By Jeffrey the Barak
Words cannot adequately describe Arne Jacobsen’s iconic mid-century designs, but it’s always nice to view a few of them in one place. So this is not an article, it’s just a vision massage.
Swan
Egg
Series 3300
Tavolo
Swan
Series 7
3103
Oxford
Eggs
Arne
By Jeffrey the Barak
At times, we wander the galleries and see pieces of art that look as if they could hurt someone, or kill someone, but in a way this has actually happened.
I refer to a place commonly known as Easter Island. This is its modern name, given to the place by Christian explorers from Holland in 1722 when they happened to come across this land on their Easter Sunday.
For most of history, This place had no name, and no inhabitants, but at sometime between 400 and 600 C.E. a human civilisation, the Polynesians, found it, and it became known as Rapa Nui.
We know from the surviving Polynesian people here and across Oceana that for at least two thousand years, their relatively advanced society was capable of trans-oceanic explorations by canoe that no modern sailor in their right mind would dare attempt. By contrast, the people of the nations that would later become the worlds explorers, the Britons, the French, The Spanish, The Portuguese, The Dutch were by comparison, quite behind in terms of long-distance seafaring.
Even the Mediterranean traders of the day would have been amazed at the voyages back and forth that the ancient Polynesians embarked upon.
So art came to Rapa Nui with its first people. It is generally accepted that they came from either the Marquesas Islands or Mangareva, which like everywhere else, are very far indeed from Rapa Nui.
The oral history tells us they brought plants, food animals and tools and their mission was colonization. The climate on Rapa Nui was certainly not the tropical paradise they were used to so they had a lot of adaptation to do in order to survive and thrive.
Rapa Nui was covered in trees, palms and other types, and drinking water was naturally gathered in volcanic craters, despite the islands absence of rivers or streams. The island also had obsidian, great for making cutting tools and weapons, and it had lot of special rock which we call lapilli tuff.
Some say the islanders employed slash and burn techniques to clear land for farming, and others say, they used up all the wood in order to make and transport the huge stone statues that Rapa Nui is now famous for.
With the forest cover gone, the rain and weather eroded the topsoil and famine ensued. But lets take a step back and focus on the art.
The art of Rapa Nui is divided between two periods. The Moai period and the Birdman period. On other islands in Polynesia, there were statues, (Moai), atop shrines, (Ahu). which were representations of chiefs (living and dead) and the gods in which they believed.
Dead chiefs were sacred, and after their life passed, their representative Moa remained. Rapa Nui has around 900 such moai, either standing, toppled or partially completed, still in the quarry or partway to their final site. There are about 360 ahu. The moai did not look out to sea, as commonly assumed, but they faced away from the sea, towards the villages. Some completed and erected statues had white coral eyes and wore stone hats or top knots called pukao, carved from a rock that was more red (scoria).
There is much debate as to exactly how the heavy statues were moved, assembled, erected etc. They are so heavy, that engineering on a grand scale was definitely needed, but the methods used have passed from memory.
It seems clear that at some point, the statues were worshiped as gods, and were a means of control for the ruling society, called the “Long Ears”. Everyone else, lived as subjects of the ruling Long Ears. However they were not slaves, but simply lowly subjects of the rulers, who would eventually rebel aginst the Long Ears and topple the very statues that generations suffered to construct.
It is said that so much wood was expended on the statue making that the islanders could no longer build canoes, so they became unable to travel to and from other parts of Polynesia. However, it is possible that the forests were burned to clear land, without any understanding of the long term environmental consequences. Without canoes, there was little opportunity to fish offshore, and without the lush vegetation, farming was all that was left.
So in isolation, with the natural resources of the island being eroded, burned and used for making statues, the people sealed their fate. Numbering as high as seven thousand in its heyday, the society on Rapa Nui became unsustainable with the resources at hand, and they were unable to leave or go for help.
Eventually, out of this declining situation, a powerful warrior class emerged, called Matatoa. And a change of power and leadership ensued. This also heralded the second art movement. All of the statues were toppled, some face up, some face down, and a new, even sillier religion began to dominate.
This was the birdman cult, (Tangatamenu). Once a year on a small island off the coast of Rapa Nui, migrating birds laid eggs. It was a bountiful annual harvest. The young warriors would hold a swimming race across the rough, shark-infested straits between the main island and bird island. The first man back holding an intact egg became absolute ruler for exactly one year, until this was repeated.
In the time after the upright moai, the art consisted of carvings and drawings on rock, depicting a bird-man character. Again the sheer quantity of this art in the virtual absence of all other, shows us that life at the time was all about the birdman. And a new monotheism emerged, coincidentally featuring a single, creator god, not the Jewish-Christian-Moslem one, but one with the name Makemake.
If the Western sailing ships had never found Easter Island, the natives may or may not have survived to this day, but considering what the sailors did to them, it is amazing that any have survived. The so-called advanced civilizations from Europe murdered, enslaved, kidnapped and infected the people with diseases such as smallpox and syphilis, and those few who survived these horrors were later subjected to forced Christianization.
As a result of the missionary subjugation, at this point there was no more art for a long time. The island was culturally dead until relatively recently when inhabitants of Polynesian decent began to nurture their cultural heritage, which amazingly still has much in common with other far way parts of Polynesia. And so through dance, costume, cuisine and the tatoo, the art of the island survives, but this time it wont kill them, it may save them, from us.
By Jeffrey the Barak
Louis the Scooterer 1935-2009
Since 2004, Louis the Scooterer, Louis Scop, has contributed to the-vu, and his readers number in the thousands. Sadly, I have just learned from his daughter that Lou passed away on July 26th 2009, and was buried in the Netanya cemetery, Israel, on 31st July.
Lou’s last input was a comment on June 15th, and his last email to me was on June 26th, in which he mentioned he had not been feeling good for several weeks, but would soon be writing another chapter. Some followers of Lou will no doubt learn of his passing with these words. I will be reading his writings again in order to celebrate his life, but of course he did more than he wrote about, and for a lot longer.
By Jeffrey the Barak
Nomadic tribes move independently of each other and occasionally come together to interact through trade, war, sport, cultural exchange, intermarriage, murder etc.
In the dense jungles of South America and Africa and Asia, the boundaries formed by geographical features such as ridges and valleys are all it takes to keep two nomadic cultures apart in language and traditions, until they either form non-nomadic civilizations or continue to roam independently of their neighbors. Then there is fate. One tribe may come into contact with, and survive contact with, outsiders and end up with new lifestyles and technology such as outboard motors and clothing, whereas their immediate neighbors may escape detection for decades afterwards.
Tribes evolve into societies and eventually countries. We have seen it in today’s Israel, Lebanon, Jordan, Syria and surrounding areas and due to the fact that so many people have been exposed to the Old Testament of the Bible, and therefore have some awareness of nations and ethnic groups of the last two or three thousand years, it is easy to see how more modern politics and assumed differences can evolve into borders drawn on the map.
If just one or two things had happened differently in history, the map of the Middle-East might be totally different, because in all that famous history, recorded in the world’s best selling loosely-historical book, there were only a few hundred or a couple of thousand people involved in most of those old conflicts.
If you have a chance to find a map of the region that is now Afghanistan and Pakistan, a map made in the early or mid 19th century, you will see numerous regions defined by the make-up of the nomadic and semi-nomadic tribes and their leaders of those days.
Today in the United Nations, you will never see little signs naming Tribes of the Turkmens, Buhara, Pamir, Darwaz, Roshan, Shignan, Badakhshan, Kunduz, Khulm. Chitral, Maimana, Herat, Kafiristan, Dir, Kohistan, Svat, Buner, Shinaki, Punjab and more.
But these were names of regions, if not countries, on the maps of the day. Most are now either part of Pakistan or Afghanistan. The people of these regions are not necessarily Afghanis or Pakistanis, but the modern map tells them that’s what they are.
There are seven main ethnic groups in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and many more obscure groups, some extremely small and hardly known to this day.
And a failure to understand who these people are, who they were, where they came from and where they live now, means that occupying armies really do not have any clear idea who they are defending or who they are trying to kill.
Add the complication of different religions, most of which are opposing or slightly differing views from within the Islamic umbrella, and the complications deepen.
Shift West a few miles and look at Iraq. Like Pakistan, it is a modern country created not very long ago by outsiders. (The British, if you want to name names). Until the start of the current war, it held it’s violence and hate simmering below the surface, united by the common fear of their evil national dictator. But how many of those who voted to approve the invasion of Iraq had even a glimmer of understanding about the basic differences between the various peoples in the region? How many even knew anything about Sunni’s Shi’ites and Kurds, as they stood on the floor of the House and painted a picture of Iraqis cheering for parading American liberators marching triumphantly into Baghdad a few weeks after the Air Force blew it to bits for the good of the people.
Perhaps it is too late to swap the Iraq on the map for numerous ethnic regions, and too late to swap the Pakistan and Afghanistan of today into the little countries and regions that existed before. But on the other hand, perhaps these people can never be unified into countries. The very model of a country may not be applicable to people such as these. They remain tribal and separate, in culture and language.
Israel, Lebanon, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, all examples of relatively new countries, each with their own set of problems. Without ever understanding much about the people within, outside military forces jump in to help, and end up killing or displacing thousands and thousands of people either directly or indirectly
Surely a little research would be advisable?
By Ajax Bardrick
BARNES` LOST HOLLYWOOD CONNECTION UNCOVERED
A handful of sparkling stardust from the glamour of old Hollywood fell on an obscure corner of South West London this week with the solution of an enduring mystery of the film actor Errol Flynn`s early life in the district.
Flynn was the biggest star in Hollywood in the late 1930s and early 1940s, achieving fame through films such as The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Charge of the Light Brigade and The Sea Hawk, which made him the heroic swashbuckling buccaneer of Hollywood`s golden age. However, 10 years before his arrival in Hollywood he had been Leslie Flynn, a wayward 14 year old from the other side of the world in Australia who had shipped over to London with his father dragging him along to the capital on some business that he had to conduct there, wondering what he was to do with the boy who found himself being transported from the exotic surroundings of his childhood years on the shore of Tasmania, with the roar of the sea where the Indian and Pacific Oceans meet coming off of the South Pole, to board in a small shambolic boys` private school in the Putney district, which he described as drab, grey and grim looking. It has been known for a number of years since the publication of his autobiography My Wicked Wicked Ways, shortly before his early death from exhaustion in 1959, that the silver screen star had spent a part of his youth in a school in the locality which he called South-West London College, but its actual location was obscured by his siting it off Putney Common`, with the vague location as somewhere between Putney & Hammersmith.
The puzzle as to its location has defied writers and historians studying the screen actor`s origins before he tore a blaze across the Hollywood firmament, leading some to speculate as to whether it existed at all as Flynn described it, but it has now been solved by a dusty half-forgotten old trade directory from the mid 1920s stored at the Wandsworth Borough Archive on Lavender Hill during research into the star`s early years. In the frail pages of an obscure small business circular called the Wandsworth Directory 1925, listed in between Sanitary Engineers and Servants` Registry Offices under Scholastic was found an entry for South West London College (Mr. E.H. Burbidge, Principal), No. 99-101 Castelnau, confirming the veracity of Flynn`s account and locating the long gone school amidst a line of regency villas on the road leading up on to Hammersmith Bridge.
Although expressing no other feelings in retrospect than the misery of his time at the school which he said were two of the most dismal years of his life, he devoted several pages of his autobiography to provide a carefully drawn portrait of it, describing how its cheerlessness was indicated by window-ledges lined with empty flowerpots and matched by the meagre fare at meal times, and how the boys were crammed into the dormitories for want of space. He also left vivid portraits of the staff such as the Headmaster, Mr. Burbidge: old, fat and terrifying and glaring at you like a toad; and another teacher who had: sloppy clothes and a kipper-footed gait and spent most of his time stalking the school`s better looking boys (who were in turn anxious to stay one step ahead of him) with an ominous intent and a lecherous smile, who would leave the school`s employment under a cloud after having shown an unhealthy interest in the boys in the school`s cricket team for reasons other than cricket. Flynn further described parading from Barnes across the bleak wasteland of Barnes Common into Putney and through its streets as the boys went off to church each Sunday in a 2 by 2 column, creating a colourful sight in their uniforms of striped trousers and blazer, with straw boaters for the Summer months being replaced with top hats in the Winter; and also the subsequent loneliness that he experienced in a strange place far from home when finding himself discarded by his parents and left in the school alone with all of the other boys having departed for the holidays, and he found himself with nothing to do but wander around its empty class-rooms; and how this abandonment and the resentment that it caused would mark his character in his future passage through the world.
He left the school after 2 years in 1925, and headed back to Australia and a subsequent meteoric future that awaited him of fame and wealth at the summit of Hollywood before he would burn out in a self-destructive pursuance of sensual excess; but the building, which today makes two private houses, that encompassed South West London College remains with its own memory of its role in the life of one of cinema`s icons.
Ajax Bardrick,
London, 14.Oct.2008
Artie Shaw passed away on December 30th 2004, aged 94. Sig Shonholtz, his friend in later life, spoke at the funeral and his well-received words on that day were almost exactly as written below.
By Sig Shonholtz
My friendship with Artie Shaw began over a business transaction about 8 years ago; he had answered an ad I ran to buy old watches, it started out a little awkward though. I can still remember it, Larry Rose his secretary called me up one day and told me that Mr. Shaw wanted to talk to me, Artie then got on the phone and barked at me about a watch he wanted to sell and when could I come over and look at it and make him an offer. I told him I was too busy and that he would have to come and meet me. Well, this went on for nearly a year, it got so I knew Larry’s voice when I answered the phone. Artie Shaw wants to talk to you he would say in his polite tone. The stand off finally ended. I was too curious. I just had to meet this man.
When I got to his house I realized I was in for an experience. The house was, to be polite, cluttered with the history of the 20th century. To my surprise the gruff old man on the phone was actually rather charming and in a few minutes we had made a deal. But we spent the entire afternoon together discussing the science of metallurgy and the force of springs. It was the kind of a conversation you could only have with someone that truly enjoyed thinking and concepts. That was the moment I realized that I was in the presence of someone unique and I should take advantage of his knowledge. I use the word advantage with the utmost respect because we all have responsibilities in life and one of our main responsibilities is to raise up everybody around us to their highest potential, Artie believed this strongly. If you were paying attention to what Artie quietly had to say you soon realized that he was deeply interested and concerned about the human condition and in making a difference.
We spoke on the phone several times after that first meeting. The next time we met it was on my turf Artie decided that he would come and visit me; I can still remember the moment when he arrived in my antique center. Down the hall I heard a loud gravelly bellowing voice yelling out my name. Where is SIG? he said. I answered, Artie, I am over here. He yelled back Here?.where is here, I thought I was here? Here, is the most subjective word in the English language, the question is, where are you? Well, after all the yelling we finally located each other and laughed about it.
In that moment I realized that this was a man that required precision in language. In fact as time went on I learned that language was his lord. Dont mince words with Artie Shaw because he has no time to waste. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Dont try to catch Artie in a trap of phrases either. Phrases like curmudgeon; he was not a curmudgeon..if you engaged him in a meaningful conversation. UNFORTUNATLY, people wasted his time asking about his ex wives and whether he was better then Benny. Artie considered that he had answered those silly questions enough times, ask a foolish question of a brilliant person and they will act like a curmudgeon. It is a variation on Murphys Law.
Time went by and we became friends. We had many dinners together, dinner with him was an adventure, he could easily out eat me. Frequently we had three deserts because we could not decide on just two. No subject was too mundane for us, or to lofty. We spoke about the great taste of Vernors Ginger ale, and why would anybody drink Canada dry after tasting the Vernors. We decided that it must be the quality and amount of extract they used. Once we had a conversation about a packet of synthetic sugar, how do they calculate the subjective value of taste we wondered? We spoke about bats and their radar and a butterfly’s ability to navigate. We spoke about the power of adrenaline and the impact it could have in shaping and controlling an individual. We wondered, What were the very first thoughts of the very first person, after “I want food and sex”? Artie said “well, here I am”. Once, he asked a waiter for some more butter. The waiter said “I’ll be right back” Artie took off his watch and said lets see what he means by “right back”. He redefined the concept of “right back”; it means you stop everything you are doing and even ignore a fire in the kitchen if necessary to meet your commitment. How long is “right back”? Well depending on the circumstances up to 5 breaths of air, otherwise you need to use another phase, like “give me two minutes” or “I’ll be back in a few moments”.
Artie had great stories; during the war he learned to play the Japanese national anthem just in case he was taken as a prisoner. He shared a funny story with me once about a musician in one of his bands. Artie told him that he had to stop smoking “that stuff” before each set because he was throwing off the band. The musician argued and told him, “I am on fire, I never sounded so good.” So, Artie agreed that the next day he would do the smoking and the musician would do the listening. After the set Artie looked at him and said, hey, you’re right, I sound great. The musician looked at Artie and said, “Man, you’re nuts you stink”. The lesson: we do not define ourselves, perhaps we are perceived.
Artie and his books are legendary. He had dictionaries in dozens of languages; his tables were stacked with books on ideas and thinking and in addition, books on “cheating death”. His library had 10,000 books in it, on every subject on earth, science, art, architecture, philosophy, history, warfare, astronomy, politics, mathematics, geography, languages, psychology, sociology, medicine, shooting guns and fly fishing. Artie could speak arcane languages; not to impress you but because he knew there were secrets hidden in them.
Artie Shaw was not interested in banal chatter about big bands. He was interested in the Big Bang, in fact his mind was a big bang, but why, what was he searching for? He was looking for the holy grail of ideas, the mother of all answers, the least amount of words that could transform mankind and our planet to be a better place. He was looking for the simplest and noblest of thoughts that everyone could work with; he placed a high value on thinking and beauty. Long ago Artie Shaw decided that there were only three questions which he wanted to have answered; so he went about the task of finding the answers. The three questions were: are we alone in the universe, is there life after death and were we created by a force or did we evolve?
The only way he knew how to answer those three questions was to read hundreds of books (Can these questions actually be answered by reading and organizing millions of words?). First, in order to absorb the information of 10,000 books and process it you need to live a long time, 94 is just about right. You also need to have a very pliant flexible mind to be able to synthesize the information so it is usable. He was very capable of retrieving information from his mind, and would consider everything that could be considered. It would not be uncommon for him to share an obscure idea of Teilhard de Jardin’s or Plutarch within two sentences. Organizing 10,000 books inside of one mind is not an easy task. He tried his best, he made a gallant effort; in fact he has an unpublished manuscript of 1500 pages, his own “big bang” of mankind. Not bad actually, he took the knowledge of 10,000 books, 10,000 years and condensed it into 1500 pages. When I get the chance I am going to take the short cut through the history of humanity and read his abridged edition if and when it comes out.
In conversation Artie expanded and expounded on everything, including the Ten Commandments. He had three extra commandments. They sound like band leaders ideas but they were actually ideas for living a great life. Number 11 was “Show Up”, meaning, you must participate in life. Number 12 was “Get along”, if we don’t all get along then mankind has no future. And number 13 was “Have fun!”. well of course. Have fun! That about sums it up, the answer of all answers, he brought living and life down to just two simple words, whatever it may mean to each of us.
Have Fun Artie, I hope you’re still having fun.
Sig Shonholtz is a master watchmaker and philosopher and is from Los Angeles.
By Kim Knode
“My mom always called me a closet poet!” says popular, prominent award-winning author, April Wayland. She chuckles. Clearly, the lady preoccupied with climbing the corporate ladder yesterday is out of the closet today. Wayland piles a potpourri of her poetry and picture books (published by prestigious houses such as Knopf and Scholastic) on her kitchen table.
She plops comfortably on to squeaky snow-white plastic cushions arranged against a wall painted Tweety Bird yellow. With a sigh and then a smile, the renowned celebrity of the children’s literature world recalls her former career. As a Fortune 500 (company) marketing manager Wayland remembers attending meetings about million dollar budgets. (Although promotions in pay and position came quickly, Wayland was best known for the marching duck doodles attached to the meeting memorandums.)
She confesses, “Going into the corporate world was kind of like rebellion in my family. My dad was a farmer. My mother (a concert pianist) was horrified!”
Wayland laughs. “For a while it was exciting to wear a suit and carry a briefcase. It was like dressing up in a costume! But I was a square peg in a round hole,” she says. But she was determined to beat the odd kid on the block feeling. In 1984, Wayland sought out scintillating role models in the corporate system. One stellar senior suggested, “Keep work in perspective. And keep a colorful life outside.”
To enliven her after work life, Wayland turned to a UCLA Extension catalogue. On a whim, she enrolled in a children’s writing course. The class became the highlight and happiness of her week. “I couldn’t wait for Monday nights,” she exclaims. “I found myself.”
Albeit her appetite for big business was waning, Wayland persevered. She stoically continued to wade and march through mires of documents on her desk. She recalls, “My husband and I were calling each other on speaker phones from our offices on Sundays!”
Without a trace of pride, Wayland says, “I got the work done. I do well on deadlines.” She adds, “I was also eating three bowls of cereal for breakfast so I didn’t have to go out the door.”
In 1985, Wayland awakened to an epiphany. “I was sacrificing my body and spirit. I was thirsty for something they (the corporate world) couldn’t address.” Wayland asserts that she was willing to risk living “without fancy, frilly benefits.” Shaking off “the golden handcuffs” took top priority on her to-do list.
Wayland’s sunny demeanor slides away for a few seconds. “Tax season is the worst time to do it. But I told my husband (an accountant) that I was willing to give up our Brentwood home and live in a tent on beach if that’s what it took to be happy.”
His reaction? “He was in shock. But he didn’t say no,” says Wayland looking down to right an askew place mat. Four months after Wayland’s departure from the steel jungle of downtown LA, To Rabbittown, her first picture book, was accepted for publication. “And I’ve had a book published every three years – since 1988,” states Wayland.
Her word savvy certainly has won over the hearts of publishers and readers of children’s literature. Publishers Weekly says, “Wayland succeeds in making reading and writing poetry more accessible to teens.” Newbery award-winning writer Sid Fleischman simply declares her works, “Dazzling!”The beloved poetess/author says, “When I carve out writing work time today, it’s not a sacrifice. It’s a pleasure!” The tan author cups her cheeks in her palms. A shadow of concern crosses her face. “But I don’t want to mislead people,” she says. “I put an awful lot on my husband Gary. It’s his expertise in his field that carried us.”
Wayland asserts, “I can’t make a living on my own.” But she does contribute. “The way a picture book author makes money these days is to speak and teach. So, two weeks in the spring when it’s tax season, I go to Europe!” She chortles. “I go abroad to teach at military schools and American schools. I take my son (born in 1989.) It’s so much fun!”
In the autumn, Wayland offers Writing the Children’s Picture Book through UCLA Extension. Like the grape blossom which matures into a bold Bordeaux, Wayland is now a Wayshower for aspiring writers. A fitting role, perhaps, for a former UCLA Extension pupil whose poetry homework turned into The Night Horse. (“The book went out of print faster than you could sneeze!” says Wayland.)
“At first, I was sooo afraid to teach,” she whispers. Thankfully, a fellow author/professor pal prodded the fledgling instructor into remembering that each individual stamps his or her own work – writing and teaching – with his or her own style. Wayland scribbled a mantra for herself. “I am a snowflake. People are coming to me for my snowflakeness.” Apparently, Wayland’s “snowflakeness” is appreciated. One UCLA student, after a class, announced, “I feel invigorated. I not only learned about writing. I learned about life!”
Gems, garnets garnered by Wayland pupils include the art of the one-minute journal. The purpose? The writer discovered that the time restriction of sixty seconds to describe a day produces a “distillation and selectivity” of words. Poetry results from the exercise. Penning poetry is Wayland’s forte. Girl Coming in for a Landing is her latest work and is a collection of verses for adolescents. Accolades and accelerating sales are trailing the “novel in poems for teens.” The American Library Association (ALA) nominated Girl Coming in for a Landing as one of the Best Books for Young Adults. The poetry novel also landed on ALA’s 2003 Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers List. In addition, Wayland is the winner of the Myra Cohen Livingston Award for Poetry. The poetess is also the titleholder of the Lee Bennet Hopkins Honor Award for Children’s Poetry.
Looks like the closet poet (in a sleeveless t-shirt covered with clouds) has piloted herself into a heavenly life. “You bet!” says Wayland. “I have my health and love. So everything else is whipped cream!”
Due out for promotion next is Wayland’s Braces, Bras, Belly Rings – Body Poems. What future projects are you planning? If you need more information about coming out of the closet with your poetry, visit www.aprilwayland.com.
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.
By Kim Knode
Los Angeles, November 2002
Childhood Bel Air neighbor, Will Rogers advised the young lad to, “Stay out of jail.” Bell did stay out of the slammer. In fact, Bush Sr. extolled Bell on January 18, 1998 for “his success in (the oil) business before going to Congress.” The former President also commended Bell for the sixteen years he served in Congress where he was renowned for “always voting his conscience but always serving the people of his district, never forgetting who sent him to Washington.” Number Forty-One’s praise concludes by proclaiming that, “As a friend, I am happy to salute him and congratulate him on his flawless service in the US Congress. He showed his state and nation a lot of class.”
Appropriate to an 88-year-old statesman, today he is regally enthroned on a leather chair with sun rays emanating above his silver tresses at the Bel Air Bay Club. Alongside him sits Marian McCargo Bell. (She surrendered her halcyon moments of seeing her name on the marquee with gents such as Rock Hudson, Gene Hackman and the Duke for the permanent role of the devoted congressman’s wife.)
Bell takes a gulp of black coffee from the club’s bone china and grins. “You might say I was raised to be a cowboy.”
I inquire, “Did cowboy ethics carry you to Congress?”
Bell nods yes.
“And what exactly is the code of conduct on the range?” I ask.
He answers, “To be independent and to move in a certain direction even when it might hurt you.”
“The Bel Air Kid” was bucking broncos for real in his youth. Bell Sr. ran a California corn and citrus farm replete with cows and horses before bumping into oil. And after acquiring the Italian villa, Capo di Monte in Bel Air, Bell Sr. purchased the Bar Bell Ranch in Meeker, Colorado.
The retired congressman confesses that he preferred lassoing stallions and slumbering under a canopy of stars to “showing off” in stretch limos and shopping on Rodeo Drive. He says, “My father fostered in me a love for the outdoors.”
Undoubtedly Bell’s passionate campaign against the military to regain San Onofre for public use was spurred by his appreciation of beauty unblemished by human hands. (The stretch of sand in Southern California is a spectacular site for sunning and sea sports.) Marines were allegedly utilizing the area for military exercises. Bell believed the beach belonged as a public pleasure place. A mélange of media spins of cowboy congressman versus the militia ensued.
The end result of the parrying in the press? Bell won the beach for his constituents. And “Nixon took credit for San Onofre,” says the former congressman. “Nixon told the story, which was widely reported, that he had remarked to his wife, Pat when they visited San Onofre one day while it was still in the hands of the Marines that, ‘it would be nice if the public could enjoy this beautiful spot like we do.’” The elder statesman stoically states, “This is typical of Dick Nixon…Of course, no one disputed him.”
Tangling with tricky Dick allegedly involved intricate Tango steps. (Apparently, a temperamental Nixon kick could leave a political career severely bruised.) However, Bell was happy to hook arms with Nixon and do the Virginia Reel down the corridors of Congress when it came to the Vietnam War. The congressman from California declares, “Nixon had the right idea. You had to bomb the hell out of the Viet Cong to make them squeal…If you can’t make a deal. You have to get tough.” (Does Bell agree with Bush Jr.’s desire to attack Iraq? A resounding “yes” is the reply.)
Although in agreement with the party line on war, Bell was often labeled the Republican rebel. On August 28, 1963, Bell marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (As a member of his entourage, the elder statesman heard the thundering, “I have a dream” speech from the second row on that sultry summer day.)
Also, the congressman charged ahead for his support of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 despite the dissenting voices of most in the GOP camp. Craig Hosmer, a fellow Republican, reluctantly joined Bell’s campaign posse to pass the act. He purportedly complained to Bell, “My God, my constituents are so mad at me for what I did under your advice.”
Bell’s admonition? “You’d better be in favor of the Civil Rights issue. Take most of the Democratic positions. This is an issue that’s going to come up again and again.”
The elder statesman smiles and states, “I am proud to have supported the Civil Rights Act of 1964 from the start. It was a bill that embraced equal opportunity for all people.” (I’m not surprised to discover that he admires Andrew Jackson. The volatile President from Tennessee is credited for creating greater equanimity in America’s voting system. In addition, Bell respects, “Jackson for beating the hell out of the British.”)
Former President Ford was another Republican who did not always share Bell’s vision. “Gerry got mad at me a few times when I disagreed with him on a bill he considered important. He would call and give me hell for it. I usually gave him my reasons why and keep to my position…Gerry never seemed to carry any grudge afterwards,” says Bell.
“I knew Gerry very well because he, for many years, was the Republican leader of the House of Representatives, my boss so to speak.” Bell continues with a bemused look, “I helped elect him to that position.”
Like cowboys traversing the lonely range of U.S. politics teeming with predators, a brotherly bond developed. In the riotous sixties, Ford was instrumental in Bell’s decision to stay in Washington. After the death of his second wife, Bell confesses, “I was somewhat ambivalent but inclined to stay in politics. My sister-in-law was adamant that I resign from politics to take care of my children.” The California congressman says, “Gerry went straight to the heart of the problem. He said, ‘I know there are some who feel you should not run again. But I think you should.’” Bell cracks a little grin. “Gerry told me, ‘You don’t always agree with me and I don’t always agree with you. But I think the Republican House needs men like you. It needs men who study the issues, have sincere viewpoints and can express themselves like you do.’” The congressman stayed in Washington.
Preceding Bell’s personal tragedy, the USA suffered the trauma of JFK’s assassination. (The elder statesman recalls, “When I did meet Kennedy at a party, he paid more attention to my wife!”) Ford, as a congressman, served on the committee investigating the murder. Bell recalls, “Gerry Ford wasn’t positive that there wasn’t another shot.”
Does Bell believe Oliver Stone’s rendition of JFK? “I buy a certain amount of the conspiracy theory because Kennedy had taken stands against the unions. They had the power to do something like this,” he replies.
I interject, “How about the Mafioso?”
He shakes his head. “The Mafia may have joined in but I don’t think they were behind the shooting.”
Ronald Reagan gave up his on-screen shoot-’em-up pistols for a career in political banter. As a Republican, naturally many of the past presidents who were Bell’s friends sprang from the GOP. However, originally Bell knew Reagan as a Democrat. He served as the Chairman of Democrats for Bell. The elder statesman chuckles. “Reagan was a very funny person. And a good talker. He’d say the same things as Barry Goldwater and make it sound all right!”
Another thespian well versed in the ways of Washington and tinsel town is his wife, Marian. In her silver screen siren days, The New York Times noted that, “Marian McCargo is a very classy girl.” And studio press agents of the ’60s touted her around town as retaining that, “refined star quality woefully missing from the motion picture world since Grace Kelly bid adieu to filmmaking.”
Glittering Hollywood connections aside, Marian’s access to Washington’s illuminati were abundant preceding Al Bell Jr. For starters, Marian matriculated into the same East Coast finishing school as Jacqueline Bouvier. Her holiday playground was Martha’s Vineyard. (She recalls the Teddy Kennedy Chappaquidick incident with a laugh. “I remember the Republicans on the island. Most were rejoicing, ‘Thank God! He won’t be President!’”)
Currently Marian’s brother’s beachfront home borders Walter Cronkite’s property. (“My brother knows him very well. I love Walter Cronkite,” coos Marian.) Apparently Cronkite and Clinton are close friends. So Marian has met to the Clintons on many an occasion in Massachusetts. She exclaims, “Hillary and Bill are very charming!”
Marian giggles. Like a schoolgirl delighting in a delicious story, she explains. “Clinton was on Walter’s boat one day. This was about the time the Monica Lewinsky gift tie scandal was all over the news. When they moored on my brother’s dock, Clinton leaned over to my very pretty daughter-in-law who was wearing a white bathing suit and hat. He said, ‘What a lovely tie – I mean hat you have on!’”
While Marian was well rooted in Washington, Bell was circulating around Hollywood with starlets such as Zsa Zsa Gabor and June Lockhart. (This, of course, was long before the matchmaking – courtesy of the couple’s children from former marriages – was a fait accompli.)
Bell is tightlipped to queries about Gabor. “She was very nice,” he says.
Marian chortles, “She probably thought he was a wealthy guy!” And then to her husband, “Her sister, Eva married a great supporter of yours. He was in aviation wasn’t he?”
Bell smiles in silence.
We glide into discussions about the Duke. Serendipitously, both Bell and Marian individually knew John Wayne. (The congressman co-owned an Acapulco condo with the Western film star.) Marian concurs with her husband on the affability of the Duke.
The mega movie star, however, rattled her on the first date of shooting The Undefeated. Springing forth from Stella Adler’s acting classes, Marian stepped onto the set and asked the maestro to run lines. His reply? “If you don’t know what the lines are, what the hell you doing here?”
Bell nods his head. “Duke was like that.” He sites a disagreement with the third owner (a Beverly Hills attorney) of the Bell/Wayne home on the Mexican Riviera. Wayne asked Bell for diplomatic council on dealing with the lawyer’s girlfriend who was usurping the household power and position of Bell’s former spouse and the Duke’s beloved. The practiced politician voted “nay” on breathing a word. Wayne listened and announced, “I’ve got to say something Al.” (He did. The condo soon went on the market for sale.)
John Wayne also spoke up during Bell’s Senate campaign. The Hollywood icon appeared on numerous TV ads endorsing the hopeful Bell. However, the Duke dropped his support when Bell backed Tom Bradley for Mayor. Why? Bell shrugs his shoulder and quietly states, “Many people thought Bradley was too liberal.”
Discoursing on off-camera Duke dramas prompts me to inquire if Marian misses acting. Her bright blue eyes beam. “It is very exciting to be involved in the main stream of American life. And marrying Al is a high point in my life. My husband and my family are always top priority regardless of ambition or career.” Marian looks down at her cold tea for an instant. “It always bothers you a little but ” Marian interrupts her train of thought with a guffaw. “I’ll never say no to a job. And acting is fun. But the anxiety of the next job – oh!”
Marian compares her silver screen past life to tennis. “I’m a tennis player. Whether you win or lose, it’s important that you play the game.” The ashen blonde smiles serenely. “I’d have liked to play the game with more fortitude. I should have fought harder.”
So where does Marian execute her smashing serves and returns? “The Los Angeles Tennis Club of course!… Why? The friendships.” With a giant grin she adds, “And the great tennis!’
Before knee surgery, Bell also engaged in the activity of chasing the bouncing yellow balls as avidly as his wife. Besides oil, the blueblood sport runs thick in the Bell veins. (Burning the midnight oil, Bell Sr. graduated Occidental College with the honors of giving the valedictorian speech and garnering the Inter-Collegiate Champion and Pacific Coast Tennis Champion trophies. Bell’s father also held national tennis rankings in the early 1900s.)
Despite the passion for the bourgeois sport of tennis, cosmopolitan soirees at chic LA clubs and cocktail parties at the White House, the couple could have stepped out of a chapter in a Louis L’Amour novel. Alphonzo Bell Jr. is perfectly cast as the hero who declares, “I want to be remembered as a man who was honest and forthright. My word was kept. I didn’t mealy-mouth and do something different.” Marian, whom Bell proclaims is, “the love of my life” slips easily into the role of the devoted, spirited wife.
The last chapter of this cowboy hero and his Mrs. is bound to have a happy Hollywood ending. Why not? Based on the past adventures of Alphonzo Bell Jr., fans know that he is the invincible “Bel Air Kid!”
Alphonzo Bell Jr.’s autobiography, The Bel Air Kid is available for purchase at alphonzobell.com.
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.
By Jeffrey the Barak
A controversial name for a club! Is it racist? Is it sexist? Or is it just a great name packed with humor and accuracy? This is an interview with Haruko, the Los Angeles entrepreneur who is the brains and the beauty behind Yellowtail, an exclusive club.
When Haruko first told me she was opening a nightclub called Yellowtail, I looked at the attractive Asian female watch dealer and gemologist and burst out laughing. A moment later I asked for an interview.
Haruko never uses her last name. In Japan she used it, but this is America, and people have enough trouble just saying Haruko.
We are on our way to a café to discuss her soon to open nightclub Yellowtail. With the traffic roaring by on Beverly Boulevard in West Hollywood, Haruko stops at a showroom window. This is the furniture district. We look at the designs through the thick plate glass. So modern they look like the early 1970′s all over again.
“You have to buy the whole theme”, she says.
And this is how she approached the concept for Yellowtail. Haruko grew up in Japan, and moved to Texas before she ever learned to speak English. In the café she orders green tea.
When did you move to the U.S?
1991. I came to the University of Texas as an exchange student. I could not read or speak English, but I could understand it. In Texas I learned to speak English in four months and moved out to California to the G.I.A., The Gemological Institute of America. I became a Gemologist.
I had worked at a marketing research company in Japan and specialized in jewelry stores. I decided to come to the United States and ended up becoming a gemologist.
But your main business now is dealing in vintage watches?
That’s all I do now, at least until Yellowtail is ready.
What made you decide to open a nightclub?
You know what? This is very profound. Basic desire. I like to challenge my creativity in any field I can. That’s why I got involved in this vintage business. Vintage watches are more fascinating, the designs and the history and political reasons behind the designs are much more interesting. This lounge business is part of my creative challenge.
As an Asian female, you can get away with calling this lounge Yellowtail. I couldn’t call a club that and get away with it.
Of course not, you’re a Caucasian and a male.
But yellow is offensive to Asian people, and tail is offensive to women. As an outstanding piece of yellowtail yourself, you can say the name!
Yes! It’s funny, but this is also the paradox. I am the one taking it. It’s really interesting that this country has so many tied up concepts about “you are black, you are male, you are female ”
They are obsessed?
Yes, obsessed with their categories, and the bottom line is, we’re really all human; just forget that.
Are you going to let humans come into the club?
Yes! Forget it! People, even you, end up being controlled by the images they have.
How would you describe the concept of the club? Is Yellowtail going to be a lounge?
A high quality lounge, with cocktails and very exclusive gourmet appetizers. No Entrees. Very quiet music to create mood and atmosphere. High quality furniture, subdued lighting, a socially acceptable place to come. A cool place to hang out for adults over 30.
A central bar with booths?
Exactly, yes. It will be very beautiful. There will be a huge fish tank underneath the bar. We are joking about fish.
Yellowtail tuna?
Tuna yes.
But those are eight feet long; they can’t swim in the bar.
No, but there will be a lot of fish symbolism everywhere. Beautiful, high-class New York style for adults.
Now when you first hear the name Yellowtail, the assumption is there will be beautiful Asian women, and older white guys hanging around.
That’s the whole concept and also the target.
So when you hire the girls, what do they expect their role to be?
The hostesses, the waitresses will have very classic ultra sexy designer uniforms and obviously they will have to be quite beautiful and sexual.
There is no shortage of beautiful Asian girls in L.A.
There are very many young Asian girls with a lot of sex appeal who would like to work in a high quality environment. There will be a beautiful atmosphere, beautiful furniture, beautiful silverware, and beautiful uniforms. They’ll be serving very exquisite drinks. Why not?
So the busy time will probably be early evening?
Probably later, but we are shooting for the after work executives also. We have a private room and also conference facilities.
What about the female executives? Are you going to have handsome young Asian men for them?
Actually we are hiring all handsome Caucasian men! All bartenders have already been hired. They are actors/bartenders and they’re gorgeous Caucasians. All Caucasians.
Do you remember the case at Hooters, when a man tried to get a job and he sued them
He lost! The theme was girls.
So that’s encouraging in case anyone tries to do any funny legal stuff?
Oh yeah! Negative or positive, anything that is publicity, I’ll take anything. You know I might get sued for racial discrimination or even sexual discrimination, but this is a part of the challenge you know. We should not take this so seriously. We are humans. Don’t put yourself into little boxes. You are the loser if you are putting yourself in there. I really do think that. These are some of the basic questions I am throwing at society.
What will be the main source of revenue, the drinks?
Yes, the drinks will be exceptionally interesting. There will not be a membership but we do have a VIP system. VIPs will be given a precious gift. We will have a private bottle showcase. People can reserve their private bottles just for them, with their name on and kept in a locked case. This could be single malt Scotch or exclusive Japanese Sake.
The economy is not that healthy, and this is a high-end business. Does that worry you?
No, people drink when the economy is down. They have more decadence and more fun in such times. Statistics show that when the economy goes down, the alcohol consumption goes up. Leisure business goes up.
Have you decided on your final location yet?
Pending, but in West Hollywood.
It’s very difficult to park in West Hollywood.
It will be taken care of. It’s a very interesting business. You really have to know from zero to a hundred. From valet-parking to oil traffic in the kitchen. From how to read the blueprints in the remodeling process to how to negotiate with the lawyer about the lease. Managing people is the most difficult part.
My partner is an expert in restaurant management, and one of the main investors is quite a famous guy who owns a lot of clubs. He knows about the little holes we need to fill. Of course these guys are behind the scenes, I’m the one in front. Instead of people getting upset about the stereotypes, I’m there myself. It becomes the opposite. It doesn’t become offensive.
As in martial art, you use the power of your opponent and turn it against him. You become the one.
Yes, playing with the word, Yellowtail. Turn back the power, exactly.
The name Yellowtail is powerful.
It got me the investors. It’s not like Hooters though. They use the funny name, but it’s not a cool place to go and you don’t expect good food, exclusive drinks. Just sleazy guys watching football. Even sophisticated and cultured women can go to Yellowtail for exclusive food and cocktails. Cultured people usually get the joke and they don’t get offended. Life is too precious to be uptight about things like that, don’t you think? I do.
Yes it’s a waste of time and energy to be uptight. What happens if all of these beautiful sexy young Asian girls marry the clients and you run out of staff?
I’ll supply more. These people are not stable people. They are in between college and career, and they are always quitting so I’m not really counting on them to stay for a long time. I don’t feel any obligation to support their lives because they are unstable people.
They’ll probably make enough money there to buy their own health insurance etc?
Yes.
And the money will probably be as good as they can get without having to take their clothes off?
Imagination is better than taking clothes off.
The costumes must be pretty hot.
Very beautiful in fact. By a well known designer. And they will wear high heels. It’s mandatory. Nobody can wear ugly shoes. Shoes are very important. They are sensual.
Will you combine your businesses and sell watches in the club?
No. I will keep them separate.
Do you draw a parallel with the Playboy clubs of yesterday?
No.
What about the food?
We hired a top chef. It will be Asian food but not Sushi. That is overdone. It will be appetizers because people tend to not want to eat a lot in these situations.
Like Tapas?
Exactly! Asian Tapas. Funny you said that.
So it will be like Tapas and Tochus?
Especially for my Jewish clients yes.
Well it is L.A. If you’re not Asian you must be Jewish.
We have many celebrities who will be giving their names to the appetizers.
Like the George Bush Salmon?
I’m not powerful enough to know George Bush yet!
He’s too religious to go there.
And he doesn’t drink either. And I don’t consider him to be too cultured; he might not even get in.
Which celebrities have lent their names to the dishes?
I am unable to reveal that at this time, but we have certain people. It’s very exciting. There will be finger food and exclusive silverware and chopsticks. The details of the design are important. The linens are embroidered with the logo of the fishes. And there will be a very interesting cocktail menu and exclusive glasses. And an exclusive wine collection plus sake and green tea.
Our wall features falling water on frosted glass. The fish tank, low chairs and low tables are all part of the look. And we do have an area for acoustic performance. Nothing loud. People can sit and talk. A lot of consideration has been given to the lighting. I had to convince my partners of the importance of the fish tank. They will be blue fishes. We are using a lot of blue, not yellow, even though it is Yellowtail. It’s a soothing color.
We have a video screen system silently showing black and white Asian scenes. People may not always want to talk. It will be a quiet place. A couple can come in and be quiet. And we have very pretty girls, using the power that they have.
When do you think Yellowtail is going to open?
Six months is a realistic estimate.
By Kim Knode
The author and the Queens
The stereotype of beauty queens as Barbies with silicon breasts stuffed into swimsuits topped off with tiaras is starting to loosen its self-righteous grip in my mind. The pageant gals I spoke with: Mrs. United States 2001, Dana Opsincs; Mrs. Globe 2001, Stacey Cooper; and Mrs. US Globe 2001, Becky Coomes are well-rounded women who are as different as well, Barbie, Skipper and Kelly! For example, Opsincs thrills to the roar of engines revving up for a death-defying chase around the NASCAR racetrack. Cooper loves chasing yellow tennis balls around the court in hopes of adding another golden trophy to her collection. Mississippi born and bred Becky Coomes delights in touring her state giving ‘I-think-I-can’ motivational speeches to school children.
Heart smarts and relationship savoir-faire is what impressed me most in the interviews (besides the rhinestones!) If nothing else, the ladies deserve endurance medals. Each has spent over 4,745 days of their lives with the same man. All three have sailed past their crystal anniversaries. Impressive too is their candor about navigating through choppy waters stirred up by arguments about money and children. (None of them mentioned sex.)
The lady who prides herself on luxurious golden locks and the crown of Mrs. United States, 17-year marriage veteran, Dana Opsincs confesses, “There have been times that I’ve been so mad at my husband that I could spit.”
So how does she resolve the differences? The exuberant lass who I met on stage shortly after receiving the title of Mrs. United States 2001 disappears for a second. I hear a small sigh on the other end of the telephone. “I’m not a fighter. I am the kind that will clam up for two or three days then talk things out.” She declares that, ” part of our success as a couple is our ability to step back and look at how petty things were that we were arguing about.”
Speaking up is no problem for Mrs. Globe 2001, Stacey Cooper. (Perhaps her tennis training prepares her to step up to the net fearlessly and face challenges.) In between bites of green salad at a fund-raising luncheon for abused women, Cooper tells me, “If Tim and I have disagreements or things we don’t like about each other – we just say it. And then work it out.”
I question the open declaration or dislike of a mate’s behavior. Cooper (wearing a light lime suit which shows off her tan) looks directly at me with flashing brown eyes. “You must tell them,” says the 16-year marriage veteran. She explains, ” No marriage is perfect. You have a commitment to work it out. I think people give up too easily nowadays.”
As Cooper munches her Boston lettuce, I ask about communicating differences in front of children. “You have to stand together on every issue with your children. You can argue points behind closed doors,” she says.
Drs. Ron and Mary Hulnick who have conducted hundreds of seminars on the subject of relationship over the course of their 20-year marriage agree. “Presenting a united front to children is exceedingly important if you want to teach them that relationship is about cooperation,” says Dr. Ron. He adds, “Good communication and mutual understanding are the keys to winning the game.”
Mrs. US Globe 2001, Becky Coomes embraces the Hulnicks’ sentiment. The Mississippi beauty claims that compassion is an essential part of keeping her 13-year marriage on an even keel. For instance, her husband, Ken, sometimes gets hot under the collar about the pageant queen’s penchant for clothes shopping and purchasing video games for her son. Instead of exploding and reacting, This Southern Belle says, “I try to be more understanding of his needs and wishes.” Dressed in a fire engine red mini with matching jacket, shoes and purse in the lobby of a luxury Palm Springs hotel (the morning after snatching the Mrs. US Globe 2001 scepter), she explains, “Ken would be happy with nothing. He was brought up having very little. You see, he came from a large family with 12 brothers and sisters.”
The Coomes Family
So how does the couple regain harmony after a heated discussion? Coomes coolly states, “We talk it out.” She asserts that, “Women in the South are a lot stronger then people may give them credit for.” Mrs. US Globe 2001 continues, “Yes, we are submissive. But we want a man to support our dreams.” She flashes her pearly whites, “Or, you know, it’s just not going to work.”
Coomes continues, “From the time, “I won “Most Beautiful” at Heinz Community College, I knew I wanted to be Mrs. Mississippi. I never had the dream to be Miss Mississippi. I always wanted the all-American Family.”
Some might say Coomes realized her goal of the all-American family and American dream. Past pageant wins include Mrs. Mississippi America 1991, Mrs. Mississippi United States 1993, Mrs. Mississippi International 1998, Mrs. Mississippi All American. Her latest title is, of course, Mrs. US Globe 2001. In addition she helped her husband expand his snack distribution company to an empire. Proudly she states, “The business does well over million dollars a year sales in quarters and dollars. You know, just through those vending machines!”
Also, Coomes is now able to greet her son at the door after school. “I was always torn between home and work,” she explains. “So I moved my (formal wear rental) business home when my lease came due.” (Becky’s Kloset was created as a reaction to aspiring beauty and prom queens coveting Coomes’ pageant gowns.)
Conversely, Cooper (who is fit and fabulous looking at 40) recently stopped serving “crudités” to her children after school because she went back to work. All four of her progeny urged her to accept an invitation from New York’s Ford Agency to return to her modeling career. And what was her partner’s reaction? Mrs. Globe 2001 proudly proclaims, “My husband has never squashed anything that I wanted to do.”
However, the athletic Coopers are able to keep their commitment to maintain a solid family unit by traveling together. “Last week, my 13-year-old had a national basketball tournament. We flew where she had to go. Two weeks earlier, another one was also in a sports thing. My 15-year-old does dance competitions around the country.” The professional model/pageant queen smiles and says, “We all support each other.”
Psychologist, Robert Jameson (who is married to the owner of a successful Santa Monica skin care salon) declares that, “the advantage of couples with common goals is like a corporation with a mission statement.” When conflict occurs, couples can steer their Love Boat back on course by remembering their mutual interests.
Indeed, car racing is a fascination Opsincs and her husband, Bill have shared for 17 years. Mrs. United States 2001 and her beloved also revel in swooshing down snowy slopes together. “Bill and I love to ski. In fact, we’d love to move to Colorado,” she says.
“So why are you still in Florida?” I ask.
“Well, we both have these career paths going on.” Opsincs explains, “He’s got his electrical business. Plus I’ve got things that I do like the pageants and PR for (race car) team Rensi.” She enthusiastically adds, “We’re both working hard and saving so we can live in Colorado.”
Certainly expending energy and effort to realize heart visions are nothing new for Opsincs, Coomes and Cooper. Strutting the catwalk with confidence in Atlantic City or anywhere else is precipitated by months – years of disciplined diets and exercise regimes.
Perhaps the ladies’ diligence lends itself to a willingness to communicate, have compassion, resolve differences, discover and support every family member’s passions so they can manifest dreams of a happy home. These are hardly the attributes or accessories of a plastic Barbie doll. Maybe a sentiment from Coomes’ poem for Mississippi school children is right, “…For out of the world we find, Success begins with a fellow’s will – It’s all in the state of mind.”
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.
By Nicola Pittam
He’s the biggest director in the world and the mastermind such box office hits as ET, Jurassic Park, Jaws and Indiana Jones. But while Steven Spielberg makes movies that pull in hundreds of millions of dollars, his mum still runs the tiny restaurant she began 25 years ago.
Petite Leah Adler, who has just turned 82, could easily have retired years ago and been looked after by her famous son, who is reportedly worth more than $2 billion. But instead she chooses to work up to eight hours a day, seven days a week, greeting customers at her Los Angeles eatery The Milky Way.
The diner has proved such a success that even Spielberg has to put in his daily order for a Tuna Stuffer, which is pita bread stuffed with tuna salad, early to make sure he’s not left out!
Leah said: “Steven loves the food we serve here – whenever he is in town shooting a film I always have to send him over a tuna sandwich to the set. That’s his favorite dish off the menu and he always gets his order in early. But when he’s not shooting, he comes into the restaurant and then he order the cabbage rolls which he also loves. I’m so proud of him, I never dreamed he would be where he is today. I’m still toiling away here and he’s the most famous director in the world.”
“Seriously, I love doing this. I don’t think I could ever give it up – it keeps me young! I’ve just turned 82 but I feel 30 years younger and I know that running this place is what keeps me on my toes.”
Customers entering The Milky Way are immediately struck by the homeliness of the restaurant as Leah is on hand to meet and greet them. But soon their eyes turn the walls which are adorned with mementos of her famous son.
There are movie posters from most of his films, a clapperboard from Jaws and, of course, photos of Spielberg himself, including one with him and Leah at the Academy Awards when he won for Schindler’s List.
And on one counter there are even photos of Leah with Kirk Douglas and even Bill Clinton. Former concert pianist Leah proudly shows diners the pictures and says: “That’s my son, isn’t he wonderful? I don’t know where he got his creativity from! Well maybe he gets a little of it from me!”
“He was always making movies when he was a kid. I think he did his first one when he was eight. Of course then we never had any idea that he would go on to become where he is today. Then he would just spend all day filming the family and making up these wonderful little tales. He has a wonderful imagination and I love all his movies, they are so whimsical and extraordinary. But my favorite must be Schindler’s List. It is such a powerful film and close to all our hearts.”
With Spielberg on his way to success after paving the way for summer blockbusters with his hit movie Jaws in 1975, Leah decided it was time for her own: ‘Action.’
Leah, who has split from Spielberg’s dad and remarried Bernie Adler, decided she wanted to start her own business because she couldn’t find anywhere decent to eat. She wanted somewhere she could get fabulous home style food but without any meat included.
So after searching through Los Angeles and hitting a dead end she decided to open the Milky Way in 1979, the same year that Spielberg hit cinema screens with Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Leah came up with the name Milky Way, not after one of her son’s fantasy sci-fi movies like Close Encounters or ET but because the menu is kosher and made up of dairy-based dishes.
Leah explained: “The reason I called the restaurant The Milky Way has nothing to do with Steven’s science fiction type movies like Close Encounters or ET! The reason is that we only serve dairy products – there is no meat on the menu at all. We have some fish like salmon or snapper but that’s it. However, there is a lot of cheese and egg based dishes as well as vegetarian dishes like eggplant parmesan and spinach crepes.”
Leah has three full time chefs that prepare the meals, which include seven appetizers, six entrees, five specials, five pizzas, five different sandwiches, six light dishes, salads, soups and five deserts.
The petite owner admits she is not allowed in her own kitchen to cook after being barred by the chefs. But does decide what dishes go on the menu which has hardly changed over the years.
She added: “”I have three chefs and they do all the cooking – I’m not allowed in the kitchen! Besides I have far more fun meeting and greeting people as they arrive for lunch of dinner. I love talking to everyone and getting to know them, no matter if they’re famous or just ordinary people.”
“We have people coming in who have been coming here for 20-odd years and often they want to chat as much as they want to eat! I do put the menu together but again I also have people who advise me – this is a business not just a place where I can hang out. I think the reason it has lasted so long is that I don’t put my favorite dishes on the menu or do the cooking!”
“I’m there’s lots of things that I and Steven like but no-one else would, so early on I realized I had to make the menu varied and not just thing I wanted to eat. Also the menu has not changed that much over the years, I’m a big believer in that once you find something you like, you should stick with it.”
“Occasionally I’ll update the menu and I listen to my customers about what they like but why change a winning formula? But even so I love all the dishes – my favorite is the dreamy cheesecake which is so light I could eat it day after day!”
Leah’s daughter and Spielberg’s sister Sue added: “Mum just loves running this place – we can’t tear her away from it. She doesn’t have to be in here every day but she really enjoys it and the customers all love her. She spends most of her time going from table to table chatting to everyone and making sure they’re having a good time.”
“If the customers are happy then so is she. No-one would ever guess that she is 82, the way she runs around here.”
And Leah says she has no plans to retire any time soon, adding: “I couldn’t ever imagine retiring, I love this too much. Besides what would Steven do without his daily sandwich to keep him going?”
Some examples of the dishes available on the Milky Way menu:
“APPETEASERS”
Freshest Norwegian Smoked Salmon with the fixins
Steamed Veggie Platter with a creamette dressing
Tangy Guacamole Dip with fresh tortilla chips
THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
Marinated Fish & Advocado: Tender fish filled with capers, Chinese peas, artichoke hearts and avocado in a tangy dressing
Spinach Seafood Fettuccine: Pasta sautéed in olive oil with smoked salmon, spinach and plum tomatoes
Oriental Stir Fry: Snowpeas and fresh veggies sauteed in a savoury Oriental dressing on a bed of rice or angel hair pasta
LUNCHEON ENTREES
Salmon Roulades: Baked slices of fresh Norwegian salmon layered with cream cheese and spinach pate. Served with toasted pine nuts and sauce béarnaise.
Cabbage Rolls: A classic. Poached cabbage leaves filled with our secret blend of fresh vegetables, rice and walnut pate. Baked with sauerkraut in tomato and served with potato pancakes and sour cream
Eggplant Parmesan: Delicately sautéed eggplant smothered in a zesty marinara sauce and baked with layers of mozzarella. Accompanied by a fresh green salad and garlic bread.
MILKY WAY SPECIALTIES
Spinach Crepes: A tasty combination of cream spinach accented by friend onions and wrapped in two golden crepes. Topped with melted cheese and served with garlic.
Cajun Blackened Snapper: Red snapper rolled in lively Cajun spices and blackened in a cast iron skillet. Served with rice.
Cheese Blintzes: What would a dairy restaurant be without blintzes? Ours are yummy. Served with sour cream and strawberry preserve.
BETWEEN THE SLICES
Tuna Stuffer: Pita bread stuffed with tasty tuna salad, lettuce and tomatoes.
Seafood Tacos: Two corn tortillas filled with succulent blackened fish, shredded cabbage, lettuce and tomatoes. Topped with tangy salsa and sour cream.
Hot Mushroom Sandwich: Delicate mushroom pate topped with melted Swiss cheese, avocado and sliced tomato. Served on toast.
DELIGHTFUL DESSERTS
* Dreamy Cheesecake
* Fresh Fruit Stir Fry
* Luscious Carrot Cake
* Devilishly Rich Chocolate Mousse Pie
* Tangy Lemon Tart
Nicola Pittam is a British journalist who has worked for Splash News in Los Angeles for four years. She reports daily on the latest from Tinsel Town for the British newspapers
Hotel Home – Peter Greenberg’s Unique Odyssey
By Nicola Pittam
Traveler Peter Greenberg has transformed his house into a real holiday home. Peter was so impressed with his stay in hotels around the world, that he immediately turned to them when he wanted to decorate his home.
Now the travel writer has decked out his Los Angeles house with furnishings from 47 different hotels. From the wooden floor and kitchen appliances through to his bed and toilet, all the items can be found in a number of famous hotels. He has even gone as far as modeling his swimming pool on one at a tropical paradise hotel.
Peter, who lives in Sherman Oaks, Los Angeles, said: “My home really is decorated from 47 hotels from around the world. Everything here from the wooden floor down to the door locks has been bought from a hotel somewhere. Each furnishing is something that I fell in love with while I was staying at the hotel. I just wanted to recreate that feeling in my home and after a lot of phone calls, I did it.”
But is doesn’t come cheap to keep your holiday memories with you all the time – so far Peter has spent close to $200,000 decorating his house. The most expensive single item, apart from the wooden floor from Sweden, is the bathroom window.
Peter first spotted the window at the Princeville Resort on the island of Kauai in Hawaii. The window looks like any ordinary window at first but at the push of a button it instantly becomes frosted so people cannot see through it.
Peter, who has been a travel writer for 20 years, has now installed one of the windows next to his bathtub, which came from the Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong.
He added: “I was fascinated with the window the moment I saw it in the hotel. I had great fun playing with it. I would go into the toilet and just stand there until someone came in and looked at me oddly. As soon as they did that, I would press the button and the window would get frosted. I’m still amazed I never broke the thing, because I took great delight from that moment on in constantly running to the bathroom.
“The window was tricky to get because the hotel at first had no record of where they got it. But after two months of tracing, we found the company and got one.”
Another quirky item in Peter’s bathroom is a toilet from the Park Hyatt Hotel in Tokyo. It is the only toilet Peter has ever seen that comes with an owner’s manual to operate the heater, bidet and fan.
But one of the cheapest pieces is also in Peter’s bathroom and comes from the Savoy Hotel in London. The 15 inch diameter showerheads looks impressive but cost him just $200.
Peter added: “I just had to have the shower head. I could never forget the feeling of standing under the shower at the Savoy. It is the reason I stay there when I travel to London, it was one luxury I could not do without!”
But Peter came up with the idea of decorating his home from hotels purely by accident. His original home in Sherman Oaks, a suburb of Los Angeles, had been destroyed in the 1994 Northridge earthquake. The house had to be razed to the ground and Peter spent more than two years fighting with the insurance company before he could start rebuilding.
He brought in architect Garth Sheriff who asked him what style he would like the house. Peter started listing a number of items that had caught his eye over the years during his world-wide travels.
Garth was making detailed notes but after 20 minutes stopped Peter telling him: “You’ve given me a list of all your favorite hotels furnishings.” And Peter quickly had the brainwave of calling round the hotels to see if the items he loved were available.
He quickly hit the phones and found out that in most cases the hotels were happy to sell him the things he wanted. And if they didn’t sell it themselves, they soon put him onto the manufacturers.
Peter said: “It was time to my house rebuild from scratch. When Garth first met me with contractor Matt Matheson, nothing was left of my house except a huge dirt pit. They both sat me down and told me to make a list of what I wanted in the new house and to decide what style I wanted.
“I had no clear idea but Garth said: ‘Ok just go room-by-room and give me a wish list of what you’d like in each of them’. So I went from room to room telling Garth what I wanted but ten minutes later he interrupted me. He laughed as he showed me that what I had given them were about 47 separate, fabulous, individually great hotel experiences I had had around the world.”
“In the bathroom, if I could just get the showerhead from the Savoy hotel in London, the bathtub from the Peninsula in Hong Kong. I had carried on with the tiles from the Four Seasons in Hawaii and I saw this great sink at Caesars Palace, and then there was this incredible toilet from the Park Hyatt in Tokyo.”
Peter’s list went on for four pages and he soon realized that he wanted to live like he worked. With his schedule as travel correspondent for NBC, Peter traveled all over the world to hundreds of destinations. And he finally realized that not only did he stay in the hotels that he had written on the list but had had great experiences at them.
“With my travel schedule, I had not only stayed in all the hotels I mentioned, but had experienced that showerhead at the Savoy in London, and had been intrigued by the unusual toilet at the Park Hyatt in Tokyo. In fact, it was arguable that I spend more time in hotels than I do at home, so I thought wouldn’t it be logical to want to incorporate the best hotel creature comforts in my house?”
As soon as Peter finished his list he started hitting the telephones and calling every hotel. He asked if he could buy the king-size bed from the Four Seasons in New York and the pillows from the Athenium in London. Peter also wanted to get made from the same wood used by the Regent Hotel in Bangkok and some lights from the Park Hyatt in Sydney.
Finally after many phone calls to hotels and manufacturers, Peter had his complete home. He said: “I hit the phones and started calling the hotels in the United States and around the world where I had those great experiences. Within three weeks, I had made the decision – to build my house around the great hotel experiences of the world.”
After furnishing the bedroom and bathroom, Peter decided he didn’t want to stop there. Soon he had the wooden flooring from the presidential suite at the Sheraton in Stockholm and the granite tiles he had seen from the Hyatt in Jakarta. The Regent in Bangkok put him in touch with their furniture maker, Peter Joghrat, who has his own workshop and showroom directly behind the hotel.
Peter loved the wood from the hotel so much, he flew architect Garth to the hotel to talk to Joghrat. He then had several items made including doors, cabinets and bookcases.
Peter then moved on to the detail work like the lights, looks and the kitchen. He bought lamps and bathroom sinks from the Europa Regina in Venice and for his kitchen appliances he went to one of his favorite hotels, the Mark in New York. Peter said: “I also wanted the appliances from the Mark Hotel which were Viking Stoves and Sub Zero refrigerators.
“For the sinks and the bathtubs, I went to the folks at Kohler, in Wisconsin, then stopped by the factory in Madison, to watch them make my refrigerator at the sub-zero plant. I even flew the architect out to Bangkok because I loved the furniture so much at the Regent Hotel. And not only did I get the built in counter tops and cabinets but also the doors and window moldings.”
Peter has also bought table lamps from the Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles, a dresser from the Dorchester in London, the master closet from the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, a huge clock from the Hilton Hotel in Akron, Ohio and a Karastan Carpet from the Regent Beverly Wilshire in Beverly Hills where they filmed the Julia Roberts movie Pretty Woman.
He also has an antique phone from a different hotel from such countries as Albania, Denmark, Argentina, France, and Greece, twenty in total.
But Peter didn’t keep the hotel designs to inside the house, he even got his swimming pool from a hotel. He said: “Even my pool comes from a hotel. I copied the design from the Westin Hotel in St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands. And what distinguishes this pool is not just the structural design, but the lighting and engineering. At night, a tube of fiber optics ringing the underside of the pool coping produces a seductive, subdued light that also slowly changes colors.
Now six years after his first home was destroyed, Peter has his dream home featuring all his favorite comforts. But, as he explains, anyone could furnish their homes with items they see in hotels.
Peter said: “This idea is totally accessible to anyone staying at any hotel. For example, the Four Seasons in New York sells a few hundred of their beds a year to guests. The Savoy is doing a brisk business in showerheads while the The W hotel chain sells its ‘heavenly bed’. Literally dozens of hotels throughout the world place their logo on ashtrays or bathrobes but it is essentially meaningless. But if a guest likes their armoire, sink or even the toilet, what better advertisement for the hotel than for that item to be installed in the guest’s own house!”
Here is a list of some of the furnishings that Peter Greenberg has bought from hotels to furnish his home.
KITCHEN
Lights – Europe Regina Hotel in Venice
Wooden floor – Sheraton Hotel in Sweden
Appliances – Mark Hotel in New York
Granite tiles – Hyatt Hotel in Jakarta
Built in wooden counters and cabinets – Regent Hotel in Bangkok
SMALL BATHROOM
Lights and sink – Europa Regina Hotel in Venice
BACK OFFICE
Wooden book cases and cabinets – Regent Hotel in Bangkok
LIVING ROOM
Granite tiles – Hyatt Hotel in Jakarta
Door locks – St Regis Hotel in New York
Chairs – Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles
Lights – Park Hyatt Hotel in Sydney
High backed chair – Manila Hotel in the Philippines
OFFICE
Clock – Hilton Hotel in Akron, Ohio
Key Cabinet/dresser – Dorchester Hotel in London
Phone system – Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas (although antique phones in other rooms from various hotels)
BEDROOM
King size bed – Four Seasons Hotel in New York
Bedding – Shutters Hotel in Los Angeles
Pillows – Athenium Hotel in London
Lamp – Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles
Slate – Four Seasons Hotel in Mauii, Hawaii
Carpet – Greenbriar Hotel in Virginia
Master closet – Oriental Hotel in Bangkok
Coat hangers – Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong
BATHROOM
Sink – Europa Regina Hotel in Venice
Frosted window – Principal Hotel in Kauai, Hawaii
Bathtub – Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong
Shower head – Savoy Hotel in London
Toilet – Park Hyatt Hotel in Tokyo
GARDENS
Swimming pool – Westin Hotel in St John’s, Virgin Islands
Photography by Leigh Green of Splash News.
Writer Nicola Pittam is a British journalist who has worked for Splash News in Los Angeles for four years. She reports daily on the latest from Tinsel Town for the British newspapers
By Kim Knode
Alexandra Roberts, Beautiful Eyes (cosmetics company) CEO curls her 5’10” lanky body into a black leather chair in my apartment. (My humble abode is located across from the Armani Exchange in Santa Monica.
Serendipitously her attire defines the casual elegance of the Italian designer.) Roberts accentuates her trim figure with an ebony cashmere pullover and charcoal light wool slacks coordinated with dark ankle boots. With a toss of her luxurious honey-colored locks, I see the cover girl face of the former Eileen Ford model. She smiles and swears that the correct use of, “cosmetics is like knowing the combination lock to feeling good.”
The make-up company CEO hastens to add, “I believe the philosophy that we are all beautiful on the inside. And I adhere to using all the tools and techniques available to reflect our own individual unique beauty.”
Hot Lashes, Roberts’ invention, is one such tool. New York make-up artists inspired her safe-to-use heated eyelash curler. “They would use the hair dryer on eyelash curlers, ” says the former model. Why? “To open up the eyes – the windows of the soul,” replies Roberts. She promises me that Hot Lashes will,”A: make you look more awake and B: make your eyes look two to three times larger.”
Apparently she has got QVC audiences convinced. Every Roberts’s appearance on the shopping network produces wildfire Hot Lashes sales. Her clientele includes several celebrities such as the queen of Weight Watchers, Sarah Ferguson. Cosmopolitan rates the Hot Lashes eyelash curling system in their top 10, “Gotta Have Golds.” Mademoiselle editors also rave about the product. Fitness researchers report that Roberts’ mascara, which accompanies every eyelash curler, is “smudge- proof even after a five-mile run.” (Beautiful Eyes scientists are currently cooking up other make-up, which survives the marathon day of everyone from model to mom.)
Roberts also conducts experiments on her king-size bed in her beachfront Malibu home. ” I recommend all women do this,” says the CEO with an impish smile. “Spread your make-up on the bed – experiment! See what works.” She explains, “Like a designer or architect, look at it as a time to aesthetically train your eye.”
So how does a lady like Roberts go from appearing in glossy ads and steamy Jacuzzi movie scenes with Mel Gibson to a CEO charting sales? “An accident on a ski trip,” replies Roberts. “I was always waiting for someone like a Revlon” to manufacture the product. So with a little extra time on her hands, the mannequin turned businesswoman. She hired scientists and started exploring the possibilities of Hot Lashes.
Her modeling career also began serendipitously in Texas where an Eileen Ford agent plucked her as one of the Lone Star State’s rarest roses. Any thoughts of modeling again? I ask. “I wouldn’t seek it, ” says Roberts. She explains, “I’m pretty focused on the Beautiful Eyes business right now.”
Does she still watch her weight with the same eagle eye of her Manhattan days? ” With the years I’ve gotten more disciplined with the honoring of self and form for the sake of health,” says the former model. Roberts maintains that higher self-esteem makes, “cutting out carbs, chips and cookies easier.” She confesses, however, a penchant for chocolate cake. Roberts stresses the fact that, ” my diet isn’t about deprivation.” As part of her self-care program, the Beautiful Eyes CEO takes “brisk walks” on the sands of the Pacific Ocean in Malibu.
If Hot Lashes’ success is any indication, the signs of Roberts rapidly stepping into a future where her beautiful eyes will spot more women adding Beautiful Eyes tools to their daily regimen, looks certain.
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.
See more of Kim’s work at www.kimknode.com
By Kim Knode
The author with Mrs. US Globe 2001
The diamond-studded tiara is placed on the pageant queen’s coiffure. The crowd goes crazy. The other contestants gather around with congratulations. At age twenty, my reaction to this oft-played TV scene was criticism. “Why the emphasis on looks?” Two decades later as wrinkles appear I have an answer. Looking good makes you feel good. Or at least – it helps in the self-esteem department.
Today, tricks are welcome to conceal the signs of living – crying and laughing – and dieting to and fro between dress sizes. So on my quest to reflect the inner exquisiteness (which I am more in touch with in my forties), I plied several plus- thirty Mrs. pageant victors to discover the secrets of the tiara set.
Encountering Stacey Cooper, Mrs. Globe 2001 in California was encouraging for those of us concerned with weight. Cooper is a far cry from a skinny Kate Moss. She is, however, a steadily working statuesque Eileen Ford model. Among her credits: “I was the tall brunette girl, Danny, on the Michael J. Fox Pepsi commercial,” says the super-fit model.
And as if a tiara and scepter are not enough Cooper touts a Cleo. (Cleos are kind of an Emmy for commercials.)
Competition thrills Cooper. “I love pageants. I think it is fabulous to be able to train and get in shape. ” Cooper declares, “It’s like any other sport.”
In fact, the beauty queen keeps strong and lean with loads of aerobic exercise. She pursues her preferred sport of tennis with almost as much passion as her ambitious Mrs. Globe platform of assisting abused women through the Women In Need (WIN) Foundation. Cooper is ranked as a 4.0 player with the USTA (United States Tennis Association).
Instead of diet sodas, nuts give Cooper the capacity to energetically navigate between WIN work, sports, modeling and motherhood. “I always keep almonds and stuff in my car because I don’t like drive-thrus. To me that is like hurting yourself,” says the model Mrs. Globe.
Cooper admits that, “Every once in a while I’ll have something fancy. But most of the time – just simple food – just healthy, simple, natural. I do a lot of vegetables.” She adds, “And I drink water – a ton, ton, ton.”
On the tennis court, the beauty queen often trades in her scepter for a water bottle in one hand and sunscreen in the other. She also replaces her tiara with a protective visor.
“To avoid cancer?” I ask.
“For aging!” replies Cooper. Eager to educate me, she explains that women should buy sunscreen that contains zinc oxide or titanium dioxide in the top three ingredients. Cooper adds that, ” I would also suggest the sunscreen on the hands and arms. A lot of times people try to make the face look good but forget about other exposed areas.”
Mrs. U.S. Globe 2001, Becky Coomes (who will be competing for the Mrs. Globe 2002 title and Cooper’s crown) says that her Mississippi grandmother’s elixir keeps her complexion flawless. (Savvy to the idea that a picture is worth a thousand words, Avon advertisers chose Coomes for their Retroactive Age Reversal Cream campaign.) Apparently, granny’s recipe is also partially responsible for Mrs. U.S. Globe’s Scarlet O’Hara waist.
Living up to her reputation in Mississippi as a champion of community service, Coomes agrees to share the winning ingredients with me. “You take one-tablespoon of apple cider vinegar, two tablespoons of honey and dissolve them in water.” She adds, “You know I’ve told women this. They drink the vinegar and honey with only a smidgen of water! ” She scrunches up her face with a giggle. “It’s important to take a big glass of water and stir it around.” Coomes also advises, “Drink it with a straw. You don’t want the vinegar to eat the enamel off your teeth.”
“And it helps with weight control?” I ask.
The southern belle whispers, “Oh it’s so good for your body because it will flush out the impurities.” She continues with a furtive smile, “And the vinegar will literally eat what you eat.” She adds, “Of course honey is good for your hair too.” Like a trial lawyer making her final statement she triumphantly concludes, “And the value of vinegar dates back to biblical times.”
I ask Coomes (who looks more like Barbie than a woman who has given birth to a child) if she eats three times a day. “Usually,” she replies. (The beauty queen even eats cheesecake.) She swears that the key to her enviable figure is moderation and daily shots of her maternal grandmother’s drink.
“Also, I get up early in the morning and I love to jog at our local walking park,” says Mrs. U.S. Globe. “When I get back home, Ill work my biceps and my triceps with a weight bar. You know the one that has a crinkle and bent in it?”
Mrs. United States 2001, Dana Lee Opsincs’ methods of squeezing into a swimsuit are slightly more conventional.
“I went on a high-protein, low-carb diet,” explains Opsincs. “I lost fifteen pounds,” she proudly proclaims. “Egg whites and eating something every two hours is my secret,” says Mrs. United States. “And working out at least three times a week. I also hired a trainer.”
As for her luxurious cascade of blonde, Opsincs confesses, “Oh! I hardly do anything at all.” As an afterthought she adds, “Well, I try not to blow dry it too long.”
By following the tips of beauty queens – egg whites, elixir or almonds and sunscreen advice – we may not all end up garnering tiaras. We may, however, win the accolades of our husbands. Most importantly, stop worrying long enough about our looks so we can pause and appreciate our individual inner beauty strengths.
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications. See more of Kim’s work at www.kimknode.com
By S.D. Craig
Okay, so they got to her. Kate Winslett, our Titanic dame of curvaceous beauty. The one who wasn’t afraid to show it all and flaunt her voluptuous ins and outs. They’ve done it.
Hollywood has put the fear of slim in her. If you ask me, it’s a crying shame. Funny thing is, I know men love her. They have flocked to her movies. Those winsome white-skinned curves have cast their spell upon many males since Titanic splashed us.
Rose had a baby.
Well, then. We all know that when a woman has a baby, she usually gains some extra weight. It takes about nine to twelve months to lose these unwanted pounds, according to my gynecologist of record back then. Apparently, Hollywood doesn’t want to hire a motherly Kate. Oh dear, dear me. And waiting isn’t an option for them.
Being a woman of curves, one that has fought diets and pounds for decades now, I resent that. I resent it big. The men of the universe appreciate a woman like Kate on the screen, one who just might not be crushed in a manly embrace. One who could stand up to nursing her babies, holding one in each strong arm, and look sexy as hell doing so.
I beg for the men of the world to unite. Vote for Kate and her wondrous figure. We don’t want a tiny Rose, we don’t want a paper-thin model type. We’ve seen what damage that can do to our society. What message is Hollywood sending out to the young women, the teenagers, the adolescents? Have a decent size twelve or fourteen shape and you’re out. Bye bye. Statistics have it that the average size in the USA is a size fourteen, in fact.
Our males want a real woman. Just ask Trisha Yearwood about her song, Real Live Woman. It’s an anthem that needs to be shared and heard around the world. Let’s get our paints and paint the words on the streets of Hollywood, on Sunset Strip. We’ll use fluorescent paint, won’t we? Make it stick. Make it permanent.
Let all our cries be heard. Women are sick of this obsession with thin. The media, press, magazines and advertisers are hurting our girls. do away with paranoia, anorexia and bulimia. Let our children grow without the fear of fat. The fear of their looks being the most important thing besides making money.
Who said that anyway? They should be whipped. I’ve got a hitching post and a crop ready to go, send them my way. We’re killing our kids, we’re destroying wonderful women’s egos and all for what? So that bones can show in their cleavage? So that they dress like boys in the movies?
Oh, bless her heart, wouldn’t Marilyn be mortified? And Kate, dear Kate. She once was quoted as saying in 1998, “I’m happy with the way I am. I’m not like American film stars.” But damn, double damn. These Americans have finally gotten to her. She succumbed to the hype. She wants to “get her baby weight off.” Most women do. But that Hollywood won’t hire Winslett due to that is preposterous. We’re going to see the acting, aren’t we? The talent? Oh, but maybe not.
During her last publicity tour for her recent movie, “Quills,” it was almost painful for me to hear Kate say, “It’s so insane and bloody boring (to diet). I despise myself for it and feel I’m letting a lot of people down… I constantly wave the flag of ‘Don’t go on diets because they are rubbish,’ but I’d like to get a bit of the baby weight off or I won’t work.”
What Hollywood now tells us by their default actions is that they want thin, they want toned and fit. Okay. Understood. But not agreed. For the more fit, toned and thin these actresses become, the less believable and real they are, their films are, and they and we’ve lost a lot in the bargain, along with their pounds. Haven’t we? Be honest here.
In a recent article I read, the man complained about this situation with Kate Winslett and Hollywood. He said that the less real the movies become (by using gaunt actresses), the more trouble it creates for the normal women, and for him. He can no longer convince a curvy date that she’s lovely, or even make her see that she doesn’t have to have perfection in her man either. It’s a double-edged loss, I’m afraid. A sad one.
If we worried about men as much as our diets (and figures), they might not have to go through living with us during the phases of starvation. It’s not a fun thing to co-exist with. And, well, our men like to have fun with us. They don’t like to see the struggles, the hurts, the painful way of getting slender. A woman becomes so focused on how she wants to look, she forgets to have fun today, as she is now. Oh so damned sad.
What I worry about almost as much as what it’s doing to society and our children, is that being slim doesn’t mean happiness. After all we’d go through to get there, are we truly happy? Can we buy that? Can we make that? No. And in the process, what else did we lose along the way?
Say no, Kate. We don’t want you without hips, without breasts, without a motherly glow. Didn’t anyone tell you how sexy that is?
A rose is but a rose…
SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.
By Donna Schwartz Mills
© 2001
It happens when you least expect it. You will be engaged in the most normal activity, like standing in line at the supermarket, and see someone you know in the next line. But in the split-second it takes for your inner computer to match the face with where it’s been seen, you realize that it was on TV and Horrors! You’ve been staring. You quickly look away and hope nobody noticed.
In Southern California, where such events can occur quite often, the natives know you must never acknowledge, point at or otherwise call attention to a celebrity in your midst. It wouldn’t be cool, and we want, above all else, to be cool.
This does not mean we don’t get a secret thrill when we’ve had a chance encounter with the rich and famous. We’re human, after all. We just keep quiet until we’re out of range. Then we trade the news of our sightings with our friends, like kids showing off their Pokemon cards.
Like one day last summer when I brought my daughter to her karate class on Ventura Boulevard.
‘I just saw Gwyneth Paltrow buying fish!’ announced one of the other moms, who had been buying aquarium supplies at a shop across the street.
‘I saw Madonna yesterday on La Cienega,’ countered another parent, who had been busy with a remodeling project. ‘She was buying upholstery fabric and was pregnant in a belly shirt.’
As I pulled out of the parking lot that night, I could have sworn Barbra Streisand was driving in the next lane, but the car was a Honda, so I could be mistaken.
A few weeks later, I had the pleasure of hosting my 11-year-old nephew for a week. He lives in Sacramento, 400 miles and a world away from La-La Land. He did not want to go to the beach, or Disneyland, or even Universal Studios. He wanted to see STARS.
Now, as common as celebrity sightings are in this town, you can’t just conjure them up at will. They’re a bit like earthquakes; sooner or later you know you’re going to have one, you just don’t know when.
But I aim to please, so each day of his visit, we went to a place where I’d seen someone famous in the past. Restaurants on Ventura parks in Studio City the mall in Sherman Oaks. We did not see anyone who looked vaguely familiar. Zip. Nada.
Our conversations went something like this:
‘There’s where we saw Sylvester Stallone playing golf.’
‘Who?’
‘We once saw Kirstie Alley and Parker Stevenson eating dinner at that table.’
‘Who?’
‘That’s where Wendy saw Gwyneth Paltrow buying fish.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘She won an Academy Award for Shakespeare in Love.’
‘That’s rated R. My mom won’t let me see that.’
My friends, who took a liking to Alex, tried to help. One, who works as a REALTOR in Studio City, took him on a drive through the neighborhood, pointing out the homes of Sarah Michelle Gellar and Melissa Joan Hart. But there was no sign of either Sarah or Michelle. Another friend, whose husband works on ‘The X Files,’ got us a pass onto the Fox Studios lot. Unfortunately, not much was happening that day, so we contented ourselves with strolling down the famous New York streets and admiring the paintings of classic Fox films that adorn some of the soundstages.
Alex went home without scoring one famous person sighting. His 12-year-old sister then took her turn to spend a few days with us.
Her first night, we ate dinner at a little neighborhood pub my husband and I go to often. In a far corner of the room, I heard a familiar voice. It was Rose Marie, from the old Dick Van Dyke show, still recognizable after 40 years, right down to the bow in her hair.
‘This will kill Alex,’ said his loving sister. ‘Let’s call him.’ ‘He won’t know who she is,’ I said. ‘Just knowing that WE saw someone famous is enough,’ she said.
Carly was right. His groan made her stay worthwhile to her.
But that wasn’t all. The next day, while lunching at California Pizza Kitchen, we saw another star of an old TV show. And the next day, we ran into another.
‘You’re killing me,’ said Alex.
It’s turned into a kind of game. Since that week, we’ve spied Harry Hamlin and Lisa Rinna, Frankie Muniz, Laura San Giacomo and David Duchovny. Each time, we call my nephew, who is looking forward to his next visit to L.A. If anyone famous is reading this, please drop me a line and tell me where you’ll be. I promise not to divulge your whereabouts (after all, that would not be cool). But if we can arrange a ‘chance encounter,’ you’ll make a young boy very happy. And afterwards, I’ll have something new to tell my friends
Donna Schwartz Mills was born in the same Hollywood hospital as Liz Taylor’s kids. That building is now a Scientology Center, which she claims is proof of her credentials as a true Angeleno. Donna is the Webmaster Mommy of SocalMoms.com, a new resource for moms in Southern California. She is also the work-at-home expert behind the ParentPreneur Club … and recently edited ‘Baby Tips for New Parents.
Living and Dancing in San Diego with the Champions
A visit to the home of Ron Montez
By Kim Knode
America is most familiar with Ron Montez as the co-host of the popular PBS series, Championship Ballroom Dancing. In the international DanceSport (ballroom dancing) community, the seven-time U.S. Latin champion is not just a handsome face on television. Montez is the back by popular demand expert at competitions and in dance schools due to decades of experience as a dancer, coach and adjudicator.
The retired competitor is frequently invited to fly away from his twenty-year San Diego sanctuary to judge DanceSport competitions and conduct classes in the rhythm dances (distinguished by a controlled wiggle called Cuban hip motion) such as salsa and cha-cha. For instance, this summer, Montez will pack his bags to join fellow ballroom celebrities at dance camps for adults. (The sell-out camps are a far cry from scout outings into the woods.) Spacious ballrooms sparkling with chandeliers in places seductive like Las Vegas to sedate like Provo, Utah see top talent gather to teach dance fans at premium prices.
In addition to the airfare and admission into the dance camps, DanceSport enthusiasts will often pay eighty-five dollars and up for a private one hour session with Montez. In addition to waltz workshops and such, students often get a chance to compete and perform, which adds up to adjudication dollars for experienced judges like Montez. However, as lucrative as the events outside of Southern California may be, San Diegos dancing man prefers to stay close to home.
So DanceSport competitors from all over follow their road maps and dreams of golden trophies to visit the wizard of Latin dancing in San Diego. (Traffic may increase with the approach of the possible entrance of DanceSport ballroom dancing – into the 2008 Olympics.) If the dancers are lucky enough to garner an appointment, the Champion Ballroom Academy on Fifth Avenue is where they generally meet Montez. (In 1995, the school was voted as the best dance studio in America. The owner, Mary Murphy is also a U.S. ballroom dance champion.)
After weeks of telephone tag, I am the fortunate one who is granted an early April sixty-minute interview at the champions home. Montez promises to squeeze me into his schedule on a lunch break away from his duties as judge at the Southwestern Regional Dance Championships held at the Holiday Inn San Diego-On The Bay.
Gazing out of the taxicab window en route from the San Diego Amtrak Station to the Montez residence, I see a myriad of streets all starting with El Camino (meaning the way in Spanish). Blooming hydrangeas, foxgloves and other botanical delights spring forth from meticulously manicured gardens. Houses stand proud and pretty with coats of freshly painted pastel pinks, yellows and blues. The sky is filled with puffy white clouds. Is this paradise? (I am knocked back to reality as the East African taxi driver tells me of his escape to San Diego for a better life.)
Arriving at the address on my post-it, I cut an amicable deal with the cabbie. (He agrees to wait an hour and take me back to the train station.) I knock on the door of the picture postcard house and am greeted by Karla Montez, a former Jazz dancer. Her form-fitting black top and pants accentuates her trim figure. She is a mother of three and still looks fit as a fiddle. (Perhaps it is the running after her four year old that burns the calories. Or maybe it is all cha-cha and mambo she does with her husband in their video series, Anyone Can Dance.)
She graciously accepts my arriving early for the interview. With a smile, Karla directs me to wait on one of her Easter egg blue couches. Heading into the kitchen, she says, Ron should be home pretty soon.
Framed family photos smile back at me from every corner. My eye wanders from a baby boy wearing only his daddys necktie to a tanned Montez family with leis around their necks looking like they are enjoying a Caribbean cruise.
I follow the trail of pictures of the Montez children at different ages to a placard studded with red hearts that reads, One hundred years from now, it will not matter what kind of car I drove Or how much money I had in my bank account The last line reads, But the world may be a little better because I was important in the life of a child.
I do not see any trophies or award certificates or even dancing photos of the champion. I only see that Ron and Karla Montez are champions of the family. My impression of stepping on to the set of The Donna Reed Show is enforced as Karla comes out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked blueberry muffins!
She sets her goodie laden tray on the (polished) coffee table and pries open the lid of a rose red tin. Karla says, These homemade chocolates were a gift to us. I cant eat them all! She starts to offer me one of the scrumptious morsels but spies a dark chocolate that has been sampled. Removing the confection from the mix, Karla laughs. Looks like a Ron!
I decline the chocolates but not Karlas blueberry feather light muffins. In between bites, I comment on the tranquility in her home. She grins and explains that her four-year old son is with a trusted sitter. Also, as a gift to her husband, she turns off the music before he comes home. Ron likes to listen to talk radio because he hears music all day. And Im hearing the kids talking all the time so Im always turning off the talk radio and turning on music.
What kind of music? I ask.
Karla chuckles and answers, With two kids in the house, I like anything that is calm! I usually listen to easy listening stations like 96.5.
The quiet is broken with a barking dog. Montez makes a grand entrance into his home. His stride is strong and sure. Montez carries an aura of a man who is comfortable in the spotlight.
Montez looks exactly like the man I see on PBS with raven black hair and eyes sitting with perfect posture opposite actresses like Sandy Duncan and Barbara Eden who effervesce with oos and ahs while competitors razzle-dazzle with flashy moves and rhinestone studded costumes. (Montez, in contrast to his female co-hosts, provides commentary in an even tone on the footwork and choreography of the dancers dueling for the title of champion.)
As Montez settles himself on the sofa, I ask him about his history. The dancer who was an undefeated Latin dance champion for seven years explains, When I finished high school, I was kind of up in the air. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. My sister had the bright idea of getting me involved in some kind of ballroom dance teacher training course. My sister and brother-in-law were Arthur Murray instructors in Arizona.
Cracking a small smile, he continues, So I said OK. I didn’t have anything better to do at the moment.
But when Montez started the training with his first teacher, Nancy Elliott, he felt a surge of enthusiasm. Nancy presented ballroom dancing to me in such a way that it was very appealing. She presented the masculine and feminine roles in a way that were right and well balanced to me.
I ask him to translate his statement. Well the man’s role – what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to look like, the way he was supposed to conduct himself, the way he was supposed to move versus the female. You had a secure position of what you were supposed to do either sex.
Montez confesses that, Of course, in the beginning I didn’t know anything about teaching – a little bit about dancing maybe. But I loved dancing. And I got hooked!
And Arthur Murray students got hooked on Montezs magic touch in the classroom. He acknowledges that, I was teaching all the time The lessons just sold themselves!
After years of playing dance professor, however, he found himself burnt out. Montez says that, I hadn’t been receiving a lot information. I was hungry for any kind of information – even dance information. So he seized an opportunity to attend Brigham Young University. For a while it gave me a chance to soak up something, he says.
Book learning was not the only thing Montez absorbed at BYU. I did my first competition in 1972 in ballroom while I attended Brigham Young. Like a scientist reciting the results of an experiment, he recalls, It was my first competition. And I got a taste of competition and the thrilling aspect of it. I thought that it was motivating and a lot fun.
How did he place? I won the Rising Star Division and was like fourth or fifth in the Professional Division. I liked being successful, being able to express myself and have people appreciate it.
His joy carried him into seven continuous United States Latin Champion titles from 1979 through 1985. He retired in 1986 from competition dancing. Nearly a decade later he began a new challenge when he exchanged marriage vows with Karla.
Montez declares that, Family is the biggest challenge of all. I mean dancing is attainable if you just do it! With conviction he continues, But you are not confronted with the challenge and the problems. You also dont get the fulfillment of home and family life.
As a father of three, he still marvels at, My family interacting with one another and learning and growing and becoming more responsible – that development is such an amazing thing.
As parents and as dance professionals, I ask how the couple feels about DanceSport training and ballroom dancing in the Olympics.
Karla replies with conviction. There are not enough ballroom dance workshops especially in San Diego. She adds, Ashley (her teenage daughter from a former marriage) used to compete. Ron choreographed her (award-winning) Latin routines. But her partner moved away to Boston. Its hard to find young boys who dance. (Ashley is now a member of a cheerleading competition team.)
Besides the lack of an infrastructure of ballroom schools for children in America, Montez says, there is the perception problem. Most Olympic officials think ballroom dancing is a social thing for nightclubs – nothing to do with athletics.
He adds that, I would welcome ballroom dancing as an Olympic sport. Young people would flock to dancing. Montez maintains, Ballroom dancing is healthy you learn cooperation and you get exercise. You concentrate on the music and you work with another person on certain technical aspects together.
Montez looks at his wife and she nods her head in agreement. He continues, You participate with a person of the opposite sex with music as your medium. Montez adds that ballroom dancing allows for a natural development of a relationship over time. Interaction is not forced and can fully develop as dance instruction takes the foreground.
The promulgation and entry of DanceSport into the Olympics, however, does not keep the former champion awake at nights. Uppermost in the mind of Montez is his family. Dancing is an instrument I use to provide for my family. Family is my focus now.
Besides spending time with his family, what are the former Latin champions favorite pastimes? Montez smiles. Well, I enjoy reading biographical books. Right now, I am reading everything I can about the life of Jesus Christ on this earth and his death.
Anything else you like to do? I ask.
Karla mimes a man sprawled out on the sofa. Montez admits that, Yes. I like to watch football.
It is reassuring to know that the former champion who moves like a Greek god on the dance floor partakes in the mortal pleasures of a San Diego Chargers game! And the Chargers may not come close to championship trophies this season!
However, as I walk away from my interview with Ron and Karla Montez and I hear the taxi honk his horn; a muse whispers in my ear. After climbing to the top of Mount Olympus, you get a view of the bigger picture.
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.
By Kim Knode
Mrs. California International 2000, Gail Arias, one of the final ten in the Mrs. U.S. International Pageant is ready to hold court in her living room. She sits with perfect posture on the edge of her easy chair. Her thick dark hair minus a tiara is combed to silky smoothness. Not a stray hair or split end is in sight. Whats her secret? “Ive got virgin hair. Ive never dyed it.”
The red polish on her fingers reveals not a single chip. Manicured hands rest on top of long muscular legs, which are crossed in lady like fashion. I scan her resume and ask about her athletic prowess. The pageant queen speaks in even tones but her blue eyes betray a hint of rebellion. “I was a tomboy for a long time. In junior high, I beat all the boys and girls in Track.”
Jamie Arias, her husband laughs, “That’s why it took me ten years to catch her!” In marriage, evidently he expresses the same ardent dedication to his wife as he did in the chase. Mrs. U.S. International Pageant judges chose him for the honored title of, “Most Devoted Husband.”
At age thirteen, pageants were the farthest thing from the current Mrs. Californias thoughts. As an adolescent she longed to compete in the Olympics and receive a subscription to Prevention Magazine. She got her subscription. At about the same time, the precocious girl discovered dancing. What about her Olympian dream? “My parents finally convinced me that it was a hard life.”
And dancing? “Well, I looked at what dance champions were getting paid. So I chose aerobics as my vocation and dancing as my avocation.” As a young adult, in addition to owning and operating an aerobics studio, the athlete created and promoted her own line of vitamins and protein powder. “I have a practical mind, a very practical mind,” declares Mrs. California International.
Her aerobic students actually pushed her into the professional world of dance. Mothers of Miss Teenage USA and Miss Junior Olympics singled out Gail Knowlton (later Gail Arias) as the right person to choreograph routines and coach their children. She designed a winning ice skating dance routine for Miss Junior Olympics. Miss Teenage USA took first place with her floor exercise and artistic gymnastics. The reigning Mrs. California International reflects on her experiences with the girls and says, “It was more than choreographing the dance routine. I think the extra time I took to go over make-up, hair and wardrobe added extra touches of confidence.”
Succeeding in all her endeavors, including marriage, seems to be as easy as breathing in and out for Gail Arias. Her resume foxtrots through accomplishments ranging from winning Crystal Light Aerobic Championships to dancing Tango with her husband for an American Airlines ad to performing with the Beach Boys at the Shrine Auditorium.
As part of a husband and wife dance team, the pageant blue blood continues to accumulate trophies. The lady of the house leads me to the twosomes private dance studio. The beauty queen is dressed in black jeans. But the 5’8″ Gail Arias almost glides when she walks. She gives the illusion of still showing off the sequined gold evening gown to the judges of Mrs. International. Her hand majestically waves across the couples collection of first place trophies, which stand like chorus members in uniforms on the shelves of their exclusive practice area. Her newest additions include her Mrs. Thousand Oaks statuette and her three-foot Mrs. California International trophy.
Ten years ago, Gail Arias spoke to her coach of her desire to collaborate and choreograph routines within the confines of a platonic relationship. “I was running a very successful business and I had a boyfriend.” The coach made no promises.
Mrs. California International recalls that first meeting with Jamie Arias by saying, “Oh my God, oh my God! He was tall, dark and handsome and he was a great dancer! There was just too much chemistry!” She told her coach to call Jamie Arias and excuse her from the partnership. According to the couple, the message was never delivered.
Dancing in Duran Duran videos, illustrating Tai Chi with Morgan Fairchild and winning the Lambada championships along with running her high-end Pasadena work-out studio were just a few of the activities which kept Gail Knowlton from seeing the scintillating Jamie Arias on the dance floor on a regular basis.
Inevitably, the dance world brought them into body contact with a few dances here and there. At one sticky point, the future beauty queen was asked by her date to dance with his teacher. Remembering the incident. Gail laughs, “My boyfriend said, Youre so good. I want to see you dance with my teacher. Who is your teacher I asked? My boyfriend replied, Jamie Arias.”
A pivotal point for the couple was at the U.S. Open Swing Championships. One of the professional photographers admonished the future pageant queen for choosing an inappropriate dance partner. Revealing her pearly whites, the regal lady lets a vulnerable little girl emerge for an instant. She softly recalls, “He said, You should be dancing with that man.” The royalty puts the bass back in her voice and confidently continues the story. “He pointed way across the room. I said, you mean Jamie Arias?” The photographer asked her to dance with Arias as a favor to him. She asserts, “I never ask men to dance.”
Fortunately, Jamie Arias says, “I saw that look in her eye.” The devoted husband displays a big grin and states, “She had a look I hadnt seen before.” The photographer saw the couple dance.
Dances later, telephone numbers were exchanged. Jamie Arias called his bride-to-be on Mothers Day. Mrs. Arias explains, “Every two years my birthday falls on Mothers Day. I was feeling sad about my last boyfriend.”
Her husband interjects, “I didnt even know it was her birthday! I was just thinking about her, as usual, and I decided to call.”
Three weeks later Jamie and Gail Arias were married. Gail smiles lovingly at her partner, “I just knew he was the right one.” Her heart hijacked her practical mind when Jamie Arias got down on one knee and proposed to her in the middle of a Good Earth Restaurant salad. They eloped to Las Vegas. Like church bells, they chime in harmony, “We didnt tell anyone.” Jamie Arias chose the wedding date of July fourth. The day represented his ability to love freely for the first time in his life.
Married for almost a decade, the twosome still look like newlyweds. Not long after the interview is underway, Gail Arias moves to the more comfortable seat of her husbands lap. She boasts of the telephone calls that come from Hollywood producers begging him to choreograph dance routines and salsa with divas like Nia Peeples.
I congratulate him on his recent inauguration into the Swing Hall of Fame? He replies with a simple yes. But ask him about Mrs. California International 2000 and a big boyish burst of energy erupts with a fountain of praises for his wife and her work with Kids at Heart. The pageant queen explains that the program encourages and educates children from low-income families. She smiles and says, “Choosing Kids at Heart as my platform was natural for me. Ive been mentoring all my life. From childhood, when somebody needed advice they’d come to me, about everything! My parents used to tease me that I should charge. ”
So what are her words of wisdom for mothers of daughters who want to enter pageants and dance competitions? “I would advise moms to enforce the idea that competitions are to be used as a stepping stone, to learn new skills and to enhance self-esteem. Mothers need to keep their antenna out to see if their daughters are displaying negative behavior or poor sportsmanship If the girls are not having fun in competitions, move on to something else!”
As for advice on food and nutrition, “Ive never had a weight problem. Ive been the same weight since I was eighteen. But I do eat as close as I can to Gods table, mostly fruits and vegetables.”
Is she ever naughty? Her husband offers, “She likes ice cream.” He quickly adds, “But we rarely eat that kind of stuff.”
Mrs. Arias nods. “I dont use food to comfort myself. But that doesnt mean I wont take a piece of cake at a birthday party.” Protocol and protecting the feelings of the hostess is important to her. “My intention is always to make people feel good about themselves.”
With so much love between them, when are they going to celebrate birthdays for their own children? The beauty queen energetically retorts, “Actually were working on it right now. Weve just been so busy. And Jamie and I have really felt so fulfilled with each other.”
I ask what her secrets are to keeping a decade of marriage alive. Without hesitation, Mrs. California International 2000 replies, ” Respect, we respect each other. And we practice forgiveness.” They also take midnight walks and go star gazing. “We really live in the moment.”
Perhaps that is the key to living like royalty.
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.
See more of Kim’s work at www.kimknode.com
By Kim Knode
Los Angeles, July 2000
Published August 2000
In preparation for my interview with Sally Kirkland, I asked Ron Howard; the director of her recent film, EDtv, to describe the Academy Award nominated actress. Howard observed that, “Sally marches to the beat of her own drummer. There are no half way measures with her.” Howard, the filmmaker famous for such heartfelt films like Splash, Cocoon and Apollo 13, quickly added, “Sally’s heart is in the right place.”
When I told Sally’s EDtv screen husband, Martin Landau about Howard’s comment, he agreed and added, “Sally Kirkland has a heart so big that I’m amazed it fits into her chest. She’s motivated by good things. ” Landau should know, since the Oscar winning actor has starred in three films with Sally. “Her work is larger than life, but she brings a reality into each role. Sally always had a freedom to be naked emotionally.”
As I arrive for our interview at Sally’s hideaway bungalow in Malibu, I see the actress coming up the beach toward me, toweling off the salt water from her swim. Statuesque five foot nine Sally looks striking in a 1950s suit with broad navy and white stripes. She greets me with a warm smile, then brushes strands of blond hair away with the back of her hand and invites me in out of the wind.
While I set up my tape recorder, Sally cuts and nibbles an orange for a fruit salad. She tells me to make myself comfortable and I look around the small living room. On a shelf stuffed with books, I notice titles like, Leonard Maltin’s Movie and Video Guide and Autobiography of a Yogi. I’m reminded of Sally’s web site, where I learned that Paramahansa Yogananda’s book launched the performer’s quest for spiritual perfection and understanding. As a student of and instructor for Hatha yoga master, Swami Satchidananda, Sally has entered extended periods of silence, celibacy and strict diets.
I compliment Sally on the healthy lunch she is preparing. She looks up from her fruit salad and says that her favorite meal is a dish of broccoli, yams and brown rice. But she confesses, “If I’m being a bad girl, I’ll go have flan – Peau de Creme at the Cafe Boheme. And I’ll have Pink Dot deliver cheesecake.” The performer leans in close, almost kissing my microphone to say, “You listeners out there, I’m very sick the next day. Basically, I can’t handle sugar and I don’t drink – my parents died of drinking.”
While Sally gathers up pillows to comfortably position herself in front of my microphone, I notice Polaroids scotch-taped on the wall showing the actress with stars like Jenna Elfman, Woody Harrelson, Matthew McCounaughey and others at a recent EDtv cast and crew party. Out of place among all the glamour, a plaque reads, “Memories are the souvenirs our hearts collect through the years.”
I begin the interview by asking about the fact that she is Kirkland junior to her mother, Sally Kirkland senior. Sally laughs, “The Sally junior was just a frustration when in that moment they were looking for a name, and they couldn’t come up with one. Personally, I think she named me because of her byline. She was in a man’s world as a woman with a byline. She was at Vogue for ten years. And the first woman to ever be made a Senior Editor of Life by Henry Luce. She was handing me the legacy — you too have the opportunity to be a career woman. Now if I had choice, I would have said, hey let’s give me another name!”
Did her dad have any say? “My father was a blue blood from mainline Philadelphia. (Her great grandfather was the mayor for thirty-seven years.) But my father broke tradition by marrying a working woman and allowing the woman to wear the pants…”
A resigned smile clouds her suntanned face. “It was terrifying to sit and eat breakfast because my mother was always surrounded with women like Veruschka and Jean Shrimpton from England. My mother had bones like Calista Flockhart. All my childhood she was telling me I was too heavy and my father telling me, ‘Don’t listen to her. She’s too thin.’”
Did young Sally have ambitions for an office on Madison Avenue like mother? “I knew I wasn’t going to be a fashion editor because she’d already done that with my name. I tried to be a designer and Christian Dior helped me with that. He scribbled, ‘Keep it up, little Sally – you’re good’ on my different dress designs.”
“My mainline Philadelphia grandfather didn’t approve of acting school. So it was decided that I could go to art school. I could be a painter but I couldn’t be an actor.”
The patrician family saw The Art Students League in Manhattan as the better choice for a young lady. At seventeen, Sally Kirkland exhibited her paintings in the Village. She chuckles, “I couldn’t make any money at it to speak of so I was a hat check girl at The Bitter End and a waitress at Figaro’s.”
“And then I was a go-go dancer at the Peppermint Lounge. I think the Mafia owned the Peppermint Lounge. They would come in and throw money at my feet. And you would see their guns in their holsters. That was pretty exciting, you know, for an uptown debutante to go from prep school to twisting in front of these cowboys – these gangsters.” She laughs and adds, “In fact, the first movie I ever did was Hey Let’s Twist with Joey Dee and the Starlighters.”
When did Sally rebel against the family’s admonitions about acting? “I was seventeen. I started at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. The next year I studied with Uta Hagen (the German acting coach whose famous students include Geraldine Page, Jason Robards and Jack Lemmon.)
Were there other teachers who encouraged Sally as a young girl? “I was lucky to have David O. Selznick as a mentor when I was a teenager. He said to me – and I hope this doesn’t sound like an ego statement: ‘You remind me of Ingrid Bergman, Katherine Hepburn and Bette Davis because you’re so strong. You’re going to scare a lot of men. You have to be patient and wait until you’re middle-aged. Then they will allow you to be a star as a strong middle aged woman. But they won’t allow you to be a strong five foot nine ingenue.’ ” Sally’s voice rises with passion, “Those were his words. And I thought, oh God please don’t project that on to me ’cause I’d like to work and I’m eighteen!”
Sally smiles with satisfaction. “I was off-Broadway like almost immediately. My first paid job was Helena in A Midsummer’s Night Dream for Joseph Papp. He was the producer of the New York Shakespeare Festival. At the Circle-In-The Square Theatre, I played Jackie Kennedy in Fitz and Biscuit with Sam Waterston. Jackie came to Fitz and loved it. She had tears in her eyes. My first starring role off-Broadway was in a play called The Love Nest with James Earl Jones. I also starred with him in Best of the Best.”
I question her about her time at one of the most prestigious acting schools in the world, The Actors Studio. “By the time I was eighteen, I was trying to get into the Actors Studio. Lee Strasberg (the founder) warned me, ‘I think you have to be older to do this kind of work because it is so intense.” Sally takes a dramatic pause. “I threatened to kill myself if he wouldn’t let me in.”
Apparently the threat worked. “Dustin Hoffman got in the same year I got in and Al Pacino was also in my class. I ended up bringing Bobby De Niro to Shelley Winters and the Actors Studio because he was formerly dating my roommate. He took me to see Brian De Palma’s student film, Greetings that he starred in. I wanted someone to spar with so I encouraged our friendship in 1967 and we ended up working together for a long time. Bob was incredibly shy and sensitive and sort of insecure about social graces. He told me I made it easier for him to be out in the social world. We became very close friends”
Does Sally stay in touch with De Niro? “Well we got to have a reunion when I was hosting the Diversity Awards two years ago and he was presenting an award to Joe Pesci. Bob acknowledged the work I was doing. I’m a presenter or the host every year. Diversity gives awards to actors, directors, and writers who are of ethnic or diverse background”
Winning the Diversity Pinnacle Award this year was exhilarating for the actress. The Multicultural Motion Picture Association honored Sally for her mentoring efforts as well as her choice of roles, which have gone beyond the median range of most Hollywood actors.
I mention that diversity has been the name of the game in Sally’s career. She’s played everything from a character in Oliver Stone’s JFK to The Women Who Loved Elvis with Roseanne. The actress declares, “The most diverse thing I ever did was Heat Wave with James Earl Jones and Cicely Tyson. I was the only white woman in an all black cast.” But when all is said and done, Sally is most proud of her Oscar nominated portrayal of the aging Czechoslovakian actress, Anna.
Her eyes dance with excitement as she explains, “At the time of the Oscar announcements, I was shooting High Stakes with Kathy Bates. I went up to change wardrobe and heard Shirley MacLaine announce the Best Actress nomination on the TV and I couldn’t stop screaming. I went into ecstasy”
I remark on the serendipity of the Foreign Press presenting Sally with a Golden Globe for playing Anna, a Czech immigrant. Have journalists from abroad been kinder than American reporters? “Yeah. They’ve been constantly supportive of me. But I’d like to add that the likes of Sheila Benson and Kevin Thomas of the Los Angeles Times have been supportive too… The Foreign Press did give me a Golden Globe nomination for The Haunted – a true story about a woman who went through four years of paranormal experiences in Pennsylvania”
“I think I’m more European in personality. My attitude is always one of sensuality, aggressive enthusiasm and kind of outrageousness in my expression. I suppose if I wanted to be the girl next door, I could have. I think America is a little too confused by someone who appears to be sexual and spiritual at the same time”
There are exceptions. Sally states, “Ron Howard is not threatened at all by me.” I ask her about her experiences working on the set of EDtv. “Just great! And Ron Howard is the saint of all directors!”
And how was it playing the mother of heartthrob Matthew McCounaughey? “Awesome. When I saw him in A Time To Kill, I said to myself, I’m going to play his mother! You know how you can get a hit of something?”
Sally’s psychic powers were seen from January 1998 to June 1999 in the reoccurring role of Tracey in Days of Our Lives. “I loved playing Tracey because she’s an environmentalist. She uses solar and wind power. She’s very into truth.”
She adds, “Now, I’m reoccurring on Felicity as her art professor, Annie Sherman. I’ve also been shooting a movie, Swimming Lessons for Lifetime Television playing Gail O’Grady’s mother. Tomorrow I’m flying to Toronto to start shooting Wish You Were Dead (a feature film) with Mary Steenbergen”
How does Sally keep bringing truth and reality to the disparate characters she plays?
“Mostly listening to John-Roger spiritual seminar tapes – he’s the founder of MSIA – the Movement of Spiritual Inner Awareness. And I listen to Bob Dylan music on my Walkman. Sally gestures toward a pile of literature brought from the city house to her ocean getaway. On top is a pink paperback by John-Roger entitled Forgiveness: The Key to the Kingdom”
“I believe in such a thing as a need for a spiritual master and I love the ecumenical path of MSIA. The path is one of soul transcendence. It’s a path that says out of God comes all creation. And it’s a path that says not one soul is lost. It’s a path that talks about taking care of yourself so you can take care of others. Keeping the temple pure and clean has been important for me.” The actress laughs. I ask why. She reminds me, “Just before you came, I was swimming. And before that I was doing my yoga”
The John Roger tapes and Dylan recordings are her ritual preparation for a scene. “They’re both men that I love. If I’m not listening to them on tape, I’m remembering moments with them, when they have inspired me to be more authentically me. You know – sensory work”
The teacher in Sally comes out as she describes sensory work. “It’s from Lee Strasberg – method acting – you bring yourself to a place where you do an emotional recall. Or you smell what you smelled, see what you saw, hear what you heard, feel what you felt…Streisand, who hired me three times – thank you Barbara – wanted to learn how to cry on cue ’cause she had some singing scenes to her father coming up in Yentl. So I took her through the exercises with her father”
My eyes wander to her collection of music tapes, I catch sight of Dylan’s, Down in the Groove, I once again ask about her relationship with the musician. She hesitates. I suspect that she wants to keep in Dylan’s good graces by not revealing too much. Sally sighs. “I came to meet Bob through a guy named Fred Hellerman who was one of the Weavers – Pete Seeger and the Weavers. I met Bob backstage when he was performing at Carnegie Hall with Joan Baez. We re-met in 1975 and we’ve been close friends ever since.” Then the actress clams up. She won’t reveal anything else.
Does Sally desire marriage? She confesses, “Having been married and divorced twice I do hope to get married again. We’ll see what God has in store.” What kind of man? “Someone pretty powerful and isn’t going to be, um, what’s the word? Yeah, intimidated.” Like John-Roger and Bob Dylan? Sally gives me a look as if to communicate this is my last sentence about Dylan. “I will say this John-Roger and Bob Dylan have been the loves of my life. John-Roger continues to inspire me to dedicate my life to service and humanity. And I learned from Bob, the importance of getting rid of segregation and the importance of, “knock, knock, knocking on Heaven’s door. The part of me that is an activist is because of him. I’ve loved him forever”
Sally’s activism has recently found its expression in The Kirkland Institute for Implant Survival Syndrome. KIISS provides support and research for women dealing with breast implant complications. Problems with her own implants led Sally to have them removed in 1998. “Next to my self-imposed hell through drugs in 1966 – I’m proud to say I’ve been clean since 1975 – one of the severest depressions I encountered was when I thought I had tried everything to get rid of the crippling pain caused by the implants. From 1989 to 1995, I had multiple surgeries related to silicon ruptures. In 1995, I had the silicon taken out and saline put in.” However due to complications with saline, the celebrity had another string of surgeries. As if reliving the moment of relief, Sally says, “Finally, in August 1998 when finally all the implants were out, I felt one hundred percent healthy”
Days after her breast reduction, Sally went on The Howard Stern Show. “I know millions of people listen to him and so I got out key points, like Dow Corning in the sixties had been developing the silicon as a potential cockroach insecticide and riot patrol fluid.” The actress is grateful too for the controversial TV host’s invite to his show. “Thanks to Howard, my web site immediately received twenty-two thousand hits. And I’ve been able to help women and their concerned husbands ever since. Yeah Howard!”
What does Sally think about other stars going under the knife? “I would say be careful. I ‘ve had my day in court with plastic surgery. I just saw Cher’s album cover. She looks sensational. If it works for Cher, it works for her…There are so many terrific people that have hit fifty. I mean look at the way Raquel looks”
How does Sally hold her own in youth conscious Hollywood? “I go to the YMCA, I swim and I do Hatha yoga. And I keep my eyes on the vegetables. And meditation every day since 1969 has reminded me the value of keeping my heart open and doing service in the world.”
The sky outside is painted in pink and dark blue twilight colors. I take my cue from nature and my tape recorder, which tell me that hours of dialogue have flown by. As I pack up to leave; I remember seeing on Sally’s web page a list of service projects Sally has participated in such as feeding the homeless and care-taking AIDS patients. I mention that the list is almost as long as her film credits. She adds that, “I’m also excited about the fact that Governor Gray Davis appointed me to the Board of the California Alliance for the Arts Education”
“My life is not about acting. It’s about expressing my vision of life. No matter what, everyone deserves a fair shot”
Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications. See more of Kim’s work at www.kimknode.com
Reporter Kevin Smith wrote this article in September 1998 when Evel Knievel was 59. Although it was a scoop at the time, the world had all but forgotten Evel Knievel, a man who once commanded headlines and airtime in many countries of the world.
By Kevin Smith
Published in the-vu in August 2000
Evel Knievel (c) Splash News
Evel Knievel has stared at death over the handlebars of his bike hundreds of times. As the daredevil stuntman in white leather, he soared through the air and come crashing down as the world watched and winced. But this time there is nothing he can do to steer away from inevitable death. Not extra throttle, no last-minute swerve. Evel Knievel, the last of the gladiators, is dying.
Not the death everyone expected. Not a bone shattering crash at some glamorous location jumping over a shark tank, or double-decker buses or a long line of limousines. Evel’s life is being slowly taken away by liver disease, and unless he can get a transplant, he will not survive. “It is a bitch,” Evel said. “I am not scared of it, nothing much scares me. But I just don’t want to die.”
Evel became a hero to the world not just because of his jumping skill, or the spectacular falls but for his gutsy determination, the determination that had him fall, break his body into several pieces, then dust himself off and do it all over again. Fans marveled at how he survived those falls, and now it appears he didn’t.
Blood tainted with hepatitis C was used during one of the 14 surgeries that pieced him back together. Evel is not sure which one. But it doesn’t matter now. “Truth is, if I don’t get a new liver, I am going to die. Even with a new one, there is no guarantee.. My body may reject it. And if it does work, it is just buying me some more time. Maybe seven years.
Hepatitis C is worse than AIDS. There is no cure. If I do get a liver the disease will start attacking the new one as soon as it is put in. It is a damn rattlesnake this thing.”
Now Evel carries a pager which will alert him when a liver is found. But he doesn’t kid himself about his chances. He is just one of 10,000 anxiously waiting, and 25 percent of those die before a donor is found. “It is not first come first served. The livers are given out to the sickest. At one point I was what they call a B2, which is real sick. When my health improved a bit my doctor told me to go and visit my grandkids while I still had the chance.”
He is still on that tear jerking tour of America, spending quality time with his four children and seven grandchildren. “I don’t know how long I got left,” Evel said. “I thought I was a gonner a couple of times already.” Twice doctors have pulled him back from the brink. A staphylococcal infection, related to the degenerating liver, has caused massive hemorrhages in his neck.
“I thought I was going to bleed to death. The veins in my throat literally exploded. That was five years ago when they discovered the real problem was my liver. That was when they told me to quit drinking. “But you know, I am a stubborn man. I have been a big shot all my life. I thought I knew it all. So I continued to drink. I have punished my liver I can tell you, and that just helps hepatitis C even more.”
That punishment included years of pain killers washed down with the Evel cocktail, the Montana Mary. A lethal mix of beer, tomato juice and Wild Turkey whisky. In his heyday Evel did little to dispel rumors that the secret ingredient was a couple of drops of sump oil.
“I haven’t had a drink in years. I drink non-alcoholic beer now. I can’t risk a beer and I don’t want one. “This disease is a bitch. Some days, I just can’t get out of bed. It saps your energy. Some days are good, some are bad.”
There were the days when it was Evel who was bad. A former safecracker, bank robber and miner, Evel never shied from a challenge. The years of hard living and tough knocks have taken their toll on the 59-year-old. His cocky swagger has been replaced by a slow limp. His knuckles are misshapen and swollen. His movements are jerky and awkward.
“There are a lot of myths about my injuries. They say I have broken every bone in my body. Not true.. But I have broken 35 bones. I had surgery fourteen times to pin and plate. I shattered my pelvis. I forget all of the things that have broke.”
And his luck hasn’t got any better. Last year he took a tumble on the golf course and broke his hip. And just last month he slipped getting out of a Jacuzzi and cracked a rib. The cracks, the breaks, all add to his arthritis aches and pains. But never one to miss a business opportunity, Knievel now advertises an arthritis pain killer on national television in America. That is just one of the Knievel endorsements. He has a new toy line coming out in time for Christmas (1998). Evel Knievel signature motorbikes which retails at $25,000 a time, t-shirts, signed photographs, kid’s bikes. The list goes on. Today (1998) Knievel is even more bankable just for his presence.
“They don’t ask me to jump. I just turn up, smile, pose for the cameras and they give me money. It is quite a career,” he says. “In the old days they, the promoters, wanted more and more from me. They wanted me to jump or spill my blood and break my bones. Every time they wanted me to jump further, and further, and further. Hell, they thought my bike had wings.”
Knievel’s feet are planted firmly on the ground the days. His last jump was in 1981. And he does miss the thrill. “People said I wasn’t scared before a jump. That is bullshit. I was scared. I’d have a shot of Wild turkey whisky before each jump to calm myself. “I’d get this knot in my stomach and this lump in my throat everytime. And I love that feeling. “People who go around wearing ‘No Fear’ t-shirts now are full of shit. Fear is high octane fuel for success. You have got to know how to handle it, how to harness it. If you risk your life you have got to have fear.”
Evel has been forced to find new ways of getting his adrenaline rush now that his is a frail old man before his time. He still rides his bike for enjoyment, and claims he can easily pull a wheelie if he needed to. But it hardly gets his heart pounding let alone start the knot in the stomach. Today, it is the pressure of high stakes gambling that keeps him going.
“The guy who built Caesar’s Palace once told me I was the biggest gambler Vegas had ever seen because I didn’t gamble with money. I gambled with my life,” he said. But now he gambles with money. Sauntering into the sports book gambling room of Bally’s casino in Las Vegas, the betting shop teller knows Evel well. He gets a respectful nod from all of the regulars sitting watching the giant screens relaying live pictures of baseball and American football.
“I won $13,000 in here last night,” he says as he lays another $1,300 on the slim chance that the L.A. Dodgers will break their losing streak that night. “I like to gamble and I am good, but I am no maniac. If I had just a dollar left, I would bet 50 cents. But not the whole dollar. that kind of gambling is for sniveling failures. I’d never want to have to snivel to someone because I couldn’t pay them. I won $100,000 on a game of golf once. I was playing Tyson Leonard at the Bay Tree golf course at Myrtle Beach. I eagled the first hole, which surprised both of us. I have only ever had a couple of eagles in my life. Then I didn’t drop another shot over par for the rest of the game. He paid up.” So Evel is still able to rise to the occasion.
Golf is his new passion and he attacks it with the same vigor that he used to reserve for racing up plywood ramps. It was on the golf course that he met his current girlfriend Krystal Kennedy, 29 (in 1998). Evel’s long suffering wife Linda stood by him during the endless affairs and high jinx of his life. But now they live separate lives. “She was bitching too much, and I can’t live with that,” Evel explained. “You know, I wasn’t put on this earth to sit and listen to bitching all the time. I was put here to have fun. “A woman is for loving and caring for. Who said they have to bitch? I have got no time for all that.”
Evel’s stance on women has been tainted by years of having them fawn all over him. He estimates he has slept with 2,000 of them and says he has met only a few who could resist him. “I had about two a week,” he said without a hint of exaggeration. “My record was eight in one 24-hour period. “It got to be a real problem. I had to see a psychiatrist. I asked him why it was that women kept throwing themselves at me and he explained it like this. He said, ‘look, to start with you are not a bad looking guy. Secondly, your identity is danger, women, their chemistry, are attracted to danger. Then you are Evel by name, but not by nature, so you won’t harm them. Women unhappy at home looking for an affair are just drawn to you like a magnet. You stick out lick a sore thumb. “I guess he was right. I am not bragging. It was true. I had to have security guards keep women from my hotel room.”
Even today, he still holds the same attraction to women. In 1986 Evel’s wicked ways made headlines again. After a night of drinking, Evel led an amorous woman back to his hotel room. “I had no idea she was the woman of the guy I had been drinking with,” Evel said. Furious, Evel’s drinking buddy persuaded the hotel’s front desk to give him a key to the room where Evel was having his evil way with his lady. “He opened the door, punched me in the nose and broke it. I sued the hotel for giving him the key and they had to pay me $33,000.” Such tales just add to the lore of Evel.
Now Evel has found happiness in the arms of 29-year-old Krystal, a former golfer for Florida state university. “Boy, she is a good golfer. She is a great girl.” The age difference doesn’t appear to bother either of them. “I don’t see what the fuss is about,” Evel says when asked about it. “I have had young women, I have had old women. So what?”
Even now, Evel has a flippant view of women, probably because he has found them so plentiful over the years. “You know, women are the root of all evil. And I know, I am Evel. “Look at Adam and eve. It wasn’t Adam who picked up the apple, was it? Ghengis Khan, brought down by a woman. “That ain’t going to happen to me. Maybe me and Krystal won’t be together forever. You know, women seem to forget who it is who buys the diamonds.
“Women are like buses. Good to ride on for 15 minutes. But they forget that if you get off, there will be another one along in 15 minutes. And another one, and another one.”
For a man supposedly at death’s door, Evel appears to be making a lot of long term plans. He hasn’t given up on life yet. He is collaborating with Hollywood hunk Matthew McConaughey on the film “Pure Evil.”. Then there is the Daredevil Cafe, a sort of Hard Rock Cafe for bike riders, which should become a reality in Las Vegas next year.
Strolling around Vegas, a town which clearly suits him, he still acts like he is in his heyday. He remembers each jump and can recall every minute detail. The names of his support team, the speed at which hit the ramp.
What he can’t remember is what he has to do the rest of the day. “I have Alzheimer’s too,” he said as he explained a series of sticky notes stuck to the dashboard of his truck. “If I don’t have these I forget everything.” But his mind easily recalls the glory days of Vegas when money came easily and the women were even easier.
“I knew Elvis. I knew Frank Sinatra, I used to drink with Lee Marvin,” he said. “Funny. If you had been asked back then to place your money on who would still be alive today, it wouldn’t be the stuntman you put your money on, would it? You wouldn’t have put you money on me.”
But unlike Elvis, Evel isn’t as recognizable today. The name still commands respect, but after being out of the headlines for 20 years, his face no longer is recognizable. Everyone remembers the devil-may-care young man straddling his bike, not a shuffling graying old man.
“Hi, I’m Evel Knievel,” he says in his slow drawl as he hands the keys of his oversized four-wheel drive to the valet parker. From the expression on the valet parker’s face you can tell he is impressed, but he still stares at Evel’s face for some kind of confirmation that it really is him. Walking through he casino, few realize that the man with the gaudy gold jewelry and ostrich leather jacket was once the toast of the town. Not even his gold hubcap sized belt buckle with the initial “K” in bold gives the game away. But Evel still walks down the center of the hallway, expecting the crowds to part before him as they once did.
Occasionally Evel leans heavily on his famous black cane. Embedded on the tip is a gold medal with the image of him on his motorbike beneath the words “Evel Knievel – Last of the Gladiators.” But even when the gladiator does go, his name will remain.
His son Robbie “Kaptain” Knievel followed in his dad’s tire treads and has actually beaten Evel’s jumping record. “Some people say it is easier now. His bike weighs about 200lbs less than the one I jumped with. The suspensions today are fantastic. But you know, you still have to have the guts to jump. You still have to be able to pull the trigger. I lost that. I got to the stage where I couldn’t pull the trigger any more.I am not going to take anything away from Robbie. He is a great rider,” he said.
Even though his son has carried on the family trade, he has never captured the imagination of the world like his dad. And at 36, he won’t be jumping for much longer. “You reach the stage where you can’t pull the trigger any more. That is when you have to get out.” And Evel would be happy to retire the name to the history books.
“When I was visiting my grandkids last month the youngest Jesse, he’s just seven, came up to me and said, ‘Granddad, you know it is going to be up to me a my brother Josiah to keep the family name going. “He was wearing his bicycle helmet and sitting on an Evel Knievel bike. I just rolled my eyes and said, ‘Jesus.’
Visiting his grandchildren and his hometown of Butte, Montana, Evel has been taking stock of his life as his health begins to slip away. He says he has few regrets. “There were a couple of women I should have screwed that I didn’t, there were a couple of ramps I wish I had hit a bit faster. But apart from that. I have had a good life.”
It is a life which took him from poverty and a life of crime to the heights of stardom and riches, and back down to earth again with a bump. He earned a fortune from his stunts and endorsements, but blew the lot. “It is said I earned $30 million in one year, but spent $31 million. That is probably true.”
Evel still lives well, but it is nothing compared to the life he once had. Two Lear jets, a fleet of luxury cars. Homes in Florida, Montana and Las Vegas. they have all gone. Now he is down to an apartment in Florida, one Aston Martin, a four-wheel drive and his collection of motorbikes. It is little to show for a fortune amassed.
“My Knievel toys made $300 million. I had the top selling pinball machine. My Evel Knievel action figure outsold both GI Joe and Barbie combined. But, yeah, most of the money has gone. The IRS claim I owe them $21 million. They can kiss my ass. And I told them if they send someone around to get it I won’t be responsible for what happens to him. “Money is for spending and enjoying. And I sure did enjoy it.
“Some people can only dream of such a life. I lived it. I was watching television the other day, a biography on the history channel of Aristotle Onasis. They talked about his wealth, his riches, and I wasn’t impressed. I had bigger boats than he did, bigger yachts. I had more Rolls-Royces, more Ferraris. I had more racehorses than he did. I screwed more women than he did. And they were better looking too.”
Of all his accomplishments, it is one footnote Evel wants made clear when his obituary is read around the world.
Kevin Smith is a British journalist writing out of Los Angeles. He started Splash News, a celebrity news service, when he arrived in America in 1990.Splash provides celebrity news, features and photographs to magazines and newspapers in 34 countries around the world.
More Evel
Injuries
Evel Knievel is listed with the Guinness Book of Records for the injuries he has sustained. Here is a break down of those injuries.
Fractured skull, broken nose, teeth, jaw, left and right clavicles, sternum, right arm, left arm, upper back (twice) lower back (twice) pelvis crushed, pelvis fractured (three times) right hip ball and socket replaced, right knee, right shin, toes right femur broken five times, left and right wrists, all ribs fractured at least once.
Thrills and spills of Evel
March 1962:
Falling during a motorbike race, Evel breaks his shoulder and collar bone
January 1, 1968:
Evel Knievel’s most famous fall. Attempting to clear the fountains at Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas, he lands awkwardly. His rag-doll somersaults leave him in a coma for 29-days with a shattered pelvis, fractured hip, and smashed right femur. Surgeons rebuild his leg with a two foot long, three inches wide strip of steel.
May 30 1971:
Both femurs are snapped after he tumbles clearing 13 Pepsi trucks in Yakima, Washington.
March 3, 1972:
Cow Palace, San Francisco. Broken back and concussion.
May 31 1975:
Wembley Stadium, London. Evel crashes after clearing 13 double decker buses. Despite a broken pelvis, he gets on his feet to reach the microphone and announce he will never jump again.
1996:
Jumping again, Evel fails during a practice run over a tank of killer sharks at Chicago Amphitheater. Concussion and two broken arms. A cameraman loses an eye from a flying piece of shrapnel.
January 1998:
Golf. A tumble near a bunker means Evel finally has to succumb to a hip replacement.
July 1998:
Jacuzzi. Slipping on a wet railing, he falls and breaks a rib
Evel’s biography
1938 Oct 17:
Robert Craig Knievel is born in the mining community of Butte, Montana.
1952:
In school, Robert Knievel holds records for push-ups and sit-ups.
Goes on to pole vault, ski jump and play for local hockey team.
He boxed, and raced stock cars and motorcycles.
1953:
Hustles in bars as a professional arm wrestler.
Worked as pit face worker in copper mine.
Arrested for kidnapping his future wife Linda.
Arrested for stealing hubcaps.
The name Evil Knievel is born. A prison guard jokes that he has local gangster “Awful Knofeel and “Evil Knievel the hub cap thief in the same cell. The name was later legally changed to Evel to avoid upsetting religious fans.
Stint in the army.
1962:
Salesman for Combined Insurance Company for America. Held record for most polices sold in one week. Left when it was discovered most were sold to inmates at a local mental asylum.
1964:
Crime spree across America with bank robbing gang. worked as their safe cracker. One member of team was caught and sentenced to 15 years.
1965:
Knievel the showman is born. Trying to attract attention to his motorcycle dealership, he leaps off a ramp and clear a mountain lion, but lands on a box of rattlesnakes, scattering the venomous snakes and the spectators.
Evel goes on to tour America with his motorcycle stunt show.
1968:
Cleared the 150 foot long fountains at Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas, but crashed upon landing.
1973:
Evel’s best jump. L.A. Coliseum. He clears 50 cars stacked four deep.
1974:
Evel’s ill-fated jump over Snake River Canyon. After watching two test rocket bikes plunge into the deep Idaho ravine, Evel launches himself as the world looks on. But the drogue parachute deploys on take off and he lands back on the same side he took off from. Despite blood pouring from his ears and eyes from the g-forces, the public feels cheated and Evel never recaptures the mystic.
1977:
Evel batters publicist Sheldon Saltman with a baseball bat. Evel said stories of drug use in a book Saltman wrote are lies. “I broke his arms so he couldn’t write anymore lies. I should have killed him,” Evel said. Evel serves just six months of three years. The arrest ruins his image as the All American hero forever.
Evel vanishes from public life with a bottle of beer in his hand.
1992:
Evel leaves. wife Linda.
1992:
Evel meets his current love, 29-year-old Krystal Kennedy.
1993:
Evel diagnosed with hepatitis C.
1995:
Caught with a selection of guns and knives in his car, Evel does 200 hours community service
1998:
Evel told he has months to live.
2000:
This interview with Evel is reprinted in the-vu. But Evel cheated death again and at time of writing Evel still lives.
In the 21st century, movie star Errol Flynn is a distant memory, but he was so huge in his time, that Arnella Flynns drugged and boozed demise seemed to cry out for an investigative trip to the Island.
Reported and written by Kevin Smith in Los Angeles in October 1998.
Arnella Flynn in 1992 (c) Splash News
Its hard to imagine what screen legend Errol Flynn would have wanted for his children. The hell raising Hollywood icon, as famous for his hard drinking and womanizing as for his films, may have enjoyed the idea of one of the kids growing up to be a chip off the old block, following in his staggering footsteps.
But it was probably best “Captain Blood” died long before his daughter Arnella.
Wizened and old before her time she died a sad and lonely drug addict in September 1998, aged 44.
Reduced to stealing coconuts to pay for her cocaine and rum, she lived the life of a poor beach bum while her mother Patrice Wymore, Errol’s third and last wife, lorded it as a plantation owner in Jamaica. She could have lived the good life and been heir to the 3,000 acre Flynn Estate, but like her father she drowned her demons in drink and drugs and died prematurely.
Her exasperated mother, who had long since given up trying to rescue her wayward daughter, tried to turn a blind eye as Arnella paraded around the local beach with her Rastafarian boyfriends, high on a mixture of white rum, white powder and ganja. On September 21 1998 the embarrassment ended when plantation workers discovered Arnella dead in her bed.
The official cause of death was heart failure due to bilateral lung disease. But ask any of the locals on the Caribbean island and they will tell you it was a long, slow suicide by hard living.
“You couldn’t keep up that pace forever,” said Jerky, a market stall owner who would buy vegetables Arnella on her small patch of land. “She was a lovely girl, but her big problem was the coke. She couldn’t stay away from the stuff. “If you do that every night like she did, it will kill you. Everyone knew that was the way she was going to go.”
At a nearby bar nestled on the edge of the sprawling Flynn estate, old women shake their heads as they recall the girl who grew up on the island.
“She used to be such a pretty girl, but at the end she was just a bag of bones,” said Doris Brady. “She looked like an old woman, older than her mum.”
Arnella came late into Flynn’s life. Flynn’s third wife Patrice, his co-star in three films, gave birth to Arnella in Rome. But it was in the St Mark’s Anglican church in Boston, Jamaica, where she was christened. Along with her brother Sean and sisters Deirdre and Rory (correct, Rory is a girl) they all grew up on the island.
Flynn had called Jamaica home since his yacht Zaca ran aground there in a hurricane in the 1940s. Falling in love with the tranquil blue waters, he decided to stay and sank his fortune from film making into the cattle and coconut farm stretched along six miles of coastline. He bought the nearby Titchfield Hotel where he entertained his Hollywood society friends.He won the picturesque Navy Island, sitting just off the coast by his hotel in a boozy dice game.
But when Arnella was just two years old, he split from her mother and moved 17-year-old Beverly “Woodsie” Aadland in to her place. When Arnella was just four her father died of a heart attack in Vancouver where he was trying to sell his yacht to a rich Canadian. He was 50.
“I think one of the problems Arnella had growing up was that everyone around her knew her father, but she didn’t,” said Carol Churchill, attorney for Patrice Wymore. “She had a lot of problems to cope with growing up. And having this famous father you don’t even know hanging over you is not easy.”
Arnella began her slide quickly. When she was just 13 her mother shipped her away from Los Angeles. “I had to get her away from Sunset Strip and all its temptations,” she said in 1983. “She was in danger of becoming a flower child.”
Jamaica was a poor choice for a sanctuary. The rocky coves that attracted Flynn to the island in the first place are used by cocaine smugglers on their way from Columbia to the US with their deadly cargo and marijuana grows freely in the verdant hills around the Flynn home.
But for a while she did appear to make a start in life. She had a son Luke in 1976 by a New Yorker named Carl and spent several years there, working as a model and trading off her famous name. Her face graced the covers of magazines around the world.
But back in Jamaica, where he father’s carousing is still the stuff of legend, Arnella found it tough to carry the Flynn name. She was a celebrity to everyone on the island without ever asking for fame. She took to drinking Wray and Nephew, Overproof White Rum neat. Even her father needed to dilute the liquor with water or juice to stomach it. And she found an endless supply of cocaine, marijuana and men among the easy going Rastas camped out in bamboo huts on Long Bay beach. Most of all, she found companionship.
“She was one of us, man,” said Rasta Anthon “She preferred to spend her time here than with the others. She was cool like that.” “But she should have kept away from the coke. I shared smoke with her, but none of the coke. That stuff messes with your head.”
Willard Hearne with picture of late love, Arnella. (c) Splash News.
Willard Hearne, a long time friend and sometime lover, couldn’t believe his luck when Arnella fell for him. A former supermodel and heir to one of the biggest plantations on the island, she was infatuated with the 56-year-old Rastafarian with matted dreadlocks and jaundiced eyes from years of smoking.
“Arnella was a very sweet girl, but she had a lot of problems,” Willard said, sitting on the deck of his jungle shack. “It is a shame she and her mother couldn’t get along. Just days before she died, Arnella got a letter from her mother’s attorney telling her she had to leave the estate, she was being kicked out. She told me she was sad because she had nowhere to go. Then three days later she was dead. I’ll miss her.”
Patrice had often tried to rein her in. She cut off her finances in the hopes that she wouldn’t be able to afford the one-pound-a-line of cocaine from the local dealers. But Arnella turned to selling her homegrown carrots and tomatoes on roadside stalls to tourists for cash. When that ran out, she took to stealing coconuts from her mother’s farm. For Arnella, told when she was a kid she would never want for anything, money still grew on trees. She was banished from the main house to a smaller, tatty house elsewhere on the estate.
In one last bid to cut off the supply, Patrice hired ranger patrols to guard her stocks of coconuts. She could spare the coconuts, but she didn’t want to spare her daughter. It was too late.
By the beginning of 1998, everyone was worried about her health except Arnella herself. She gave up on her appearance. Her hair wrapped in a scarf and her face wrinkled and tired from exposure to the sun, she would wear scruffy clothes as she climbed into her white Suzuki Swift and drive to a beachside bar to buy her cocaine.
“She was constantly out of it,” said Anthon. “She was one of the best people. She was flexible. When she was with us, she talked like a Jamaican, but when she was with the others she talked like an American. She wasn’t stuck up; she wasn’t all high and mighty. She loved the Rasta. She loved the long hair. She had several Rasta boyfriends. That was her thing. “But she was our friend too. We tried to stop her from doing the coke, but you can’t stop doing that stuff until you die.”
A few days after her death, the family gathered at the Trident Hotel to remember the good times. Her son Luke flew in from New York where he works as a photographic model. Her mother Patrice, now in her late seventies, temporarily moved out of her ranch to come to terms with her grief.
They talked long and hard about what went wrong, just as the family had debated Errol’s untimely death forty years ago. There was a brief service at St Mark’s church where she had been christened, but ultimately, her ashes will be flown to Los Angeles where she will be finally laid to rest in a plot next to her famous father in Forest Lawn Cemetery in the Hollywood Hills.
She spent her whole life living trying to live up the reputation of the man she couldn’t even remember. Only in death was she able to get near to him.
Kevin Smith is a British journalist writing out of Los Angeles. He started Splash News, a celebrity news service, when he arrived in America in 1990.Splash provides celebrity news, features and photographs to magazines and newspapers in 34 countries around the world.