After spending my teen years in Chattanooga, living on number 7 green of a golf course..poor us, attending GPS, a private girls’ school, falling in major love with Jim,(way more about him later) the president of the Senior class of Baylor, the  boy’s school, I was ready to have the summer of my life upon graduation..not so fast, missy.  The DAY AFTER I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL, we moved to Rochester, New York (for my dad’s job–puhleeeze) . 

So, instead of spending the summer at the country club pool with all my friends and skipping off to the University of Tennessee like everyone else I knew…my boyfriend dumps me for some girl who is more “advanced”.(and I’m being kind here)  and here I was in Rochester, NY…which I don’t think I had ever heard of and am sure I didn’t know where it was.

I knew NOT ON PERSON, and was about to start college at SUNY at Buffalo. knowing NOT ONE PERSON.   It was cold, lonely, grey, huge and, well, Buffalo.   The only thing I remember knowing about Buffalo was that  the football star OJ Simpson played there, and, well,  we all pretty much know where that went.  Story of my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I guess, during my “Hollywood” years I may have gotten a little bit “too big for my britches” as far as my family was concerned.  I remember they wanted to do a family reunion in the Florida Panhandle and I complained that I had to come “all the way from California” and the other siblings didn’t have to travel nearly that far.  I felt quite “put upon” that I was forced to make that weekend trip.  Did I mention we took a private plane in?  No, of course not..because that would make me sound like the brat I had become.

When I look back, I am amazed that my family put up with me…I wouldn’t have.

Some back story is necessary here…I should have known I was about to lead a rather “backwards” life the day I graduated from Sears Charm School…sounds kind of like an oxymoron, doesn’t it?  This was in Chattanooga in the late 60’s.  I was 14ish…walking around the room in white gloves with an etiquette book on my head…trying desperately not to drop it…what the significance of keeping the book on my head was..I had no idea.   I suppose some of that “poise” did come in handy years later when I had to walk down the “rue” at the Cannes Film Festival in 4″ heels with SEBASTIAN THE CRAB from “The Little Mermaid” movie as my escort.  By the end of the road, with the hem of my dress shredded by his claws/feet…I am sure I was the crabbiest.  

Anyhoo, after years of backstage passes, Hollywood premieres, limos to the Golden Globes and……THE OSCARS, was I ready trade in all those Balenciaga, Armani, Valentino and vintage Chanel gowns for, um, well, a beat up pair of overalls and a flannel shirt…you bet.  Ebay was about to have a heyday.

Unfortunately, I started my adventure before I started my blog..so let me bring you up to date…………..

I remember as a kid in Tennessee watching the show “The Beverly Hillbillies” and wondering what that life would be like…then I lived it.  Through a series of events..and husbands, I found myself married to a Hollywood movie executive, rubbing elbows with the stars, and living smack dab in the middle of Beverly Hills.  Harrison Ford was my buddy, Drew Barrymore was AT MY HOUSE for dinner (she doesn’t eat meat, garlic or mushrooms, so try to make a decent meal) , Sophia Loren made homemade spaghetti for us (barefoot in a Chanel suit)…by the way …Harrison’s favorite song is “sittin on the dock of the bay”…like I cared…which I did.  I kinda got caught up in the whole Hollywood life and lost touch with reality, my family and myself.   Anyhow, it was a long way and a long time from the catfish farm in Tennessee to the “Hills of Beverly”…this is a story about my journey back….to Tennessee, to my family and to me…in other words…Beverly Hillbillies…only backwards.

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