Seven things you didn’t know about me

I was dragged into the blogging world kicking and screaming by my friend, Lisa Stewart, who has insisted that I share with the world seven things you don’t know about me.  Lisa, this is for you, and you can stop nagging now, I’m #@**?! blogging already;

1.  I was on Jeopardy.  Yes the TV show.  And I would be a rich woman today, if only I had known what name was missing from this list; Rossweisse, Ortlinde, Siegrune, Grimgerde, Helmwige, Gerhilde, Waltraute, and Schwertleite.  Yeah, that’s what I thought.

2. My adopted hometown of Raleigh, NC, had a public art project called the “Red Wolf Ramble”, in which artists decorated dozens of larger than life fiberglass wolves.  My wolf featured a window into the wolf’s hollow stomach, where Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma resided.  If you turned a crank the wolf’s side, she beat her fists on the wolf’s back in a vain attempt to escape.  And if you pressed a button, she’d grumble “Little Red?  Get me OUTTA here!  I MEAN it!   Ehhh, what are YOU lookin’ at?…”

3.  When I was living in London, Prince Charles once mistook me for someone he knew.  No, really.  It was at a recital at the Royal Academy of Music, I think.

4.  While we’re on the subject of brushes with fame, Bruce Dickinson, of the band “Iron Maiden”, ate chili in my flat.  We had this connection with the London Thames Fencing Club…

5.  Because art is such a solitary pursuit, I get my social kicks by acting in local theatre productions.  In my second to last show, I played a crazy person who occasionally crawled around on all fours, barking like a dog.  And in my last show, I played an elderly rabbi, a bewildered Mormon mother, a male doctor, Ethel Rosenberg, and the World’s Oldest Living Bolshevik.

6. I used to illustrate children’s books.  One of them, “The Teeny Tiny Farm”, was so sickly sweet (“On the teeny tiny farm, there are teeny tiny plows, and teeny tiny tractors pulling teeny tiny plows…”) that it forced me to write a parody.  “In the itty bitty city there are itty bitty cars, and itty bitty hookers outside itty bitty bars…”  It was, of course never published.

7.  I do NOT like what passes for barbecue in these parts.  There, I said it.  I realize these are fighting words, and could get me thrown out of the state of North Carolina, but I don’t care.  Vinegar and pork are not an appetizing combination.