Christopher F Reidy
Christopher Reidy
  • Home
  • Blog
  • 83 In the Shade
  • Artwork
  • Videos
  • Writing
  • Contact
  • Product Information

CFR BLOG PAGE

The thoughts & Musings of Christopher F. Reidy*

NOTE: Apparently this webpage has some glitches. It tends to randomly switch out visual material.  Why?  Don't ask me.  So, if a pic doesn't match the text...it doesn't!  Rest assured I am trying to amend this problem.  When I get around to it.

*(may contain misuse of apostrophes, miss spellings, overabundance of semi-colons,  wrong word usage, etc.
Please pardon our appearance while we create a new blog experience for you!)

​ALSO: 
Please find a complete index of blog posts on the homepage, for your convenience!

AND YET ANOTHER NOTE:
The visual switcheroos on these blogs have reached a point where there's no way I can correct them all, so I'm just going to leave them be.  If they don't match the text, just think of them as whimsical funsies decorating the text.  I will continue to supply pictures; but I cannot guarantee their context: much like my mind.
Thank you for your patience!

A FURTHER NOTE:
I try to keep this website relatively free of anything truly morally reprehensible or obscene.  However, in the pursuit of honesty; I will be quite frank about sexuality; as I feel one should be.  To  wit: this website is not for children.  It is decidedly "adult"; although not necessarily not "childish."  I do not feel it is suitable, in some instances, for anyone below the age of 17.  Or maybe a very mature 16...or 15 even.  
THIS WEBSITE IS RATED: PG-15

Product Information

My Dinner With Farrah

1/17/2022

0 Comments

 
This never actually happened and any factual inaccuracies about Ms. Fawcett's life are fantastical.*
Picture
So, Farrah called me one Saturday and said, "Chris, we need to talk..."
"Oh yeah, I promised I'd write a blog about you..."
​"What could you possibly have to say about me that hasn't already been covered on E! Entertainment television and in the pages of Rona Barrett's Gossip magazine?"
Picture
"Well," I responded to her, "I could ask you who that kid is; and if it's a boy or a girl because I really can't tell..."
"I think that's Lee Majors' daughter..."
"You think?"
"That was a long time ago.  It was the '70's--"
"But--"
"Look, I don't want to talk about him.  I want to talk about you."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I'm tired of talking about me."
"But--"
"Look, just meet me at Kate Mantilini's in an hour.  Bring your skateboard."
"I don't have a skateboard."
"You can borrow my roller skates."
"Didn't Kate Mantilini's close like ten years ago?"
"Just use your imagination Chris; or that special vaping pen that just arrived at your door.  Bye!"
There was a knock at the door. I went to it and found an unmarked box on the stoop.  I brought the box into the house and opened it.  Inside was a vaping pen with a note attached: "Drink Me!"  So, I opened the pen and drank the vape juice.
The next thing I knew, I was on the roof of the Capitol Records building wearing nothing but a Speedo and a pair of roller skates.  A Roller Boogie party was in progress, hosted by Cher.
Picture
After doing a couple disco 'rounds I pulled Cher aside.
"Where's Farrah?" I asked.  I took a drag on my vape pen and let out a huge phat cloud that floated past the spire.
"What is that?" Cher asked, more interested in the vape pen than my query. "Is that like a mini-hookah?  Let me try that!"  
I handed her the pen and she took a drag.  "Wow!  Bubble gum!"
"Cher," I said, "I've got to get to Kate Mantilini's.  Farrah's waiting for me--"
"Can I come?"
"Sure," I said, not so sure, "I guess..."
"Let's take the short cut--"
"What short cut?"
"The Rain-blow Bridge Express!"  She produced a vial of pink powder with a tag that said,"Sniff Me."  We both took a toot and then we were racing across a giant sequined over-pass, headed West.
So, over the bridge at light speed to Los Hillios de Beverly.  We took the exit ramp at million miles an hour and then Cher was asking the valet to park our roller skates.  "That's okay," a young Tom Selleck smiled, "you can wear them in..."
The hostess, a young Connie Chung, greeted us with menus.  "Right this way, Miss Fawcett is waiting for you..."
"Uhhm, could I get a jacket or something?  I feel a little under-dressed..."
"Oh, you're fine," Connie said, "we're a very laid back establishment!"
"Well, I don't want chest hair getting in my soup..."
"Oh, okay, I think I might have something in the coat-check..."
She returned with a full-length fur coat with a train, marabou trim and elaborate crystal bead work.  "Mr. Liberace left this behind last week."  I put on the coat and Connie escorted us to the table.  Farrah looked up from a Pink Lady and tossed her hair.
"Finally..."
Picture
I pulled out Cher's chair.
"Oh, a gentleman!" 
She sat and began looking over the menu.
"Well, don't say 'Hi' or anything, Cher--"
"Oh, hi Farrah.  Sorry, I'm just really hungry. Roller Boogie really takes it out of you. Do they have waffles here?"
Picture
"No," Farrah said, "but they have French toast; however breakfast is over."
Cher chuckled.  "I'm Cher, bitch.  And why are you being so bitchy Farrah?  What's the problem?"
"They cancelled Farrah Shampoo, darn it!"
"Girl, how many shampoos have you pushed, anyways?"
Picture
Before Farrah could reply, however, Pink Lady and Jeff passed by the table and did a number.
"Now that's entertainment!" Cher proclaimed.  "Hey, Farrah, remember that time you were on my show and we did that bit about being mannequins?"
Farrah looked into space. "No...no, I don't remember..."
"Well, let me refresh your memory..." Cher removed a crystal ball from her purse and we all gazed into it:
"Now that's entertainment!" I cried.
The waiter came and took our drink orders.
"I'll have a grasshopper, please." I said.
"Another Pink Lady for me," Farrah sighed.
"A bottle of Cristal," Cher chirped.
The waiter, a young Tom Selleck, lifted his head from his pad.  "We're out of that Miss Cher--"
"Find some."
"Very good, Ms. Cher"
"And make sure it's nice and cold."
He departed and Farrah looked into space again.
"He seems really familiar..."
"You were in Myra Breckenridge together.  And a Dubonnet commercial."
"What's Dubonnet?"
"I'm not sure," I replied.  We consulted the crystal ball again:
Farrah frowned.  "I'm not a little old lady!  And who's 'Myra Breckinridge'?"
Cher shrugged. 
​"Well,"  I 'splained, "Myra Breckinridge is a character from a book that was made into a movie starring Raquel Welch.  You and Tom were both in it, Farrah.  Along with Mae West and Rex Reed--"
"The movie critic?" Cher asked.  I nodded.  "Who the hell would want to see him in a movie?"  I shrugged now.
"I don't remember..." 
​Farrah was like, totally spacing out, like her character Holly in Logan's Run.
"Think Farrah," I implored, "think hard!  It was 1970.  You'd only been in Hollywood for two years...you were on The Dating Game​!"
"What was the movie about?" Farrah said, her lip trembling.
"Rex Reed plays this guy named Myron who gets a sex change and turns into Raquel Welch--"
"Okay," Cher said, "stop right there.  That is idiotic."
"I remember now..." Farrah said, downing the remainder of her Pink Lady, "...yes, I think I remember now...there was a camera and Tom Selleck was there, and John Huston and the lady from 1 Million Years B.C., and David Cassidy..."
"No, Farrah, that was when you were on The Partridge Family..."
"Yes, that's right...you see, we all took a vow that we would never talk about Myra Breckinridge again.  Like it never happened at all..."
Tom Selleck, our waiter, returned.
"Do I know you?" he asked Farrah.
"No.  Not in the least."
"Very Good miss person I don't know." He proceeded to open the champagne bottle and fill Cher's glass. "May I take your orders now?"
He looked at me.  I looked at Farrah.  "Gee, I forgot my wallet..."
Farrah reached in her purse and produced a large wad of Monopoly money.  "Don't worry Chris, it's on me."
"Ladies first!" I enthused.
Picture
Cher ordered the French toast (no questions asked) with boysenberry syrup.
Farrah ordered granola with wheat germ oil and honey.
"I'll have the creamed herring with apples and onions to start," I said.  Eyebrows went up.  "When in Rome!; the Boston Clam Chowder, natch...and as an entree...I'll have the 'Bombay Madness'!"
"I thought you were in Rome," Cher quipped as she filled our glasses with champagne.
I looked around.  I couldn't get a bead on things.  I mean, I know I was trippin' balls; but the threads on the peeps just weren't addin' up man!
"What year is it anyways?"
"Year?" Farrah asked, "what's a year?"
"Uhhmm, the time it takes the Earth to go around the sun..."
Cher licked her lips.  "We don't tell time like that here, in LaLaWood."
"Can you turn back time?"
"Well, yeah," she replied.
"Do you have a calendar?"
"Well, Farrah and I both have calendars; but there aren't any dates on them; just hot pictures of the two of us!"
"Well, how do you schedule things?  Like your TV show, and when it airs and all that stuff..."
"I don't know," Cher said, "you just think it and it is.  Like, if I have a doctor appointment, I just, like, go to the doctors."
"But, what about--"
Before I could complete my sentence; Connie Chung came up to the table and whispered in Cher's ear.  "Sure, of course!!!" Cher enthused and leapt out of her chair.  Before you could say, "Ob la di-Ob la da" this happened:
Cher returned to the table.
"That was terrific Cher; so anyways...about this space-time continuum--"
"Let it Be Chris.  Let it be."
​So, I let it be.  Then the food came and we feasted.  Creamed herring never tasted so good!  As we ate our desserts (Farrah: Fresh Strawberries and whipped cream; Cher: The Ultimate Dark Chocolate Cheese Cake on a Stick; Me: Frozen, Chocolate Bananas on a Stick; but we shared...) I couldn't help but wonder--
"Chris," Farrah said, wiping a dollop of whipped cream off her nose, "I was wondering..."
"Yes Farrah?"
"Would you let a toy company make a make-up center out of your head?"
"I would!" Cher exclaimed.
"I wasn't asking you Cher..."
I pondered this question.  Seriously pondered it.
"Why would anyone want a styling head of my mug?" I asked.
"Say you were so famous, people would pay to watch you buff your bunions; then a toy company comes along and offers you a shit-ton of cash to use your likeness..."
"Hmmmm.  I don't know.  I mean, what would happen to all of my heads after kids got bored with them? Would they end up in a land-fill?  I'd worry about my heads.  Would future archaeologists find one of my heads and assume I was some kind of god?"
Cher threw her hair back and laughed.  "Who gives a crap?"
Picture
"I do..." Farrah whispered.
"I mean, like, where have all the Farrah heads gone?" I said, unthinkingly.
A tear trickled down Farrah's cheek.  "Long time passing..."
"So, it's a 'no' to the styling head.  But I could go for a Chris action figure!  G.I. Chris; but then I'd kind of wonder
​about--"
"When will you ever learn?" Cher said and finished her champagne.  "Lighten up people!  Let's go skate this meal off!"
She picked up her crystal ball.
"You know," I said, "in the future Cher, you become a big time dramatic actress..."
Cher scoffed. "Get out..."
"No, really, you star in your first movie with Meryl Streep!"
"Merle who?"
"Look!" I exclaimed and waved my hand over the crystal orb:
Cher scratched her head.  "Isn't that the kid from The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes?"
I nodded.
"What about me?" Farrah asked.  "What happens to me in my future?"
"Well," I said, after clearing my throat, "you kind of become a movie star and then go on to be an even bigger TV star and you too are considered a great dramatic actress; but then you meet someone and get distracted..."
"Who?!?  Who do I meet???"
"Ryan O'Neal."
Farrah frowned.  "That jerk from Love Story?"
"Ah, yeah..."
"Let me see!" She grabbed the crystal ball and waved her hand over it.
"I don't believe it," Farrah said, "he's not my type."
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."
Cher put the crystal ball in her purse.  "Does Ali McGraw become a serious dramatic actress?" she asked.
​"Ahhh...the jury's still out on that one...and Farrah," I opined, "you played way too many victims.  You went to some super dark places..."
"Whatdaya mean?"
"Well, I think your forte was really light comedy...Cher, give me that ball back--"
"Like, I want that commercial to be a sitcom, right now!  I would way more watch that, than Laverne and Shirley!"
"More shampoo," Cher sniffed.
"Who are Laverne and Shirley?" Farrah asked.
"Long story," I replied.
"Chris," Farrah asked, her mood brightening, "have you ever been interviewed by Barbara Walters?"
"Well, it hasn't happened yet, Farrah and if it hasn't happened yet, I don't think it's gonna..."
"I have!" Cher laughed.
Farrah, with a lisp, said: "If you were a twee, what kind of twee would you be?"  She and Cher really yucked it up.
Farrah asked: "Chris, if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?"
"A birch."
She nodded.  "Nice.  Stripes.  What about you Cher?"
Cher sighed.  "A sequoia.  Can we go now?"
"What about you Farrah?  What kind of tree would you be?"
"A magnolia, I think.  Or or a mimosa; even though they're invasive..."
"Farrah," I said, "the only thing you could invade is our hearts."
​Cher stood up. "Oh brother..."
Picture
So, we wound up on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, me and Cher, on roller-skates and Farrah on her skateboard.  After a while, Farrah stopped us in front of the Vine Cinema.  "It's too flat here," she said, pulling her hair back with a scrunchie.  "I feel like something more challenging..."
"Well, let's go to Silver Lake--"
"I want something more challenging than L.A.  I know!  Let's go to Frisco!"
"That's an eight hour drive," I whined.
"When," Cher huffed, "will you ever learn Chris?  This is LaLaWood..."  
She led us into the cinema.  What's Up Doc? was just starting.
"Hey," Farrah said, "isn't Ryan O'Neal in this?"
Cher winked at me and then the three of us held hands and leapt into the movie screen.  The next thing I knew, we were barreling down Lombard Street, taking the hair-pin turns at dangerous speeds.
"Life sure is full of twists and turns, isn't it?" I asked, of no one in particular.
"Yeah, if you actually go and live it..." Cher answered, of no one in particular.
"Hey Farrah," I said.
"Yes Chris?"
"When you went on that ski trip to Austria that you won on The Dating Game, did you and your date..."
"What?"
"Get some noop-noop?"
"We had a chaperone.  And separate rooms..."
"Farrahhhhhhhh...?"
She smiled.  "Let's just say he could slalom like nobody's business.  And the Wiener Schnitzel was delicious!"
​​She tossed her head back and laughed as we hurtled across the Golden Gate.
*Any implied or stated alcohol, drug and tobacco use regarding Ms. Fawcett and Ms. Cher is entirely fictional.  Mr. Reidy declines to comment.
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Archives

    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    September 2020
    June 2020
    August 2015

    AUTHOR
    Christopher Reidy is from the Boston area.  He attended Boston University where he studied TV and film which eventually led him to Los Angeles.  There he did the Hollywood thing (which he wasn’t particularly good at) and eventually met his partner Joseph.  He was one of the co-founders of the short lived Off Hollywood Theatre Company which staged several of his original plays.  83 In the Shade is his first novel.  He also dabbles in screenplays, toys with short stories, and flirts with poetry.  Life brought him to bucolic Southwest Virginia where he now resides and is very active in community theatre. It may interest you to know Chris is officially an Irish citizen as well as an American. He also enjoys drawing and painting and looking after a passel of 
    ​
    housecats and two turtles.

     

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.