LifeSoFarLaRue

As a child, my closest friend was my cousin Jerome.  A cousin of his (on his father's side was a delightful young girl named Barbara).   We, three I was told were inseparable as playmates.  And found great joy being with each other.    When I was five, Barbara came down with Rheumatic Fever and died.  It was, perhaps my first brush with death (although my brother, Wynant passed away the same year).   Looking back, I sometimes question why such innocence is taken away.   God's plan is very hard to comprehend for an adult much less a child.  And while all my memories of Barbara have faded over time,  I look at the picture (below) of myself, Barbara and Jerome swimming in a local river and I think we thought we would be friends forever.   Perhaps, it was my innocence.

As I grow older, I realize more and more that we are somewhat in control of our life or, as it were, our death. When my brother at the age of sixteen was struck by a drunk driver's car, he was hospitalized in a town nine miles away from my parents but managed to stay alive until they got there and could say goodbye.  He did not regain consciousness but I'm sure he heard their voices.  He waited for the right time. The same was true of my mother.   I was in New York when I got the call from my older brother that Mom had had a heart attack and was in the hospital.   I got the first plane I could and flew to Kansas. My brother and his wife picked me up as the airport in Wichita and took me to the hospital.  I was ushered into her room where we spoke briefly among the tubes and machines.  I stroked her hair and kissed her several  times and finally she said,  "Let's get out of here," and attempted to sit up.   The nurses subdued her and I was ushered out of the r

My mother related this story to me because I was too young at the time to remember it. It seems that when I was first introduced to the use of eating utensils (the baby spoon and fork) I did my best and had mastered each with a bit of skill (I was told). However, one evening when we were having supper (I assume I was in a highchair), I accidentally dropped my fork.   My mother slapped my hand, picked it up and placed it back in front of me. She said I did not cry but was slightly stunned by what had happened. Within minutes, as we continued to "dine," my mother accidentally dropped her fork. My father slapped her hand, retrieved the fork and put it on her plate. No words were spoken but a point had been made.

I thought twice about posting this mention of my sordid past.  But it happened and there's no going back. In 1979 or so, I was hired to write a script based upon an original story by the Amero Brothers to be called "Blonde Ambition." It was meant to be a "cross-over" film for playing to "adult" audiences as well as the general populace.  And indeed, it accomplished that and even achieved a bit of a "cult" following being the first "porno" that was a musical. It played Saturday night midnight showings at the Eight Street Playhouse in Greenwich Village where it ran for many months. Also, I doubled as Art Director for the film and, believe it or not, won the Critics Adult Film Award for Best Art Direction in 1981. The awards were handed out at the Copacabana and was quite the evening.   I remember Margaret Whiting was in attendance with her boyfriend Jack Wrangler.  And as the picture below indicates, Fabian, myself, Joh

Games have always been a joy to me..........not the sporting kind but the parlor kind.  There were the card games we played (as a child, "Hearts," "Crazy Eight," and "Old Maid")  And moving on, there was "Pitch" and "Poker" (with Poker being the only one I could play today."  But of all the games from those bygone days, "Charades" was  at the top on my list. And while Carol Burnett always tugged her ear to say hello to her grandmother, in my universe, it meant "Sounds like....." in a game of "Charades." Now, I confess that I enjoyed the board games as well....Monopoly, Parcheesi (although, I don't remember how to play that either), Checkers, Chess and all the others. But "Charades" always had a place in my heart. I guess it was that "Actor" in my soul. And the best acting-out I ever did is as follows:   It was a famous person, proper name. (Remember, you  "name t

While I'm sure I'd love Yellowstone or Yosemite and perhaps even Death Valley, my parks of choice have always leaned toward the man-made wonder instead of the natural kind.   Yes, my dears, I'm talking Disney and Universal.  Here are some highlights. My introduction to the "thrill" ride was at Universal in California...."King Kong," the ride.  You boarded a subway car and went through a labyrinth of sights, that were ultimately, interrupted  by the king, who shook the car, caused water mains to burst, electrical sparks to fly and all manner of mayhem.   I was hooked.  So on to the "Jaws" boat ride, around the back lot, in the shadow of the "Psycho" house up on the hill, gliding through calm waters and then......(That music sounds familiar)...Shark attack! Universal in Orlando gave me the "Twister" experience which wasn't a ride at all, but rather a viewing of a town being torn apart while you stood in stony silence

Born in 1941, I was not aware of some of the early films in my youth (although I've seen them all now).  My earliest recollection of Disney (in a theater) is "Song of the South" in 1946, and "So Dear to My Heart" in 1948.  These were both live action films with some cartoon sequences.  And they opened my eyes to great storytelling. Then, in 1950, the fully animated "Cinderella" burst upon the scene.  Pure magic for this nine-year old.   And it had a special connection to me.   It was right there when the Fairy Godmother sang her transformative song, "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" and sent the heroine off to the ball. She sang "......Yes, Salagadoola means mechicka booleroo but the think mabob that does the job is Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" "Mechicka booleroo.?"   Booleroo?  Boo LaRue!    I was in heaven!  Disney had immortalized me! Years later I found out they had spelled my name wrong.  But, I forgave them. And it's still o

Long before Burt Reynolds did his famous centerfold for "Cosmopolitan" magazine,  I bared it all as well. In the late 60's, I had two dear friends named Tod and Bob.   They were co-owners with two other guys of an antique store called Cellar Four (Four, for the four of them, Cellar because it was one flight down from the street) on West 46th or 47th just off Eight Avenue in NYC. They held cocktail parties near the end of each day as they were closing shop and it was always a fun time to mingle with friends who would drop by. They had wonderful antiques, some genuine and some "tweeked" by Bob with perhaps a bit of decoupage on an old wooden box.   And they were into the "Victorian" style. Early on, they acquired an antique photo album and began to photograph their friends as if they had lived in that era for inclusion into the album.  Everyone thought it was an honor to be asked to appear in the pages of their book. Approached to be include

I start this particular blog with a disclaimer.......It all  happened before I was born and my mother related it to me. When my parents were married they had no money for a photographer so after my elder brother, Lagrant, was born and money was available, they had this photo taken (Which my dad always called their "wedding picture".) The year the picture was taken is circa 1928. While I am not sure where this incident took place (my parents lived in Minco, Oklahoma in the early years and Lagrant was born there) and they moved to Kansas some time later. This was the time before indoor pluming and water for drinking, bathing, etc. was obtained from a pump outside the house and carried in.  There was usually a galvanized bucket with a large ladle in the kitchen for drinking and frequently a block of ice from the ice-box was submerged into it on especially hot days. There came a day when my mother was ill, running a fever and stayed in bed.  My brother who I'm

Fabian grew up in Montgomery, Alabama, raised mostly by his "aunts."  His father was Navy and his  mother traveled with him to various ports. The "aunts" were three ladies....Aunt Katie, (a spinster Latin school teacher, Margaret, the divorcee, and Mary, the youngest.) When I met them all in the late 80's,  I was welcomed in like an old friend and we made yearly visit to Montgomery to see them all.   It was always a joyous time, with great Southern cooking by the maid who prepared the meals.  (She was not live-in, but a family "member" in her own right.) Many a warm Summer evening, we would sit on the front porch, in various rocking chairs or the porch swing and wile away the time. Next door, lived  Miss Peak who was a treasure, (She always had her dining room table set for dinner and covered with a clear plastic sheet to avoid any dust on the dishes.)  She just believed in being prepared in case anyone should drop by at dinner time. When Mis

My sister-in-law, Helen and her terrific sister, "Frankie" were raised on a farm near Harper, Kansas by remarkable parents, Lem and Stella Laird. Although, I only meet them two or three times, I call them remarkable because of their outlook on life and their caring for the environment.   Lem had planted on their farm, every indigenous tree to Kansas and he could tell you everything about each one of them.  He was a fascinating man. Lem and Stella were also avid collectors of all sorts of things.   They had different types of rocks, stamps from all over, coins, shells and many antiques that suited them. This gift of collecting was passed down to their daughters and both seemed to concentrate on all things Coca-Cola. (Frankie had a large number of Coke trays.) And what is all this leading to?  Knowing my love of old movies, I was given a tray (it may have been a duplicate) from Frankie by way of my mother.   It shows Johnny Weissmuller and Maureen O'Sullivan (