What does a nice Portland rehab facility have in common with the famous Playboy Mansion in Los Angeles? Absolutely nothing, but the recent news of the passing of Hugh Hefner gave me a slight stab of nostalgia and a subject for today's column.
I've never written about the parties my husband and I attended at the Playboy Mansion, probably because it never occurred to me readers would be even remotely interested. And I'm not saying you are. However, many of you know Burt and I were part of the Hollywood scene for many years, and during that time we attended charitable events at the Playboy pleasure dome.
I might add that you can take the girl out of Nebraska, but you can't take Nebraska out of the girl. It is also my nature to find almost any new experience fascinating and interesting.
I was on high alert from the moment we drove through the heavy iron gates, and then while wandering freely with other guests through the grounds with its sparkling pools, grottos, exotic animals and birds. Burt was hoping to see a bunny, and you know what kind of a bunny I'm talking about. But then, my husband was an All-American male, so what else would you expect?
Only once did I spot "Hef" himself across a crowded living room. He was wearing his traditional red silk bathrobe and was alone, so maybe he was in between bunny babes. Or perhaps his bunny de jour was upstairs — which was roped off to prevent anyone from getting too curious. I may have an inquisitive nature, but I do have my standards.
As for life here in rehab, I am obviously anxious to head for home. Right now I’m being tested to make sure I am competent to be safe in a wheelchair and on a walker until I see my surgeon again in a few weeks. I will have a home health aide occasionally from Aging Wisely for as long as I need someone.
Most of the other patients here are "hip replacements," and I'm the rare bird who tore her leg ligaments. All the PTs and OTs are young and fun and take their jobs seriously, but I love breaking rules, and they will probably be happy to see me go. For example, while being tested using the wheelchair on a downhill grade, I tricked the PT into taking his hands off the chair so I could go down the hill at my own speed. He was horrified, even though I told him it wasn't even a "C" ticket ride at Disneyland. He was definitely too young to remember when Disneyland sold books of tickets from A to E with an E ticket being the most exciting ride of all.
Readers have really risen to the challenge of sending in funny stuff for this column, and the following was contributed by Dolores Winningstad, Deer Island, Ore.
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The board of a large steel company, feeling it was time for a shakeup, hired a new CEO. The new boss was determined to rid the company of all slackers.
On a tour of the facilities, the CEO noticed a guy leaning against a wall. The room was full of workers, and he wanted to let them know that he meant business. He asked the guy, "How much money do you make a week?" A little surprised, the young man looked at him and said, "I make $400 a week. Why?" The CEO said, "Wait right here." He walked back to his office, came back in two minutes, and handed the guy $1,600 in cash and said, "Here's four weeks pay. Now get out and don't come back."
Feeling pretty good about himself, the CEO looked around the room and asked, "Does anyone want to tell me what that goofball did around here?" From across the room a voice said, "He was a pizza delivery guy from Domino's."
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That's it for today folks, and I hope soon to be writing this from home. In the meantime, keep the funny stuff coming in.
Bobbie Lippman is a professional writer who lives in Seal Rock. She is the author of “Good Grief: A Collection of Stories As One Woman Journeys From Heartbreak To Healing Through Honesty and Humor” (Dancing Moon Press). The book (with all proceeds going to Rotary International) is available at JC Market in Newport and directly from Bobbie, who can be contacted at [email protected]