ominous feeling. I think Ron did too. We decided to find our way back to Vineland. We retraced the route we had taken, but we were out in the countryside and the sun was now going down. We realized we needed help. We pulled into the parking lot of a roadside bar. Two men spilled out of the door and onto the gravel parking lot arguing. Ron and I were startled, but made the decision to respectfully ask them for directions.
As soon as they were finished with their argument, Ron politely called one of the men over and said, “Excuse me, could you tell us how to get to Vineland?”
The guy hesitated, and looked us over. He was obviously drunk. Did he recognize Ron? He was friendly enough in a scary kind of way when he said, “OK! You’ze makes a jug handle outta here, go down about two miles. Cross the railroad tracks. Now you’re travelin’ west. You’ll see 40 up ahead. Just follow that until you see signs for Vineland. OK?”
“Right! Got it! Thank you! Thank you!” Ron said. We left the parking lot and Ron turned to me and asked, “What’s a jug handle?”
“Well,” I said, “I guess,” (I put my hand up and curved it.) “It’s like a handle on a jug!”
And so we made a semicircle out of there. And the directions proved to be perfect. We made it back to Vineland, with Sissy still sleeping in the back, blissfully unaware of her southern New Jersey misadventure. The Migrants turned out to be a critical success. It was, however, one of the last jobs I would have for a long, long time.
I was running out of money and headed toward “broke.” The success of American Graffiti had been phenomenal. George Lucas had been very generous and had taken one of his gross points from the movie and divided it equally, giving one-tenth of a point to each of the top ten cast members. This income supported me for a year.
Then I got a part on a TV show called Insight . I played a teenager who found herself pregnant and was in crisis about having her baby. That baby was played by none-other-than Mr. Ron Howard. Yep! Ron was my son waiting in heaven to be born, while I struggled with a health and moral dilemma on earth. We didn’t have a scene together. He would have looked pretty ridiculous swaddled in a blanket lying in my arms.
Traditionally the show’s producer, Father Kaiser, handed you your paycheck personally and if you so choose to, you handed it back to him for Catholic Charities. At this time I could have really used the money. As the wonderful smiling priest handed it to me, I had the mortal thought of grabbing it and running before either of us could say “Hail Mary!” But I didn’t. My Methodist Catholic guilt got the best of me and I dutifully handed it back. He graciously thanked me. Boy, I could have used that money at the time. As I was leaving Father Kaiser’s office, Ron was coming in. We greeted each other, and I wondered if he knew the drill. I also wondered if Ron would give up his paycheck. I never found out.
During this period, I auditioned for:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show: I was up for the part of Janet. I was certain I could land it. I loved this script. It was so different, filled with high-camp characters and great music. I was told after the initial audition they wanted to see me again, and prepare to sing “Over at the Frankenstein Place.” Then I would be reading a scene with Tim Curry. My agent called and told me it was between Susan Sarandon and me. I was so happy even though there was that little Susan Sarandon thing to get around. My audition was scheduled for 1:00 p.m. at the Roxy nightclub on the Sunset Strip (my old stomping grounds). I got there a little early and was asked to sit in one of the booths near the stage. I was looking over my script when I hear a female voice singing “Over at the Frankenstein Place.” I look over and see Susan Sarandon on the stage singing away. I try to slump down in my seat. I don’t want her to see me halfway through the number. It might
As soon as they were finished with their argument, Ron politely called one of the men over and said, “Excuse me, could you tell us how to get to Vineland?”
The guy hesitated, and looked us over. He was obviously drunk. Did he recognize Ron? He was friendly enough in a scary kind of way when he said, “OK! You’ze makes a jug handle outta here, go down about two miles. Cross the railroad tracks. Now you’re travelin’ west. You’ll see 40 up ahead. Just follow that until you see signs for Vineland. OK?”
“Right! Got it! Thank you! Thank you!” Ron said. We left the parking lot and Ron turned to me and asked, “What’s a jug handle?”
“Well,” I said, “I guess,” (I put my hand up and curved it.) “It’s like a handle on a jug!”
And so we made a semicircle out of there. And the directions proved to be perfect. We made it back to Vineland, with Sissy still sleeping in the back, blissfully unaware of her southern New Jersey misadventure. The Migrants turned out to be a critical success. It was, however, one of the last jobs I would have for a long, long time.
I was running out of money and headed toward “broke.” The success of American Graffiti had been phenomenal. George Lucas had been very generous and had taken one of his gross points from the movie and divided it equally, giving one-tenth of a point to each of the top ten cast members. This income supported me for a year.
Then I got a part on a TV show called Insight . I played a teenager who found herself pregnant and was in crisis about having her baby. That baby was played by none-other-than Mr. Ron Howard. Yep! Ron was my son waiting in heaven to be born, while I struggled with a health and moral dilemma on earth. We didn’t have a scene together. He would have looked pretty ridiculous swaddled in a blanket lying in my arms.
Traditionally the show’s producer, Father Kaiser, handed you your paycheck personally and if you so choose to, you handed it back to him for Catholic Charities. At this time I could have really used the money. As the wonderful smiling priest handed it to me, I had the mortal thought of grabbing it and running before either of us could say “Hail Mary!” But I didn’t. My Methodist Catholic guilt got the best of me and I dutifully handed it back. He graciously thanked me. Boy, I could have used that money at the time. As I was leaving Father Kaiser’s office, Ron was coming in. We greeted each other, and I wondered if he knew the drill. I also wondered if Ron would give up his paycheck. I never found out.
During this period, I auditioned for:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show: I was up for the part of Janet. I was certain I could land it. I loved this script. It was so different, filled with high-camp characters and great music. I was told after the initial audition they wanted to see me again, and prepare to sing “Over at the Frankenstein Place.” Then I would be reading a scene with Tim Curry. My agent called and told me it was between Susan Sarandon and me. I was so happy even though there was that little Susan Sarandon thing to get around. My audition was scheduled for 1:00 p.m. at the Roxy nightclub on the Sunset Strip (my old stomping grounds). I got there a little early and was asked to sit in one of the booths near the stage. I was looking over my script when I hear a female voice singing “Over at the Frankenstein Place.” I look over and see Susan Sarandon on the stage singing away. I try to slump down in my seat. I don’t want her to see me halfway through the number. It might
Similar Books
