pink pajama mama

I LOVE Paul McCartney for many reasons. First, he’s a Beatle–what’s not to love? John Lennon was more my speed actually, but he’s gone and McCartney was my next favorite. Second, he’s vegetarian, and serves only vegetarian food on his tours. Third, he’s a positive influence on our world, sweet, gentle. Well, I could go on and on. Suffice to say, I never thought I’d actually meet him, much less get a kiss from him!

So, we, the gogo dancers from the Go-Go’s tour (Pleasant, Kina, and myself) were asked to dance with the B-52’s at a PETA benefit in Los Angeles.
“We’d love to!” we said, and even thought of a name for ourselves: Girls Marked Danger. We called ourselves after an English translation of a Sophia Loren movie.
So, the benefit took place at Paramount Studios on the lot. We were hanging in the green room waiting to go on. Richard Pryor asked to take a photo with us. He was wearing a baseball cap that said “Brat” on it, sitting in his wheelchair. Woody Harrelson and many other animal-loving artists milled around us. The benefit was in honor of Linda McCartney, so we watched from side stage while Paul sang. Then Chrissie Hynde from the Pretenders got up and sang “I’ll Stand by You” and dedicated it to the animals. We were standing with Pamela Anderson Lee, her husband, Tommy Lee, and Rosanna Arquette. Then, the B-52’s came on and we ran onto our gogo boxes to dance. Pleasant dragged Pamela Anderson onto her box with her, Kina and I shared a box, and we danced our juicy patooties off.
After, I saw Paul McCartney speaking with people and I said, “Kina, we have to go meet him.” She agreed, so we stood in awe of being in such close proximity to a Beatle as Andy Dick asked to take a photo with him. We waited patiently and then I said something stupid like, “You are so amazing! It was fantastic to see you perform!” I’m sure he’s used to tongue-tied loonies. He said “You were really great too. I loved seeing you perform too!”
Then he kissed me on the cheek.
Fast forward a few minutes to Kina and I screaming in the ladies room and jumping up and down and really almost passing out after being kissed by a Beatle. Instant Beatlemania. Kina blacked out in our dressing room a few minutes later. She said it was from the excitement of meeting Paul, but I have a sneaking suspicion it may have been from whatever drug she was taking. I floated on air all the way home.
Kissed by a Beatle!!
A few years later, I was at Harvard and my adorable contortionist girlfriend, Bonnie, was on national tour with Paul. Her father called me to see if I wanted to go. YES! I did, but I didn’t have 100$ to spend on a ticket. A few hours later, Bonnie called to see if I wanted to make some $$ and dance in the show. Did I? Do butterflies fly? I actually had to dress as a black and white Pierrot clown adn run around the auditorium with an enormous balloon, and then change into an indian princess costume and dance around the stage.
Once again, I found myself performing with my Beatle.
Once again, I found myself standing on the side of the stage, listening to a man and his guitar play to thousands of people songs I’ve known since I was a child, so casual, so relaxed, like he was playing in his own living room.
“You were great!” He said to me as he ran by with his entourage.
Oh Paul! You’re great too!

We were just leaving our dressing room after dancing at the San Diego State Amphitheatre with the Go-Go’s.
Belinda said, “Here, take this,” and shoved a fairly full bottle of tequila into my dance bag. I put it in back of my Honda Passport and I started the 2 hour trek back to Los Angeles with my fellow gogo dancers, Pleasant and Kina.We called ourselves multigenerational because we were all ten years apart: Kina was 20, I was 30, and Pleasant was 40. (We also decided to nickname ourselves with a letter and a word, e.g. I was D-Cup, Pleasant was C-Note and Kina was G-Spot–but that’s another story.) It was late and we were completely exhausted when we reached the Border Patrol. I don’t know what got into me, but I decided it would be funny if I spoke Spanish to the Border Patrol.
“Hola!” I said cheerfully as we pulled up. I then said the only phrase I can say in Spanish. “Mi madre is mexicana. Mi abuela es de La Paz, Mexico.”
I smiled.
The Patrol Officer smiled back.
“Pull your car over there, Miss.”
“Wait,” I said, “I was just kidding. I don’t even speak Spanish. We wre just perfomring in San Diego.”
“Pull over,” he said in an “I’m not messing around” voice.
Moans and groans filled my car.
“Marci! Are you crazy? Why are you speaking Spanish to the Border Patrol?”
“I don’t know,” was all I could reply. I was too busy trying to think of ways to dispose of the open bottle of tequila they were sure to find in my bag.
“Get out of the car,” the Patrolman said, holding a dog on a leash.
“What is going on? I don’t even speak spanish!” I repeated yet again.
“Out!” he said sternly, opening my door.
All three of us climbed out, Pleasant having to zip up her pants as she had eaten too much after the show.
“Why are you zipping up your pants?” They asked? I don’ t know what they were thinking.
“I ate too much,” Pleasant replied.
All three of us sat on the curb while they opened up the back of my car and let the dog in.
“It smells like alcohol in here,” they said. Thank goodness we hadn’t drank any.
“It’s hairspray,” I replied, thinking on my feet.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” Kina said, motioning to the nasty port a potties behind us.
“What are you crazy? I’ll take you to a bathroom in a minute. You don’t want to use those,” I said, patting her back.
“Actually, I really have to go,” she said.
“No, no, no!” I said, even more emphatically. “I’ll take you to a clean one. Just hold it.”
She pursed her lips together.
Apparently the dogs were not trained to search for tequila becasue they didn’t find it. I guess they were searching for people. Creepy.
By now we were finding the humor in our situation. We took photos with the Border Patrol and continued on our way.
As soon as we were safely away, Kina told us she had a joint in her pocket and that was why she had been so adamant about going to the bathroom, she wanted to get rid of it, afraid the dogs would smell it.
I was petrified. “You had a joint in your pocket this whole time? Are you crazy?” I asked.
“I didn’t know you were going to speak spanish to them and get us pulled over!” she replied.
We pulled off to find a gas station powder room and we couldn’t find an open one as it was after midnight. We ended up peeing by the side of the car.
Nice.
In the end, there was a whole lot of construction and detours and it took us more than six hours to get home. In the middle of the night. With our gogo boots and tequila intact.
We should have stayed in a hotel, but then I wouldn’t have this great story to tell.

I was sitting backstage with my fellow dancers, Kina and Pleasant, while on tour with the Go-Go’s. They were talking about their first sexual fantasies, and I made the mistake of confessing mine.
“My first sexual fantasy was Siegfried and Roy,” I stated.
They stared at me before howling with laughter. The kind of laughter where you can’t breathe.
“I know it’s crazy,” I said. “I went to see their magic show in Las Vegas when I was 12 years old, and their blue spandex pants drove me wild. I laid on my Grandma’s couch afterwards and dreamed of what might have happened if I actually met them.”
Pleasant started to scream, “See, Marci, you are just as sick as the rest of us.”
The next day I walked into the dressing room.
“Siegfried and Roy, huh?” laughed Charlotte. Belinda, Jane, Gina, the whole room, screamed with laughter.
My oh my, news travels fast around here.
At our last performance at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles in front of, oh, I don’ t know, maybe 6,000 people, I saw a mysterious envelope delivered to Pleasant backstage and I thought nothing of it.
Until I climbed on my gogo box during “Our Lips are Sealed.”
Taped all over my box were huge photos of Siegfried and Roy and their white lions. I was dancing on their faces in my gogo boots, trying not to let my own laughter interfere with our gogo choreography.
And in the years since that fateful tour, I have received numerous gifts from Pleasant, socks with white tigers on them, a stuffed white tiger, etc.