Betty Rowland

In her one-bedroom apartment in Brentwood, Betty Rowland recently thumbed through a pile of fan mail scattered on her dining room table. The letters sat next to seven photographs of her as a burlesque dancer in the 1940s and '50s, wearing risque outfits and, in one case, appearing topless. It reminded Rowland, 93, of what she saw when she went to the Ahmanson Theatre on Feb.

In her one-bedroom apartment in Brentwood, Betty Rowland recently thumbed through a pile of fan mail scattered on her dining room table. The letters sat next to seven photographs of her as a burlesque dancer in the 1940s and '50s, wearing risque outfits and, in one case, appearing topless. It reminded Rowland, 93, of what she saw when she went to the Ahmanson Theatre on Feb.

Mark Medina's wonderful piece on Betty Rowland, a surviving Minsky's girl, was sensational ["Minsky's Girl Lives On," Feb. 27]. We are a society that is obsessed with glorifying the worst in mankind, and seeing this great piece about a still-vibrant woman was life-affirming and inspirational. Craig Carr West Hills

Betty Rowland, stripteasing's "Original Ball of Fire," is alive and well and may be found behind the bar at Mr. B's in Santa Monica. She is gracious and of good heart, and she laughed when told that a letter to the Book Review (May 15) claimed that what she, in contrast to Charles Bukowski, "exposed was well-made and worthy of scrutiny." Although at least two of those who admired her performances more than 25 years ago read or write to the Book Review's Letter section, that, admittedly, is not inconsistent with the letter writer's assertion that her audience was "not exceptionally literate."

I enjoyed Suzanne Lummis' tribute to Charles Bukowski (April 10). Thank you for publishing it. I attended the March 26 event at Arundel. For another take on what happened that evening, please note the enclosed poem. The Wake Buk died and Andernach slept another day and the wake was held at a bookstore and maybe 3 poets and 30 typists and 300 secret poets showed up only two drunks showed up and one of them was dead and they read oh God how they read the tall one read the fat one read the long-haired the disheveled the despondent the joyous the terrified the ex-lover and mother of his child they all read and some called him "bue-kowski" and some called him "boo-kowski" and they kept reading they kept putting it out over the radio waves they kept it up for hours and through it all there seemed to be someone up into the ceiling somewhere, like a raging vapor there was much shouting and cursing (I heard this)

At once amusing, raucous and poignant, Leslie Zemeckis' "Behind the Burly Q" is the most comprehensive documentary on burlesque ever made, smoothly incorporating rare vintage stills, interviews and footage. Zemeckis, who has performed her own burlesque show, focuses on virtually all the top strippers of burlesque's golden era of the '30s through the '50s but also includes comics, straight men, musicians and novelty acts. These survivors are a hearty, robust group with a great sense of humor and colorful, often hilarious but sometimes painful memories.

It's a common L.A. story: regulars at a local spot find their favorite hangout has been taken over by a new, younger crowd. In recent years, the Shamrock and the Three of Clubs in Hollywood, and the Dresden Room in Los Feliz have all been rediscovered and re-christened as hot spots. Downtown Santa Monica, quickly altered by the gentrified Third Street Promenade, has seen changes at its neighborhood haunts as well. Some, like the ultra-divey Wind & Sea, have gone out of business.

This isn't the first time the faithful who built St. Vibiana's Cathedral have sought to demolish it. After the turn of the century, the church anchored the cultural spine of a growing city, and theaters lined the dirt-road, horse-trodden Main Street. But Bishop Thomas J. Conaty wanted to build a new, immense domed cathedral on 9th Street. Although the bishop received papal permission in 1904 to tear down St.

In a wetland meadow high in the Never Summer Range of the Rockies, the Colorado River begins its 1,450-mile journey to the sea. Snowdrifts 5- to 10-feet deep block the trail head until mid-June, giving hardy hikers, anglers and hunters only a brief window to visit the Colorado's chill headwaters before snow returns in September.

In the art of striptease, Betty Rowland says, the emphasis was always on tease. She should know. At 81, burlesque's redheaded "Ball of Fire" still burns brightly as the grande dame of bumps and grinds. To listen to her cheeky memories is to return to an era when men brought dates to burlesque shows, the bump and grind and the German Roll were separate arts, and the dancer who touched her body while she was dancing ran the risk of going to jail.

IT'S midmorning in the 1920s building where Liz Goldwyn lives with her Hollywood ghosts, and you can hear the palm trees rustling outside as soon as the elevator opens. The foyer is guarded by two mannequins that once belonged to Vogue editor Diana Vreeland, and there's a photo of her grandfather Samuel Goldwyn in his glory days as studio head. Goldwyn, 29, stands up from her desk in a short plum jersey Azzedine Alaia dress and matching Christian Louboutin booties.