About 2 1/2 hours south of L.A. , waaaaay back in the mountains east of San Diego is the Rincon Indian Reservation. It’s funny, really. I was driven through beautiful valleys for what seemed like hours. Miles and mile of orange, lemon, tangerine groves, even up the rather steep slopes of the mountains. Very remote. Then, all of a sudden, the rising tower of Harrah’s hotel casino. Walking into the marbled entry, gilded columns , hearing the ka ching sounds of slot machines in the casino close by, seemed surreal.
I am here to be interviewed by Dick Cavett in a short while. Burt Reynolds and James Caan will also do this in the coming weekends. I was on Dick’s show ( The Dick Cavett Show, for you too young to remember) many, many times in the ’70s. He came to see my play in New York which touched me a lot. He interviewed Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds a week ago.
He has, in his life, interviewed everyone interesting and is great at imitating people, especially Hepburn ( I am on my way home now. It’s all over.) Dick had lots of strange, out of the ordinary memories about me, obscure things, like the flavor of the lip gloss I was wearing when we kissed in a cab in the 70’s. It was an inadvertent kiss. It was strawberry flavored. I’ve switched to chocolate flavored now cause that’s what Eve Ensler uses.
I’m tired. Gotten into the habit of going to bed at 9 pm while doing the DVDs and it’s now 10:15 pm and I’m still 2 hours from home. Yawn.
