Dusty with a D

The continuing spectacle that is Britney Spears’ very public meltdown reminds me of the time Liza Minnelli was forced into a make-shift rehab and the unwitting part played by a pitcher of Dusty Meyers.

It was 1965 and Liza was a mere teenager, just 19. She was appearing on Broadway as Flora in “Flora the Red Menace,” her first star turn. I was in New York and happened to be on Time Square watching the news that the unmanned Gemini 2 was successfully launched when I ran into the choreographer Bob Fosse on his way to the Schubert Theatre.

By that time Fosse already was making a name for himself as a cutting edge choreographer on Broadway after having had his acting film cut short due to premature balding and the lack of roles at the time for hair challenged actors. Fosse was a Type A plus person with unbridled energy for both work and play. Always on the lookout for new and fresh talent, he had the opportunity to catch Liza in Flora and was smitten, despite the vast difference in ages.

As I mentioned, Liza was only 19 at the time but, as the daughter of Judy Garland, was no stranger to the night life even at that age. Liza was unattached at the time as this was several months before she met Peter Allen, who would eventually become the first of her four husbands. Using the ubiquitous air quotes, Fosse told me he was meeting Liza after the show to discuss a potential “project.” I remember thinking, “Fosse is voracious.”

I didn’t give that incident much thought until several weeks later when an item appeared in Variety that Liza was taking a short leave of absence from the show to attend to “personal matters.” The rumor on the street was that she was in the hospital trying to dry out. In those days, long before Betty Ford popularized the modern version of substance abuse rehabilitation, stars often checked into the hospital suffering from “exhaustion” as cover in order to get sober.

After some digging, I learned that Fosse’s meeting that night with Liza was hardly their first. In fact, the two had become fast friends and first-name acquaintances with the bartenders at 21, Elaine’s and the Rainbow Room. Fosse was strictly a Scotch man and Minnelli tended toward Cosmopolitans. Call it good genes or dumb luck, but Liza could handle her liquor as well as Fosse. But this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because the two were delightful together, Fosse often sitting at the piano in the Rainbow Room playing while Liza delighted the other patrons with one tune after another from her mother’s song book.

But as this relationship began budding it started to take an ever so slight toll on Liza’s ability to perform. Suddenly, small cues were being missed and lines were being botched. But still, the after theatre partying continued unabated. One night, though, the two were at 21 sitting with Fosse’s ex-wife, Gwen Verdon, with whom Fosse was still friendly and the director Alan J. Pakula. The conversation was mostly industry talk and the jokes and good times were in abundance.

Although Liza was sipping her usual Cosmopolitan, she had briefly left her drink unattended while she freshened up in the Ladies Room. Verdon, whose preferences were limited to white wine and white wine, took a sip and was delighted by the results. She finished the drink and was planning to re-order for Liza prior to her return. Unfortunately, Liza returned rather quickly and was disappointed, to put it charitably, that her drink was now empty.

Liza has many great virtues, but patience isn’t one of them. Rather than wait for the bar maid to bring her another Cosmo, she instead snatched the drink Pakula was holding, completely oblivious to what it might be. Of course it was a Dusty Meyer, Pakula’s drink of choice. Without so much as stopping for a breath, Liza downed this rather unique concoction. Intrigued by the taste, she squelched the order for her Cosmo and asked Pakula to order a pitcher of Dusty Meyers for the table.

When the pitcher arrived, Pakula could barely get one down when he saw Liza on her third. The one thing that Pakula knew and Liza didn’t was that though the Dusty Meyer goes down smooth, it can bite back and hard if not taken in moderation. It wasn’t long, then, that Liza became nearly incoherent, which Fosse had never seen before.

Worried now that perhaps Liza was having an allergic reaction of some sort, Fosse grabbed her by the arm and hurried her out of 21 and into a cab that Sam Crandell, the longtime doorman at 21, had hailed. Soon Fosse and Minnelli were on their way to Bellevue, Foose stroking her cheek and Minnelli singing the first verse of “Over the Rainbow” in what seemed like and endless loop.

Eventually they made it to Bellevue. Fosse, who by this time was carrying Minnelli on his back, pushed his way through the assembled crowd of mugging victims waiting to see a doctor and put Minnelli on an open bed. He quickly shuttered the curtains and demanded immediate medical attention.

Remember, this was 1965 and paparazzi, for all intents and purposes, had not yet been invented. Likewise the cell phone/camera. In fact, none of the waiting patients even recognized the famous duo. By this point, Minnelli had passed out or slipped into unconsciousness, depending on one’s perspective. When Doctor Grimes entered the cubicle he couldn’t quickly resuscitate Minnelli and her eyes were dilated. Sensing perhaps the worst he had her admitted immediately and she was off to a private room on the third floor.

Fortunately, nothing was medically wrong with Liza. She was just incredibly drunk. A blood alcohol test showed her at .19. Fosse had called Hal Prince, the producer of Flora the Red Menace. After arriving and sizing up the situation, Prince decided that this was as good a time as any to put Liza on leave, have her dry out and come back to work reinvigorated.

Apparently, Prince’s strategy worked. After spending two weeks in a private room in Bellevue, Liza was as good as knew. Upon her return not a cue was missed nor a line flubbed. The reviews were glowing. In fact, her return was so triumphant that it eventually led her to her stunning and surprising Tony Award against the heavily favored Inga Swenson in Baker Street.

For her part and although she has had several battles with substance abuse since, Minnelli never went back to the Dusty Meyer, which is too bad. Though she blamed the Dusty Meyer for his downfall that evening, without it she likely would have continued her hard partying ways with the Cosmos she could easily handle. Rather than dry her out, Prince likely would have dumped her from the play that eventually launched her career. Liza and Fosse did remain friends, with Fosse eventually choreographing Liza’s triumphant turn in “Cabaret.” Showing no ill will toward Pakula, Liza let him produce her 1972 television special, “Liza with a Z”, for which both she and Pakula won Emmys.

Although her involvement with the Dusty Meyer was unwitting, in a way you could say that it made her who she is today. So as we continue to witness the circus that is Britney Spears, remember that without Liza there would be no Britney Spears.