A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” – Oscar Wild

Mr. Wild.  What an inspiration.  He knew I was going to attempt the impossible decades before I was even born!


This is Day 3 – On the road to the White House

THE WRITING – Ah, the many, many road blocks to getting ones best selling novels completed.

THE POLO LOUNGE – Today’s distraction came in the form of an invitation to have lunch at the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel.   Of course I quickly abandoned any thoughts of President Obama or my novel and I accepted, as I hadn’t been to the Beverly Hills Hotel since I won a Women in Film Scholarship for Best Graduate Screenwriter at their annual Lucy banquet too many years ago.  I LOVE the Beverly Hills hotel and have since decided I must do the Polo Lounge more often.

The Polo Lounge is famously named after the celebrities who would congregate on the veranda after polo matches in the early years of Hollywood.   This is the place where Marlene Dietrich relaxed at the bar  and the gorgeous Raquel Welch was discovered while swimming in the pool and Sammie Davis Jr.  hung out with the Rat Pat smoking Cuban cigars.

My friend, a marketing exec at Disney, picked me up and we whisked off to the hotel where she valeted.  On the way in, we passed Lionel Richie.  It happened in an instant, as most important moments in life do, like getting mugged or losing that parking space by a half a second to the soccer mom in the blue mini van.  I was so bummed that I hadn’t been a few feet back, because if I had, I would have had time to collect myself and make his day.  I’m sure Mr. Richie would have loved my rendition of “Say you, say me.  Say it for always,” or my version of “Dancing on the ceiling.”

Anyways, the highlight of the day, wasn’t so much the food or seeing Reese Witherspoon of Legally Blonde fame – who in my humble opinion was withering away, as skinny as a spoon, thus her last name but who am I? – no, the movie star sighting was nothing compared to the joy I got from being able to use my much needed White House etiquette skills gleaned from youtube.  I sat down and the first thing I did, according to my buddy, the youtube etiquette lady Nancy Mitchell, was take my napkin HALF FOLDED and I carefully laid it across my lap with the fold against my waist just like my new best friend Nancy had instructed.  To watch you have to doubleclick and it will take you to youtube.

I was prudent enough to check in with my girl Nancy – who lives in D.C. close to the President – before I went to lunch, but when I looked around the restaurant, imagine my horror when I spied all the other uncouth pretentious creatures with their FULL NAPKINS completely spread out across their laps in a blatant display of their utter lack of breeding! I gasped.

And then I smiled.

I knew Nancy would be proud of me.  After all, here I was, being treated to a fifty-dollar lunch, when I only had fifty-dollars in the bank, yet I was going places.  I had etiquette.  I had youtube and my novel and future trip to the White House, where I would be properly equipped to mix and mingle with the President and First Lady due to my proper youtube etiquette training.

Anyhoo, for lunch, I nibbled on the basket of thin bread crisps, and ordered a salmon sandwich with diet mashed potatoes, but to my chagrin the potatoes were cold.  That just wouldn’t do!  I smiled and politely noted the issue of my cold, expensive mashed potatoes, and the waitress promptly took them away with an apology, and I smiled again, hoping the chef wouldn’t get offended and spit on them before he sent them back to the table.



Distraction #2.  Wendy was talking about Valentine’s Day and first kisses.  She said she didn’t remember hers.  Well, I remember mine.  I won’t say his name – for reasons you’ll soon discover –  but I remember it like yesterday.   It was in the trail on the way to Aloha store and I was about 10 years old and I think it was summer.  But anyhoo, I remember having a HUGE crush and I felt all tingly and he kissed me and…YUCK!  IT WAS A SPITTY SLOPPY SMELLLLLLY kiss.  SMELLY?  WHY DID HIS SPIT SMELL?  I about gagged and sought solace in a Kit Kat bar that he bought me, which kind of made up for the smelly spit.  At any rate, I don’t think it was that great for him either, because I saw him twenty-years later and he was gay.  🙂


In the words of Mr. Wild I see the dawn, when no one else can, I see the President and First Lady, smiling from ear to ear, having read my historical fiction novel, where the unlikely hero, who was once the most famous man at the turn of the 19th century, he too made it to the White House.  There are so many interlocking connecting firsts to this unfolding saga and I will keep you apprised of each scintillating detail as the tale continues to be spun.