Pump Room remains a magnet for movie stars and celebrities as well as a highly-acclaimed restaurant and Chicago landmark.
In 1938, Mr. Byfield was inspired by a place called the Pump Room that dominated the scene in 18th century England. Located in the resort city of Bath, The Pump Room was a place where Queen Anne and other stylish Londoners converged to revel in the social life at night after a long day. The Pump Room was named after the hot water drinks “pumped” into its patrons’ cocktails.

Byfield’s Pump Room was a success from the day it opened. Chicago’s socialites perched themselves along the large room’s western wall to observe the celebrities who made their appearances along the east side of the room. Those guests seated in Booth One, perhaps the more renowned table in the country, attracted the most attention. Famed actress Gertrude Lawrence, who was starring in a play in Chicago at the same time as The Pump Room’s debut, established its reputation. Miss Lawrence staged a nightly gathering in Booth One during the play’s entire 90-day run. From that moment on, The Pump Room became the place to see and be seen.

John Barrymore roared for champagne; Bette Davis could be found curled up on the piano bench; Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall celebrated their wedding in Booth One, as did Robert Wagner and Natalie Wood. Liza Minelli grew up in Booth One and has fond memories of dining there with her mother, Judy Garland. Ms. Garland immortalized the restaurant in the lyrics to “Chicago”, with the words “we’ll eat at The Pump Room/Ambassador East, to say the least”. And of course, Frank Sinatra held court in Booth One countless times.

After Byfield’s death in 1950, The Pump Room held on to its allure as a place for stargazing. A new generation of luminaries took up residence in Booth One. Mel Brooks personally greeted each guest; Paul Newman and Robert Redford lunched on ham sandwiches and pilsners every day during the shooting of “The Sting”. Michael J. Fox, Eddie Murphy and Jim Belushi have all continued the tables’ famous tradition.

Opera star Beverly Sills has added some high notes to the room, while a few rock and roll legends like David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, Olivia Newton-John and Mick Jagger, have added some of their own. A little known drummer was refused entry when he failed to pass the dress code and titled his solo album, “No Jacket Required” after the incident. His name- Phil Collins. (He was sent a new jacket by way of apology.)


Executive Chef Nick Sutton

The real command presence of the Pump Room:Bartender Extraordinaire - Angel!


**Andrew Distel Quartet at the Pump Room:
Andrew Distel - Vocals - Trumpet & etc.

Pete Benson - Piano ( 'nuff said!)

Jake Vinsel - Bass ( Jazz Bass Man named Jake!)

Brian Ritter - Drums ( Brian keeps it all together with delicate and clever precision)

http://www.pumproom.com/history.html