If I Were....a Flower-Child (circa 1967)

I would:

1. Seriously cut back on showering and compensate by dousing myself with patchouli-scented unguents.
2. Shop at second-hand stores to find the wildest, mix-and-match old clothes imaginable. Prairie skirt and Edwardian blouse and man's striped vest? Groovy!
3. Let my actions follow my ethics and protest things that bother me.
4. Be a crunchy-granola vegetarian because, hey, there was no other kind then!
5. Spend way too much time listening to music at The Fillmore.
6. Live in a rambling old Victorian with a rotating crew of approximately 13 roommates, many of whom I do not know.
7. Wear flowers in my hair.
8. Have dirty, dirty feet, from never wearing shoes.
9. Sleep with the band (s).
10. Experiment. Ahem.
11. Grow my own food.
12. Paint daisies and peace signs on my face and body.
13. Join a commune.
14. Make things with my hands. Preferably tie-dyed things.
15. Tune in. Turn on. Drop out.

If I Were a Beat Poet.....(Circa 1957)

I would:

1-Wear skinny, black clothes--the more wrinkles, the better.
2-Own a stunning collection of berets and loafers, also black.
3-Paint my short nails bloody-red. Keep the polish studiedly, carelessly chipped through incessant nail biting.
4-Always wear my long, straight hair in a pony tail.
5-Smoke. A lot. Never be seen without a cigarette, lit or unlit, between my fingers or lips.
6-Drink nearly as much as I smoke.
7-Use my carefully crafted smoky-whisky voice to my advantage while giving readings of my poetry to the wasted,indifferent masses.
8-Change residences--and cities--with impressive alacrity. You cannot pin down a free spirit.
9-When at all possible, sleep on friends' couches and floors or, when pressed,rent the smallest place available.I will not spend much time there, anyway.
10-Write eloquent, pissed-off poetry that very few people will read, until I am good and old or long dead.Fame is for untalented,grubby whores.
11-Sleep around with fellow poets, professors or drifters.
12-Put off eating in favour of other pursuits: poetry,readings,booze and men take up a lot of time. Enjoy the resultant thin figure.
13-Travel to places like Mexico and San Francisco, spur of the moment, at the invitation of twin spirits.See 8.
14-Dabble in all aspects of art:film, publishing,painting, performance art.It is all connected,man.
15-Spend my nights in smoky,hazy jazz clubs in "the bad" part of town where good girls do not go, and are not welcomed.
16-Feign utter indifference to the growing acclaim of the male Beats, who still consider women to be their satellites and playthings. You will regret this when I expose you in my memoirs forty years later.In the meantime, I will continue to craft my poetry and refuse to sew on your buttons.

If I Were a Slapstick Comedienne....(Circa 1914)

I would:

1-Lift up my petticoats and get my feet dirty.

2-Chase (quite literally) after men and not be branded a loose woman ( also known as a hoyden).

3-Learn to drive a roadster, recklessly, at top speed.

4-Do my own daredevil stunts, such as:

5-Fly planes and dive off of teetering platforms.

6-Be tied to railroad tracks and get myself out of trouble, without relying on the "hero" to save the day and my skin.

7-Get paid for acting infinitely, energetically silly.

8-Always win the last laugh and the leading man, by film's end.

9-Not worry about acting like a "lady" at all times, on or off screen, as no one will expect me to have the morals or decorum of the Gish Sisters.

10-As a funny girl, I will be allowed to do things that heroines, vamps and real-life women cannot do without offending prevailing morals and dignity, such as: kiss, argue and kick pompous person in the derriere.

11-Make heaps of money and spend it all on things I did not know existed when I was poor. This is de rigeuer. I will buy gold lame slippers, ostrich feather hats and exotic frippery. I shall eat bon bons.

12-Have my entire family--parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncled and cousins--move out to sunny, Southern California and get them all put on the studio payroll.

13-Move behind the camera and direct and write films, for myself and others. I won't get credit for at least 75 years but it will be a lark.

14-Always look pretty and fashionable in all situations, no matter how absurd or impossible.

15-Work long days and party all night, every night, for at least 3 years. Everything in California is cheap and plentiful. Makeup can cover anything, don't you know.

16-Take "The Cure" once a year. See above.

17-Play practical jokes between takes. No one will be safe from my impish humor.

PHOTO: Mabel Normand

If I Were a Silent Movie Queen......(Circa 1925)

I would:

1-Dye my hair an outrageous colour not found in nature. As the flickers are black and white, it will not affect my characterizations of innocent farm girls/milk maids or telephone operators.

2-Dye the fur of my pet hounds to match my hair.

3-Have my touring car painted to match my hair.

4-And, so that we are all coordinated, force my "chauffeur" to wear a uniform that matches all of the above. This way, when I go shopping....

5-All eyes will be on me. Knowing that I will be the center of attention at all times is the only reason I bother getting out of bed in the first place. Otherwise....

6-I would just stay in bed all day with my chauffeur.

7-Spend more money on exotic furs than many nations can claim for their GNP.

8-Change my ensembles at least 4 times a day. To do so, means that I must constantly shop. I cannot be photographed in the same gown twice. That would be a disaster.

9-Never buy jewels as they will be showered on me by my various admirers: actors (preferably married co-stars), producers (also married), and directors ( see previous). However, although many photographs will be circulated of me opening gifts from fans, I will never keep any of that trash. My assistants handle matters involving the peons.

10-Refuse to make at least one film a year on moral or artistic grounds. This makes me seem like an artiste or sensitive church-goer. While on suspension from the studio, I must go to Europe where I will be photographed incessantly while shopping and sightseeing.

11-When I come back to America after my studio has caved to all of my demands, I must have a titled man of some sort in tow, as my new husband. I will, if at all possible, marry and divorce in a cycle of no longer than 3 years.

12-I will adopt two children, a boy and a girl. This will make me seem maternal while allowing me to keep my figure.

13-Decide that pet hounds are so yesterday. My new animal of choice will be some kind of small monkey, dyed to match my hair.

14-Never be surprised that my photograph is being taken. Of course there is press every where I go, it is what I am paid for. When there are no photographers about, then I will worry.

15-Never leave my house without my full-face on, even if I am wearing so much make-up that, close-up, I look like a clown. As long as I look good in the fan magazines nothing else matters.

16-Refuse to get out of bed for less than $15,000.00 per-week. Tax-free, of course!

Caricature by Ralph Barton, 1921.

If I Were a Girl Poet.............(Circa 1920)

I would:

1-Learn to drink a Gin Martini, 2 olives, no twist, like a grown-up and not a funny-face-making child.

2-Spend all of my pocket money on cigarettes and smoke them while flourishing a holder the length of Pinocchio's nose.

3-Skimp on rent and have the one-room, dim, shiver-inducing dive to show for it but.....

4-Spend the money I save on accommodations on showy capes, real silk stockings and amazingly fine shoes.

5-Sleep until noon. Every day. As a matter of principle.

6-Skip breakfast. Skip lunch. Eat dinner at 10 PM.

7-Date impertinent, fiery geniuses. Juggle as many as is practical and let them know about one another.

8-Wear an inappropriate amount of make-up. In Public.

9-Occasionally sacrifice electricity in order to employ dress-maker. Candlelight is romantic, anyway.

10-Sleep with Literary Agent, Publisher, fellow poets and good-looking fans.

11-Make the crossing to Europe twice yearly. It is inspiring to my creativity.

12-Drink cafe au lait, at a sidewalk table, while pretending to be inconspicuous.

13-Make all men fall rapt at my feet, love-struck. Laugh because I do not reciprocate. This makes them want you more.