Bette Midler. You have to go all the way back to Elton John. Then there was Cat Stevens, and Brinsley Schwartz, and David Bowie, and Grootna, and the Rowan Brothers. Bette Midler could be just another hype. “But this girl can really SING!” Yeah, I know that. And Danny Cater can hit the long ball. They say for the nth time, that Bette Midler is the star of the seventies. Landau said it, Rolling Stone’s said it. Word’s definitively out on Bette Midler. Typical success story. Extremely bosomy girl seen by big name as singing waitress in Village; signs her to sing in Continental Baths, well-known hip-cum-homosexual-cum-sauna “place to be seen”; she sings, well; society people begin to show at baths; history is made; extremely bosomy ex-waitress becomes “The Divine Miss M.” Periodically, I take it upon myself to slog into Boston, muscle my way past the heads, and actually see a rock show. I’m being taken to see “Miss M.” We shall see.
