Madelyn Pugh Girl Writer

The writer Madelyn Pugh Davis on the "I Love Lucy" set, flanked by two of her biggest fans

This weekend celebrates the 100th birthday of Lucille Ball. Movie marathons have been playing in her honor, and I bet no matter where you live "I Love Lucy" is still in rotation on television on a daily basis.

The New York Times has a great article about Madelyn Pugh Davis who wrote the "I Love Lucy" scripts, that I think any Lucy fan will find interesting. Go HERE

Like many of you I have been a long time Lucy fan. If "I Love Lucy" comes on early in the morning, I watch it as way to start off my day. If it's on in the middle of the night, I watch it to aid in giving me happy dreams.

Any close relationship with another woman (and sometimes that special man) always results in calling ourselves Lucy and Ethel. When life throws a curve ball, the inevitable "Eeeeew" is uttered, and the thought bubble forms:  What would Lucy do?

My life has been peppered with celebrity encounters. I lived in the world of show business types, and worked in industries that serviced the wealthy and the celebrity. In academia I worked in the world of film history. Once in awhile, by just being merely in proximity, and always by chance, I would "meet" a star, and maybe have a sentence or two exchanged.

In 1979 an Italian American playboy type, with no visible means of support, was a friend of mine. He hired me part time as his Girl Friday. In return he was my patron and my protector. He paid school tuition, and sometimes my rent. He lavished occasional luxury gifts on me, and sometimes invited me to take a trip with him and his entourage. He was not my lover, nor my boyfriend. He had a wife and a mistress, both of whom I knew well, and also called friends. He was my Sally Tomato.

Visiting Sally Tomato

I saw more of the girlfriend because she lived with the man in the city, and the wife preferred to live in the country with their child. The girlfriend was my age, and we hung out quite a bit, shopping and doing girly things together. At night, I was often invited to go out with the man and the woman, to fancy restaurants, and discos. Sometimes it would be with a group, and often just the three of us. I think the man loved escorting two cute young girls around town.

Anyway, back to 1979. The three of us went on a trip together to Las Vegas, and then private jetted to Los Angeles. We stayed at The Beverly Wilshire Hotel at the foot of Rodeo Drive. It was my first trip to Los Angeles, and the girlfriend and I were so excited, and of course we fancied ourselves as Lucy and Ethel in Hollywood. My friend bought us The Map To The Stars Homes, and a biography about Lucy.

One night we were out to dinner at a trendy spot. For the life of me, I cannot remember the name, but perhaps it was something like "Checkers". It was one of those places that looked like a club, and had backgammon boards set up, and was a quasi private hot spot known as a celebrity hangout.

Just like Lucy and Ethel we girls were into celebrity sighting. The boys thought we were daffy and delusional and cute. My girlfriend carried the Lucy book with her everywhere. She was a high school drop out and she thought carrying a book made her look smart.

All of sudden across the dining room, we saw her! Lucy! The red hair! We tried to act calm and cool and not jump out of our chairs and tackle her.

We watched where she was going, and then we followed her.

Lucy went to the Ladies Room! We waited a few minutes to let her have some privacy. It was not a one person Ladies Room, but still we didn't want to hear Lucy tinkle. Then we went in and there she was checking out her make-up in the mirror (lots of eye make up and red coral lipstick). We stood by her, one on each side, and caught her eye in the mirror.

She noticed the book, as my girlfriend had laid it on the sink counter. And then Lucy spoke to us! About the book (which she autographed), about what we were doing in Los Angeles (we had told her we were her hugest fans and we were from New York).

Her husky voice was just like we heard on TV watching her on TV like on The Dick Cavett Show. She was tall. Slim. Glam. She wore a mint green ultra suede pant suit. She was a star. We three walked out of the Ladies Room together, and all the guys at our table were staring, and I swear their mouths were hanging open from surprise.

She was leaving the restaurant, and we were standing behind her getting ready to go back to our table, and she turned back to us and waved and told us to have a good time. We went back to the table jumping up and down and squealing like fans. My host and the girl's boyfriend said (in his best Brooklyn accent) "Youse girls are the luckiest broads I know".

Indeed we were. What until Carolynn Applebee hears about this!