My Real Memoir
I’d always been in love with movies. I wanted with every fiber of my being to be Gene Kelly. To sing like him. To dance like him. And most of all, to kiss girls like him. Especially like he did Debbie Reynolds in Singin’ in the Rain.
My own leap to fame came when I wrote and starred in my first short play for the Sixth Grade Talent Show. I’m sure you’ve read about it. It was huge. After that, I knew I’d have to choose my projects carefully in order to maintain my A-list status.
Except it didn’t actually happen. I’d wimped out at the last minute. And now the onus was upon me to re-schedule my debut as a “star of stage and screen.” It would need to be truly special. And I would need the right leading lady. One I could kiss a lot.
Then one day in the public library I stumbled across a playscript adapted from the movie Tammy and the Bachelor, which had starred Debbie Reynolds. That was it! My next project would be a live production of Tammy and the Bachelor starring Debbie Reynolds and me in new a professional theatre–in my back yard! I scheduled a production meeting with BFF Jeff to plan how we would:
- Build a theatre in my back yard (which was just slightly larger than a bedspread)
- Get Debbie Reynolds to clear her schedule so she and I could rehearse. And kiss a lot.
You’ll be surprised to learn that it never happened. To be honest, I never even had Debbie’s phone number.
However, six years later…
I was in a rock band called The Daily Planet, and we were pretty freakin’ good. Good enough, in fact, to win a national talent search (what is it with me and talent shows?) and appear in an ABC music special with Aretha freakin’ Franklin!
A couple of months later, the show’s producer was hosting a charity event in his Beverly Hills back yard (which was just slightly larger than six or seven thousand bedspreads). “We ought to have live music!” he thought. But he only knew one band: The Daily Planet. So we got the gig.
Being middle class suburban kids, we’d played for very few famous people. How many? Let me think, oh, yeah, none. Pretty much everyone there was famous. In fact, we were the only people I’d never heard of. But the most luminous star of all was the event’s hostess, my old co-star, Debbie freakin’ Reynolds!
I was a bit surprised when Debbie failed to recognize me, even after she borrowed my microphone to tell everyone that the buffet was ready. But then she turned to me and said the words I’ll never forget, “Could you turn it down a little?”
Not even a glimmer of recognition. I instantly realized we were not going to be kissing a lot. Which was OK because:
1) She was kinda old—like, my mom’s age! (what the…?), and
2) She didn’t like my band.
There was a gaggle of young girls there, however, who absolutely adored us. They were led by a perky young brunette who insisted that we were not too loud, that we were, in fact, “perfect!” She and her homies stayed in front of the bandstand all night, dancing, singing along with us, arguing over which of us was “the cutest,” and getting our autographs on every unclaimed cocktail napkin in sight. In short, they made us feel like bigger stars than their parents!
Later, after most of the guests had left, my former flame, Debbie Reynolds, came up to the perky brunette, and said, “Time to go home, Carrie.”
Carrie Fisher blew me a kiss as her mother dragged her away.
A few years later, in a galaxy far away, I watched as a perky young brunette Princess Leia lit up the screen, and wondered, “Does she still have my autograph?” When my friends finally dragged me off, I blew two kisses at the screen: One for Princess Leia…
And one for her mom.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Mitch Teemley 
One of your best stories, Mitch. You made my morning!
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Thanks, Grant !
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Interesting!
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I so enjoyed this! *big, goofy grin plastered all over my face*
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;>)
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Well, just wow! I just learned that a local musician (sax and others), who plays somewhere several evenings a week–but also gives the news on our own WHO-NewsRadio (where Ronald Reagan used to broadcast)–also played for Aretha freakin’ Franklin in a 4th of July concert in Sioux City, Iowa. See, it happens in other places besides California! But your stories are the BEST!
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Thanks, Joy!
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What an awesome story! Loved it, Mitch!
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Thank you, Wynne!
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This is so funny and great. Thanks for sharing.
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My pleasure, Donna.
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Mitch you have done so many wonderful and exciting things I am slightly jealous lol.
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You took a star far, far away and brought her close. Cocktail napkin close. You never cease to surprise me with your stories.
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Thank you, Debi.
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WOW… great life story!
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Thanks, Leenda!
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Great story Mitch! When I was 10 in 77…I fell for Carrie…like half the guys in the world.
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What a fantastic story!
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What an amazing story! Thanks!
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I absolutely adored this post; it could fall under the category of nearly perfect! Absolutely relatable, and funny as hell. And just think … Debbie freakin’ Reynolds could have been your mother-in-law (in a galaxy far, far away!)! Bravo!! 👏🏼👏🏼💫
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;>) Thank you, Nancy.
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PS – If it’s ok with you I’d like to share this on my Facebook page called “Write Here”. May the force be with you! (And … cue the music!) 🌟
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Of course, Nancy. I’d be honored.
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Excellent! Check us out next time you’re on FB!
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Sure. You said the page is titled ‘Write Here’?
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A big fan of Star Wars here! I have books of it, as well.
And I was rooting for Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker when I didn’t know yet they’re siblings but realized that she’s great with Han Solo. I even cried when they were separated and Han Solo was frozen (I don’t know what right term to use 😓). Carrie IS so pretty! 🥰🥰🥰
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They’re a part of our lives, aren’t they?
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Very true! 😊
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What an amazing story! Your dream came true, just in an altered, more up-to-date way!
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Never got to kiss her though. Not that I wanted to once I saw how “old” she was — like 30-something!
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Absolutely ancient! LOL!
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What a fun story! But it’s a good thing you didn’t end up with Princess Leia. That poor woman had tons of problems—from what I’ve read (never knew her that well…).
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I love this story!
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Thank you, Jennie!
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You’re welcome, Mitch.
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Good
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