HISTORY OF A SONG: LET'S DO IT

Songwriter Cole Porter has recorded many controversial songs in his long career, but the lyrics to "Let's Do It" are probably his most controversial. The first of Porter's "list songs", it features a string of suggestive and droll comparisons and examples, preposterous pairings and double entendres, dropping famous names and events, drawing from highbrow and popular culture. Porter was a strong admirer of the Savoy operas of Gilbert and Sullivan, many of whose stage works featured similar comic list songs.

The first refrain covers human ethnic groups, the second refrain birds, the third refrain marine life, the fourth refrain insects and centipedes, and the fifth refrain non-human mammals.

With "Let's do 'it'" a euphemism for sexual intercourse in English, author Sheldon Patinkin wrote that it was "the first hit song to proclaim openly that sex is fun."  The author of Staging Desire: Queer Readings of American Theater History drew a line from Porter's use of barely veiled double entendres such as "Moths in your rugs do it, What's the use of moth-balls?" to his "pleasure" in barely masking his homosexuality from the public.

The song has regularly lent itself over the years to the addition of contemporary or topical stanzas. For example, in 1955 the lines "Even Liberace, we assume, does it," "Ernest Hemingway could just do it" and many more were added by Noël Coward in his Las Vegas cabaret performance of the song, in which he replaced most of Porter's lyrics with his own.

In Porter's publication from 1928, the opening lines for the chorus carried three derogatory racial references: Chinks, Japs, and Laps.

The original was:

Chinks do it, Japs do it,
up in Lapland little Laps do it...

The original line can be heard in several early recordings of the song, such as a recording made by the Dorsey Brothers & their Orchestra (featuring a vocal by a young Bing Crosby), Rudy Vallée, Paul Whiteman And His Orchestra, all in 1928, and a version of the song by the singer and well-known Broadway star Mary Martin (with Ray Sinatra's orchestra), recorded in 1944. Another example is Billie Holiday, in 1941.  Peggy Lee with the Benny Goodman orchestra recorded a version in 1941 with these lyrics.

CBS came up with less offensive lyrics, which NBC adopted, and changed the opening to the refrain: "Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it." when they recognized that the line was offensive...

RECENTLY VIEWED: MARTIN SHORT - LIFE IS SHORT

I am a sucker for a good documentary, especially on my favorite stars. I just finished watching Martin Short: Life Is Short, and it is one of the better documentaries I have seen. This is actually my third one of the year. I also watched the Chevy Chase documentary as well as the John Candy one. After I saw the Chevy Chase one, I disliked him more. After I saw the John Candy one, I felt sad for him. However, after seeing the Martin Short documentary, I surprisingly felt good even though Short has been through his share of tragedy.

Martin Short is a comedy legend to multiple generations.In the 1980s, he created one brilliant character after another with SCTV and Saturday Night Live — from the hyperactive Wheel of Fortune superfan Ed Grimley to the hyper-defensive lawyer Nathan Thurm.Then in the 2000s, he gave the world the clueless film buff Jiminy Glick — and most recently, podcasting sleuth Oliver Putnam on Only Murders in the Building.

In February, after the documentary was finished, his daughter, Katherine, took her own life at the age of 42.Short told Morning Edition host A Martínez, "The reality is that my daughter had a severe disease: mental illness. Like cancer, some diseases are terminal. And hers was terminal."

Short says the documentary's director, Lawrence Kasdan, suggested postponing the film's release.

"My instinct was the opposite," Short said. "Because it's about love, loss and survival… I think we proceed. We must figure a way to survive through grief without denying it or without in any way undermining its importance."

The documentary reveals just how often Short has had to endure the deaths of family members. Between the ages of 12 and 20, he lost his father, mother and brother. Then in 2010, his wife, Nancy Dolman, succumbed to ovarian cancer. Their blissful relationship is a highlight of the film, as told through Short's own home videos.

"When I first saw a rough cut of this documentary," Short remembered, "I said to Larry Kasdan, 'I didn't know you were in love with Nancy!' Because it is a love letter to her."

If you didn't like Martin Short - watch the documentary still because you will like him more after. The home movies were touching, and it showed the absolute love Martin and Nancy had for each other as well as the amount of love everyone has in the business for Martin Short. This documentary has done something none of the others have, it has made me cry. The documentary feels short (no pun intended), because it is so interesting! 

MY RATING : 10 OUT OF 10

MUSIC BREAK: BENNY GOODMAN - LET'S DO IT

HOLLYWOOD URBAN LEGEND: JUDY HOLLIDAY

URBAN LEGEND: Was actress Judy Holliday, who sometimes played dumb blondes on the screen really a genius?

ANSWER: YES!

A New York girl, born and raised, Judith Tuvim was the only child of parents Abe Tuvimand Helen. In school, she excelled in academics, winning several awards for her skills as a writer. While in her early teens, she developed what would become a life-long love for theater. In 1938, she made her professional debut as part of a nightclub act called "The Revuers". Her partners in the act included aspiring playwrights Betty Comden and Adolph Green. "The Revuers" had a loyal following and even their own weekly radio show on NBC. In 1944, The Revuers broke up after a failed attempt to break into films. Judith adopted the stage name of "Judy Holliday" as part of a "makeover" process that was orchestrated by 20th Century Fox.

Despite her image as a "dumb blonde", Judy Holliday had an IQ of 172. She often said that it took a lot of smarts to convince people that her characters were stupid. "You have to be smart to play a dumb blonde over and over and keep the audience's attention without extraordinary physical equipment."

A MOMENT WITH ED O'NEIL

Ed O’Neill, remembered as Al Bundy from Married with Children, never wanted to return to sitcoms. By 2008 he was semiretired, enjoying life in Hawaii, and pursuing occasional dramatic roles. When asked to meet Modern Family creators Christopher Lloyd and Steven Levitan, he resisted, declaring he was done with sitcoms. Even after agreeing, he warned them: “I did eleven years on Married with Children, and that’s enough.” His aversion came from disliking live-audience formats, which he felt ruined timing. The creators pitched their idea differently—two cameras, shot like a movie—and eventually convinced him to read the script. He was struck by its quality: “Oh shit, this is good.”

But O’Neill wasn’t the obvious choice. Craig T. Nelson was initially favored, chosen after a literal coin toss. Nelson, however, demanded star money, and his reputation for being difficult, coupled with a controversial remark, soured the network. In contrast, everyone described O’Neill as humble and easy to work with. Willing to take less money, he embodied the grounded patriarch Jay Pritchett. The role reinvented his career, balancing humor with gravitas. For O’Neill, Modern Family was more than a hit: it validated his craft and gave him a second iconic character...

GUEST REVIEW: HIGH SOCIETY

The late movie reviewer Bruce Krogan is back to our blog pages to review the nearly perfect musical High Society - which turns 70 years old this year...

MGM was pretty lucky to secure the talents of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Grace Kelly, Celeste Holm, and Louis Armstrong to get involved in this great musical adaption of The Philadelphia Story.

Cole Porter contributed a great original score for this film with songs very specifically written to suit the talents of High Society's players. I do wish Celeste Holm had been given more to do than just the duet with Frank Sinatra, Who Wants To Be a Millionaire. On Broadway Celeste Holm was a musical star with Oklahoma and Bloomer Girl to her credit, but MGM didn't want to recognize that.

For this film, the story is reset from Philadelphia to Newport, Rhode Island to bring in the famous Jazz Festival. Philip Barry's social commentary is toned down and a very partisan Greek Chorus is added in the person of Mr. Louis "Satchmo" Armstrong. Satchmo tells you right up front who he's pulling for to win Grace Kelly and he helps musically along the way.

Satch and Bing have that classic Now You Has Jazz duet, so successful was it that they did an album together a few years later. Bing Crosby during his life was crazy about jazz musicians and there was no one he liked better than Louis Armstrong. No one on the planet could resist that man's joy for living.

Grace Kelly got a chance to bat 1000 in the recording industry. She was no singer as she would have freely admitted, but Cole Porter wrote True Love specifically to accommodate her limited range and when she does the last two bars of True Love with Der Bingle she got a million selling record for her one and only platter. As for Bing he got his 20th Gold record and the only one not with Decca records.

True Love was nominated for Best Song at the Oscars but lost to Doris Day's Que Sera Sera which boomed all over the charts in 1956. It was sadly Cole Porter's last opportunity to win an Oscar for one of his movie songs.

Frank Sinatra got a couple of good ballads in You're Sensational and Mind If I Make Love to You, but what he's best remembered for is that classic Well Did You Evah duet with Bing. Today's fans can't possibly appreciate the screen meeting of the two best and best known singers for the previous generations. A musical summit conference.

High Society's tone is a lot lighter than the Philadelphia Story. The cast in terms of acting ability are not in the same league as Grant, Stewart, Hepburn, and Hussey. But folks it is a musical. I doubt those stars could have carried off the Cole Porter score.

You can't miss with a cast like this, in either film for that matter...

BRUCE's RATING: 10 out of 10

MY RATING: 10 OUT OF 10

THE QUIET LOVE STORY OF MAXENE ANDREWS & LYNDA WELLS

This past weekend, Hollywood manager and model Lynda Wells passed away at the age of 84 after a vallant battle witth cancer. She was the manager and companion of Maxene Andrews as well. For much of her life, Maxene Andrews lived in harmony—literally and figuratively—with the world watching. As the soprano voice of the Andrews Sisters, she helped define the sound of America during World War II, her voice ringing out from radios, USO stages, and movie screens as a symbol of patriotism and optimism. Yet behind the carefully maintained public image of smiling glamour and perfect harmony existed a private life shaped by restraint, secrecy, and ultimately, devotion. At the center of that life was Lynda Wells.

When Maxene met Lynda Wells in the early 1970s, she was in her mid‑50s and already a legend. The Andrews Sisters’ heyday had long passed, and Maxene’s relationship with her surviving sister, Patty, had deteriorated into estrangement. It was a period of personal recalibration following decades of fame and pressure, and it was during this quieter chapter that she and Wells connected. Various accounts describe Wells first as Maxene’s manager, but describing her role that way alone misses the depth of their bond. Wells soon became Maxene’s most constant companion, her advocate, and eventually her family in every way that mattered, even if the law did not yet recognize it. 

Their partnership unfolded in an era when same‑sex relationships, especially among public figures tied to patriotic imagery, were not merely frowned upon but could have destroyed careers and legacies. Maxene had already experienced how carefully image had to be managed. Earlier in her life, she had married music publisher Lou Levy, a union that ended in separation in 1949, and while she later entered relationships with women, these remained deeply private. With Wells, however, something shifted. Friends and later historians have noted that this was not a fleeting romance but a lasting, stabilizing relationship that endured for more than two decades, until Maxene’s death in 1995. 

What makes their love story particularly poignant is the way it was lived: plainly, quietly, and without bitterness toward a world that gave them no vocabulary for legitimacy. Wells traveled with Maxene, managed her later career, and cared for her in health and illness. They made a home together, not as a rebellion but as a natural extension of companionship. In later interviews, Wells emphasized that Maxene did not frame her life through labels or activism; singing remained her great love, and Wells was the person who made life around that love possible.

Because same‑sex marriage was not an option, Maxene and Wells took a step that may seem unusual today but was a known legal strategy among queer couples in the twentieth century: Maxene legally adopted Wells as her daughter. This act was not about redefining their personal relationship but about ensuring basic protections—hospital access, inheritance rights, and recognition as family—at a time when the law offered no other path. Historians have since documented this practice as a quiet form of resistance and survival rather than secrecy for its own sake. 

Their bond remained largely invisible to the public during Maxene’s lifetime, but it was undeniable to those who knew her. When Maxene died of a heart attack on October 21, 1995, she was vacationing on Cape Cod with Lynda Wells at her side. Wells was there not as a footnote, not as an assistant, but as the person who had shared Maxene’s private world for over twenty years. In death, as in life, their connection was quietly acknowledged, even if never publicly celebrated in the way it might be today. 

In recent years, as scholars, journalists, and filmmakers have revisited the lives of historical figures with fuller honesty, the love story of Maxene Andrews and Lynda Wells has begun to emerge from the margins. Projects like An All American Affair: The True Story of Maxene Andrews aim to tell that fuller story—not to diminish Maxene’s legacy, but to deepen it by acknowledging the reality of the woman behind the voice. 

Their story is not one of scandal or tragedy. It is a story of endurance, of choosing companionship in a world that demanded silence, and of finding love not in defiance of identity but in its quiet acceptance. Maxene Andrews spent her life singing in perfect harmony with others. With Lynda Wells, she finally found a harmony that required no performance at all...