Carrie Fisher – I think I’m Quitting You!

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I think my girl crush on Carrie Fisher has sadly come to an end.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s been quite a ride.  Seeing her somewhere between one and ten times in Wishful Drinking on Broadway was definitely the highlight of last winter in NYC.  Each time I walked out of the theatre my cheeks hurt from laughing so hard.  And she has definitely been inspirational in getting my writing off the ground.  How she is able to turn a tragedy into a comedy is truly a gift.  And one day Carrie I will actually think my dad’s murder conviction is hilarious.

I do like to think that we have some similarities which are some but not limited to:

She’s from Los Angeles, I’m from Los Angeles
She owned a parrot, I owned a parrot (RIP Huey del Fuego)
She worked for George Lucas, I worked for George Lucas
She can tap dance, I can tap dance
She’s a writer, I’m (now) a writer!

Carrie Fisher

Carrie definitely recognized me when I became a regular at her show, and to this I have to say, “I swear, it’s not my fault I met someone at the theatre that could get me front row seats!”  But I also bank on the fact that she gets ECT’s (electro-convulsive therapy) which wipes the mind of your short-term memory.  So Carrie, I have this to say to you, if you keep recognizing me I call bullshit on those ECT’s!  Come on!

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Jailbird

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Huey del Fuego

These days, Dad’s wardrobe consists solely of double denim and flimsy white tennis shoes, but in 1984, after watching Jack Nicholson in Prizzi’s Honor, he sported pink and yellow blazers. Dad had a museum of cowboy boots – about 20 pairs ranging in color and animal hide, and he liked big gold rings and chains, and wore a gold bull around his neck.

But behind the curtain of Dad’s eccentricity, was a loving father, the evolution of a man who grew up in Hoboken projects, unattended by his mother, while his father spent his life in a sanitarium. He was one of nine children, but only kept in touch with one sister and a long-lost brother his mother had sold to neighbors.

Family meant everything to Dad. He enrolled my sister and me in an expensive Catholic school to ensure a good education, and went to church with Mom every Sunday, not because he was religious, but because it made Mom happy.

Dad ran a tight ship at home, and there were severe consequences for bad behavior. Once when I was sixteen, I snuck out of the house wearing a leopard-print tank top and leather miniskirt and hit a night club in Santa Monica, where I drank, danced and smoked cigarettes.

The next morning, Dad approached me, “Did you wear that outfit after your mother and I told you not to?” I loved him too much to lie. He walked away with disappointment in his eyes. It turned out his adult entertainment attorney had spotted me at the club. Two days later Dad sold my car and grounded me for six months.

In contrast to my flashy father was his business partner Mac whose steroidal frame stood 6’7″. Mac and Dad met while on the California Highway Patrol. Dad quit the force after a nasty motorcycle accident, and Mac was fired for accepting bribes. Later on, Mac brought Dad in as a partner to run his strip clubs in Los Angeles.

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A Special Call Out to Huey del Fuego, R.I.P. Buddy.

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Hello friends!  As my first post, I’d like to do a callout to Huey, my feathered life partner who died last year from cancer.  Miss you bud.

Dad bought Huey from Big Wally at the Jet Strip in 1984.  It took him a bit to warm up to me initially, but after a few months, we were fast friends.

Things Huey loved:

  • Popcorn, ice cream, pizza, hot dogs, celery and peanuts
  • Mimicking my laugh
  • Brushing his beak with his own tooth brush and mint toothpaste
  • Taking a shower with me
  • Walks in Central Park, where he’d say “hello” and “goodbye” to passers-by
  • Blonds
  • My makeup brushes
  • Birdbaths with the vaccuum on

Things Huey didn’t like so much:

  • Men
  • Birdseed
  • Dental floss
  • Being home alone
  • Skateboards
  • Loud music