by Ed Nelson
He sported the Jackson Transportation logo. I wondered if I should sponsor any other teams. I asked some guys that were sitting around the surf shop. They thought I should sponsor a girls’ volleyball team. They didn’t get much advertising exposure, but the girl's exposure would make up for it.
On the surface that sounded good, but I figured it could get me into a lot of trouble.
On the way back to Jackson House I listened to “I Fall to Pieces” and “Where the Boys Are.” They were good but “Mother-in-Law” made me think. What would Nina’s mother be like as a mother-in-law?
I didn’t know Karen that well so couldn’t guess. It was too soon to be considering a mother-in-law but for some reason, I couldn’t let it go.
Back at the house, I washed the T-Bird down as I had salt spray from my trip. Once I had washed it, it made sense to wax the car. Then I had to clean the sand out of the interior. That took care of three hours in the late afternoon.
It was nice doing ordinary things for a change. This being a world traveler, mover, and shaker, and world-class golfer was all well and good, but I still had some kid in me.
Thinking of that I wondered what I could do tonight. Sometimes fate does take a hand. There was an advertisement on the radio. It seemed there was an outside sock hop at the public tennis courts in Beverly Hills.
I decided that was where I had to be. I told Mum and Dad I was going out for the evening. I would grab a bite to eat from an In-and-Out. They thought it a good idea that I go out to a group my age that knew nothing about me.
In-and-Out was excellent as always. I loved the stuff on the secret menu. I managed to avoid getting sauce on my sport coat. It was a new one picked out by Harold.
It made me look like a professor as it was a brown tweed with elbow patches. I kind of ruined the professor's look by only wearing a yellow polo shirt under the jacket instead of a white shirt and tie.
That and a lighter brown pair of slacks completed my ensemble. I was trying to look more sophisticated than your normal high school-age kid but not so far out as to be an oddity.
It must have worked because while no one stared I saw a bunch of the girls checking me out. Score! Not that I wanted any girl but Nina it was nice to be appreciated.
The guys of course ignored me. I was shocked at how young everyone looked. I had been hanging out with older adults so much that I forgot what my peers looked like.
It also explained why many of those adults had trouble accepting me as serious.
There was a slightly older group hanging off to one edge. From the way they dressed, I identified them as the college group, come to slum with the high school kids and maybe impress a girl or two.
They had on sport coats and ties, but most of all they had either pipes or cigars. I hate to tell them all they managed to do was look silly or at least pretentious.
Despite that, I wandered over to the edge of the group. I wasn’t shunned which I considered a victory.
Two guys standing there nodded to me. I could tell they were from UCLA because they wore sweatshirts from there. I liked their straightforward approach to advertising.
One of them asked, “Where do you go to school?”
“Oxford.”
“As in England?”
You would have thought the British accent I was using would have given me away.
“Yes.”
There was no need to tell them that I had been kicked out. Though that might have gained me some points.
“What are you doing here.”
“My parents live here and I’m visiting. I felt like getting out of the house tonight and heard about this on the radio.”
“They do this every week, rain or shine.”
Not that it rained that much in California.
“What's the drill, you just ask a girl to dance?”
“Yes, but you have to be careful, if you ask a girl to dance and she turns you down, all the others will.”
“You mean every girl watches every other girl see who asks her to dance and if she turns you down no one else will?”
“Well, it is a group thing. They watch out for each other. The way to do it is to start with low expectations, either social or looks, and work your way up.”
That seemed like the dumbest thing I ever heard but at the same time, I could see where it worked.
“Who here has the highest social rating and best looks?”
They pointed to someone I recognized. An old classmate of Nina’s, Tuesday Weld.
“Thanks, wish me luck.”
“Luck, but you are insane.”
I walked up to Tuesday.
“Tuesday, Rick Jackson, Nina Monroe introduced us.”
She went from a keep your distance look to a quick hug.
“Rick, I remember you, I read about you and Nina all the time, how is she.”
“Right now, she is probably collecting another speeding ticket in her Valentine’s Day present.”
“That was in all the scandal sheets. You are making it hard on all the other guys.”
I smirked a little as I said, “They will just have to try harder.”
She laughed and I asked her if she wanted to dance. They had just started playing, “Puppy Love.” We went out on the dance floor, well the tennis court, and slow danced. It was done as friends, nothing else.
She did comment on the hard protrusion, not that one, the one on the left side of my sport coat. As normal I wore my shoulder holster with the 38. I still had to find a better weapon.
Afterward, I walked her back to her friends who promptly descended upon her. To think I had come here thinking I could be anonymous.
I went back to my new UCLA friends. They had watched me in action. They were also smart enough to know I knew her.
Since Tuesday was probably spreading my name all over the place, I decided to come clean with them.
“I do know Tuesday, she is a good friend of my girlfriend, Nina Monroe. I used to attend Oxford, but they gave me the boot.”
At that, you could see the coin drop, at least to one of them.
“You’re Lord Blackhoof aren’t you.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Before the conversation could go any further, I was shoved from behind. I turned to face a big guy, a linebacker. At least that is what his Hollywood High letterman's jacket had on it.
“Who do you think you are dancing with my girl?”
“A friend.”
He had two other guys with him, so I decided to get this over with as fast as possible. I opened the left side of my sport coat so he could see my shoulder holster.
At that, he turned and walked away. I went back to talking to the guys from UCLA but within two minutes two uniformed policemen had me bracketed.
Before they could say anything, I told them, “Yes, I am armed, shoulder holster, if I open my jacket slowly you can see that and my creds.
The lead cop nodded, and I slowly opened my jacket. He could see my shield attached to a leather wallet. I slowly handed the wallet to him.
He examined it and handed it back to me.
“What happened here, Marshal?”
“I danced with a friend of my girlfriend and a guy who said he is her boyfriend took exception. I gave him a peek at my holster and as I thought, he went straight to you, which wasn’t a bad idea on his part.”
The policeman started to say something but was interrupted by a screaming voice and a hard slapping sound. It seems like Tuesday no longer has a boyfriend as she had just slapped him silly.
The police excused me after cautioning me about using my weapon to intimidate, I thought that rich as they wore theirs on their hip, but kept my mouth shut.
I told the UCLA guys good evening. So ended my trip to the sock hop. At least I had one dance.
I rushed home to call Nina, no matter the time in Switzerland to give my side of the story before some reporter made his up.
Chapter 21
Nina was a little peeved when I
woke her at six in the morning her time. She had a day she could sleep in a few hours. I told her about the sock hop and its outcome. She didn’t think it was that big of a deal but did agree that I did the right thing in calling her.
She was going to call Tuesday and give her hell about trying to steal her boyfriend. All in good fun of course.
After hanging up from Nina I went back downstairs where my parents were still watching the eleven o’clock news. I told them about my evening.
Mum was not happy about my opening my jacket to show the weapon. She was very much of the school that you did nothing with your gun unless you intended to shoot it, and when you shot it was with the intent to kill.
“Rick, did you intend to kill the stupid jock?”
“No.”
“Then you were in the wrong.”
I had to agree it went against all the training I had ever had. I promised to be more careful in the future. I will just deck them. Mum agreed that was a better plan.
My Mum knows when to choose her battles. She saw a weakness in my position and choose to attack.
“Rick, we are having a charity auction here tomorrow night. I would like you to attend and if needed keep the bidding going on items.”
How could I say no when I was in the doghouse over my weapon usage? I started to try to wiggle out of it when Dad shook his head. I yielded to his superior knowledge of when to go against Mum's wishes.
“I would be delighted to assist in any way I can.”
This got me a Dad thumbs up.
The next morning after my normal routine I rode George over to the practice range. I needed to get my legs and thighs in shape for extended riding in the movie.
Sam was there waiting for me. He wanted to show me a particular green he had come up with. It was a right-to-left sloping green that fell off sharply on the left, the dreaded number ten at Augusta.
I had to practice chipping on and having the ball stick below the pin. This was an almost impossible shot. The green fell off sharply here and the ball wanted to roll away.
Sam told me, “I want you to chip in from the left side of the fairway as though you hit had a long drive with a draw. That is the best position to have a good landing on the green. Anything else and you stand a good chance of rolling off.”
Sam was right, even hitting from that area I had to be careful to keep a good spin on the ball to kill it as it landed. If I did it right, I had a ten-foot putt uphill which I was now making fifty percent of the time.
That didn’t sound great, but if I could do that consistently it might win the Masters on this hole alone.
I hit several buckets of balls then quit before I made my shoulder sore.
“Sam you have outdone yourself here.”
“Thanks, Rick, it is fun for me to do this. Considering I thought I would be sitting at home drinking beer about now this is heaven.”
“I’m glad it has worked out for you, are we paying you enough?”
“You’re paying me?”
He started laughing at my stunned look.
“Got you. Yes, I’m being paid more than fairly.”
From there I spent until lunchtime working on putting from seven feet and out. Inside seven feet I was almost at a hundred percent. There was always the odd blade of grass or such that would ruin the shot, but I had the distance dialed in.
My drives were now at a consistent three hundred and ten yards. Some people could outdrive me, but none were as accurate.
After lunch at home, I drove over to the studio. I had the top down and music blaring. The songs told me to: Put another nickel in, in the nickelodeon; make me loose as a long neck goose; And I opened the door, and then
Splish, splash! I jumped back in the bath.
I was jiving as I drove through the Warner Brothers front gate. This year I had the proper stickers on my bumper, so the guard waved me through.
It turned out I didn’t have a lot to do today. I had to walk through a couple of scenes, but they weren’t ready for filming yet. The writers were still arguing about the dialog. The actress playing Molly, a girl a little older than me by the name of Sally Fields, and I got tired of their bickering.
We had just met and were supposed to be arguing. This was to set the scene for our coming romance.
While they dithered about the words she started with, “You are the typical knuckleheaded cowboy that wouldn’t know a good meal if it bit them in the ankle.”
“If your meal bit me in the ankle I would shoot it.”
“More likely you would shoot yourself in the foot.”
“I’ll have you know I’m a good shot.”
“And I’ll have you know I’m a good cook!”
“Couldn’t tell it from this plate of garbage.”
“Ninny that’s because it is a plate of garbage. It is the burnt potato I wouldn’t serve to anyone and the fat trimmings from the steaks I’m serving.”
“Why did you let me eat it?”
“I didn’t let you do anything, you came into my kitchen and grabbed the plate, and started eating.”
At that, I turned and walked away being heard to say, “What a hard-headed woman, she had to be right no matter what.”
She was heard to say, “I never have seen such a stubborn man, won’t admit he's wrong even as he eats garbage.”
The stagehands applauded our little improvisation. The writers were busy getting it down. They changed the words a little but not much. I could work with this girl. I think she would be going places in the business.
After that, I went over to the stunt area and practiced my archery. This and swordsmanship were probably my best movie skills. Though archery was proving to be a useful skill in my non-movie life.
At home, I had dinner with the family. The kids didn’t have to participate in the auction tonight. This is a shame as I could see Mary in a bidding war.
Denny and Eddie not so much. Denny was too cheap, and Eddie wouldn’t see anything he liked. He was into collecting model airplanes, the latest jets being his favorites.
Donning suit and tie I went down to reception to help my parents greet the arriving guests. They had this down to a science now, everything from Valet parking to coat checking was under control. I kept an eye out for anyone carrying a violin case, but we seemed to be free of robbers this time.
I registered like all the other bidders and collected a numbered paddle. To say it was down to science was an understatement. Even the paddles were labeled Jackson Charity Auction 1962. I mentioned that to Mum.
“Rick, they print these as fans for funeral parlors all the time.”
Live and learn.
My job was to keep the bidding going as needed, acting as a shill. If a lot was not meeting its reserve, I had to place a bid. The trick would be to keep the bid moving without winning!
I didn’t have to raise the bid very often. This was a lively crowd.
There was one item from Boehm a porcelain Brown Bear. It wasn’t bad looking, but certainly wasn’t anything I would be interested in.
The bidding slowed well below the reserve price of one hundred dollars, so when eighty was called the second time I raised my paddle. Another guy in the audience had raised his bid at the same time so it became eighty-five dollars, still not enough. He and I bid back and forth briskly. The way he bid I thought he wanted it, so I kept running him up. He returned the favor.
I had turned around to get a look at him, he was behind me and across the room. When I did turn to look, I realized it was Ben our inhouse ranch hand.
He saw me at the same time I saw him. He had a look of panic as he realized the bid was to him. I was into the spirit of bidding so much I raised my paddle one more time before I thought.
Ben was smart enough to stop, that is how I bought a porcelain Brown Bear. I cornered Mum later and told her she owed me and that she should have told me that Ben was also shilling for her.
“I will do no such thing, you have to learn to pay attention at auctions,
you got off cheap at three hundred dollars, if it had been an art auction it could have been thousands.”
She was right about that, but I still felt used, and by my Mum, a hardhearted woman. If Ben had won, the auction she would have repaid him. I tried to enlist Dad's help, but he suddenly found he had other things to do. Coward!
Chapter 22
For the next week, my days were the same, golf practice in the morning, the movie in the afternoon.
My golf improvements had come to a standstill. I decided to back off from an everyday session to alternate days. I didn’t want to burn out but wanted to keep the edge I had developed. I was hitting and putting better than ever before.
Now it would be course management and sheer luck.
Sam was making progress on his greens project. I was able to practice the most difficult shots on the Masters and the US Open. He was working on the next two tournaments.
In the meantime, John Jacobs was learning everything he could about the four courses I would have to play.
On my first day off, I spent the morning surfing. I hadn’t surfed in a long time, but it was like riding a bicycle. Easy to fall off if you weren’t paying attention. I fell off a lot that day.
The movie was going well, almost too well. All the actors were on the set on time and knew their lines, this was almost unheard of. The unions were in a sweet spot in their contracts so weren’t disgruntled. Even the weather cooperated.
Things seemed too good to be true. They were.
Major fighting broke out in China between the old hardline communist and the new soft-liners as they were being called. It was a tense week as things played out. In the end, Deng’s forces won the day.
While nasty at the time this was good news in the long run. Those forces against a transition to a form of capitalism were now nullified. By nullified, I meant probably stood against a wall and shot.
The Chinese tend towards hard finalizations. Unlike the US they don’t have a tradition of peaceful transitions of power.