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Scooterer Stories, Part Ten – Route 6 to Elvis

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Scooterer Stories
By Louis the Scooterer

The travels of Louis the Scooterer, a retired former South African who has found an unusual way of getting to know Israel.

Part Ten – Not Route 66, just Route 6, but at least there’s an Elvis.

Driving thru major cities and heavily populated areas do have some interesting places, but I reckon boredom could set in…so a quick discussion with myself, it is decided we will bypass those places and head toward Jerusalem and bypass to road 90 at the north end of The Dead Sea…and then will head NORTH ON 90. Then to much more exciting places. So now, I take the shortest route and get to Highway 6 (Kvish 6) to experience a short portion of that excellent highway.

I wrote a story elsewhere about that experience and its worth repeating here while we stop for a while at Herzl Forest and a quick visit to Engineering Forces Monument ( the highway story is told to you now while we take a coffee break…on the lawns at the monument.

Kvish 6 = Highway 6

Once, way back in the past – when I was still new to scootering – I remember vaguely having read something about an “Across Israel” (Highway 6) that was being built to be called Kvish 6. Then sometime later I read a sentence somewhere that the first 18 kilometers were ready and would be opened on some date or other. So, one day while scootering around, I came upon a road that was freshly tarred and was newly painted with pure white lines (being a new onramp >>> onto a new road).

So I asked a man in a van, “what is happening here?” He told me that Road 6 would be opening — in about 10 minutes, and IF I hung around I would be the first person to drive on it! About 10 minutes later, he told me to go!

The FIRST motor vehicle on the new highway was “me on my scooter”, going south…. no fanfare, no fuss, no cutting ribbons (this onramp was near Eyal Kibbutz. I rode those 18 kms on this beautiful, clean, smooth, well-built road with absolutely NO TRAFFIC. Later, one car went past me, and also an official “Road 6” patrol van.

So, all too soon I rode that 18 kms and went off at the new off ramp pointing to Rosh Ha’ayin, and rode to a coffee shop at a petrol station to drink a cup of coffee.

Then, about 30 minutes later, I decided to do the 18 kms going north….

NOW, this gets interesting… coz the new onramp is at the Head Offices of Kvish 6, and here was a big media event, TV people with cameras, newspaper people with cameras, many people with cameras… (except me, I never had a camera). There was a big party going on at the offices.

Many important dignitaries attended the “official opening”, and the “first drive,” which is from the office block going north — to the Eyal off ramp ~~> 18 kms.

I scooted in to the parking area and a woman ran up to me telling me “to get on the bus quickly, it’s waiting for me” (she thought I was a reporter from a newspaper). I soon sorted that out. So, I went into the lobby at the offices, a very posh affair with many people wearing suits.

I was given an orange juice and a cookie and a couple of maps, then someone told me I must leave… So a few minutes later I scootered on to the new 6 going ~~> north.

I noticed a few buses, many cars and vans and other vehicles were following me… as though I was the escort. After a short distance, all those vehicles overtook me and I guess I was at “the right-place at the right moment.”

I have since traveled several times on this beautiful, well planned, well built, well looked after, Kvish 6 highway, and also recently completed, now has two new twin filling-station-rest-rooms-shopping-complex on BOTH sides of the highway…. one way down south and the other up north. IT IS A DRIVING PLEASURE.

So I say…”Well done” and keep on adding new sections, and every time a new section was completed, I took a scoot to ride on it. The costs for a scooter are very little and I always feel safe riding on clean, litter-free roads. And all my trips have been in daylight hours.

A couple of times there were queries about the account that I received, but they were always solved by very pleasant personnel. I learned that much of the processes are automatically done to completion by computers, and the bill is clear and straightforward.

We need to squeeze a couple of hours visit to MINI ISRAEL…worth every minute and much more…all the model buildings and buses and trucks and soccer stadium and ports and cable-cars…and everything in Israel that is major importance is there in miniature….no problem with parking at the entrance, and obtaining a small electric golf cart to travel around in…Mini Israel is open on Saturdays, and is usually crowded so if you can manage during the week…better still.

Another couple of hours minimum is a must visit to the Armoured Brigade Military Museum at LATRUN where all sorts of armoured vehicles and tanks and many assorted vehicles of war that were captured from the enemies..during several wars. Pay an entrance fee and get some brochures, a movie in English explains and knowledgeable guides take you around and explain many things. (CLOSED ON SATURDAYS)… altho many captured vehicles can be seen if you drive a few hundred meters on the side road to the end of the fence. As usual, walking shoes and cameras always.

A short visit to the Monastery close by and a visit inside if you like climbing many steps…some days there are open air markets and food kiosks in the carpark.

Of course plan your day to visit NEWE SHALOM, close to Latrun, a neighbourhood where Israeli and Arab live side by side. A quick stop at the hotel lobby for some good brochures and then take a slow drive (or even a walk) through the streets and see what can be achieved.

Then we kadimah (move forward) coz our new journey has only just begun.

We pick-up route #1 and head toward Jerusalem..and at junction at Abu Ghosh we make a detour and head for ELVIS INN…this delightful restaurant that remains furnished in Elvis Presley times and hundreds of photos on the walls are a reminder as we sit at a table with Elvis Presley, and his music is always in the background. Excellent service from a small snack to a full meal, and if you drink a coffee, you get to take the mug as a souvenir.

I must mention the incredible toilets that cater for many tour buses that stop there. Outside in the carpark are many Elvis reminders including a magnificent “gold” statue of “The King Of Rock n Roll)..this is a “must” visit.

As we may start our day very early and finish very late, I’m not suggesting sleeping time but for the record I have slept over several times at Yitzchak Rabin Youth hostel…which is nicely placed for restaurants and for leaving the city without being snarled in traffic.

So, after Elvis Inn we stay on #1 and travel east til we get to #90…with a few short stops on the way to take pictures. 6 stops for 5 minutes each should be enough….you will decide what pics you want,
and at the end of #1 we coffeesnack at the same place we were at on an earlier time. We look at our mapatlas and plan our trip north on #90.

(Very much more exciting than driving thru built-up areas surrounded by highrise buildings and shopping malls).

Louis the Scooterer is 69 years old and it sounds like he’s just getting started.

Growing Young (and Perhaps Sick) with Human Growth Hormone (HGH)

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By Dan Hall

Propagandaville – a quaint little town with white picket fences, nuclear families, neighborhood schools, and friendly salespeople who’ll be as nice and polite as possible so long as you’re shelling out money to buy their wares. Yes, in Propagandaville, money is king, and snake-oil peddlers abound, pushing their products onto unsuspecting people all in the name of health.

News of Human Growth Hormone or HGH has flooded the television and print advertising market in the past decade. Claims that HGH will retard the aging process, boost your sex drive, build muscle mass, help trim fat, cure depression, make you more intelligent, and cause you to feel better and healthier are ever-present in the media. But are these claims accurate? Is HGH therapy truly the new elixir of youth, or are the claims unsubstantiated, inaccurate, and just plain wrong?

HGH research has been occuring since as early as the 1960s, perhaps even earlier. HGH isolated from human pituitary glands is often used therapeutically to treat people with growth hormone deficiency, which could easily lead to reduced muscle mass and bone density. Of course, a true deficiency in growth hormone is not normal; it can be caused by a variety of factors, including hypopituitarism, tumors of the brain, and so
forth. Traditionally, people who need HGH treatment visit endocrinologists and do not purchase their HGH from infomercials.

Truthfully, HGH no longer exists, as scientists have stopped using true Human Growth Hormone and now market synthetic growth hormone. People claiming to sell HGH are not truly selling Human Growth Hormone but a synthetic blend that could very well be anything! Chances are, what is being sold is nothing more than amino acids or proteins wrapped in a neat little package. Unless you have a true GH deficiency and are willing to be diagnosed by an endocrinologist, you’re most likely wasting your money on mass-marketed HGH.

What’s frightening about all of this is that HGH does have its side-effects–ones that are rarely if ever mentioned on television. Diabetes, a gross enlargement of the nose and other facial features, a thickening of the skin and connective tissue, an increase in muscle mass but not strength, nerve damage, joint pain, certain cancers, edema, and other symptoms have been reported after prolonged use of commercial HGH. This is not something to be taken lightly, for it can very well have a negative effect on your health.

Homeopathic HGH (which is sold in small dosages) may actually live up to some of the hype, but only because the dosages are small enough to affect a change but not significant problems. Muscle mass may increase, skin may appear healthier, and energy may rise–in part due to the pituitary gland producing more natural GH as a side-effect–but these are all temporary effects. The true causes of aging have little to do with a lack of HGH and more to do with a lack of nutrition and/or an overabundance of toxins lodged within the joints and tissues. HGH can only add to these problems, not solve them.

Longevity cannot be found in a pill. A life-transformation is required to slow, stop, and perhaps reverse the aging process. Changes in diet, thought process, activity, and other areas of life are all necessary to remain young and live a long, healthy life. Pills, powders, shakes, oils, and other products will never replace true healthy living. And until we, as a society, can embrace the natural laws that will keep us healthy, we will continue to look for the next great wonder drug, thereby fueling the informercial conglomerates well into the future.

Dan Hall is a teacher and author living in Georgia. He is the author of the book Neohygiene. Visit him on the Web at http://www.neohygiene.com.

Pop! Goes The Mini Cooper Culture

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By Mike Marino

The British Are Coming! The British Are Coming!

Those madcap ale drinking, pub hopping bloody Brit Redcoats ain’t just figments of the imagination Mate! Nor are they strangers in a strange land to the landscape of American history. Over 200 years ago, a perplexed Paul Revere rode deep into the bosom of the dark of the midnight countryside to warn of imminent peril and invasion by the forces of King George, by George!

In due time, another George, ours, who went by the name of Washington, took careful aim for the royal jewells, gave them a swift kick in the royal cahones, and sent them packing north to Canada, eh, and back across the big pond to Jolly Olde England. The Americans, now victorious in revolution, would not fear nor suffer another British Invasion ever again…well, that is until the British Invasion of Mods, Rockers and Pop Culture hit our shores like a behemoth tidal wave with a rock n’ roll backbeat in the 1960′s!

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!

The Fab Four…The Rolling Stones…The Who! Who? British Music and moptop haircuts sucker punched American youth culture with powerful pop culture blitzkrieg and brought it to it’s sociological knees with a style of dress and a new code of conduct that would propel us into a whole new universe. A pop universe of James Bond, shaken, not stirred. Carnaby Street and Mary Quant, Dusty Springfield, Mods Aplenty and Pussy Galore. We were high on hiked up mile high mini-skirts and jazzed on jacked up go-go bootsl. Our hearts pumping in overdive, and without question, London proved, once and for all, that indeed, England swings like a pendulum do!

John, Paul, George, and Ringo, the Four Horsemen of the Beatles Apocalypse, made an indelible impression on all of us, similar to a tire iron being raked across the skull of some hapless victim in a dark alley in Detroit. However, it was an unlikely little motoring machine that not only came to personify that era more than anything else, but also flexed t’s design muscle and became a major bonafide pop icon. A chrome-magnon pop star in it’s own right with a cult following to match that of the Grateful Dead. That major, was a mini. A Morris Mini to be exact.

The red-dread, dread-of-Red ideological ice age that defined the meltdown nuclear Cold War era had produced a politicaly unstable behemoth of a glacier that was advancing and laying waste to everything in it’s path. That same instability would eventually knock stability off it’s pedestal and produce a plethora of petrol panic at the gas pump. The growing, out of control crisis in the Suez Canal region in the later part of the decade was to become the bravo-British-bravado version of the shootout at the OK Corral in the American Wild Child Wild West. This time those madcap Earp’s and Clanton’s were replaced by mysterioso shrouded-in-mystery Egyptians and pip-pip-cheerio stiff upper lip and all that Brits. Plain and simple, the sixshooter of oil consumerism had run out of bullets, and gas rationing, once again, was becoming a British way of life.

Clearly, a petrol saving, more miles to the gallon messiah of a car was needed to meet this crisis headon and to preach the gasoline gospel, and it was the vehicular virgin birth of a BMC classic that rose to the challenge. In 1952, two separate motor companies, Austin and Morris, merged in a marriage of metal to form the British Motor Corporation. BMC raced to meet the design needs of the growing gas crisis, and by 1958 had test driven and sent to production the design that would come to symbolize British Culture in the 1960′s.

The underwraps mini wonder wagon was unleashed in 1959 in two separate versions. The Austin factory in Longbridge gave birth to the Austin Seven, “The Incredible Austin”, while the Morris plant in Cowley delivered the Morris Mini, “Wizardry on Wheels”. Both destined to evolve into the singular, all powerful and rally race fashionable Mini-Cooper by 1961.

Power and muscle were not hallmarks of the original design under the motor meister, Sir Alec Issigonis. Born in Turkey in 1906, Issigonis went to work at Morris Motors in 1936 after studying engineering in his new adopted homeland, England. His idea was simply to design a car that was safe for the public and affordable for the masses, following in the footsteps of the vehicular visionary, King Henry the Ford, and his immensly popular Model T, and also the popular German Volkswagen. According to legend, the original sketch of the Mini design was drawn on a restaurant table cloth.

The Mini, at first was merely a “housewifes car” fit only for toodling to the grocery or scooting about town. In 1961 it got a high performance injection of John Cooper vroom and zoom, and it was, not only off to the races, but also well on it’s way to becoming the fashion accessory of the decade! The Mini sold a respectible 20,000 units in 1959 B. C. (Before Cooper), but by mid decade in 1965 it had topped the 1,000,000 mark milestone for units sold!

John Cooper had a formidable background in high performance motoring. Born in 1923, John and Cooper, Sr. formed the Cooper Car Company in the aftermath and shadow of WWII, and by 1948 were building serious rear engine racing monster mo-sheens. The 1950′s were the definitive age of the Chrome-magon. Racing was taking the world by the short hairs, and Cooper & Co. were making machines that were leading the perfomance pack on the racing circuit and in short time made it the must have car of the speed loving motoring public. John had already made a high octane impact on the autoworld, but the heavy metal planets were all in perfect alignment, and the best was yet to come when he put his expertise to work on the marvelous Mini. It was from this fornication of form and design that the pre-eminent rally sportser of the times would emerge…The Psychedelic Petroleum Prince of the Proletariat…The Legendary Mini Cooper!

The decade of the 1960′s saw the super duper Cooper take on and kick asphalt in a variety of key races that proved her metal once and for all. The Mini Cooper won consecutive Monte Carlo Rally’s, the Tulip Rally’s in ’62 and ’64, the Alpine Rally in ’63 and 25 other prestigious races out and about the European continent. The original Cooper’s came with a 4 speed tranny, go from 0-60 in 12.9 seconds, 0-100 in 20 seconds and best of all, got an amazing 30 MPG! Racing Coopers however, along with the pedigree led a hard life on the circuit and many had to be reshelled continually.

The Cooper also had a low center of gravity for cornering, and the Cooper S of 1963 – 1967 had wider wheels than a stock Cooper. The Rally Rear Package came with straight through exhaust, mini lite wheels, roll bar, twin fuel tanks and a lightweight stick on lisence plate. Other inclusions where woodrim moto-lita steering wheel, Halda trip meter, tachometer, stop watches, map light and a fire extinguisher!

Mods needed rods and that damn little Cooper fit the bill and soon anyone who was anyone was sporting a Mini Cooper, from The Beatles to Peter Sellers. Michael Caine even drove one into the realm of fame and infamy in the film “The Italian Job” in 1969. The Mini Cooper was king, and as anyone knows, it’s good to be the King!

As the Psychedelic Sixties began to fade away in a bag of seeds and stems, there were efforts afoot (Gadzooks!) to kill the little Mini beastie, but it kept selling in spite of those efforts. Cries of “It’s Alive” could still be heard loud and clear at the car dealerships and showrooms, as the resiliant little creature refused to go down without a fight. Until the ’80s.

As the decade of “Me” dawned on the horizon the Mini began to decline into it’s own sunset on the automotive horizon, but a new company that was now producing the Mini was trying to keep itself afloat on the horsepower ocean and not sink like the ill-fated Titantic. That company, Rover, came out with themed editons to tap into the reigning motherlode of nostalgia and by 1990 Japan was eating them up like Godzilla beast-feasting on nuclear power plants!

Sir Alec passed on to piston paradise in 1988 and John Cooper crossed the quarter mile into horsepower heaven in the year 2000 at the age of 77. In 1994, Rover was acquired by BMW and today they produce and export three different models to the motoring masses. It might be a Mini but you can’t judge a book by it’s cover…the Mini Cooper Slogan sums it up best…

“You Don’t Need A Big One To Be Happy!”

Mike Marino is a freelance writer of Pop Culture and Travel and also a published author of “The Roadhead Chronicles Book”

The Roadhead Chronicles Book

http://community.webtv.net/roadheadthree/book

Contact:
dharmabumroadie@yahoo.com

A Communist Parade

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By Nick Dao

My trip to China to see The Great Wall was going to be in August of 1999, but then I caught a news clip on CNN broadcasting how China was getting ready to throw a birthday bash in September to commemorate its 50th Anniversary under the communist rule. The news clip said there would be parades and other joyous festivities! While I certainly would never be one to celebrate the joys of communist living, I was curious as to what the celebrations would be like. I postponed my trip for one month and flew to Beijing in September.

There were a lot of celebrations all right. There was a grand parade down one of the main boulevards, and there was a flowery and elaborate show of pageantry inside The Forbidden City. The celebrations would have been a sight to behold, if only I could have seen those sights for myself.

When I was walking down one of the crowded, main boulevards to see one of those grand parades, I ran smack into a wall of soldiers blocking my path. At first, I thought they were a part of the parade that hadn’t yet joined in with the procession. I thought they would soon be marching and moving, so I waited for them to move, but they stubbornly just stood there. My impatience was getting the better of me. I tried to go around them, but they had blocked the road so that there was no getting around them. Those uniformed soldiers with their rifles in hand had separated the parade from the crowd.

What was going on, I wondered? I wanted to ask someone about the soldiers, but I don’t speak Mandarin. I looked around and saw a Caucasian guy who was standing idly by at the side of the road. He didn’t look nearly as perplexed as I was and seemed to have a grasp on the situation. I walked over to him and said a slow, “Hello,” while hoping he was an English speaker.

“Hi,” he said with a smile.

His vernacular greeting instantly told me he was American, and I felt relieved we wouldn’t have to talk in broken English. “What’s going on here,” I asked him. “I’m trying to see the parade, but those soldiers are blocking the way.”

“They’re keeping out the public,” the guy informed me. “You have to be some sort of a VIP to get past the soldiers and see the parade.”

I wrinkled my brow and spouted out, “You’re kidding me! You have to be a special somebody to see a parade?”

The guy smiled ruefully then sighed out loud, “Believe it or not.”

I thanked him for the explanation and walked away shaking my head. When I saw that news clip on CNN about the festivities to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Communist Party, I had automatically assumed the parade would be for anyone and everyone, just like it was in the USA. Little did I know that in a communist country, you would have to be special somebody in the government or the army to stand by the side of the road and watch a parade.

I meandered away from the parade that I didn’t get to see and headed over to The Forbidden City. If I couldn’t see a parade, I thought, then I could at least see the historical site of The Forbidden City, and that assumption turned out to be my next mistake.

On my way over to The Forbidden City, I’d questioned if I would be able to get in there since the powers-that-be might have been having a pageantry in The Forbidden City. I dismissed that concern when I concluded that if the VIPs were back there busily watching a parade, then they couldn’t also be inside The Forbidden City simultaneously watching a pageantry.

After I had arrived at the gates of The Forbidden City, I began to wish I had stuck with my original plan to visit Beijing a month earlier in August. There wasn’t any display of pageantry in The Forbidden City at that moment, but the people working under the VIPs were busily setting up The Forbidden City for the pageantry. Therefore, The Forbidden City was closed and off-limits to everyone who wasn’t of the VIP status.

I chalked up the day as another learning experience that taught me something about sightseeing in a foreign country and about the inclusion of democracy versus the exclusion of communism. The next time I would see a parade on Main Street, USA, I would appreciate how anyone and everyone would be invited to watch the parade regardless of whether or not they were a VIP.

Writer Nick Dao is based in Southern California. An American originally from Vietnam, he is able to offer a unique perspective on travel to Asia and elsewhere.

Quench the Thrist of Frizzy Hair

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By Diana Dudas

It seems like such an enigma. Of the hundred or so emails I receive daily, the same question pops up endlessly. “Why is my hair so, frizzy and dry, coarse or brittle?” I intend to try and solve this mystery. And my first clue has to do with moisture deficiency!

Oil and Water

90% of us suffer with dry brittle or frizzy hair because our hair is deficient of (moisture) WATER! There is a certain preconceived notion that has been passed on from generation to generation. That is the idea that our hair is dry, because we are lacking in natural oils. We are told that if we nurture our hair by brushing vigorously 100 times a day, or if we nurture our hair with hot oil treatments and cholesterols. If we do all of these things, then we are sure to be blessed with beautiful, shiny and healthy locks. This might be the case, if you have young virgin (hair that is not chemically treated) hair. But this is certainly not the case, once you have impaled your tresses, with harsh chemicals such as bleaches and alkaline permanents. Or if you have naturally curly hair,

Naturally Curly Hair

Those of you who have curly hair, have these curls, because of a curvature of the hair follicles .A normal hair follicle under a microscope would be seen as perfectly straight. However yours would have a definite bend in it. This causes the hair to curl. Where the hair curves it compels the cuticle (the outer layer of the hair) to lift.

The Cuticle

Under a microscope, A cuticle is similar in appearance to shingles on a roof. When the hair is in good condition, and is straight and has good porosity the tiles or cuticle layers are tight together and in perfect in shape, giving the hair a smooth appearance. This makes light reflect off the hair enhancing shine! When hair is in bad conditioner, is curly or has poor porosity, the cuticle layers are lifted and sometimes damaged and broken. This makes the hair feel coarse and brittle. It also causes the hair to absorb light, giving the appearance of dull lifeless hair.

To sum up this scenario. Because curly haired cuticle layer is permanently lifted, it feels, coarse, and brittle and has no brilliance. Hence the dull, lifeless look. It also means that our hair has poor porosity.

Porosity

Is the ability for hair to be able to absorb and retain moisture. The best way for me to explain this is to would be for you to imagine a sponge. First of all imagine a brand new sponge. It will have tiny holes in it, and when you immerse it in water, it will soak up a large quantity, and be able to hold that liquid for a long period of time. This is because it has good porosity. Now imagine an old sponge. Its holes have become damaged and distorted. It might even be torn in some areas. When you immerse this sponge in the same amount of liquid, it will absorb far less and will certainly not be able to retain the moisture so readily.
It is the same with hair. Hair that has poor porosity will not be able to absorb or retain moisture as well as hair that has good porosity. making hair permanently dry.

Hot oil treatments

Traditions have taught many of us that lavishly applying oil to our hair will give us the soft, shiny hair that we all desire. However more often than not, the opposite takes place. Most oils if they are not essential oils do not have the ability to penetrate into the hair shaft. Nor do heavy cholesterols. What they will do, is to lay on top of the cuticle, and coat the cuticle. This may give the hair some Brilliance. However, it will also coat the hair. And causes product build up.

Product build up

Once the hair is coated, your problems will commence. First of all, the moisture that our hair so desperately needs will not be able to permeate through the wall of product build. The moisture is then not able to find it’s way underneath the cuticle layer. The hair cannot then be conditioned. Also the oils will not diffuse, but sit on top of the cuticle layer. If you use any kind of hot styling tools such as blow dryers or hot irons, what will happen to your hair, is exactly what happens when you put an egg into a hot pan. It will fry!

If you live in a sunny climate, the oil will do the same thing. The sun will heat the oil and fry your hair. You must have heard the term, my hair feels fried.

Optimum condition

For hair to be in tiptop conditioner is has to have a moisture (water) content of at least 8%, and the right balance of protein and natural oil. Most of us produce enough natural oil (sebum), to keep our hair healthy, but lack the moisture. After having a chemical service your moisture level will drop as low as 2%, causing, drying of the hair, followed by split ends. The same will happen with constant use of blow-dryers and hot styling tools, such as curling or flat irons. If the moisture level is not restored to it’s optimum 8%; by the use of good moisturizing products your hair will ultimately become brittle and possibly break.

What to do

You need to give your hair lots of TLC, with shampoos that are designed to restore your hair’s moisture level to its optimum 8%. Along with intense conditioners that will help to repair damaged cuticles, improve porosity, elasticity and general health and appearance of your hair. Avoid product build by using products that contain natural ingredients. Also avoid hot oil treatments, heavy cholesterol type conditioners, and petroleum-based and silicone-based products. Also hairsprays, mousses and gels that have a high alcohol or butane content.

Those of you with naturally curly, wavy or frizzy hair, those of you who use hot styling tools or who chemically treat your hair, will need to give your hair extra nurturing by supplying it with the necessary nutrition and moisture that it needs. Sun worshippers need to make sure that your hair care products have sunscreen properties to protect your hair from the damaging affects of the UV rays.

Summary

Our hair needs moisture, moisture, and moisture! Who needs to add moisture more than most? People with naturally curly hair, chemically treated, hot styling tool users or people who live in hot sunny and arid climates.

© 2002
Author Diana Dudas G.C.H.S.R.H. is an expert with more than 28 years experience in the beauty industry. She has answered over 2000 questions for allexperts.com and has had her work published in many well-respected beauty magazines both online and off.

Vichy Carrots

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By Raymond J G Wells

Vegetables such as carrots form a critically important part of our diet and numerous attractive and appetising dishes utilizing carrots can be made. Carrot and Coriander soup is one such offering, another is Carrots in Lemon Cream Sauce and one of my great favorites, Vichy Carrots.

Carrots were once regarded in Europe as being as exotic as avocados and artichokes but they have not been used medicinally except in Vichy. In the Spa they were featured on the menu of many of the hotels and restaurants on a daily basis as an element in the cure of overloaded digestive systems.

I find that Vichy Carrots (also called carrots a la Vichy) are extremely easy to prepare and constitute an appealing and appetising way to serve this root vegetable. To be fully authentic you should use Vichy water but realistically if that is not available, add bicarbonate of soda to tap water. Most decidedly my culinary offerings are by no means particularly outstanding but two dishes I prepare do seem to get the critical acclaim of my wife, viz, Chicken Kiev and Vichy Carrots. She, believe you me, is a hard taskmaster and rarely gives out praise for my efforts in the kitchen. Anyway here is my recipe for this dish:

Vichy Carrots

Ingredients

1 lb carrots thinly sliced

2 oz butter

3 tbsps water

1 teaspoon sugar

Pinch of bicarbonate of soda (added to the water)

Salt and Pepper to taste

Finely minced Fresh Parsley

Method

Place all the ingredients into a saucepan, bring to the boil and boil steadily until the carrots are cooked and tender and the liquid has been reduced to a small amount of shiny glaze. Serve the Vichy Carrots garnished with the minced parsley.

The end result is an attractive, colorful, vegetable dish which even has the added bonus of aiding your digestion.

Bon Appetite!

Writer: Raymond Wells is a British born economist and writer currently living and working in Malaysia. He has writing credits in print magazines such as Frequent Traveller, Home & Country,Townswoman and International Living and in on line publications such as Mad Dogs Breakfast, the-vu, Zinos.com, Word Archive.com and Scribe and Quill.

Killer Pattaya Prostitutes

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By Leonard Calcagno

A half-drunk and drugged big blonde Dane wakes up relived of $500 US. Last thing he remembers is that this beautiful Thai prostitute gave him a pill with her tongue, telling him it was an aphrodisiac. He was a lucky bastard; last week two Germans were found naked and dead in their hotel room. Their personal effects were never found by the police. Not even the hotel owner remembers if they came in with somebody.

Most of the tourists in Pattaya, Thailand come for the same thing: sex for cheap. But cases of prostitutes stealing everything from their drunk clients were not uncommon. This time, something about the case didn’t wash. The coroner determined that both men died of heart attacks at approximately the same time in the same room.

These deaths, and a number that followed, began making international headlines, and the sex tourist industry shrank. The stories were becoming common: some beautiful Thai slipped in an “aphrodisiac” or asks the client to lick her breasts. And that’s pretty much the last thing anyone remembers. Usually they would be relieved of wallet and watch. But now, johns were being killed off instead.

Police in Pattaya were convinced that the local mafia was using prostitutes to lure, rob tourist and kill them. Working with INTERPOL, local police began combing the areas that the tourists were found dead or unconscious. The south of Pattaya is where the most of the prostitute bars are. European [re: white] agents began visiting these bars undercover. It’s not the first time that Thai and European police have worked together. A porno cartel dealing pedophilia was busted by Dutch and Scandinavian police a couple of years ago.

South Pattaya is where every bar has girls waiting in the door, bringing customers for cheap sex and beer. In every bar, naked girls are trained to be bait for sex tourists. Most of the “beer bars” are decorated in a cheap Christmas version of a high school beach party — but with a hundred horny drunken tourists looking and touching underage smiling merchandise. The message parlors are filled with who girls specialize in everything for the right price: $5 US; And for a little extra, they’ll go to your hotel, too.

The biggest beer bar is The Marine: two big dance floors and a dozen live show booths, each with a couple of girls scrammed in waiting for customers. In this ocean of horny tourists, police waited for 3 weeks before a Thai prostitute with mafia connections came in contact with one of them.

In a corner of the bar, there’s a drunken German tourist with 10 girls, talking loudly and paying for drinks without a care in the world. He’s tall, blue-eyed and full of golden jewelry, just waiting to be robbed. In the other corner policemen have spotted a group of Thais looking him over and sending girls over to him. They let the drunken German leave with the girls, and the next day the police get a report from him saying that he was drugged and robbed.

For two months the police go to The Marine and always hear the same story. Nobody is killed though; the police follow the stupid tourists for it’s safety after they leave the bar, but they needed proof for a murder rap. Finally, an undercover officer flush with cash gets surrounded by The Marine bar girls until mafia thugs send their two most beautiful girls to suggest a sex-crazed night in a local hotel. Accepting the invitation, the cop directs the other police officers to the hotel.

As the trio get to the room and the two prostitutes get naked, they ask the cop to take the so-called “aphrodisiac.” The police bust into the room and arrest the two prostitutes, confiscating the pill. They also arrest the four people waiting in the car and the gang in The Marine waiting for other suckers.

One the prostitutes, a 16-year-old girl, confessed about the killing going around Pattaya and how she and her cohorts drug tourists, rob them and the gang kills them. They confess using different methods to drug the johns. After he has consumed the pill, powder or liquid, it takes 10 to 20 minutes slip into a heavy coma-like sleep. Many johns end up dying of heart attacks.

About 75 to 100 tourists are found dead every year in Pattaya, some from an overdose, heart attack, fights and some still in bizarre circumstance. I guess it’s the price to pay for cheap sex in a land where sexual exploitation is the main product to sell.

Leonardo Calcagno, well know writer in Montreal Canada. He’s been writing for local Canadian, Americano and European e-zines and zines in French, Spanish and English for almost 5 years. More known to get hate letters from right-wing housewives and to get into fights with promoters who don’t let him interview bands! You will mostly see him eating tofu dogs and drinking Guinness with his laptop in Montreal writing another article about politics, music and sex. Graduated with a bachelor degree in International Politics with a minor on international law… his parents are still wondering why he took on a life of sex writer! Tattooed with Che, Husker Du and ARA! Played chino-Hispanic punk on Les Kalisses D’immigrant, Trash Blues on Les Tetes Reduites and now stoner rock on Your Sister ! He contributes on Freezerbox.com, Kerozen, Indymedia.org, Stooky.com, Eroticandy.com, Biotech Montreal Action, QuebecTel, Zona de Obra and other zines!

For more of Leonardo’s work, please visit www.montrealnightguide.com and www.montrealconfidential.com

Fizzrail and Ballystein

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By Jeffrey the Barak

Once upon a time there was a land in the Middle East that contained a variety of ancient peoples. There weren’t a lot of people by today’s standards, about as many as you might find in a small country town in Yorkshire or California, but there they were, white, brown and black tribal people who had migrated to the land which was eventually to become Fizzrail or Ballystein, depending on your point of view.

Technology imported from the Far East, Africa and the future Iraq enabled these exceptionally intelligent and beautiful primitives to develop a widespread agricultural society. Although they were of a variety of racial backgrounds, they were essentially one nation. They lived in peace together apart from the occasional territorial squabble, which at worst, led to a bout of warlike activity resulting in the deaths of a few hundred young adult males here and there.

Unfortunately something happened around three and a half thousand years ago that spoiled the whole thing. That thing which happened is known today as monotheism, or belief in one God. As far as we can tell, no one in our inconceivably ancient world ever believed in God until around a mere three and a half thousand years ago. The intellectuals at the time devised a whole new world history and using the best knowledge available from their discussions they decided to figure out the age of the universe from the time of its “creation” until their present time. The result of which can be seen today in the Glueish calendar year of 5760.

Anyway, some of the people in the region, missed out on this new fad and so it came to pass that some people ended up being Glueish, and some hereto identical people ended up becoming the local Larabs.

As time went by, a lot of the Glueish people decided to leave and spread themselves around their flat world with its heaven in the sky above. Some went to Southern India and ended up disappearing. Some went to China and also disappeared. Some went to Ethiopia, but it’s said that the Ethiopian Glues might actually have joined in the fun in more recent years. Many went to Spain, and many more went to Russia and Eastern Europe, including a large number of tiny countries that would eventually become Germany.

A lot of people were a little unsettled by the Glues and their different way of doing things so in many cases mass murders were used to make the locals feel better. This became quite a tradition, celebrated even today by ugly white kids with very short hair.

But even bigger than all of that, the next big thing happened back in Fizzrail and Ballystein. An exceptionally cool intellectual by the name of Cheezers popped up and made a whole bunch of people feel great with his radical new concepts based on peace and love. The ideas seemed to be free of charge at first, but there was a hidden price. Just as with Gluedyism a millennium and a half earlier, the followers of Cheezers had to suspend their disbelief and therefore their rationality by using a tool known as faith and accept wholeheartedly the idea of an all-powerful being who had created everything in the universe.

After Cheezers had been executed in the usual disgusting barbaric manner of the day, his followers decided to spread his word using militant political methods. Using fear they converted millions of people to the new belief system. The converts were afraid not only of the foretold consequences of not joining the gang, but also of the swords and other weaponry that the spreaders of the new idea were only too pleased to use on those who demonstrated any reluctance to convert.

The third part of the puzzle came about six hundred years later. Another amazing character called Moe, launched his Election 622 tour and succeeded in creating the third major religion, Hisbam.

So the stage was set in old Fizzrail and Ballystein. Three big ideas known as Gluedyism, Krispysanity and Hisbam coexisted to divide the people who had so recently been all the same. And the leaders and officers of those three great organizations enjoyed immense power over the lives, minds and wallets of the people and their governments.

Despite this, as time went on, the world as a whole became a better place for humans to live. Illnesses could be cured, inventions could be used, average life spans increased dramatically and at no time did the future ever look darker than the past.

But while all this was happening there was also the dark side. Wars took place between the armies of people who imagined they were different from each other in some way. Various kinds of people were massacred and exterminated for a variety of reasons. People grouped together with the people most like themselves until a situation was reached where if you were to ask someone to describe themselves, the first thing they would say would be something like, “I’m black/white/Glueish/Hisbamic/Krispyan etc. Oh and by the way I’m a doctor and I have one eye.”

After the biggest incident of selective murder in the mid 20th Century, during which millions and millions of people were murdered, including, but not limited to, six million Glues, the politicians of the day got together and decided that it would be nice if some of the surviving Glues could go back to the approximate location of their origins and create a new place to live called Fizzrail.

Unfortunately, some people from the ancient times, who never really left, were still there. They thought the place was called Ballystein. Anyway using amazing ingenuity, the Glues created a beautiful place out of an ancient and ugly mess. The new Fizzrail was like a paradise if you didn’t think too hard about it or look too closely.

Choosing to ignore the far left Socialist politics, the constant threat of war with the neighbors, and the terrible segregation that immediately existed with the creation of the nation, world leaders fell in love with the new Fizzrail with its industry and army and air force and beautiful teenage girl soldiers in miniskirts and little shorts.

The wealthy Glues in America and England poured money into the nation and retired to condominiums there and absorbed the local point of view through the local and world media.

However, some of the Ballysteinans were exiled abroad with deeds to land that they no longer owned. Land that was now covered by a whole new world.

And in Fizzrail, hidden things went on, which would eventually enrage the native Ballysteinans. For example, an entire Ballysteinan town would have to wait a week for its municipal water supply to be turned on for two hours, and then off again until the following week, while right next door a Fizzraily resort would be enjoying its green lawns and swimming pools.

Something had to give, and now we are here in August 2001. It seems that only a hereto-unknown genius would have any chance at averting an impending festival of death. Thousands of these fictitious Fizzrailys and Ballysteinans are about to die in an ever-escalating hatefest.

If this were real, if there really was a Fizzrail, or a Ballystein, it would be a terrible thing to watch.

So what about the real world? Taking the population as a whole we have approximately 33% Christians, 18% Moslems and 1/3% (a third of one per cent) Jews. What would happen if everyone suddenly woke up one morning and felt nothing but love for their fellow Man? What if all the hate would just suddenly vanish? What if they woke up the second morning and suddenly they didn’t believe in God anymore, just like a few thousand years ago before anyone had thought of God in the first place?

I don’t think that would be possible in our fictitious lands of Fizzrail and Ballystein, but it would be a beautiful thing if it were to happen in the real world!

Important note: The above tale is a work of light fiction. Any similarity to any actual place, race, Superbeing, religion or historical sequence of events is purely coincidental.

The Sally Kirkland vu from the land of the silver screen

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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