Pierre Cossette

Grammy Awards executive producer Pierre Cossette sits behind the cherry desk in his corner office in the Beverly Hills building where he's ridden herd over the telecast for the last 34 years. Just four days before Sunday's show, when you'd expect the office to be crackling with activity, it's eerily quiet. It's midday, but only three people are around: Cossette; his wife, Mary; and his secretary. They appear almost boxed in by vacant desks, the phones all but silent.

Pierre Cossette, the avuncular old-school talent agent, manager, music mogul and Broadway producer often called the father of the Grammy Awards telecast for persuading nervous TV executives to put "longhairs with high heels and makeup" on a live national broadcast in 1971, died Friday. He was 85. Cossette, who had suffered in recent years with congestive heart failure, died at Barrie Memorial Hospital in Montreal, not far from his family's summer home in St. Anicet. "He had a rough few years medically, but his spirit and sense of humor never left him," Ken Ehrlich, the longtime Grammy Awards producer, said Friday shortly after learning of Cossette's death.

Pierre Cossette, the avuncular old-school talent agent, manager, music mogul and Broadway producer often called the father of the Grammy Awards telecast for persuading nervous TV executives to put "longhairs with high heels and makeup" on a live national broadcast in 1971, died Friday. He was 85. Cossette, who had suffered in recent years with congestive heart failure, died at Barrie Memorial Hospital in Montreal, not far from his family's summer home in St. Anicet. "He had a rough few years medically, but his spirit and sense of humor never left him," Ken Ehrlich, the longtime Grammy Awards producer, said Friday shortly after learning of Cossette's death.

Grammy Awards executive producer Pierre Cossette sits behind the cherry desk in his corner office in the Beverly Hills building where he's ridden herd over the telecast for the last 34 years. Just four days before Sunday's show, when you'd expect the office to be crackling with activity, it's eerily quiet. It's midday, but only three people are around: Cossette; his wife, Mary; and his secretary. They appear almost boxed in by vacant desks, the phones all but silent.

Low puns and big plans are catting around at the office of producer Pierre Cossette, who's just bought film rights to Cleveland Amory's best seller, "The Cat Who Came for Christmas." "We're going to have a cat call," quipped Cossette. "If things don't work out, I suppose it'll be a cat-astrophe." He intends to hold kitty kasting kalls in six cities before narrowing the field to 12 cat-i-dates for screen testing. The purr-fect candidate? "A cat you fall instantly in love with."

Will Rogers would have loved the idea. After all, the cowboy humorist, dead these many years, had never met a showman (or showwoman) he didn't like. Here was an oversize mailer, designed as a striking period piece: A re-created Saturday Evening Post cover . . . a pencil and wash drawing of a smiling, perplexed Rogers, lasso in one hand . . . inside, sketches of anatomically extended chorus girls, early Esquire style . . .

Scouting's Best Friends know how to have fun. Celebrating the Diamond Jubilee of the Boy Scouts of America this week at the new Century Plaza Tower, the hierarchy presented Diamond Jubilee Tribute awards to former President Gerald R. Ford and Margaret Martin Brock and honored the Hon. Leonard K. Firestone, former ambassador to Belgium, in absentia. But it was a carefully constructed night, as one would expect from the organization that does its "best to do its duty."

Ray Charles, Fats Domino, B.B. King, Isaac Stern, Hank Williams and Igor Stravinsky have been named among the recipients of lifetime achievement awards by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. The awards are given to performers who have made outstanding artistic contributions to the field of recording.

It had to happen sooner or later. With one coffeehouse for about every 10 Angelenos, it was a matter of time before someone decided to launch the first Coffeehouse Festival. The festival, offering an "eclectic array of entertainment," according to the press release, runs Feb. 7-16. Participating java joints are Highland Grounds, Congo Square, Iguana Cafe and the pikme-up.

Will Rogers would have loved the idea. After all, the cowboy humorist, dead these many years, had never met a showman (or showwoman) he didn't like. Here was an oversize mailer, designed as a striking period piece: A re-created Saturday Evening Post cover . . . a pencil and wash drawing of a smiling, perplexed Rogers, lasso in one hand . . . inside, sketches of anatomically extended chorus girls, early Esquire style . . .

Low puns and big plans are catting around at the office of producer Pierre Cossette, who's just bought film rights to Cleveland Amory's best seller, "The Cat Who Came for Christmas." "We're going to have a cat call," quipped Cossette. "If things don't work out, I suppose it'll be a cat-astrophe." He intends to hold kitty kasting kalls in six cities before narrowing the field to 12 cat-i-dates for screen testing. The purr-fect candidate? "A cat you fall instantly in love with."

I admire the position taken by the three rap acts in boycotting the Grammy Awards ("Grammy Nominees in Rap Promise Boycott," Feb. 10). I wished in past years that the jazz artists and jazz labels had the courage to do the same. For years, I had fought with the National Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences to include at least one jazz artist on the telecast, but they couldn't be bothered with jazz--ironically, when Mike Melvoin, a self-professed jazz musician, was president of NARAS.

John Denver will replace Kenny Rogers as host of this year's telecast of the Grammy Awards on CBS, the network said Friday. In explaining his decision to withdraw from the Feb. 26 assignment, Rogers said: "The telecast requires a host who is able to devote enough time to prepare properly for the show.