Saturday, April 23, 2011
TANTALIZING, TUMULTUOUS, AND TENACIOUS ... THE ALABAMA FOG HORN BLOWING THROUGH.
Happy Saturday all. Well it's the end of another exciting week in the A-Z challenge. Only one more week and we made it through this years challenge! My entry today is about a legend. Let's see if you can guess who this person is. What a character! I hope you enjoy it.
Dahling. Although I have been long dead, I will never be forgotten. As a senator’s daughter, my creativity was stifled and I was a shadow to my gorgeous older sister, who got all the attention. Could you imagine doing cartwheels just for a pat on the back?
Well, dahling, luckily by my fifteenth birthday in 1917, I blossomed into a ravishing beauty. My older sister married and I was free. Father dragged me to washington which was so not me.
Then dahling it happened, I saw an opportunity and I pounced on it. I sent my photo into a magazine contest to win a a part in a movie filming in New York. Could you believe I forgot to put my name and address on the back? Here I am at the local drug store and I see my picture splashed on a magazine cover with the caption “Who is she?”
Chaperoned by my aunt Louise, I arrived at the Algonquin Hotel in 1918, the only place to be dahling ... where the creme de la creme of actors, artists, and cultural elite meet.
I wanted to experience everything dahling, and I did! At eighteen auntie took a hike and I moved into an apartment with my friend Bijou Martin. Lord did that girl know how to party. Only the best cocaine and marijuana, not to mention the hundred cigarettes a day I inhaled! I never drank because I promised father I wouldn’t.
I acted as I pleased and said anything to shock people. I remember this one party, dull as doornails and the hostess mentioned the subject of rape. Then I just happen to blurt out that "I was raped in our driveway when I was eleven. You know, dahling, it was a terrible experience because we had all that gravel." You could well imagine how the party picked up then ...
As much as I adored the New York scene, my career just sat there like a dead tortoise. I decided to go to this divine astrologer and she told me, "Your future lies across the water. Go if you have to swim." We, dahling, as luck would have it, I received a telegram from this fabulous London theatre director. He recommended me to play a pivotal role in Gerald Du Maurier’s play THE DANCERS.
London was my future. Toasted all over town my fans chanted the moment I stepped on stage, “Tallulah! Tallulah! Tallulah!”