You Ought to be in Pictures
Oh what a night! Women dressed in long, sexy gowns and men in smart tuxedoes—many enthusiastic film fans; some film stars—packed the ballroom at the Hilton Rye Town to help raise money to renovate and restore the historic Pelham Picture House. For more than 85 years, The Picture House has entertained the Southern Westchester community, first with silent movies, then with “the talkies,” and later, it informed with crucial news reports during World War II. The rather run-down Picture House is now poised to make still another change: it will become a three-screen, state-of-the art film center with education space, lecture space, and space for seminars and film events. It’s a big deal. Thus, the fundraiser. Glenn Close, who attended the event (in her honor, we were served “Fatal Attraction Pomegranate Cosmopolitans”), lamented the fact that there’s no such center in her town, Bedford. It may just be a matter of time. Until then, though, do check out the Picture House’s website (www.thepicturehouse.org). Or, if you can, support the venture. After all, the arts are what helps keep our county vibrant, thriving, and interesting. That’s worth supporting, don’t you think?
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Freelance writer Malerie Yolen-Cohen, who wrote our Romantic Getaways piece (see page 72), isn’t picky about where she stays when she travels. “I can stay anywhere: a pitched tent—provided it’s luxury and in the Okovango Delta, Botswana—a friend’s couch, or even a Hampton inn if it’s one in the morning and I’ve been driving for twelve hours,” Malerie says. But she does have preferences: she favors small, cushy, local hotels. “I’ve always preferred B&Bs to large impersonal hotels, so this assignment fit my passion to a T,” she says. “It amazes me how even the smallest touches—like homemade liqueur at night, or a starlit view from a clawfoot tub, or top-of-the-line full tea—can mean the difference between run-of-the-mill and extraordinary. It was refreshing to find lodging where owners take on â€˜service’ as a holy grail, and where â€˜plush’ means a warm, homey welcome on top of luxurious accoutrements. Researching this piece restored my faith in romantic travel, and I can’t wait to find the next batch of deserving inns.”
In writing about dysfunctional book groups (“Confessions of a Book Club Dropout,” page 39), freelancer Susan Goldberg discovered a strange book-group “omerta,” so to speak. “Women who would happily tell me about their marital problems were reluctant to share details about their book groups,” says Susan, who lives in Mount Kisco with her husband, Bob, and their-13-year-old daughter, Alison (their 20-year-old son, Brian, is away at college). “It seemed that even if the groups themselves were unsuccessful, the women involved frequently became close. It made writing the article more difficult, but I do admire that kind of loyalty.”