Bette: “At one point I cared, but then I sobered up. Now I just want to make sure that whatever is happening over there can’t be connected back to me in any way.”
Note: This is part of an on-going experiment at Bonnywood. Details found here.
P.S. And this wraps-up my fevered experiment wherein I’ve been scheduling future posts to keep folks entertained whilst I’m on vacation. The questionable goal of this lark has been a hope of inspiring you, Dear Reader, to sound off in the comments and help me jump-start older Past Imperfects from my “Crusty Pie” blog that haven’t been given the full Bonnywood treatment. For various reasons, all of these proffered snippets from the days of yore (twenty of them!) have stymied me on how I can proceed with a proper fleshing-out of the story. I don’t yet know what the results will be, but my fingers are crossed.
At this very moment, I’m in the wee hours of 09/15/21, even though this post I’m currently finagling will not appear until 09/24/21. We’ll be embarking on our sojourn to New Mexico shortly, bound for a locale lacking signal connections to the rest of the world. I may return to a cornucopia of story ideas, or I may return to tumbleweeds blowing in a vacant desert.
In any case, thank you for putting up with this mess. We’ll be returning to regular programming shortly…
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Enjoy your travels. I’m sure New Mexico will provide you with inspiration for future posts, if you can find any people in its vast open spaces.
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New Mexico always provides inspiration, especially the vastness and the lack of people. There’s something about reducing things to a minimum that maximizes my introspection…
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Bette: It may be unrelated, but I have this strange idea that in the future people will be ridiculed for smoking. I’ve heard tell that it stains one’s teeth for a start, but that doesn’t worry me none because I rarely bare my teeth when smiling anyway. When I smile. Not often. I’ve also heard that smoking turns one’s hair from a platinum shade to a dull brown that isn’t anywhere near as inspiring as having platinum…it might have something to do with the dye in the platinum hair scenario. It’s a mystery to me. Do I care? Not too much. Let me take another drag from this cigarette and check to see if my voice has gotten even more raspy, which I plan to use as a trademark if my career ever takes flight.
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To be fair, everybody smoked when Bette was queen. Everybody, even the doctors. Then again, morphine was freely available at your corner five-and-dime, so it was clear that nobody knew squat from a hole in the ground…
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‘First I smoke the Chesterfield, then I sit and get a poke from the spring that’s sprung through from the seat of the Chesterfield.* Damn spring is as loose as a goose. Here in Hollywood, on casting couch days, it’s not an unfamiliar feeling though.’
*For those not familiar with Canada-speak, Chesterfield is an older era term for sofa/couch/settee.
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Interestingly enough, Chesterfield was a couch-equivalent that was bandied about by certain older relatives in my Oklahoma childhood. Of course, because I naturally considered anyone over the age of 22 to be irreparably senile, I just assumed that they were confusing a cigarette brand with comfortable seating arrangements. Little did I know. And I still don’t…
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Hmmmmmm, you presented the perfect pic to end this experiment as it appears that Bette is staring out the window watching tumbleweeds blowing in a vacant desert.
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I move in mysterious ways… 😉
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Oops I haven’t sobered up after all and my back hump seems to be connected in some way to the couch and I can’t get up.
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Been there, done that, have the t-shirt to prove it…
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A month-long vacation! My, my!! And I’ve gotta say I admire your efforts in scheduling all these letters to us readers in a proper P.S-I-Love-You-Style. Cecelia Ahern would be proud.
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I have to say that pre-scheduling all of these posts proved to be a daunting challenge, more so than I ever expected. One doesn’t realize how labor-intensive it is until you try to do so. I was worn out by the time I got them all scheduled, and I needed the vacation even more…
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Happy holidays. I hope the experiment has delivered results.
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It certainly has delivered. Lots of intriguing nuggets for me to tinker with in the coming days…
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I hear Bette saying “Do I really need to sit this way? Can’t wardrobe just pad my chest or push the girls up somehow? And what is this mess they’ve plopped down in the middle? Am I a serving tray? If I’m a serving tray, let’s put something there that someone might actually want.
Oh, my neck is really starting to hurt. Where is that lovely young man with the strong hands? I need a neck massage…”
🤷🏼♀️
Hope the trip was grand! Looking forward to Tales of drunken fun and frolics. 💌
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Those were my exact thoughts as I contemplated the photo. Of course, as usually happens with my Bonnywood stories, the end result was nothing like what I meant to do when I sat down to compose. My mind goes where it wants and I just try to hang on for the ride.
The vacation was delicious and exhilarating, and I now have lots of ideas for future stories, none of which will turn out quite like I’m now envisioning. And that pleases me in a subversive way… 😉
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Have a wonderful vacation!
Also, fabulous photo of Bette D., even though she looks really uncomfortable.
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I really love this photo, as it encapsulate so many of Bette’s roles in a single image…
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Yes, you’re right – it does. I never thought of it that way.
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She looks as if she’s covertly checking the couch cushions for change…
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Hey, when the light bill is due, you do what you have to do…. 😉
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What is she looking at? Certainly not her own popularity figure on social media. She looks like she is thinking about something unappetizing which she wants to get out of as soon as possible.
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Perhaps she was looking for a way out of her movie contract? Bette was infamous for constantly fighting the studio heads over which movies she could make and which she couldn’t…
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