Hey-ho, it’s Rey. The Boss is being pulled in 10 different directions these days, so we told her we’d be happy to take over for a wee bit. We put our heads together and came up with a plan to write three posts re three events in three periods from three [pretty] gals: past, present, and prospect, as in future (got that one from Lindy-Loo).
We’re daring to share three major [and private] past events—ones we can’t forget ‘cause they were emotional, moving, or plain out and out embarrassing.
1. You may have guessed I’m flirty. It’s fun. Hold that thought . . . walk back. It was fun once upon a time ago. Nowadays, it’s just entertaining. Like me. Back when I had my first and only 9-5 job, I was a Production Assistant for a way-too-serious dude named Fletch. He was a doc director, who made movies about miracles. I used to flirt shamelessly back then (which got me oodles of attention and free drinks). Anyway, I made the mistake of flirting with Howie, the assistant director one night while a bunch of us were at a bar. Things went from bad to worse. He fell in love and became my shadow. I had to tell Fletch. He was so not happy and ordered me to set things straight. Howie cried foul when I told him to remove those blinding stars from his eyes. After a major scene that would have done any soap opera proud, I got canned. Me. Can you imagine!?
2. While we’re on the topic of men, you must know I’ve been married three times. There was Monty the gaffer, Fabio the community theater actor, and Lester the catering assistant. I left Cecil, a video editor, at the altar. What no one knows—not even Cousin Jilly—is that I had a pretty serious relationship with a pastor. Just after completing that second-rate series Flings and Frolic in Fresno I was feeling kinda lost and churchy, so I joined a local religious group. No, I didn’t get flirty with Pastor Tir, but we did connect and became coffee and movie mates. Long story short, he thought I should put my great personality and acting to good use, and asked me to take over Sunday school classes. I was never good relating to kids, but I gave it a shot (I’m an actress after all and can handle any role). I really starting liking the kids (too much) and weekly “lessons”. Because acting was my chosen profession (and I was getting too “soft”), I walked away. Confession? I still regret it.
3. This one you can never tell JJ or Linda. They’d never let me forget. . . . Huh? Ugh, you’re right—I guess they’ll know now. <LMAO> Early in my career, I had a fringe-theater acting gig for a couple of months. One scene had me wearing nothing more than my birthday suit. The reviews were pretty decent, but I always wondered if I didn’t sell myself short . . . or out.
1. My cousin Rey and I didn’t get along much when we were younger, and when we got together—courtesy of summer family vacations—the trouble we caused, oh my. Those holidays were filled with squabbles (and resulting black eyes or bruised lips) or embarrassing events—like the time we came across a moonshine still (turned out to be a smoker) and decided to take it for a ride, so to speak. The lakeside community is still talking about the explosion that took out four sheds, two SUVs, a lean-to, and an outhouse. That someone’s dog ended up hairless still haunts me.
2. I never knew my father, not even his name. My mother has always refused to talk about him, other than that one time to tell me he’d been killed climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. I’d boasted to schoolmates that “Edmund H” Fonne was an explorer and adventurer, and his last planned exploration—before returning home to his beloved family—had been a fateful trip to Tanzania. Lately, I’ve started thinking about him again. As a P.I., maybe I should start P.I.’ing. But what if I discover something that’s better left buried? What a conundrum: to detect and expose or to neglect and forget?
3. While we have a family that leans toward [very] eccentric, I’ve always been [fairly] level-headed. But I’ll admit that I’ve always envied—and desired to be like—my crazy, now-deceased sister Reena Jean. She was exciting and unpredictable, a true thrill-seeker. She’d chain herself to trees or cars or people for causes, travel the globe on a dime and borrowed gym bag to visit obscure sites or meet up with infamous characters. I couldn’t help but admire that courage—or recklessness as some called it. That fateful day when she struggled onto a pier during a Category 4 hurricane and challenged Mother Nature to “bring it on” was so cool. Mother Nature complied by yanking Reena Jean into a raging ocean. It’s hard not to admire that zest for life . . . even if it cost Reena Jean hers.
1. I never shared my married life with Rey and JJ. Barely 18, I married this super talented, great-looking jazz musician named Chiffre Royale, a brilliant sax player featured on several notable artists’ albums. The guy was twice my age, but oh-so-cool. When we chatted at that festival, he seemed so into me. Who knew that far-out look and attitude was due to drugs? Not me; I was too pie-eyed and naïve. Chiffre died in a fleabag motel of a heroin overdose one night after a gig. The call came at 4 a.m. and at 8 a.m. I was on my way to Cali with nothing more than a duffel bag filled with clothes and a head full of memories.
2. I’m not overly knowledgeable about my past. My mother had two kids they always said, but there were three of us. Who flunked math? JJ never knew her father and Rey has some scattered memories regarding hers, but my parents are ghosts; even the tales told by relatives were ghost stories. Unlike JJ, though, I have no desire to learn anything about my history. Some things are truly better left buried.
3. This one makes me laugh, especially when I look at photos. Rey hasn’t been the only one to dress-up in silly costumes. I once earned money dressed as a globe-round pig with a pork-pie hat and checkered bow tie. For six months, I stood outside a fairly successful fast-food joint as Paulina Porker, and waved and oinked at customers. It was the only way I could make ends meet. It was okay, though—live and learn, and all that. Mind you, I’ve never looked at pork the same way since. <ROTFL>
I’m sure we were all being careful about which “events” to share (‘cause if I recall a few dozen doozies, so can they). Maybe, with time, we’ll share more. There’s something soul-cleansing and guilt-releasing about purging. Sometimes, though, you need to do it in dribs and drabs.
JJ’ll be here on the weekend with some present-day offerings.