People

Marsha Boulton September 10 1979

People

Marsha Boulton September 10 1979

People

At 32, Winnipeg songbird Burton Cummings feels he has finally “arrived.” The grand old man of The Guess Who banded together with his CBC Superspecial which will be broadcast next November, and the fans couldn’t stop screaming. The din was even more heartfelt at St. John’s High School, Cummings’ alma mater,where he reunited with his first quintet, The Deverons, and sent the entire gymnasium packed with juvenile boppers half his age into panting bubble-gum fits. Casual, comfortable and sporting a less-than-adolescent midriff bulge, Cummings seems to be mellowing with age, though he is still hypersensitive to criticism. Recent rave reviews pleased, surprised and irritated him simultaneously. “For 15 years the press had nothing good to say. Now they decide I’m the best voice in rock ’n’ roll. Well, I could have told them that,” he says with a toss of his tousled, brunet locks.

Sigmund Freud held that a person’s emotional development ends at the age of 5. Toronto psychiatrist Tom Verny would add three months to Freud’s calculations. “From six months on, the unborn child is capable of thoughts and feelings. Furthermore, everything it experiences is permanently recorded in its memory,” says Verny, 43, who bases his in-utero theories on seven years of research involving 300 patients who, he says, were able to recall their life before birth through “primal therapy.” Verny will fully explain the reasons he believes we form opinions before we can breathe on our own in a book titled The Psychic Life of the Unborn, which he is billing as “the first prenatal psychology book.” The subject has proved so topical that U.S. publishers embarked on a bidding war for the property, which resulted in a $150,000 advance for Verny and co-author John Kelly. It was one of the largest hard-cover advances ever received by a Canadian author. Fittingly, the book itself was in its embryonic stages when it was purchased. Verny received his jumbo advance on the basis of an outline and just one chapter.

The idea of a disco horror flick that takes place on the night of the senior prom doesn’t jar Jamie Lee Curtis. “The atmosphere of high school can be incredibly cruel,” says the 20-year-old daughter of Janet Leigh and Tony Curtis, who seems to be making a career out of horror. Her first film, Halloween, dealt with murder and mayhem on trick-ortreat night; she followed that with the soon-to-be-released chiller, The Fog, and she’s currently working on Prom Night, which features a berserk boogier who butchers to the tune of the Bee Gees. Curtis herself has few fond memories of her school days and admits that having to hustle before the cameras in a high-school gym in Don Mills, Ontario, makes her feel “like a student againtrapped.” After one year at Beverly Hills High School, she left because “initials like PC [Pierre Cardin] on students’ clothes meant more than As, Bs, or Cs on their reports.” A chain of schools followed until she decided that acting was probably “the best kind of college.” Unlike many children of Hollywood, Curtis had the full support of her parents when she decided to enter the celluloid business. “They were proud, just as a plumber would be, that I wanted to do what they had chosen for themselves.”

Calgary schoolteacher Sandy Drever dropped by the post office this summer to buy some stamps and did a double take when she noticed an announcement about a new stamp. The 17cent stamp, which commemorates the World Field Hockey Championship held last month in Vancouver, depicts two women players in action. One of the players is none other than Drever, the 29-year-old captain of the Canadian women’s team, who appears despite a post-office rule that no living person can share billing with the Royal Family on Canadian stamps. The discovery that Drever is recognizable has caused some consternation within post-office circles, since they have had to admit that their artist Jonathan Eby did not alter the figures beyond recognition as was intended. Drever, however, is quite pleased. “Most people won’t know it’s me, but I’m going to send lots and lots of letters.”

The flower of the Montreal Canadiens, Guy Lafleur, always finds interesting ways to spend his off-ice hours. His current idea of relaxing is riding his new Harley-Davidson or breaking away in his Ferrari, which has left him little time for his past passions—poetry and bubble baths. Lafleur is hot for discos, too. “Sometimes I dance, but mostly I just watch people. I dance on the ice instead,” says the well-groomed right winger. He must know something about dancing, however, because this month he makes his disco recording debut with an album designed to teach tykes how to shake their skates in time to his instructional voice-over. Also for the chil-

dren, Lafleur will be bringing out a series of toiletries which features hockeypuck soap. For older fans, he-man Lafleur has a cosmetics and fragrance line. “It was terrible, there were 25 different kinds,” he says of his month-long “sniff test” ordeal to find the perfect smell to wear his No. 10 signature.

Character actress Lorraine Gary is the matriarch of a thousand families. She has appeared in more than 70 TV shows, always as the mother, sister or wife, and followed that up by playing Roy Scheider’s wife in Jaws and Jaws II. “I would love to be cast as a seductress of 42,” says the ash-blonde matron. Currently on view in Just You and Me, Kid with octogenarian George Burns, Gary came closer to her goal by playing Burns’s nagging daughter but found the role incestuously empty because of “lust on my part and disinterest on his.” The relative syndrome is hard to break, claims Gary, whose next role is in the long-awaited Steven Spielberg comedy, 19\1. Her role? A housewife under siege.

The latest entrant in the Olivia Newton-John look-alike sweepstakes is 26-year-old Ellen Foley, but after the initial shock of their nearly identical grins ends, so does the comparison. Foley is a Missouri rocker with a range somewhere between Patti Smith and Linda Ronstadt. Her first big break came when she was featured on Meat Loaf’s hefty album Bat Out of Hell and since then she has struck out on her own with an album called Nightout. Though it has only been released for a few weeks, it’s expected to go gangbusters in Japan, where Foley has become some-

what of a cult figure. “Having blonde hair is a real shoo-in in Japan,” explains Foley, who claims she takes on characters on stage to express her sexual and emotional self. Though she finds New Wave music too “linear,” Foley is attracted by the outrageous nature of punk music. “In New York there’s a punk singer who picks up a carton of milk and starts to drink it. Green slime comes out of the carton and oozes over his body,” she recalls with awed enthusiasm. “It’s great to be entertained, but I don’t throw any green slime.”

It’s no official secret that Montreal engineer Peter Treu is having a hard time making ends meet these days. In 1974 an RCMP raiding party took 500 pounds of paper from Treu’s basement and found that about 18 pounds of it were classified material. Treu claimed he had been authorized to have the stuff but that, unbeknownst to him, his security clearance to work on NATO projects had been lifted three months earlier. The court case, conviction and subsequent vindication on appeal cost Treu almost $30,000 and contributed to the breakup of his marriage. Now “completely disillusioned with Canada,” 58year-old Treu is working as a sales manager for International Telephone & Telegraph Canada Ltd. In his off-hours he is seeking $150,000 in federal compensation for his ordeal. Justice Minister Jacques Flynn is expected to rule on Treu’s compensation shortly. Treu says g he will sue if it isn’t forthcoming, ¿claiming: “I didn’t violate the Official $ Secrets Act—the government violated § me.” Edited by Marsha Boulton