A Legend in His Own Mind-27

October, 1983

Dear Lázaro,

Time rolled on and this crazy scenario with this rather odd theatre family has come to a rather tumultuous finale.

Buffo invited me to a penthouse to discuss the choreography for the following show. It was still six months away but he said he liked to plan ahead.

He told me he was housesitting a penthouse overlooking Biscayne Bay for a friend that had just been deported. He didn't want to meet me at his house because Arpeggia disapproved of "American" music. He didn't want her negative influences disturbing us. He asked me not to tell anyone about this penthouse because it was the perfect party place and then everyone would want to go there.

When I get there he tells me that he just came from an interview with some producers who are developing a sitcom a la "¿Qué Pasa, U.S.A?" and they want him for the starring role.

Remember when we were in high school, “¿Qué Pasa, U.S.A.?” was the big bi-lingual hit on PBS about the Cuban-American family in Miami? Remember it made a star out of Steven Bauer?

So he says to me, "As a matter of fact, there's a part of the young Anglicized son that would be perfect for you. I'm going to suggest you for it but first I need some information."

"I can bring a picture and resumé to the theatre tomorrow," I said all excited.

He said "No, no. I have all that. It's for the costumer. They would need your measurements."

I told him I didn't know them off hand and he said, "No problem."

He dashes into the bedroom and comes out with a tape measure. He then proceeds to measure me. Then he keeps insisting that I take off my shirt.

You know that I don't do that. If I had your muscular build I wouldn't mind, but with my little boy chest there is just no way. I think the only way I managed in "Queen's Reich" is 'cause the dancing took my mind off my slim build.

He kept insisting. He said that he couldn't believe that I, who was always bitching about the heat in Miami, could be in this hothouse.

I politely refused.

He stripped…down to a black and white striped bikini brief with his pot belly hanging over the crotch. Now you've got to picture this scene. I'm sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with the costume designs for the dance numbers and he's perched up on the couch, knees tucked under his butt, pot belly and pelvis thrust out in the forefront looking at me with beads of sweat rolling out of his orange Afro. It was like a porno starring Ronald McDonald.

I discussed the songs that I wanted and he discussed the costumes. All of a sudden he leaps from the couch, puts his hands on the coffee table and stares me right in the eyes.

"I never noticed your contact lenses. They're huge!" he says to me.

I explained to him that I have a flat cornea so I need these special spherical lenses that make up for the curvature that my eye doesn't have. That's why you can see the rim of them around my irises.

He told me to take the sketches home and work on some ideas.

Next day, Bambi is in my dressing room ready for a dramatic denouement.

"I thought you were my friend!" she says all teary eyed.

I told her, "I am your friend."

"Friends don't keep secrets from each other. Why didn't you tell me you went to Daddy's penthouse last night?"

I told her that he asked me not to tell anyone 'cause it's not his.

"It's his! He bought it as his escape from Mom."

I was shocked. I told her that I don't betray confidences. "He said not to tell anyone and I didn't"

"I'm not just anyone," she says very defensively

I told her that he didn't specify, but she wanted to know what happened.

So I told her we discussed the dance numbers for the next show.

"And?"

"And when I finished discussing them I left."

"Look, I don't mean to pry, but I love my Daddy and I want him to be comfortable. I know how he is about his things. Tell me, was there a TV set in his bedroom?"

I thought that was an odd question but I told her that I didn't know 'cause I never went to his bedroom.

"Well, Fausto's been to his bedroom."

Now I'm getting upset. I told her to ask Fausto about the TV. I didn't know.

This was getting very strange. What was she trying to find out? If I slept with her father? Please, I would turn straight first. Did he call me up there for a big seduction scene? If he did, I must have missed it. Did he try that on Fausto? ‘Cause he told me he was straight. Bambi even accused him of the possibility of having gotten her pregnant. Now he’s giving another meaning to “Dancing the Worm.” I didn't know what was going on.

Then at the end of the day, when Arpeggia was handing out the paychecks, she thanks me for reminding Buffo about his interview with Ibis.

"He used to have me to do those things for him but I'm glad he's found you."

Now I know my Spanish is pathetic and l lose a lot of things in the translation, but I think she's broadcasting this loud and clear. And I still don't know what she's talking about. Ibis has a talk show on a local cable station and Buffo invited me to go with him to publicize the show. Then he asked me to call him and remind him.

I don't know anything. Except the facts. Buffo announced that he was changing shows in two weeks. He told me that my choreography would be used for the big extravaganza that he’s planning after he comes back from having his eyes done. Then he handed out the scripts. Sugar had a solo belly dancing number. Fausto and Candy were doing a break dancing number with a kid in a gorilla suit. And where was the lead dancer and choreographer? Acting, in Spanish, in one of his skits playing the Indian Rubber Man in a blue uni-tard and a dragon mask.

All of a sudden I felt like Neely O'Hara in "Valley of the Dolls." When Helen Lawson cuts all her songs. I have a run of the show contract and until then I will be in this show in whatever capacity. I just told Pablo to strike my name from the program as choreographer. I really had nothing to do with those numbers.

A Legend in His Own Mind-16

January, 1982

Dear Lázaro,

You're not the only one living out a dream. I have just fulfilled one of my childhood fantasies.

I am doing this movie called "One from the Heart" at Zoetrope Studios. Francis Ford Coppola owns this. You know, the guy who did "The Godfather?" Anyway, I'm part of their stock company. It is such a thrill to drive through those studio gates and give my name to the security guard. I feel like such a movie star.

I'm actually an extra. A glorified extra. I play a cop on the beat. Such an incredible thrill. Megan and I are in awe of the whole thing.

We were sitting down watching the rushes and in front of us were Warren Beatty and George Burns. And the movie stars Nastassja Kinski and Teri Garr. Oh and Raul Julia. He is so nice, let me tell you. I guess he noticed that I'm always trying to get into a shot as best I can, so he told Mr. Coppola that since he's madly in love with the lady in the shop, maybe he can get on top of those stone garbage cans on the street corner and do a little dance. Then the cop on the beat(that's me, in case you forgot) could come over, tap his nightstick on the can and ask him to get off. All of that to give me more camera time. What an incredible guy he is.

Come Oscar night, he’s the first one I thank.

They gave a party on Friday night and I'm dancing with Megan. I'm making sure that she stays vertical the whole time. You will never believe who approached us to tell us how well we danced? Gene Kelly! I thought I had died and gone to heaven. That man is my idol. I have watched "Anchors Aweigh" a zillion times. I mean he is dance. That's it! There's nobody else. And he's telling me I dance well. Wowee Wow wow! Then he tells me that he needs a couple of more dancers for the movie. Megan and I started on Monday.

I AM BEING CHOREOGRAPHED BY GENE KELLY! I cannot believe it! You know I could die right now and you could put that on my tombstone. My epitaph. THIS IS THE ONLY MOVE NOT CHOREOGRAPHED BY GENE KELLY!

The man who danced with Garland in "For Me and My Gal." The man who did "Singin' in the Rain." Who directed Streisand in "Hello Dolly." He was choreographing me...and about fifty others but who cares. He was choreographing me.

After one of the rehearsals this leggy blonde approaches me. She wants to know what Gene is like. (We’re on a first name basis now) I recognized her. She's a Roller Derby skater for the Los Angeles Cultists

She says to me, "Yes I'm with the Cults but don't say it too loudly 'cause people in the industry think that all Roller Derby women are lesbians."

Not Raquel Welch in "Kansas City Bomber."

Anyway she invited me to their training center in Pico-Rivera. That was another thrill. After all those pseudo derby games we would play in the courtyard. Skating around the green chains that encircled the patch of grass that stood for a lawn; I was now actually on the banked track. The same track we saw at all those championships at Madison Square Garden. Remember how Abuela hated B.J. Petersen? She would scream, "Kill her! Rip her eyes out!"

Well guess what happened? They're in need of a filler skater and I got offered the job. I'm getting whupped up and down that track and loving every minute of it. Now I know how Raquel felt.

February, 1982

Dear Lázaro,

My non-existent romance with Gary is surely up in flames now. He's moving to Palm Springs. He said he got a great job offer. I'm going to miss him incredibly. I mean technically he was my first.

At least I have work to get my mind off of him. I'm doing another extra bit with Samoa. We're playing party guests at a fancy ball honoring Patricia Neal. The master of ceremonies is Rock Hudson. I had to take a peek at him. I mean that's the man who almost impugned Doris Day's virginity. Well guess what? That big, powerful chest is actually his belly. Once they put this girdle on him it gets all pulled up. Movie magic!

Samoa is enthralling all the other extras at our table with her dietary secrets. She can eat anything she wants for breakfast, and Anything she wants for lunch and ANYTHING she wants for dinner and then at precisely twelve midnight she drinks a glass of hot water with lemon and it washes away the pounds. She claims to lose six pounds a day this way. She already weighs forty pounds with wet blue jeans on. At this rate she'd disappear in a week.

I also got to do another movie. It's called "Night Shift." It stars Henry Winkler and is directed by Ron Howard. I’m actually in the same room with The Fonz and Richie Cunnnigham. There's also this very funny guy named Michael Keaton that I've never heard of.

Anyway it's a disco scene and I'm dancing with the dancers from Solid Gold. We're doing a bump and grind to Skyy's "Call Me." You know that song about the woman who tells her best friend's boyfriend to give her a call and then supplies him with a dime?

I was wearing gold shoes, white satin pants, a turquoise glitter shirt and a peach lamé vest. I was a disco peacock.

I loved it. I was partnered with Darcelle. You know the beautiful Black girl from the show with all the hair? It was real difficult to do because for recording purposes we had to dance without music. I mean they played the song so we could get the rhythm but when it came time to actually filming the scene we had to do it in silence so that the music wouldn't drown out the dialogue.

It was really neat. Mr. Winkler doesn't act like Fonzie at all. He's actually very nice and polite. And that new guy, Keaton, kept everybody in stitches. I think he's going to be real big one day.

Don took me to San Francisco for the Gay Pride Weekend. Absolutely unbelievable. I didn't know that many gay people existed. It felt so incredibly powerful to be everywhere like that. To actually be the majority.

And San Francisco was the Emerald City. What a breathtaking place. These quaint houses painted bright colors. Those hilly streets where some of the sidewalks are actually steps. The weather is spectacular. Always nice and cool and no humidity.

We were at a bar in the Castro district (the gay neighborhood although in San Francisco that's kind of an oxymoron). Don, of course, did his little disappearing act and I stood around the piano. They were playing show tunes show by show. During the "Flower Drum Song" section when this beer- bellied biker with a devil tattooed on his shoulder began to do "I Enjoy Being a Girl,” an old man dressed in a tuxedo with the most shining silver hair I had ever seen approached me.

He said to me, "My Lear jet is parked at San Francisco airport and if you say the word I will fly us to Paris for dinner."

I was shocked. I didn't know if he was real or not. I politely refused. I mean can you imagine what he would demand from me after dinner? I couldn't. It would be like dating my grandfather.

Don's tour of The Emerald City continued. Next came this bar where the walls were full of metallic things that looked like car fenders. I noticed arms and legs coming out of those fenders. At the risk of incurring Don's wrath, I asked him what that was? He told me the walls were really full of cubicles for the guys to have sex in. It looked like something out of Dante's Inferno.

By the way, did the news get to you guys over there in Lebanon about the mysterious gay cancer? Probably not. Anyway, it's all over the news here. There seems to be some weird form of skin cancer that has affected a few young gay men in the San Francisco area. How does a disease know you're gay? That's weird, don't you think?

Anyway, people are speculating that it came from using poppers. Something I've never understood. I've been on the dance floor when some guys were opening those things and it smelled like ammonia. It was like being stuck in the bathroom after one of Mami's cleaning frenzies.

Other people say it's only affecting guys who sleep around a lot. It's weird, though. What's a lot? Look at that club with the holes in the walls. Is that considered a lot?

A Legend in His Own Mind-15

November, 1981

Dear Lázaro,

I hope you're not in a foxhole when you read this. I don't want to be responsible for you blowing up a body part or something. I have been going to Sunday services at church.

It's not what you think though. Johnna needs me to drive her to the Valley so she can teach Sunday school. This is not a Catholic Church either...it's called Science of Mind. It's really trippy. No fire and brimstone. No guilt! Everything is basically centered around you. You are the master of your own destiny. They had me. Almost.

In the middle of the preacher's sermon he said something about going to a mountaintop to commit suicide and if you jumped off the cliff, but were really, truly sorry on your way down, God would send a couple of angels to pick you up and place you back on that cliff. Somehow that's not a theory I would like to test. Know what I mean?

Johnna is like that, though. Before she met Merrick she was married. And her husband told her that he's going into the next room to blow his brains out. You know what she did? Absolutely nothing! She decided that if he had chosen that path for himself, she could not stand in the way of his destiny. Do you believe that?

Another time this guy approached her in a parking lot to mug her and she ended up giving him her car because he obviously needed the money more than she if he was able to commit such actions. That's how I ended up driving her.

She's really sweet though. She wants to start an Adopt-a-Mugger program. This way citizens who are better off can give money to criminals before they commit the crime. That way they don't have to be punished for it and they will have hope that things will get better.

She works at a piano bar called The Tam 'O' Shantern Inn. Gary and I have gone to see her a couple of times. She always plays "Night and Day" when we come in. She thinks there's something between us. I could only hope. I'm still his "young and confused" friend. Let me tell you, it can get very frustrating. That's the one guy I want to be with and I am not allowed to.

Perfect example. He was late for the show the other day so I went to his house. He only lives a few blocks away from the studio. I got there and he was asleep wearing nothing but purple bikini briefs. I tried to be professional. After all, I was there as an envoy from the show. But he looked so cute.

I tried to wake him to no avail. When I smelled his breath I realized he must be drunk. I didn't understand that. He said he was a recovered alcoholic. All I know is when I picked him up and he fell against my body, I got so turned on that it was visible. If he hadn’t been unconscious I would have shown him how young and confused I really am.

But he was! So I took him to the shower and revived him. I wonder what made him fall off the wagon? I didn't feel right asking. I didn't want him to think I was prying.

December, 1981

Hey Butch Buddy,

Was that macho enough? I was very upset when you told me that you burn my letters after you read them. Knowing where you're at, I think I understand. You don't want your manly pals reading about my unconventional life.

Well go find a match 'cause here comes more unconventionality.

There's this camera operator named Lithium. She had an acid flashback while taping and decided that the camera was a machine gun. She started rat-tat-tatting away in the middle of a scene. They should've put the other two cameras on her. It probably would have been a better show.

Anyway she had been kicked out of the back of the bar where she had been staying. I felt bad for her so she spent that night at my house. The next day she asked me to drive her to Hollywood to meet some friends.

When I got to these guys' apartment I thought I was the one having the acid flashback. Two skinny bare-chested blond guys with their hair pulled back into ponytails greeted me at the door. The apartment was wallpapered with posters of Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and The Doors. There was a color wheel next to the lamp. It bathed the room in a psychedelic light. And of course, the apartment reeked of pot. Cheech and Chong would have been proud.

Then she asked me to drive her to the supermarket. She goes to the frozen food section, opens her blouse and starts to stick steaks inside her bra. I'm freaking out. I'm with her. Technically wouldn't that make me her accomplice?

Can you imagine being sent to Alcatraz and bunking with Bubba the serial killer; and Bubba asking me, "So what did you do kid?"

"Oh I helped a girl steal frozen hamburger from an Alpha Beta."

I would have been passed around that jail more often than that porcelain bong at the Valley party.

I was so glad when I finally took her back to the apartment. The two guys were sitting on an Oriental rug singing along to Jefferson Airplane's "Need Somebody to Love."

I drop Lithium and her frozen contraband off. I'm out of there. As I'm getting into my car a man approaches me and says if he gives me money for gas could I drive him and his old lady somewhere?

In comes this emaciated woman in hip-hugging bell-bottoms and a tie-dyed T-shirt and flops into the backseat of my car. I'm shocked. I was expecting his mother.

He gives me the address to a methadone clinic in Redondo Beach. I spent the major portion of the day driving two recovering junkies through the greater Los Angeles area.

To completely round off my day, I was in Megan's apartment. She told me to help her with her lines. Well, she took me to her bedroom 'cause the light was better in there and began to strip. Let me tell you, I had never been that close to a vagina in my life and now I knew why. As if psychologically traumatizing me wasn't enough, she proceeded to have oral sex with me. She kept grinding her teeth like a weed eater. All the while her cat would keep bouncing up and down on my lap. I don't know what scared me more....her biting it off or her cat shredding it to pieces. It was a moot point anyway. 'Cause the sucker shrank. I swear running naked in the middle of winter over our rooftops wouldn't have made it that small.

I guess she got tired of searching for it 'cause she gave up. Then Dudley walks in. Maybe I'm not hip enough, but how do I explain to this man how I ended up on his bed with his cat covering my privates while his naked wife was attached to my kneecap?

He said hello and began to take off his clothes. This apartment was like a nudist colony. Check your clothes at the door.

Now I don't know what was worse. Her or his teeny tiny pink penis. It looked like a piece of Bazooka bubble gum that had been stretched out of shape. I think I needed to leave. I grabbed my clothes and ran out. I got dressed in their laundry room. I figured if anybody came in I would tell them that I was washing the only clothes I own.

I was at a party that Slovak gave. He was celebrating the fact that he just finished a job as a stunt man for, "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Well Dudley goes up to Slovak's mother and informs her that Megan and I are both his lovers. I was so embarrassed. Then I realized that Slovak's mother spoke no English. Then I got angry. The nerve of that guy. What if reporters for the Enquirer were lurking around? I heard they camp out on people’s lawns.

I should ship him over to you. You'd take care of him for me. You were always there to protect me.