Lucky Me: My Life With--and Without--My Mom, Shirley MacLaine

by Sachi Parker

  In summing up a life, there are so many people to give thanks for. Many of the guiding lights of my life are gone now, and many others I’ve lost touch with over the years; but their spirits, and the spirits of all who have lifted me and given me inspiration, are always there, filling my heart with their presence and guiding me along my path.

  First of all, I really should thank my mother and father for giving me my existence, for loving me as best they could, and for supplying me with so much good material.

  Thanks also to my marvelous acting teacher, Peggy Feury, who so long ago told me to “write that book.” She planted the seed.

  My school friend Yuki was indispensable in filling in the blanks and giving context to incidents that I understood only incompletely. She was a great help in putting the puzzle together.

  A special remembrance to the late Dale Olson, who showed such courage and candor in coming forward and clearing up one of the central mysteries of my life. He and his partner, Gene Harbin, were always sweet and wonderful to me, and I will never forget their kindness.

  I’m eternally grateful to Linda Konner, my literary agent, who took the idea for this book and ran with it. Linda’s enthusiasm, persistence, and professional savvy were a blessing to me, and I was so lucky to find her. Let me also thank Suzanne Collins and Rosemary Stimola for their help in bringing Linda and me together.

  I’m indebted to the people at Gotham Books for their belief in this project and their willingness to take a chance on an unknown writer. Special thanks to my editor, Lauren Marino, and her assistant, Susan Barnes, for guiding me through the publishing process with patience and humor, and giving shape and drive to the narrative. Without them, this book wouldn’t be what it is.

  The writing of this book coincided with a very difficult time in my life, and I want to thank all those people who rallied around me and gave me the strength to move forward when it would have been so easy to give up. Without the emotional support of these special people, I never could have kept my focus on the positives in life and made it to the finish line.

  So thanks to Don Kelly, my suave, charming Irish-Italian pal from the Bronx, who provided a third eye and a helping hand and gave me a newfound confidence whenever I was faltering. He never allowed me to wallow in defeatism, and helped me take responsibility for my own life. I owe him so much.

  Thanks also to Jim Noble, my acting mentor and dear friend, who supported my ambitions and stood by me in the toughest times, and who leads always by the example of his own grace and elegance.

  Thanks to my fellow actress Joanna Keylock, who provided passion and perspective and always a sense of loving acceptance; her husband, Lee, whose straight-talking common sense saved me from many a headstrong mistake; and Barbara Parker, a great friend, who has never failed to bolster my self-esteem and celebrate my female strength.

  Thanks to the very talented playwright Susan Cinoman, for giving me the idea for the one-woman show Lucky Me, which got me started on this revelatory journey. My thanks also to the Irish Arts Center, the Great Neck Arts Center, and the Burgdorf Cultural Center in Maplewood, New Jersey, who all produced readings of the play. It was a great thrill to share my story with an audience, and to feel them connect with me. I’m especially grateful to those audience members who insisted, “You have to turn this into a book!”

  The Theatre Artists Workshop in Norwalk, Connecticut, where I worked on my one-woman show, has been a haven and an invaluable resource for me and so many other actors and writers. I consider it in many ways my artistic home, and I cherish the many friendships I made there. I particularly want to thank Barbara Rhoades, who insisted in her no-nonsense way that I get my butt back onstage, and the late Brett Somers, whose salty wit and warmth made every visit to the workshop a joy. I can still hear her voice today, and it never fails to make me smile.

  Jean Bernard, my therapist, has been with me for more years than I care to remember. Her insight and calm have always been a steadying rock for me to lean on. My gratitude to her knows no bounds.

  About my cowriter, Fred Stroppel, I struggle to find the words. Simply put, without him there would be no book. Not only is he a brilliant, insanely talented writer who sometimes seemed to be living inside my head, but it was also his tireless devotion to this project, along with a bottomless well of patience, persistence, and belief, that made it all happen. Whenever doubt came flooding in, he created a working environment that allowed me to feel safe and free. He has become my brother.

  I would also like to thank Fred’s wife, Liz. Her utter trust in our partnership allowed me to stay emotionally available throughout the writing process. She is a treasure.

  My final thanks go to the two people closest to my heart: my children, Arin and Frankie. They taught me what true love is.

  As always I find it more natural to express my deepest feelings in Japanese, so to all of you, and to everyone who has touched my life and given it light, I offer a very humble and grateful domo arigato.

  Mom holding me

  when I was a newborn

  Me and Mom on

  Malibu Beach

  On the set of

  Some Came Running

  Photo shoot at age two

  for Look magazine

  Dad greeting me at

  the Tokyo airport

  My friend the cherry tree

  My father and me in

  front of Tokugawa Shrine

  in the Japanese Alps

  Eguchi-san, my Japanese

  governess, and me

  My father, mother,

  and me on set

  My elegant silk kimono

  Yuki watching me knit

  at Charters Towers

  Miki, Dad, and

  me at dinner

  Me in my Quantas

  stewardess uniform and

  the diamond necklace my

  mother gave me, with Dad

  On the set of

  Manhattan Express

  Me and Mom on

  the red carpet

  Me and Mom

  Me and Mom at a

  movie premiere

  On the set of The Witch of the West Is Dead