I was spit out amongst the West Texas sandstorms in 1962. I remember sitting on my daddy’s lap every night as he watched the news and cracking his large knuckles one by one as images of the Vietnam War raged on… and on. This made me question the longevity of our world, so I was very glad to ease my tension with my humorous friends on Bewitched, The Brady Bunch, and Laverne & Shirley. Movie musicals also helped me to survive the craziness that raged within me. The Sound of Music and Grease were temporary distractions from the Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder that, at times, threatened to drown me in a vortex of emotion. When I wasn’t going to school or watching syndicated sitcoms, I was forced to help on our ranch and farm.
In the summer, my sister and I hoed cotton (“You were a Hoer,” a date once said to me) and in the fall, we tromped that same cotton. I hated such work then; I am glad for it today. In fact, there is much I miss about my West Texas roots — the people (their quirks and hilarity), the simple pleasures (the spectacle of a Texas thunderstorm or “thunder boomer” as my Mom would say), and, of course, the food (“real” Chicken Fried Steak, anyone? Melt-in-your-mouth-delicious). For these reasons, and more, I became a writer and an actress. Here are some “on set” photos: