Has it been noted anywhere that three S. Gottliebs are practicing medicine in Baltimore -- Stephen Gottlieb, Sheldon Gottlieb and Sidney Gottlieb -- and they're all cardiologists, albeit with separate practices and slightly different specialties? (This is all original material, folks, not a word comes from Henny Youngman.)
Stephen focuses on heart failure, Sheldon on gerontology, Sidney on coronary artery disease. Stephen is affiliated with University of Maryland Hospital, Sheldon with The Johns Hopkins Bayview Medical Center; Sidney has a private practice. During their years in Baltimore, the S. Gottliebs have established collegial relationships -- and a system for smoothly forwarding each other the inevitably mixed-up mail.
This week the S. Gottliebs joined with the American Heart Association to be hosts of a conference focusing on "Gottlieb approaches to cardiology." You'd think naming this conference would be simple. It wasn't. One of the S's -- I forget which; I can keep this straight only for so long -- came up with the "First Annual Amadeus Symposium On Heart Disease." (Gottlieb is German for God's love; Amadeus is the Latin equivalent. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born Wolfgang Gottlieb in 1756, according to "The Complete Mozart," by Philips Classics. He became a composer instead of a doctor, which I think his mother wanted him to be, or whatever.)
"It was a serious conference," reports Stephen, the youngest (he says) of the Gottlieb heart guys. "It was attended by cardiologists, internists and medical students. We each gave lectures and answered questions about how aggressive to be in treating heart problems in different situations." Each person in attendance received an "I'm Not Gottlieb" button (except for the Gottliebs, of course). This could be the start of something big. I expect an international symposium to come of this, with global Gottliebs meeting under the "We Are The World, We Are The Gottliebs" banner to solve mankind's medical problems. Eat your heart out, Dr. Gallo.
Wednesday, which was dreary and wet and reminiscent of the first slick December afternoon I visited this city 21 years ago, I found shelter about 50 paces off Cathedral Street in the old Schaefer ballroom of the Baltimore School for the Arts. I also found no small amount of affirmation that all is not lost -- an excellent performance of "The Nutcracker" by talented young students who exhibited the kind of mature elegance found in a lot of professional road companies. They'd obviously rehearsed long and hard. Their entrances were sharp, their dance movements fine in every detail. There wasn't a klutz among them. They were handsome and pretty -- Snow Queen and snowflakes, Cossacks and fairies the way good ol' Tchaikovsky intended them. No names here, I loved them all. And so did the matinee audience of elementary school kids; they oohed and aahed. Kelly and Cal Ripken sponsored this year's performances, and that might be some of the best money the Rips ever put out. You should see these kids. They're terrific. (And they have four more shows this weekend.)
Regi Elion, who sold her popular Federal Hill bistro a couple of years ago, says she has reinvented herself. She will emerge from her hiatus next month with a shop on 36th Street ("The Avenue" in Hampdenese) called Cheap Chic, specializing in good used furniture -- "Stuff I pick up in alleys in Roland Park" -- wrapped in vintage fabrics. She'll work with Nancy Wertheimer, who's made a name for herself fashioning decorative accessories out of 1940s-style fabrics and old quilts. "What can I tell ya?" Regi says. "I'm an old hippy who wants to stay young. I'm going with all the new kids on the Avenue."
Women of mystery
I swear: An attractive woman came up to me in front of the Senator Theater the other night and announced that, one of these days, she wants to demonstrate her "grape leaf rolling machine" for me. Ah, it's a wonderful life. . . . Then, when we pay for a prosciuttini-and-provolone sandwich at Apicella's in Little Italy, the woman who takes our money is wearing a black velvet jacket split to reveal a very fetching belly button. And she's reading a Marguerite Duras novel!
So far, my favorite computer feature: The "ignore" switch in online chat rooms. If there's someone in the room who's annoying you -- like the madman I caught the other night rapidly repeating the phrase, "I'm Shouting!" -- you can call up his user profile and click the "ignore" switch. You'll never hear from the dope again -- no matter how many messages he sends. Ah, if real life were only that simple.
Dorothy Day calendar
Willa Bickham and Brendan Walsh, who run Viva House in Southwest Baltimore, have produced a hand-drawn 1997 calendar to celebrate the life of Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day and the history of people struggling for justice. It's a gem, full of artwork produced over the years by Bickham and other Viva House associates. The suggested donation is $10 per calendar; the money supports Viva House's services for the poor and the Sowebo Center for Justice.
Reader poll: Multi-colored arrays of outdoor Christmas lights are hot again; the tasteful all-white motif is in decline. Is this a trend? Has American finally had enough of Martha Stewart? You tell me. Contact Dan Rodricks with comment or folklore at 332-6166, or by e-mail at TJIDAol.com.
Pub Date: 12/13/96