To Whom It May Concern

Created Feb 9, 2003 | Updated Feb 13, 2003

February th, 2003

Dear Sir or Madam,

I kissed Barbara Hershey. I wasn't supposed to and she really wasn't expecting it. But she didn't scream or anything. What a trooper!

Now as an opening sentence "I kissed Barabara Hershey" fails completely if you have no idea who she is. If you do know her, you're probably wondering now just-who-the-hell I think I am. Truth is I barely know the lady, only enough to know she is a lady and she wouldn't let just anyone kiss her.

Remember that Kung Fu guy, David Carradine, well, he was her main squeeze and good friend for several years of her real life. They met around the time they did Boxcar Bertha together. If you've seen that film you will understand how they might have become close. And if you haven't, you will want to. Consider it my idea of a good Valentine's flick (the crucifixion scene near the end notwithstanding ).

Barabara has been in films since her childhood and always shone like a star with more than 70 major movie credits . For years, she was typecast as the pretty airhead-hippy chick or the seductively beautiful co-adventurer. In my humble opinion, too many scripts have proved unworthy of her talents and acting skills. I have yet to see her 1996 Oscar Nominated role in Portrait of a Lady with Nicole Kidman but I highly recommend Beaches with Bette Midler, Hanna and Her Sisters with Woody Allen, and The Stuntman with Peter O'Toole.

Finally, at age 55, they are allowing her to play more mature roles. She was in Halifax Nova Scotia recently, to do a made-for-tv movie about the impact of an anorexic's death on an equally thin sister and her mother, played compassionately by Barbara.

This is a 'chick flick' and mainly involves the relationship between the grieving survivors. The surviving daughter suspects the mother to be having an affair and I had the honour of playing Barbara's lover. But you'll not see any amorous contact between us. It's an 'intellectual' chick flick.

In fact I appear only twice in the movie and have only one line each time I appear. Early on, I swing happily thru a door wearing a real estate agent's mint-green blazer with a fictional company name emblazoned on the pocket. Thankfully, the props department did not insist I wear a pocket protector full of pens and pencils.

The next and only other time I appear is at the anorexic's funeral. After the ceremony and burial actually, I show up at the reception quietly declaring my love in her ear while offering my condolences. It was at this point that I was supposed to give her a huge 'comforting' hug and sneak a wee peck on the cheek, thus allowing the surviving daughter to finally discover who "Mom's mystery lover" is.

What happens next in the story? I have no idea, they never showed me that part of the script. I guess it might be a comedy though, with the mother and daughter living happily ever after despite all men being fat pigs with only one thing on their minds, even at funerals, or something like that. Because this film is destined for some exclusive US Cable channel targeting an upscale women's audience I will probably never get to see it. But who knows where these things end up, so if you ever see "Hunger Point" listed in your tv guide, have a look for the fat old bald guy.

So anyway, there I was, standing before the rolling cameras. Not knowing how it would all turn out (the movie fiction) and knowing I would never see her again (the movie reality) I kissed her! Right there at the wake, surrounded by mourners stuffing themselves with finger food, bon-bons, a lovely roast of beef, glazed ham and dozens of fancy deserts. It just seemed the right thing to do. I wasn't supposed to, but I did. I was only supposed to hug and peck.

Yes, I kissed her. Barbara didn't flinch but the Director screamed "Cut!" and the crew and cast burst out laughing, wine and cupcakes spilling everywhere. Then we shot the scene again. And again. While I struggled to restrain myself and limit my display of affection to the action described in the script. I had to focus my mind on the gigantic chocolate mousse, the one thing on the buffet table which no one was allowed to touch until after the scene was wrapped. Turns out it was plaster, painted with a mix of brown shoe polish and vaseline grease.

Anyway, Barbara, happy Valentine's Day. If you ever read this, thanks for being the better actor and having a sense of humour.

peace,
~jwf~