There I was. Me, on national TV.

My sorted and reckless past
When a senior in high school on some weekends I would catch the metro bus and ride a fair distance which included a transfer in downtown Los Angeles headed to Hollywood. About an hour trip traveling about 30-miles. I lived on the east side of L A and Hollywood, where my cousin lived was on the west side. There I would stay the weekend in his tiny studio apartment but walking about visiting some of the attractions. He lived a half block off Hollywood Boulevard which was an easy stroll to see some of the often-visited attractions. Grohman’s Chinese Theater, the Hollywood walk of Fame, Hollywood and Vine, etc. I would pass Vic Tanny’s health spa and muscle parlor with huge muscular men of a different orientation wearing tight athletic shorts lifting heavy weights inside the display window. Just a few doors down was Fredricks of Hollywood. A women’s apparel shop for women who knew no modesty. Then further down at the corner of Hollywood and Vine you could easily see the famed and distinctive round Capitol Record building. Frank Sinatra and Nat ‘King’ Cole recorded there.
On one weekday trip I was able to obtain tickets to see TV programs being performed and video recorded. One such TV program was Queen for a Day. Yes, Queen for a Day. I just wanted to see how they set up and video recorded the entire production. Never mind the content. It was the technical aspect I was interested in.
Then later that evening I went with my cousin to see how they performed and recorded the daytime drama Divorce Court at the ABC studios, just north of Hollywood Blvd. When time came the handlers chose a few of us to sit in the courtroom gallery. Others sat at a distance in bleachers. But anyway, my cousin and myself sat in the mock-up gallery and was told under no certain terms “do not ever look at the TV camera lens with the bright red light.” Always focus on the judge actor. So, a few days later and after school I saw my cousin and myself on national TV. There I sat on big time national television wearing a dark brown V-neck sweater over a white crew neck T-shirt. Looking like the Okie dork of the month. Please, fade to black.

Published by OkieMan

I come from a family who migrated from the parched red dirt Plaines of southern rural Oklahoma. Migrating to blue collar working class community of East Los Angeles. There is where I was born. I am Mr. Writermelon. I can only write what my grammar and spell checker allows. I am neither profound nor profane. Boy howdy! Send comment to: Mr.writermelon@gmail.com

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