Movie stars and Dinosaurs

“I was a movie star once.”

“Ignore her. She’s trying out for a part in Jurassic World.”

“The oldest lady dinosaur in the flock?”

“Did dinosaurs come in flocks?”

“They came in herds-herbivores- or packs-carnivores. I’m surrounded by idiots. Shut up and eat your cracker. This is my story.”

“Pass the dip.”

“It was a hundred years ago. We were beautiful then.”

“This cracker is stale and the dip’s icky.”

“Columbia Pictures had blocked pesos in the Philippines, so they sent a flock of Hollywood types, a director, a darling starlit, a handsome guy who wore makeup in the day time and a couple of really weird scripts. I was a darling on the stage of the Manila Theater Guild and all guild members tried out for parts. I was cast as a singer.

Our set was a dive on the waterfront. I wore a black lace terno. Fitted to the knees and then flared, I loved it. Gorgeous sleeves. It was beautiful. It was me. It was mine.”

“Major production. Bring your own costume.”

“Yeah? Well, the night of first filming was big time.The entire  block around the joint was cordoned off. Yellow ribbons, cops galore. We arrived on the set in long black limousines. Glorious stars on a red carpet.  It was a dance hall and a bar, while bright white whirligig lights-the rage of olden days-spun and spattered as extras danced the night away on a cold hard solid concrete floor.

I think it must have taken twenty shots to get me through my big scene. I’m a terrible singer. But between takes I sat at a round table with the handsome Hollywood actor drinking coca cola laced with rum. My performance kept getting better and better. So I was told.

Between sacred move star land there was a  bar where commoners were corralled   behind a four-foot high concrete wall. But it wasn’t long before a tipsy scruffy groundling clambered over the wall and walked a crooked mile to our star-studded table.”

“I know who you are,” he blubbered  and began at the top of a list of famous names in the movie business. I shook my head. At the end of the list he slobbered in nasty anger, “Then who are you?”

“I’m Bettejo Dux,”I responded hiccuping with great dignity.

“Never heard of’ya,” he stumbled his way back to the wall and disappeared head first, ass over tea kettle, on there other side. I hoped he landed on his head.

“Isn’t that  pain in the neck?” My handsome companion said, continuing to rub my foot. Standing for hours holding up a mike does make your feet hurt. “Being accosted by creeps like that is part of the price we pay for fame.

“The price is too high.” I wobbled from the table took center stage and did a perfect take. All the extras  applauded. They could rest their feet.

I don’t like making movies. Being yelled at by a director with a bull horn is not healthy.


One Response

  1. Your a movie star! Are you going to edit for me? pretty please with sugar on top. Asked with a whisper, not a bull horn! ;D)


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