The distributors sold the papers to the boys who collected from their customers and got to keep what they collected. Richard had one customer who never had to pay; he had a crush on the daughter and couldn't bring himself to ask her father for money. The man must have guessed what was happening. Oh well, daughters are expensive and a free paper is one of the small pay-backs he enjoyed.
Above is my husband today sixty-three years older in this picture than in his paperboy days. When I say today, I literally mean today. We are applying for visas to visit India and had our photos taken at Costco this morning. I think my husband is still cute and hasn't changed as much as you'd expect perhaps because he still rides a bicycle up and down the steep hills in our avocado grove. Maybe I'm prejudiced?
A few years ago, during a discussion about weird jobs we had as kids, my husband asked, "Did I ever tell you one of my paper route customer's was Liberace?" "What?" I replied in astonishment, "You were LIBERACE'S PAPERBOY? This changes everything!" All his other accomplishments faded to black and from then on - that's how I introduced him to people. "...and this is my husband Richard, who was LIBERACE'S PAPERBOY!"
|Richard remembers seeing the piano shaped pool|
When I googled Liberace, I read about an upcoming HBO movie about him, "Behind the Candelabra" to be aired in May, 2013. Can you imagine Michael Douglas in the role? And Matt Damon as his chauffeur, reputedly his lover?
I jest about introducing Richard as Liberace's paperboy. Depending on your point of view, an even more amusing job he had was a little later in his life, as a gas station attendant, gassing and oiling Johnny Cash's big black cadillac. Richard recalls Johnny Cash as friendly, nice to him and even passing out free tickets to his shows, ripping the tickets off a big roll he kept on the shelf in the back window of his car.
|..something like Johnny Cash's Caddie|
|I'm in the back in the flowered dress|
And because it's Superbowl weekend and the game is in New Orleans and I've been writing about celebrity encounters, I'm reminded of the above BONUS SS photo. It was 1972 and we were at Superbowl VI. The scene was Pat O'Brien's where, acting like dumb tourists, we were sucking down Hurricanes (note the incredibly tacky souvenir glasses). This photo must have been taken early in the evening while everyone was still more or less in decent condition as in above the table and not underneath it. Those rummy fruity drinks resulted in the most vicious hangovers I can remember; the kind where your hair itches and your brain sizzles in a ketonic soup. We dragged ourselves to the game, nursing those hangovers, sipping Bloody Mary's and then went out and did it all again.
New Orleans was full of politicians in the city for the big event. Earlier in the evening pictured, we'd eaten a very fine dinner at Antoine's where in a private room we saw John Dean, Erlichman, Haldeman and others of that era eating oysters together (almost wrote this up for last week). Later that night, Tip O'Neill, then majority whip, squeezed into the chair behind me. I can claim that I really did rub elbows with him; in fact, more than just elbows as we were as cramped as sardines in there. Much merry toasting took place, the Hurricanes kept coming and we sang and drank into the wee hours.
Put your newspaper down for a minute - set that crossword puzzle aside and cycle over to Sepia Saturday for more interesting stories.