A delicious concoction of tasty morsels of thought, epiphany and general anger management

 
A Star Is Born

The sun shines brightly on this crisp winter morning. It is cold but not arctic and I can walk without the gloves that were a gift to me from former Screen Actors Guild president Richard Masur. I mean no offense to Richard Masur. Richard Masur is a dear friend of mine. I remember when, in days that have long since gone by, Richard Masur and I would visit Studio 54 and gain admittance with my world renown and his afro. While at the studio, Richard Masur would gaze longingly at Grace Jones as I was off in the basement, ingesting enough Aphetamines to kill a small Latino family. Richard Masur would then rip off a "Tango Hustle" that you'd sell your mother to be able to do, amid raucous cheering from an admiring crowd. Richard Masur would visit the "One Day At A Time" set and throw Chesse Doodles at a stoned, slack-jawed Mackenzie Phillips. If you do not know of the seminal 1970s half-hour sitcom, "One Day At A Time", do yourself a favor and watch one of the most poignant television shows of the 20th century. You will not regret it. I digress.

I am reminded of all this, as I look at my gloves, the gift of a dear friend upon the birth of my daughter. I remember it as though it were yesterday. Fighting ravaged French Indochina and I, the intrepid journalist, hopped a flight to Burma (it will always be Burma to me) as soon as I could to meet with UN Secretary General U Thant at his request. Mr. Thant was a slight man with fiery eyes that looked deep into your soul. I could tell immediately that he recognized my prowess as an international uniter of men. He was wise. We spoke at length about a great deal of world issues and played "Chase the Zebra" in his backyard. They are fast critters. Don't let the stripes fool you. I knew that my time with the Secretary General was well spent. I admired him greatly, for his wife was gorgeous and he was not. This is a feat greater than the settling of wars, an ugly dude scoring a hot lady.

While in Burma, I befriended a nubile young Asian woman. We dined on the local delicacies and we indulged in absinthe. Afterward, we met in passionate sexual congress for several hours and though I really didn't want to stick around, I managed to summon up the courage to remain by her side for another 30 minutes. She looked deep into me with probing dark eyes.

"Wolinetz, I am with child."
"I know."
"It is yours."
"I know."

I got up and left. In nine months, I returned to witness the birth of my child. My young Burmese concubine was a warrior, defeating the pain of her labor with copious epidurals. When all was said and done, I was a father. I reached to my face, like a man reaching to his face, and brushed a single tear from my cheek. The nurse cleaned my daughter and handed her to me. She was beautiful. There was now a woman on the planet that I loved platonically.

"What will you name her?" I was the nurse.
"Welcome. Welcome to the world, U Wolinetz."

posted by G.Wo at 6:43 AM