Today was another one of those Golden ones…

I motored out to my Farmer’s Market in Santa Monica…..met all my wonderful farmers….my Asian lettuce lady born in Singapore…asked me WHAT I ate yesterday…I paused for a second and said “Salad of Course!!!!”…she smiled and said well I can’t remember what I ate…..

Mulberries are ending their season but Queen Anne Cherries are now in season…..

The day was so intoxicating rather than motoring home…I went to my normal bench overlooking Pacific Coast Highway and across the beach .. to the ocean …. a few white sails way out in the morning’s brilliant haze…..

to read my New York Times…..and then an article in The New Yorker about the “entitled” British writer Edward St Aubyn….who was raped by his father repeatedly at a very young age…..

when he told his mother….she gave no thought to the subject by merely saying “Me Too…”

he became a heroin addict…and lived poshly at the Pierre in NYC….with the millions he inherited from his grandmother….he has like most men bedded many women… with Jane Longman, a painter who posed for Lucian Freud … her mother was a bridesmaid at Queen Elizabeth’s wedding…..he had a son they name Lucian……..

earlier in the week I had read a fascinating biography of my wonderful Doctor’s father …

little did I know what a genius my dear Dr Conteas is ..as he discovered in 1994…a technique that rapidly determined if one had AIDS…reducing it from 3 weeks to 10 minutes and the cost from a thousand dollars to a few dollars…….

his father Nicholas wrote this book for his grandson Nicholas….it is quite mesmerizing as he came from fabulous Greek stock his father was from Mani Greece….a village in the mountains so hard to get to that the Turks and everyone gave up ever trying to take it over….but Nicholas was born in Illinois…..

if he had not been so honest he would have died a multi-millionaire……as he was constantly cheated by partners he trusted …as back then he believed as so many did…your word was your bond

There was a funny anecdote about my Doctor Chris….after the family moved to LA…and Chris was like 5…his dad talks how he was able to pull out the drawers in the kitchen to climb up to the shelves above the counter…and open them….and when his mother returned he was sitting on the Living Room couch…throwing flour EVERYWHERE…. saying “Look Mama..It is Snowing”…..

she still thinks there is flower somewhere embedded in the planks of that floor….

as a birthday gift…which was this Thursday May 28th …when I saw him Friday…I took a gift liquor bag…with a bag of flour in it…..he either laughed or was extremely disappointed in it……

as I walked down to the beach and along the cycling and pedestrian cement path …I thought of those entitled like St Aubyn and those NOT…like the ever so wise …. Nicholas Conteas…….

then came across the old Marion Davies Beach house that I have always wanted to see…as my first lover – Paul Millard was a close friend of hers….I truly thank the Annenbergs for sort of saving it…well saving it in the only realistic way in giving it to the public….the only thing left of the huge estate that William Randolph created for his mistress Marion…is what they call the “Guest House”…but in all truth must have been the maid’s quarters…..and I don’t think Marion ever set foot into it…..

But the ever so nice white docents…a man and a woman in their retired late 50’s…both big as Apple pies…emoting such sweetness… talked of what a Saint Marion was and how she helped WR design the house …(Bull S…)

…I so wish Paul and Marion had been around…but had they …Marion’s Chauf would have driven us…..

Paul said that when WR died his wife Millicent ( a very strong Catholic who did NOT believe in divorce) had Marion’s help at Marion’s house in BH…..(they were on WR’s salary)…sedate her so she WOULD not show up at his funeral…..(interesting but NONE of this is in Wikipedia)

Paul knew Marion later when she was married to “Capt. Brown”…they would appear across the street where we lived on Keith Ave in West Hollywood at Tony Duquette’s studio..where the old Norma and Constance Talmadge Black and White movies were filmed…

Tony…who was a fabulous artist…and sort of overpowering for me..I often would see his ass hanging out of some dumpster…as he created unbelievable works of art from trash…was the First recyclist .. he and his wonderful shy wife Beegle (a former student of Tony’s)……had a ballroom….the original Gigantic film stage with ever so high ceilings that Tony decorated with egg crates..(his maid fell through it when she was on the cat walk above the eggcarton ceiling )

.with a stage at one end of the room and a Grand staircase that descended at the other end of the room

….one night he had half naked black men holding flaming torcheres along the staircase…

Marion arrived with Capt Brown…and did the high kicks all the way down…her sable trailing her…..to be greeted by Tony, Beegle, Tallulah, and the stars of the day……

Later that night Marion was a bit inebriated and got into a verbal argument with the Captain…he got his pistol out and tried to shoot her…but missed as he was too drunk…where upon Marion flew over to Paul’s house on Norma Place where he lived at the time and where I met him the first time…surrounded by his Dali’s, his Tschaichev’s (sp?), his Leonor Fini’s……etc

When I returned from the beach I watched Charlie Rose’s show last night (5/30)….it is SOOO Excellent!!!

as he gives a retrospection of Maya Angelou……

WHAT a Talent….What a Brilliant woman….What a Voice…..it is like hearing an orchestra to listen to her…

he plays an interview he had with her years ago…you can’t help but laughing with her….when she talks about her grandmother weekly acting surprised at being asked to sing in church once again….

she talked about her being raped at 7 (I believe)….

which made me think of Aubyn’s being raped at the same age…

I cannot say he is not a very good writer..as his Melrose series is soo witty……so well written….but I was turned off by his son’s recent remark …when he was encountered with his father in the South of France dressed in Formal Attire ..as he said “Maybe there are things from one’s childhood we cannot escape. And dressing up like a real English gentleman on a beach is one of those things”

But Maya Angelou …who ended up with servants

Escaped her childhood and soared WAY above…

what touches me deeply is that she had bushels of Love for Everyone she encountered…no matter whom they were or where they came from…. .

She Carried the whole world in her pocket and CARED Deeply about humanity…….about…..all People from Transgendered to those woman abused in the Far reaches of the World ……

She is the TRUE Saint!!!!!!

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