Archive for January, 2012

Y Dances

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

The most memorable thing about the Friday night Y-Dances to me was Wendie Miller’s perfect flip.  I don’t know why, because, to be honest, she wore that flip every single day to school. Okay, sometimes Wendie had just a simple — but thick — and also perfect ponytail.  When Friday nights rolled around in the fall and those dances became the highlight of our week, I would long to achieve the Wendie Miller “do.”

My mother had gone to beauty school, so she knew her way around the current hairstyles, but makeup was more her specialty.  She worked as assistant to George Masters, the famous makeup artist.  Together, they did people like Ann-Margaret and Jackie Kennedy.  But there I was, nearly a midget.  (Sorry, I have always called myself that, even though it is not politically correct.  Let’s pretend it’s still the 60’s.  Midget.  Shortest girl in my grade.  Except maybe Susan Slutsky, who was a touch shorter.  No, I’m not being politically incorrect again — her last name really was Slutsky.) (more…)

1309 Promenade

Sunday, January 22nd, 2012

My first home as a grown up was so bitchin. It just was. The location was movie set worthy. Right on the Strand, same beachfront as the Santa Monica Pier just steps away. The little funky bungalows and homes were an art colony. We were all actors, musicians and, okay, one sweet guy was our local postman. I lived there with my boyfriend and my beloved, fat Siamese cat Cosmo.

When the boyfriend was either at work or school, I would crank the heat way up, shut all the windows and fall into a near coma of sleep. It’s a miracle I survived and didn’t succumb to carbon monoxide poisoning. Cosmo would get hungry while I slept and feed himself; not an easy task because he had to climb up on a shelf, knock the box down, pull out an individually wrapped bag, open it with his teeth, then paw out each piece of dry food. He was very respectful of my sleep, never waking me up.

On many of these days, I feel like my life might have been saved by my friend Peter. He would come wake me up around noon so we could head over to our favorite little Mexican place on Pico — Campos (for taquitos). These were the days that I never ate breakfast and went straight to lunch upon waking.

asleep in my beach bungalow


(Zarider) and Devine Intervention

Saturday, January 14th, 2012

When my first child, Oliver, was in pre-school, there was the perfunctory final meeting with his group of loving teachers.  One bit of advice stood out.  Maybe when he starts kindergarten, you can encourage him to lose the costume and makeup that he insists on wearing daily.

Who was I to discourage the distinctive fashion choice of my four-and-a-half year old son?  I wore costumes to school every single day of my life — in high school, mostly.  One day I might wear holsters and fake guns.  Next, I might walk my plastic duck on a leash into the classroom, take out a toy tea set and have a pretend tea party.  And I miss my matador costume; I would wear that right now if I still had it.

So there was Oliver in “big boy school” and he decided to not wear the face paint, but he did rock his new 1950’s-style greaser jacket.  He had just seen the movie “Grease.” (more…)

I’m Not Ready For My Close Up!

Saturday, January 7th, 2012

signed Buddy Bregman picture, for sale on Ebay

Live in 5-4-3-2-1, Fredrica

To hear this story, please view the clip that goes with it.


And now I will tell you my behind the scenes story.

My dad produced a live rock and roll television show on Sunday nights on NBC in the late 50’s called Music Shop. My brother and I did get to hula hoop in the pilot for this show.  But, I was a nudge.  Ha, like was a nudge, past tense.   I think my first words were, “Daddy, I want to be an actress, let me star in something”.  If my dad had something going, he would often humor me and give me a small role.  But, this was my first role.  Not much of one, really.  James Darren sang his hit song Gidget to me.    Oh, just watch the clip and let me finish with the other part of this story. (more…)