At first glance, this appears to be an image of the Muse that eventually inspired Stevie Nicks to go into her vagabond-gypsy/possible-witch musical phase. In reality, this is just a poignant study of a very sad woman who was unable to master the craft of Cat’s Cradle. She is on the verge of composing a tragic poem that will minutely detail the depths of her pain, but her wistful pensiveness is interrupted by a commotion coming from stage left.
Stevie Nicks, clattering on scene in that bohemian way she has, with gothic jewelry clanking: “You better stand back, girl. That’s MY look.”
Sylvia Plath: “Your look? I had that whole cooking mishap when you were only 14. You were barely old enough to have breasts, never mind a style.”
Stevie: “It doesn’t matter. I have a copyright on the image.”
Sylvia: “Really? I thought the only copyright you had concerned lines of white powder.”
Kurt Vonnegut, entering stage right: “Did someone say copyright? Those things can be really pivotal to the plot in darkly twisted fiction. Like this post. And like the fact that I published a book named Cat’s Cradle in 1963.”
Sylvia: “I remember that year well.”
Kurt: “Of course you do. It was your last one.”
Stevie: “I can’t wait for the convoluted plot to come back to my leather and lace. I’m very familiar with darkly twisted. I’m still trying to figure out who slept with whom in Fleetwood Mac, and I was there for a big chunk of that cluster fest. This is starting to get a bit surreal.”
Rhiannon, entering from… oh, who cares where, she just entered: “Please don’t associate me with Rihanna. I get that all the time. You folks don’t know what it’s like when people get confused about who performed a popular song.”
Harry Chapin, sitting in the audience: “Oh, I beg to differ. Half the people in the world know the lyrics to ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ but they have no idea who I am. Or was.” He looked at Sylvia. “I know a lot about unexpected departures. No offense intended.”
Sylvia: “None taken. Most of us artists have tortured souls and sometimes we make choices that others might not understand and-”
Kurt: “Okay, enough of that. Blah blah blah. Now, are there any more absurd obscurities that the writer is planning to toss our way? Personally, I would throw in at least another one.”
A spotlight comes to life and focuses on a corner of the stage, highlighting Betty Buckley in full Cats regalia: “Memory… turn your face to the moonlight…”
Kurt: “I just had a small orgasm. This is so awkwardly sublime.”
Rihanna, sitting next to Harry in the audience: “Not for me. I don’t understand anything that is going on right now.”
Harry: “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy your time in the limelight, bright young thing. Because there will come a day when future generations have no idea who you were or what you accomplished. Then you’ll have to depend on absurdly obscure writers banging out blog posts about what once was.”
Betty, still warbling: “…then a new life, will begin…”
Sylvia: “That’s really sweet. But seriously, can anybody show me how to make a cup and saucer with this annoying crucifix? Because none of this mess would have happened if I knew how to do it in the first place.”
Previously published in “Crusty Pie” and “Bonnywood Manor”. Slight changes made for this post. I realize this one got deep in the trenches of trivia, but this is a bouquet to a certain subset of fellow writers who remember when. Touch me, it’s so easy to leave me…
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Sadly, I have to admit to really wanting that hairdo and scarf.
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There was a time when I would have been right there with you. Now it just seems like too much effort… 😉
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The ensemble cast (save that Betty person (of whom I’ve NEVER heard and don’t want to), and that Rhianna person who is just a copy cat and can’t think of her own fabulous one word name) leads me down dark and twisted paths into the faded glow of street lamps on a dim twilight street of the soul. Harry would get that and write a beautiful ballad which will never EVER fade into obscurity with people who have some soul. Kurt the same. Sylvia I’m not as familiar with, her works being banned in Utah where ‘forward wimmen’ are routinely banned in schools and libraries throughout this allegedly great state. Stevie? Well I admit to spending a lot of my 20s wanting her style. Would have stolen it too, had my hair and cat’s cradle skills been up to the task…
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I think you might know Betty. She won a Tony Award for the original Broadway production of “Cats”. Most folks know her as the Mom on “Eight is Enough” back in the day, but she’s been in quite a few other things as well.
Harry and Kurt will never fade from the minds of people who actually have one.
Sylvia was banned in Utah? I don’t think that even happened in Oklahoma, which is saying something. My heart goes out to you.
I greatly admire Stevie as a person. She has a great soul. But I must admit that her singing voice is not one of my favorites. Does that make me a terrible person? As if I needed any more proof of that… 😉
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Nah. No judgment on judging Stevie’s alleged singing voice. I never admired it very much either actually. The only person (save Tina Turner) who gets to be that gravelly and still considered a singer is the late Janis Joplin. Lindsey where ARE you girl? Fleetwood needed YOUR voice… 🙂
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She’s purty as a picture. That look of winsomeness in her eye and heartburn in her breast. Written so lyrically. Champion stuff pilgrim.
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Champion stuff, is it? I will take that and run with it… 😉
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Well, as I’m sure you know, I appreciated every bit of trivia and am quite jealous. Kurt Vonnegut still hasn’t visited my blog, despite numerous invitations.
By the way, I looked up lovely Myrna Darby and read her sad tale. I wonder how many of those stories Hollywood has?
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I’ve been talking to Kurt about why he’s been so negligent with your invitations. Of course, he swore me to privacy, so I can’t say much, but I will reveal that it has something to do with a certain pot roast that did not satisfy him at summer camp.
As for Myrna, it IS a sad tale. And it makes me wonder how many other sad tales were never recorded about the discarded fallout of the Hollywood Machine…
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She does! She totally looks like Stevie!
Personally, I could never pull off the whole leather and lace bit. I’m actually not all that feminine. 😉
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Oh, I can pull off the leather and lace bit. But I’m actually not all that masculine… 😉
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Hahaha. 🙂
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