Lulu, Slappy, Mother and Me

From a December 2005 diary:

Reading about Lulu Guinness and her amazing success with her elegantly whimsical handbags for some reason puts me in mind of a Fats Waller song. A period thing, I guess. In the Vanity Fair profile Mrs. Guinness emerges as a witty singular personality, confident from the start about her affinity for the glamour of a bygone era. As young as age 9 she knows who she is and trusts her instincts enough to let her creative impulses lead her to a happy (and lucrative) adult life.

Lulu Guinness, I salute you.

Lulu Guinness, rescue me.

I had Lulu's kind of confidence once. Didn't last long, sadly. If I'd been luckier in the gene pool lottery or if my parents had been simultaneously more mature and adventurous... i know. It's cheap and easy to blame mom and dad for your adult failures. Then again there is an argument to made for how your beginnings can seal--or at least strongly influence--your fate. Personally, I cringe when I remember how my mother--

Oh, hell. That is too easy.

But you know, my pre-adult life might have been happier and fuller if only my mother had had the wisdom, or the confidence, or both, to take advantage of certain unique opportunities that came her way.

Like the offer in the late 50's to be a straight man, er, woman, to Redd Foxx--or was it Slappy White?--when she was a barely-twenty-something nightclub dancer at the Club DeLisa; Mom was pretty, curvy and funny, an apparently rare combination.

Mom said she spurned the offer because she didn't want to have to deal with a reportedly pathologically jealous wife and also she suspected, not without some justification, that Mr. White's--or was it Mr. Foxx's?--interest in partnering her was not strictly professional. Under the circumstances I suppose I can understand Mother's disinclination to follow that one up.

And then there was the offer in the early 70's to move to Denmark as the guest of her coworker friend, N, who was returning to her homeland with her young son, A.

N assured my mom there would be plenty of room for all of us on the family estate, regaling her with all the cultural and educational opportunities for Joey and me; Mom said thanks, really, thank you--but, no.

When some years later Mother told me about all of this, I wanted to throttle her. I really did. She passed on great adventures for herself and the possibility of untold opportunities for her family. What was she thinking, turning all of that down? Where was her spirit?

But all my mother could see looming ahead was the stress and confusion of packing up and starting over and the challenges, the unknown difficulties, of navigating strange new worlds...

Typical. If someone had ever made such offers to me, I'd have... um...... Without hesitation, I'd've.... hmmm.

*sigh*