Flamboyance and Roger Courtney

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This story is a continuation of what began as a report about Scott Raymond, the living self-proclaimed dilettante who was convicted of stealing Shakespeare’s original Folio. Please read the initial story before proceeding.

http://my.nowpublic.com/world/jig-flamboyant-fake

Scott Raymond reminds me of a former friend, Roger Courtney, who passed away, and in tribute that Roger would appreciate, I am telling his story. I am doing this by bracketing his story with other reports of flamboyant people, in this instance, Malcolm McLaren, punk impresario.

Malcolm McLaren was buried at Highgate Cemetery, London. If you have never visited it is a prestigious place, one of the most famous places to end up one can have. Many flamboyant people have arrived at their last resting spot in splendor.

No such luck for Roger. In fact, there was no funeral for Roger as he died a pauper and there was no fitting obituary. His departure took most of us by surprise and I didn’t have an understanding of his situation until it was too late, not that anything could have been done to save him. Yet, more could have been done to celebrate his being. So this is it.

Boosting life

Whenever Roger showed up, there was a boost in excitement. It is not that others in his community lacked for excitement. There were many characters, including the McCormack’s, Andrew and Susan, innkeepers at the Webster House in Alameda, a popular venue for meeting. Others I won’t mention by name because 1) don’t know if they are still living, and 2) know they would sue me. They included writers, artists, musicians, journalists and it was pretty much a secret society.

Let me describe Roger’s physical appearance beginning with impeccable. A man in his seventies though he would pass for sixties, about six feet tall and 200 pounds, he had a square face and pink rosy cheeks. He had a full head of reddish brown hair that was wiry and English style with a part. Typically, he wore white suits like Tom Wolfe, though deviated to wearing red shirts and slacks when the occasion called, though never blue jeans. He occasionally wore white shoes, though also wore blue suede with a shiny clasp; get the picture? He entered the room wafting a fresh appliqué of Polo cologne.

He gave greetings to all with a peck to both sides of the cheeks to ladies, and a hand shake to gentlemen. One may suspect that Roger might just as well give a peck to the cheeks of men, though his role was customarily that of a woman’s companion – a very wealthy woman’s companion.

You see, Roger was on a mission. He had no money, though that was a best kept secret. The story goes that he came from Ft. Wayne Indiana and was the son of the founding family of Lincoln National Life Insurance Company. Roger left Indiana to further his education in Los Angeles California where, according to him, he attended acting school. Roger hob knobbed with celebrities, and to make ends meet in between acting gigs, he was a designer.

Yes, Roger Courtney designed displays for department stores and designed perfume packaging. He was a package designer. Now, I saw some of his designs from a portfolio and it is true that he had relationships with leading fragrance manufacturers.

He always had some fresh creative package at the ready to show when the opportunity arose. Some of his creative packages were something different than art and design.

You see, at one point, when Roger had command of investments, he claimed to be one of the producers of Five Easy Pieces starring Jack Nicholson. When I heard this, I did a quick check to verify, to see if his name ever showed up in conjunction with this creative work.

Roger claimed to know Carole Eastman aka Adrien Joyce who wrote Five Easy Pieces. Jack Nicholson said of Miss Eastman, “She had an absolutely great vision about the foibles of people and a very idiosyncratic sense of humor, which is pretty much as she was as a person, I might add." That’s as close as I can come to intimating that she might have known Roger.

It took awhile to get to know Roger. He had a fascination with celebrities and just down the street from our house lived Frederica von Stade, the mezzo soprano opera singer. When we walked by at night we would often hear her singing and it was lovely, of course. We also met her pianist and other vocalists who were her students.

Roger wanted for the life of him to enter her house and to befriend Frederica.

We did not know until well late in our friendship that Roger was out of money. He was like the character in the film A New Leaf written by Elaine May and starring Walter Mathau who portrayed Henry Graham whose life-long inheritance had run out.

Apparently, as was in the case with Henry Graham, Roger’s lawyer and caretaker had informed him that he was broke. He had to move into Section 8 housing that is for the indigent. Of course, Roger’s Section 8 housing was an apartment on the water’s edge in a luxury community. Apparently, the lawyer was good for something. Furthermore, Roger was good at keeping up appearances as he maintained a membership at the private Bohemian Club in San Francisco.

Andy McCormack remarked on more than one occasion about Roger’s visits to the Webster House that he was afraid that he would find a reason to sue him. I asked Andy what he meant by that and he said explained that Roger liked to sue people. He was always looking for a way to make money through a frivolous lawsuit. So, before he arrives, “Susan and I always make certain the steps are clear and the rugs are firmly on the floor.” I understood, and then wondered about his coming to my house with all of the stairs and porches.

Roger was having trouble with his car. Actually, he could not drive his car as his license was revoked due to a DUI infraction. He asked me if I would drive him to pick up a new chase lounge that he purchased from an exclusive garden store in Berkeley. While my schedule was busy I agreed and my wife said she would come too.

We picked up Roger and he mentioned that he had another errand along the way in Berkeley. He needed some mending work on a kimono. We said no problem and we stopped in where the owner was very familiar with Roger and after some conversation we picked up the repaired kimono and headed to the garden center.

At the garden center, we picked up a huge lacquered oak chase lounge. This piece of furniture was huge and heavy. I managed to get it into my station wagon without assistance. We drove to his house and I hauled the monster to his second floor apartment and onto the balcony.

This was the first time inside his place and it was handsomely designed and appointed. It did not appear to be a pauper’s residence, though it surely was. Before leaving he explained that he was going to have surgery and that the lounge would be his place to recover. We learned at that point he was suffering from cancer.

Rumors about Roger’s financial problems circulated quietly, though we did not attend to gossip.

Roger had his surgery and after a few months was back on the party scene. He said to me privately that he was going to Sotheby’s to an auction. His aim was to buy a vintage Jaguar. Once again, Roger’s story intersects with that of Henry Graham, A New Leaf, because Henry had to give up his Jaguar as he could not afford the constant maintenance to remove “carbon from the valves.”

The difference is that Roger wanted that Jaguar, even though it would take every last dollar of his to win it at auction. Roger played chess, not checkers. He asked Sotheby’s to verify and validate every last fact and specification about the Jaguar and to insure its authenticity which they did.

He was driving his new vintage Jaguar down the street and in front of Frederica’s he claimed his horn became stuck and he could not turn it off. He left his honking horn and went up the steps of Frederica’s porch and rang the bell. He said that he could hear her singing in the background, and she stopped to answer his ring.

He introduced himself and asked to use the telephone to call an auto repair center as his horn was stuck. She bought the story and he called a repair center. He thanked her profusely and said that he would return to pay her back for her hospitality by making her a fresh jar of strawberry jam.

Apparently she was charmed and delighted. Roger went to the car, disconnected the horn and drove home. Later that week he returned to Frederica’s with the jelly and a friendship began that resulted in his receiving free concert tickets at her local performance. You see, that is how Roger works.

Roger had a screenplay that he desperately wanted read, bought, and produced. I have them too. I understand the desire to happen upon someone who would give it a read. Roger knew that Bernadette Peters was going to perform in San Francisco.  His plan was to ask Lady Gravenstein to accompany him to the performance and that he would arrange to see Miss Peters after the performance at which time he would hand to her the script for her reading.

Apparently everything went according to plan and Bernadette took the script. Elated, Roger escorted Lady Gravenstein to her car in a parking lot where they were met by a thief. The thief attempted to grab Lady’s purse while Roger ran to the other side of the car. According to Lady, the thief tried to kick her and missed, striking and denting her car. She put up such resistance that the thief ran away. She was so disgusted by Roger’s lack of manliness that she almost made him walk home.