Had a great weekend working on the site with Gary. I am considering a producer's offer concerning a Home and Gardens Channel show I might co-host with a two time Super bowl Ring pro footballer. Now that would be quite a contrast to moi. Worked on a Bio Tale that is featured starting NOW on the main page. Off to see Dr. Angus McBryde this morning to X-ray the ankle and change the splint. Thinking about putting earnest money down Wednesday on a beautifully renovated Mountain Brook Townhouse built in 1925. Spectacular real estate deal and a gorgeous place to live atop Red Mountain with a view of Birmingham below. (Still have the California considerations and a real estate agent there.) We shall see.
Now to Madonna. I don't publicly speak often of my relationship to Ms Ciccone. We first met through a certain wonderful caustic lady comic whose name escapes me (it'll come to me soon) and Warren Beatty when Club Louie (a late night private dance club that the famous, late Herb Ritts rented for invited guests the first Friday of each month) back in 1989. I later worked with Warren and then Deb Mazar ----both close to M---- and we exchanged emails and I visited her Los Feliz home several times. When she married Guy Richie I was seduced into adopting Conchita, Rosita and Evita, Madonna's three Chihuahuas.
Miss M wanted to assure me that Evita was not rabid!
I do love the woman, but if she reads this (she's at the Paltrow's in NYC recovering from her SECOND fall from a horse) I hope LISTENS to what I have to say:
I grew up with horses. Trained in English equestrian (preferred western trail riding to showing but did both), owned two horses growing up and had my last ride in 2004, against my better judgement (and I paid a price). It was with friends on Shades Mountain at an upscale Appaloosa breeding ranch and both my horses (Bama and Apache) were Appaloosas. Had a nice trail ride through mountain trails on a frisky young mare and all went well until we were returning and Starburst saw the barn and surprised me--the experienced horseman (I thought, and WAS)-- and broke into a run up the hill at an angle and I held on until she jumped a small knoll and off I went soundly to the ground with a thud. I still have nerve damage in two fingers on my right hand and I was very lucky. In the South, Ladies traditionally put up the saddle at 50. Bones break so much easier and we must remember Chris Reeves. SAVE your daring for the stage---hell, in your case, THATS dangerous enough. Anyway, this is your second fall and I want you causing major trouble for decades to come. I KNOW you'll listen to me about as much as you would a teenage Manhattan cabbie, but I feel better for suggesting enjoying Lola, Rocco, and David and other kids mount the horses. And for God's sake, don't blame the paparazzi when you get thrown. No, not even if it's God's truth. Missed the tour, but look forward to seeing it when whoever you deal it out to gives it a showing. Just don't go breaking that tough but vulnerable neck of yours. Enough of that. I do adore you still!
Four more weeks and I get my walking boot! Ah, to be able put away these crutches forever. Orthopedic surgery (I've had SEVEN in my life) is no damn fun. (It's a damn miracle I'm ambulatory at all come to think of it.)
On a political note. GIVE OBAMA , angry folks, a break or at least keep the protest civil and not full of the ugly racial posters and names used by the Fox Network sponsored "Tea Party" over the weekend. We are hardly facing taxation without representation. I seem to remember an, uh..ELECTION recently. But do have a nice Monday all !
