HUNGRY GERALD

Jackie and Roy. Say those words and get a wide smile from any hip person who loves jazz and musical elegance. Jackie Cain and Roy Kral….a vocal duo beloved by such folks as Lenny Bruce and Frank Sinatra. Long time Las Vegas lounge stars (where Sinatra came to listen whenever he was headlining in Vegas). TV performers on the Dave Garroway show and many others. King and Queen of the night at scores of jazz joints and supper clubs in the United States and Canada. Give yourself an ear treat and get some of their CD’s. Jackie was the girl vocalist with the Charley Ventura band in the early 50″s. Roy was the pianist and occasional arranger. Sparks. They married and stayed married until Roy’s death a few years ago. As a duo there was a lot of emphasis on Jackie’s solos (a voice as cool,pure and true as a mountain stream….phrasing and diction that honored a host of wonderful lyricists as diverse as Alec Wilder,Bobby Dorough and Bill Engvick). Roy arranged the music,accompanied deftly on the piano and joined in vocalese duets that are gems of the genre(Give a listen to their version of “Mountain Greenery”). Often Jackie and Roy were backed up by such outstanding musicians as bassist Ron Carter. I first heard Jackie and Roy in ’53 or ’54. Hungry Gerald was a New York journalist at the time but moonlighted as a night club press agent for establishments controlled by participants in organized crime. One such establishment was the Clique Club. Sammy Benskin,the jazz pianist,was leading a trio there and he alerted me that Jackie and Roy were going to make a guest appearance. Wow. They were spectacular. Usually, women jazz singers wore plunging neckline second skin clothes. Sultry.  (An African-American lady would be described as ‘Sepia, Sultry,Sexy Singer of Songs’). Back to Jackie. She was wearing a perfect tweed suit (Traina-Norell? Trigere? Ben Zuckerman? Jackie doesn’t remember.). Roy. Slim and handsome in conservative grey flannel. They performed for 20 minutes. I fell in love with Jackie and became a lifetime J and R fan. Segue to Fire Island, New York….circa ’67. The beautiful Sharon and I (plus kids) owned a dune house and Jackie and Roy rented a nearby place with the late, legendary Bradley Cunningham (proprietor of Bradley’s, the Greenwich Village bar and restaurant that was the venue of top jazz pianists and where a Sharon painting hung on the wall…Whitney Baillet did a worth reading profile of Bradley and Bradley’s in the New Yorker Magazine some years ago). We all became friends and remained so until death did us part. Okay. An August Sunday. Boiling. Hottest day of the summer. 99 or 100. Jackie, Roy and Bradley had a weekend guest, Rex Reed. Very prominent newspaper columnist,TV personality and entertainment critic of that time. A first rate wit. Rex said he was going to cook a down home Southern Sunday dinner for us. He’d cook at J and R’s and we’d dine at our place……watching the sun set over the Great South Bay.The menu would be a surprise. The day never cooled off but we were well reinforced by icy, steely martinis. Rex would dash over. Drink a martini. Do a deadly imitation of an English disc jockey introducing Miss Patti Page. Then back to the kitchen.The meal finally arrived. A huge,roasted- for- hours falling apart piece of beef swimming in a thick, almost back gravy. A mountain of buttery mashed potatoes. A loaf of Silvercup bread to soak up the extra gravy. A bowl of sweet gherkins. For dessert: A freshly baked lemon meringue pie. We were astonished. This is Rex’s idea of a hot day meal? He’s kidding.  It’s a sardonic gay joke. Then we dug in. Happy silence except for chewing murmurs. Meal ended. No leftovers. Not even a crumb of pie. We all nodded in agreement. Best meal we ever had.