Safe to say that had Big Joe and I been given the choice as to which family member we wanted to be left standing alone with, it wouldn't be the way it turned out. My father had a larger than life way about him as a key component to his personality. Ralph Edwards' son said, upon meeting him, "he takes up all the air in the room."
His grief took all the air out of me. He arrived in Los Angeles and left the next morning. Details are unimportant.
And, then he was missing...for four weeks. Driving cross country ... Thanksgiving...no word from him. My mom's birthday was December 14th. It was on a Saturday that year. The phone rang. Again, details unimportant. My father's way of dealing with things was outwardly expressed anger including abusive verbal tirades directed at the person who had displeased him. Nothing new here. This one explicitly covered how I'd let him down when he needed me most, ending with "I want your mother's jewelry back".
I hung up in tears and called Bruce, who was really, really angry at my father. I had an ally who saw my father as the bully he could be.
Bruce called my father. He kindly, but firmly, let him know that while he had lost his wife and son, I had lost my mother and brother. He wasn't the only one suffering. My father called me back and said "I know he loves you". Huh??? The words "I'm sorry would never pass his lips".
I think I decided then and there I would marry Bruce Belland.
Guess I still believed in that "knight in shining armor" theory.
In a word...OY!!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Next New Normal
I called my father, expecting to hear there had been a car accident, but no.
My brother committed suicide.
I went back to my apartment and Bruce was there. I have no memory of how he knew but he tried to comfort me. Again, I was numb. Even number than I'd been when my Mom died because I'd known that was where we were heading. This had come out of no where.
Once again I was in Long Island at the same funeral home, in the same room, looking at the same casket.
It serves no purpose to go through those horrendous days in detail. The overwhelming shock, sadness and disbelief was the theme. No one knew what to say. In 1978, if suicide happened at all, it certainly didn't happen in nice families from Locust Valley. Throughout the years so much more was to be revealed to me but right then, right there all I could think was "why?". And feel horrible that I hadn't known what he was going through.
My father was shaken to his core. He was even more irrational than I would have imagined. We both went to Minneapolis following the funeral. My father picked up my brother's car and I flew from there onto Los Angeles. He decided he'd drive out to stay with me.
As he left me at the Minneapolis airport his parting words were, "I would understand this better if it had been you."
To say I wasn't looking forward to his arrival in Los Angeles was an understatement.
I went back to work. I think my first show was Midnight Special.
I loved Wolfman Jack.
My brother committed suicide.
I went back to my apartment and Bruce was there. I have no memory of how he knew but he tried to comfort me. Again, I was numb. Even number than I'd been when my Mom died because I'd known that was where we were heading. This had come out of no where.
Once again I was in Long Island at the same funeral home, in the same room, looking at the same casket.
It serves no purpose to go through those horrendous days in detail. The overwhelming shock, sadness and disbelief was the theme. No one knew what to say. In 1978, if suicide happened at all, it certainly didn't happen in nice families from Locust Valley. Throughout the years so much more was to be revealed to me but right then, right there all I could think was "why?". And feel horrible that I hadn't known what he was going through.
My father was shaken to his core. He was even more irrational than I would have imagined. We both went to Minneapolis following the funeral. My father picked up my brother's car and I flew from there onto Los Angeles. He decided he'd drive out to stay with me.
As he left me at the Minneapolis airport his parting words were, "I would understand this better if it had been you."
To say I wasn't looking forward to his arrival in Los Angeles was an understatement.
I went back to work. I think my first show was Midnight Special.
I loved Wolfman Jack.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A True Fall...
Sometimes when something truly horrible happens you feel you'll get a pass for a while. The karmic balance sheet has a huge credit so it's time for some debits to pile up. That wasn't how I felt. Ever since my Mother died I'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I kept feeling something else really bad was going to happen. And I was certain it had to do with my father. He was out of control - even more so than usual. He'd discovered dating and was in love with someone new every other week. I am not going into details. Let's just say, had there been caller ID I wouldn't have answered his calls.
My brother was living back in Locust Valley. To Big Joe's consternation, Jody was substitute teaching at our high school and playing golf at the club. This would not do. So, my father found him a job. He went off to Minneapolis to go through management training at a small department store chain -- Donaldsons. You had to know Jody to understand this was the least likely place for him but in my eyes it was better than hanging out with our father.
He moved to Minneapolis in September. He didn't hate it, but as the end of October came around we were both feeling a lot of sadness. It had been almost one year since Emmy had died.
I didn't know then that the "first" of everything after a death takes on deeper, more painful, meaning. The closer to the death you are time wise the deeper your shock is. The first couple of months you go about your life, thinking "this can't be real". Shock can create a numbing distraction but what happens when that wears off is the deep pain of loss when you realize how much you miss that person. It sinks in that you'll never see them again. By the first anniversary the pain might be bearable...until a few days before when you realize it's almost "that day" again. That horrible day.
Another bit of unfortunate timing,. my mother was buried on Halloween and my brother's birthday was the next day, November 1st. Great gift!
It was Halloween and I was working on "Dick Clark Live" sitting in the viewing booth talking to my brother on the NBC tie-line. The extravagance of network television in those days...pick up any phone in the building and give the operator any number and you were connected.
Jody was sad. I was sad. I remember our saying how much we missed Mom. I don't remember much else until we said goodbye. I said, "I guess we're both depressed. But it will get better. Next year you'll have a happier birthday".
He said, "ok". And we hung up.
A week later I was visiting at a friend's house. A phone call came for me from my friend, Pam. She was calling from NBC. She'd been working on a show and the NBC operator had been calling different studios looking for me. Pam took the call and said she knew where I was.
"Call your father", she said.
"Your brother is dead."
My brother was living back in Locust Valley. To Big Joe's consternation, Jody was substitute teaching at our high school and playing golf at the club. This would not do. So, my father found him a job. He went off to Minneapolis to go through management training at a small department store chain -- Donaldsons. You had to know Jody to understand this was the least likely place for him but in my eyes it was better than hanging out with our father.
He moved to Minneapolis in September. He didn't hate it, but as the end of October came around we were both feeling a lot of sadness. It had been almost one year since Emmy had died.
I didn't know then that the "first" of everything after a death takes on deeper, more painful, meaning. The closer to the death you are time wise the deeper your shock is. The first couple of months you go about your life, thinking "this can't be real". Shock can create a numbing distraction but what happens when that wears off is the deep pain of loss when you realize how much you miss that person. It sinks in that you'll never see them again. By the first anniversary the pain might be bearable...until a few days before when you realize it's almost "that day" again. That horrible day.
Another bit of unfortunate timing,. my mother was buried on Halloween and my brother's birthday was the next day, November 1st. Great gift!
It was Halloween and I was working on "Dick Clark Live" sitting in the viewing booth talking to my brother on the NBC tie-line. The extravagance of network television in those days...pick up any phone in the building and give the operator any number and you were connected.
Jody was sad. I was sad. I remember our saying how much we missed Mom. I don't remember much else until we said goodbye. I said, "I guess we're both depressed. But it will get better. Next year you'll have a happier birthday".
He said, "ok". And we hung up.
A week later I was visiting at a friend's house. A phone call came for me from my friend, Pam. She was calling from NBC. She'd been working on a show and the NBC operator had been calling different studios looking for me. Pam took the call and said she knew where I was.
"Call your father", she said.
"Your brother is dead."
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Summer Time
Bruce and I were having a good time together. But, there was definitely drama. The girls were nice to me but very conflicted about their father and mother. Unfortunately, it seemed B&B were conflicted too. As always, hindsight is 20/20 and while Bruce had been in therapy, I hadn't. I had no clue that my attraction to emotionally unavailable men made them my primary interest romantically. But then you don't know what you don't know.
Bruce lived in a large guest house on an amazing old estate in Encino. It had originally belonged to the director of the Maltese Falcon, Michael Cortese. Years earlier, the long hill up to the house now filled with many newer houses, had been a polo field. John Wayne, Clark Gable and many other celebrities of the day had preferred the large acreage available in the San Fernando Valley and, at the time, Encino had been on the edge of no where compared to Hollywood.
I liked "the Valley". I still lived in my charming one bedroom in Toluca Lake opposite Bob Hope's house, about a mile away from NBC. That summer I celebrated my 28th birthday working on Wheel of Fortune in Studio 1, right across the hall from the Tonight Show. The fifteen minute break between shows found me in the hallway outside a dressing room as Henry Fonda opened the door and looked me right in the eye. The Locust Valley girl have turned bright red and scurried away, but after a few years working "in the business" I had discovered something interesting. Celebrities were just people who were famous. And many of them were very, very nice people.
Take the time I was working on Wheel of Fortune. A red-headed woman came in and sat two seats down from me in the empty (security, security, security) front row, cheering for the then host, Chuck Woolery.
She looked over at me and said "I think he's so handsome".
I stammered, "Sure is", back at her.
Chuck looked up and saw her. "Oh my gosh", he said on camera," Lucille Ball is sitting right in the front row."
Back to Henry Fonda...I decided the synchronicity of seeing one of my all time fave's on my birthday was too good to pass up. I walked up to him and said something along the lines of ,
" I can't believe it's you, I've been a fan of yours forever. " He was charming, though, took my hand and said something much more polished in response.
"Today is my 28th birthday and you've made my day", I responded.
"No, you've made mine," he said with a big smile as he walked away.
Bruce lived in a large guest house on an amazing old estate in Encino. It had originally belonged to the director of the Maltese Falcon, Michael Cortese. Years earlier, the long hill up to the house now filled with many newer houses, had been a polo field. John Wayne, Clark Gable and many other celebrities of the day had preferred the large acreage available in the San Fernando Valley and, at the time, Encino had been on the edge of no where compared to Hollywood.
I liked "the Valley". I still lived in my charming one bedroom in Toluca Lake opposite Bob Hope's house, about a mile away from NBC. That summer I celebrated my 28th birthday working on Wheel of Fortune in Studio 1, right across the hall from the Tonight Show. The fifteen minute break between shows found me in the hallway outside a dressing room as Henry Fonda opened the door and looked me right in the eye. The Locust Valley girl have turned bright red and scurried away, but after a few years working "in the business" I had discovered something interesting. Celebrities were just people who were famous. And many of them were very, very nice people.
Take the time I was working on Wheel of Fortune. A red-headed woman came in and sat two seats down from me in the empty (security, security, security) front row, cheering for the then host, Chuck Woolery.
She looked over at me and said "I think he's so handsome".
I stammered, "Sure is", back at her.
Chuck looked up and saw her. "Oh my gosh", he said on camera," Lucille Ball is sitting right in the front row."
Back to Henry Fonda...I decided the synchronicity of seeing one of my all time fave's on my birthday was too good to pass up. I walked up to him and said something along the lines of ,
" I can't believe it's you, I've been a fan of yours forever. " He was charming, though, took my hand and said something much more polished in response.
"Today is my 28th birthday and you've made my day", I responded.
"No, you've made mine," he said with a big smile as he walked away.
Friday, April 8, 2011
26 Miles...
OK - a bit of housekeeping here. I've changed some names...I've left out last names unless people are no longer with us, literally. When I started this blog last summer I had a "conversation" with Bruce. We're Facebook friends and last saw each other at Ralph Edwards' funeral. I told him what I was doing and that I wanted to use his real name. Since the odds of too many people ever seeing this are high, he said "sure, be kind".
Bruce Belland was a Four Prep in the late 1950's and again now...but that's a whole other part of his story. I'll stick to ours. Well, my version of it.
He'd asked me to go to dinner and a Writer's Guild screening. Two weeks from now. In the meantime I was working on Name That Tune. My friend, Judi, knew of my "crush" and how it had - or rather hadn't - turned out after the first date. She encouraged me to "be honest". I wasn't really sure what that meant, only that I was up for a great date and then never hearing from him again, so I decided I would cancel.
I clearly remember calling Bruce at his office from a phone in a dressing room near Studio 3 where Name That Tune was taping. Remember, no cell phones. He wasn't due at the studio until close to taping time and I wanted this over and done by then.
I'm not going to attempt to quote the conversation - the gist was, I can't go..he asked why... I'm not even sure...but I'm not up for having a great time and never hearing from you again. Well, that kind of sounded like I wanted a date and then a marriage proposal. Confusion ensued on my end, but he seemed to be enjoying the conversation. He said it was nice to hear someone be honest and that was what he was looking for.
Little did I know at the time, he'd discussed with his therapist his desire to stop dating around and be "real" with somebody. He had a long card with names and phone numbers on it. When he got to mine he said..."her".
So, I went on the date. And many, many more.
Bruce always made me laugh, which wasn't easy six months after my mom died. We went on long drives in his convertible listening to 8-tracks (OY, did I just say that?). Billy Joel was my favorite. Years later he told me the song "Always a Woman" reminded him of me. Funny, at the time I thought it reminded him of an old girlfriend. I'm not going to write about that relationship because it was "his". But it definitely led to "ours".
Bruce had two daughters. Bruce was 41. I was 27. His daughters were 12 and just about 16. Bruce also had an ex-wife, Brenda. Or, at least I thought she was an ex-wife. Turns out, while they'd been separated for four years, those darn papers just never seemed to get finalized. Brenda had a nutty, wonderful Italian boyfriend, Richard and everybody lived within a two mile radius of one another.
Again, these were the days before modern technology. No cell phones, no answering machines. The "in" thing was a pager and an answering service with live people who could call you for any "emergencies". Doctors, movie stars and Bruce had an answering service and there always seemed to be an "emergency" when we were out on a date. Child related, house related - of course, Brenda and the girls all lived in the family home. When we were first dating the emergencies seemed to center around Tracey's sweet sixteen party at the Magic Castle.
While I had no idea at the time, major discussions between B&B revolved around whether or not I should attend. While B&B were legally separated, let's just say their lives really weren't. I was disrupting the status quo. While he'd dated - a lot - I seemed to be the first one he brought around to meet his parents. Totally out of the blue one night, I might add. I had absolutely no idea of the significance of that meeting, but I guess Brenda did because those emergencies just kept on escalating.
Wouldn't you think I'd think something was just a wee bit off here?
Bruce Belland was a Four Prep in the late 1950's and again now...but that's a whole other part of his story. I'll stick to ours. Well, my version of it.
He'd asked me to go to dinner and a Writer's Guild screening. Two weeks from now. In the meantime I was working on Name That Tune. My friend, Judi, knew of my "crush" and how it had - or rather hadn't - turned out after the first date. She encouraged me to "be honest". I wasn't really sure what that meant, only that I was up for a great date and then never hearing from him again, so I decided I would cancel.
I clearly remember calling Bruce at his office from a phone in a dressing room near Studio 3 where Name That Tune was taping. Remember, no cell phones. He wasn't due at the studio until close to taping time and I wanted this over and done by then.
I'm not going to attempt to quote the conversation - the gist was, I can't go..he asked why... I'm not even sure...but I'm not up for having a great time and never hearing from you again. Well, that kind of sounded like I wanted a date and then a marriage proposal. Confusion ensued on my end, but he seemed to be enjoying the conversation. He said it was nice to hear someone be honest and that was what he was looking for.
Little did I know at the time, he'd discussed with his therapist his desire to stop dating around and be "real" with somebody. He had a long card with names and phone numbers on it. When he got to mine he said..."her".
So, I went on the date. And many, many more.
Bruce always made me laugh, which wasn't easy six months after my mom died. We went on long drives in his convertible listening to 8-tracks (OY, did I just say that?). Billy Joel was my favorite. Years later he told me the song "Always a Woman" reminded him of me. Funny, at the time I thought it reminded him of an old girlfriend. I'm not going to write about that relationship because it was "his". But it definitely led to "ours".
Bruce had two daughters. Bruce was 41. I was 27. His daughters were 12 and just about 16. Bruce also had an ex-wife, Brenda. Or, at least I thought she was an ex-wife. Turns out, while they'd been separated for four years, those darn papers just never seemed to get finalized. Brenda had a nutty, wonderful Italian boyfriend, Richard and everybody lived within a two mile radius of one another.
Again, these were the days before modern technology. No cell phones, no answering machines. The "in" thing was a pager and an answering service with live people who could call you for any "emergencies". Doctors, movie stars and Bruce had an answering service and there always seemed to be an "emergency" when we were out on a date. Child related, house related - of course, Brenda and the girls all lived in the family home. When we were first dating the emergencies seemed to center around Tracey's sweet sixteen party at the Magic Castle.
While I had no idea at the time, major discussions between B&B revolved around whether or not I should attend. While B&B were legally separated, let's just say their lives really weren't. I was disrupting the status quo. While he'd dated - a lot - I seemed to be the first one he brought around to meet his parents. Totally out of the blue one night, I might add. I had absolutely no idea of the significance of that meeting, but I guess Brenda did because those emergencies just kept on escalating.
Wouldn't you think I'd think something was just a wee bit off here?
Spring has Sprung
The respite from dating also provided the same from the drama my relationships seemed to always include. I concentrated on game shows, Midnight Special and a brand new variety show, Dick Clark Live.
Dick Clark Live included interesting, different type of acts. I was assigned to monitor them for authenticity. Why you might ask? Well, to make sure these acts weren't misleading to the viewers. As a bit of back story, NBC had been the network involved in the "Game Show Scandals" of the '50's. The producers of the most well known game shows gave some of the contestants the answers to make for "better television". Problem was this was unfair to the contestants who didn't get the answer and to the viewers who thought, unlike scripted television, everything they were watching was real and honest. So, to be certain this never happened again NBC put in a department called "Compliance and Practices". Standards and Practices dealt with scripted television; C&P with "real" television.
Since Dick Clark Live had magic acts and the like I was a C&P person assigned along with a Standards person to ensure both good taste and honesty came into your home weekly. Dick Clark called us "Frick and Frack". The producer of the show, Bill Lee, had quite a temper. Many producers resented "the Censors"; we thwarted their creativity. Suffice it to say, we got yelled at a lot when things weren't going well. In live television that was quite often.
There would be a dress rehearsal at 11:00AM - 2:00PM on the East Coast. The show would the go "live" at 5:00PM - to the East Coast. The West Coast would air it three hours later with a "previously recorded" identification at the bottom of the screen. The problem was I wouldn't see the "act" until dress rehearsal. One day the magic act involved a burning rope dangerously up toward the precariously placed "assistant". Magic, of course. I didn't think much was wrong with it, but needed to call my boss to let him know what was included.
I must explain about Alan Trankley. An ex FBI agent who sat at his desk with a picture of J. Edgar Hoover literally looking over his shoulder. Seriously. When our East Coast boss, Sam, had first met with him after taking the position, Alan informed him "I would kill for you.", to which Sam replied, "I don't think that will be necessary". To say he took this all we did very seriously would be an understatement.
When I explained the act to Alan his first question was, "Is the rope really burning?"
Well, no, it was a TRICK!!! An illusion...magic!
"Well, if it's not, they have to put up a disclaimer", he responded.
Something along the lines of "rope actually not burning...kids, don't try this at home" running along the bottom of the screen as the performance was happening above.
I knew Bill Lee would be less than thrilled.
His face turned purple as he sputtered, "Do you see how ridiculous this is? It's f***ing magic. An optical illusion. Are you people f***ing insane?".
Alan's other option was to actually set the rope on fire. Even I felt there were limits to the lunacy of my job and chose not to pass on that alternative to the man with steam coming out of his ears.
I went back to the office following the dress rehearsal and wrote up my show report to send to send to New York in the interoffice mail. Remember, this was the world of typewriters, no computers or e-mails.
I sat at my desk contemplating exactly how much trouble I'd get into when my phone rang.
It was Bruce from "Name That Tune". Nine months after that amazing first date he'd gotten around to asking me out for a second.
I said yes and wondered if I made two mistakes that day!
Dick Clark Live included interesting, different type of acts. I was assigned to monitor them for authenticity. Why you might ask? Well, to make sure these acts weren't misleading to the viewers. As a bit of back story, NBC had been the network involved in the "Game Show Scandals" of the '50's. The producers of the most well known game shows gave some of the contestants the answers to make for "better television". Problem was this was unfair to the contestants who didn't get the answer and to the viewers who thought, unlike scripted television, everything they were watching was real and honest. So, to be certain this never happened again NBC put in a department called "Compliance and Practices". Standards and Practices dealt with scripted television; C&P with "real" television.
Since Dick Clark Live had magic acts and the like I was a C&P person assigned along with a Standards person to ensure both good taste and honesty came into your home weekly. Dick Clark called us "Frick and Frack". The producer of the show, Bill Lee, had quite a temper. Many producers resented "the Censors"; we thwarted their creativity. Suffice it to say, we got yelled at a lot when things weren't going well. In live television that was quite often.
There would be a dress rehearsal at 11:00AM - 2:00PM on the East Coast. The show would the go "live" at 5:00PM - to the East Coast. The West Coast would air it three hours later with a "previously recorded" identification at the bottom of the screen. The problem was I wouldn't see the "act" until dress rehearsal. One day the magic act involved a burning rope dangerously up toward the precariously placed "assistant". Magic, of course. I didn't think much was wrong with it, but needed to call my boss to let him know what was included.
I must explain about Alan Trankley. An ex FBI agent who sat at his desk with a picture of J. Edgar Hoover literally looking over his shoulder. Seriously. When our East Coast boss, Sam, had first met with him after taking the position, Alan informed him "I would kill for you.", to which Sam replied, "I don't think that will be necessary". To say he took this all we did very seriously would be an understatement.
When I explained the act to Alan his first question was, "Is the rope really burning?"
Well, no, it was a TRICK!!! An illusion...magic!
"Well, if it's not, they have to put up a disclaimer", he responded.
Something along the lines of "rope actually not burning...kids, don't try this at home" running along the bottom of the screen as the performance was happening above.
I knew Bill Lee would be less than thrilled.
His face turned purple as he sputtered, "Do you see how ridiculous this is? It's f***ing magic. An optical illusion. Are you people f***ing insane?".
Alan's other option was to actually set the rope on fire. Even I felt there were limits to the lunacy of my job and chose not to pass on that alternative to the man with steam coming out of his ears.
I went back to the office following the dress rehearsal and wrote up my show report to send to send to New York in the interoffice mail. Remember, this was the world of typewriters, no computers or e-mails.
I sat at my desk contemplating exactly how much trouble I'd get into when my phone rang.
It was Bruce from "Name That Tune". Nine months after that amazing first date he'd gotten around to asking me out for a second.
I said yes and wondered if I made two mistakes that day!
Happy New Year?
The holidays were different that year. We were a small family. Most holiday dinners growing up were spent with our next door neighbors. It was easier that way. My father didn't talk to his brothers most of the time. My Mom had no brothers or sisters and had lost both her parents by the time she was 35. But she did have an Aunt...Aunt Alice. More about her later...but for now, she, my father and brother came to California for Christmas.
Before Disneyland became a destination point for traveling family holiday celebrations, the very best time to visit was on Christmas Eve. The park was decorated and, even better... deserted. That Christmas Eve my brother, great Aunt Alice and I spent breezing onto every "E" ticket ride we could find before heading back to my apartment in Toluca Lake to pick up Big Joe for dinner at the Brown Derby.
The building housing the Brown Derby restaurant really did look like a big brown derby hat. A longtime famous hang-out, for both stars and "wanna be's", you could almost hear what the walls had to say. In 1977 there were more than the occasional celebrity sitings. As we ordered cocktails it became quite apparent this was not Big Joe's. He had spent the afternoon throwing a pity party in his hotel room that included a few Dewar's and soda, which was somewhat ironic because he and my Mom had been very unhappy during the last years of their marriage.
Without going into the dynamics of our family, suffice it to say Emmy was definitely the hub of our wheel. Without her, the three "spokes" were on a very bumpy path. Big Joe and I were best together when we weren't. Phone conversations had become ominously annoying over the past months without Emmy to diffuse the many unresolved issues between us. I had decided to just "go with the flow" during this trip and let him annoy without restraint. That night he was in rare form. Did I mention he was a self employed, Italian-German attorney? If not, perhaps that may shed some light on his personality. Always right...about everything. That night at the Brown Derby he decided the New York steak he'd ordered was not as advertised. Insisting it was actually a sirloin he demanded to go into the kitchen, bellowing "I'm a butcher...I know my meat", as my brother, Aunt Alice and I chewed in embarrassed silence.
When the Manager came over with our check while we were still eating our Cobb salads, it was apparently time to pull the plug on this fiasco of an evening.
When we got into the car with me as the designated driver, my father burst into tears.
Thinking perhaps I had misread the depth of his feelings for Emmy, I patted his hand and said "I know, we miss her, too".
He sobbed, "I don't have any friends. She's the one everybody liked".
I couldn't argue with that.
Merry Christmas!
Before Disneyland became a destination point for traveling family holiday celebrations, the very best time to visit was on Christmas Eve. The park was decorated and, even better... deserted. That Christmas Eve my brother, great Aunt Alice and I spent breezing onto every "E" ticket ride we could find before heading back to my apartment in Toluca Lake to pick up Big Joe for dinner at the Brown Derby.
The building housing the Brown Derby restaurant really did look like a big brown derby hat. A longtime famous hang-out, for both stars and "wanna be's", you could almost hear what the walls had to say. In 1977 there were more than the occasional celebrity sitings. As we ordered cocktails it became quite apparent this was not Big Joe's. He had spent the afternoon throwing a pity party in his hotel room that included a few Dewar's and soda, which was somewhat ironic because he and my Mom had been very unhappy during the last years of their marriage.
Without going into the dynamics of our family, suffice it to say Emmy was definitely the hub of our wheel. Without her, the three "spokes" were on a very bumpy path. Big Joe and I were best together when we weren't. Phone conversations had become ominously annoying over the past months without Emmy to diffuse the many unresolved issues between us. I had decided to just "go with the flow" during this trip and let him annoy without restraint. That night he was in rare form. Did I mention he was a self employed, Italian-German attorney? If not, perhaps that may shed some light on his personality. Always right...about everything. That night at the Brown Derby he decided the New York steak he'd ordered was not as advertised. Insisting it was actually a sirloin he demanded to go into the kitchen, bellowing "I'm a butcher...I know my meat", as my brother, Aunt Alice and I chewed in embarrassed silence.
When the Manager came over with our check while we were still eating our Cobb salads, it was apparently time to pull the plug on this fiasco of an evening.
When we got into the car with me as the designated driver, my father burst into tears.
Thinking perhaps I had misread the depth of his feelings for Emmy, I patted his hand and said "I know, we miss her, too".
He sobbed, "I don't have any friends. She's the one everybody liked".
I couldn't argue with that.
Merry Christmas!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Chris...and Other Errors
I know some people rebound quickly after horrendous life events. Others stay stuck in their gully of grief for years. I was somewhere in the middle - sad beyond belief but moving through every day as if I were still where I actually was. Chris and his engagement ring were the talk of many of my friends. Nobody liked him or thought I should date him, let alone marry him. Nobody thought I'd actually go through with something as drastic as a wedding, but considering the state of my emotions nothing was really out of the question.
Chris and I didn't get along very well. We fought a lot about most things inconsequential since we didn't know each other well enough to disagree about anything important. He was very controlling and I didn't like to be controlled. Many years - and many dollars - later I would more fully understand my need to be "the boss of me". A word to the wise; major life decisions while submersed in grief should be avoided. But then, you probably already know that. I didn't.
Chris was pushing to set a date for the wedding when we couldn't even agree on where to go for dinner. Even I knew this was not a good thing. Chris thought the harder he pushed the more I would relent. Ah, not so fast. I reacted exactly the opposite. But this seemed to be a reprieve from my sadness. When I was angry at Chris I didn't feel quite so lost over losing my Mom. Sorry to say, I didn't notice the correlation between those two emotions at the time.
My work on the game shows went on. I found the studio provided a respite from my sadness. I also found that back at work life seemed "normal" because no one spoke of what had happened. At our stage of life in 2011, we've all experienced horrible things but in 1977, not so much. My Mom had died quickly and, sadly, far too young. People didn't know what to say so after the initial "so sorry" upon my return, nothing was said. Life goes on...
And, mostly, it did. I just wasn't aware I was only half there. Sadly, the half that was there set about tormenting Chris for...well, just being Chris. To be fair, the torment was mutual. He wasn't exactly the "faithful" type. The "Janet" he pursued was not the "Janet" he wound up with, so Chris moved on a couple of nights in a row about a month later. So, upon I discovering his indiscretion I went over to his apartment and put a beautiful silver cuff bracelet he'd given me under the left rear tire of his fine little Mercedes.
I decided not to date for a while.
Chris and I didn't get along very well. We fought a lot about most things inconsequential since we didn't know each other well enough to disagree about anything important. He was very controlling and I didn't like to be controlled. Many years - and many dollars - later I would more fully understand my need to be "the boss of me". A word to the wise; major life decisions while submersed in grief should be avoided. But then, you probably already know that. I didn't.
Chris was pushing to set a date for the wedding when we couldn't even agree on where to go for dinner. Even I knew this was not a good thing. Chris thought the harder he pushed the more I would relent. Ah, not so fast. I reacted exactly the opposite. But this seemed to be a reprieve from my sadness. When I was angry at Chris I didn't feel quite so lost over losing my Mom. Sorry to say, I didn't notice the correlation between those two emotions at the time.
My work on the game shows went on. I found the studio provided a respite from my sadness. I also found that back at work life seemed "normal" because no one spoke of what had happened. At our stage of life in 2011, we've all experienced horrible things but in 1977, not so much. My Mom had died quickly and, sadly, far too young. People didn't know what to say so after the initial "so sorry" upon my return, nothing was said. Life goes on...
And, mostly, it did. I just wasn't aware I was only half there. Sadly, the half that was there set about tormenting Chris for...well, just being Chris. To be fair, the torment was mutual. He wasn't exactly the "faithful" type. The "Janet" he pursued was not the "Janet" he wound up with, so Chris moved on a couple of nights in a row about a month later. So, upon I discovering his indiscretion I went over to his apartment and put a beautiful silver cuff bracelet he'd given me under the left rear tire of his fine little Mercedes.
I decided not to date for a while.
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