Yes, you heard, Stefanie Powers was my patron. She was appearing in a BBC dramaand came to see a show the production company I was working with was putting on in a local pub theatre. I think it was Monomania II but the production company was Dragon’s Tail Productions – so named because a rather inadequate man once said of us (we were – still are - three female writers) that he thought he had “the dragon by the tail”. Ofcourse the ****er didn’t at all. That’s why we stopped working with him and instead made our own production company.
On the evening of the show at the Old Joint Stock in Birmingham (England) Lowri Turner (a now mostly forgotten TV presenter) was in the pub and there was much nudging and winking and “oh it’s that woman from the tele” comments being made. But then in walked Stafanie Powers and Ms Bit Part was eclipsed – big time.
Stefanie Powers! Yes, Stephanie Powers! So many of the men in the bar were gobsmacked when they saw her or was it some other phenomena on display?. Talk about glamorous. There was a lot of remembering her on Hart to Hart and how they’d known her… very well. Of course, that was in the days when boys (source Dylan Thomas Under Milk Wood) were locked in dark cupboards and made to eat sennapods for such rhythmic behaviour. But it wasn’t her glamour which struck me it was more her dirty laugh at my comedy and the tears which rolled down her face. Stefanie Powers!
It was a good night – well magic actually. The Birmingham Post critic turned up and was to write the first of many excellent reviews of our work. The pretentious *** I based one of the monologues turned up downstairs and tried to hijack the critic for his own arty endeavours but was given no truck. In fact the critic accused him of being the character on stage… which he was… which was like I said magic! It made me spit my drink out – proof if you needed it that this mumbo-jumbo does work.
To top it all one of our number (not me) approached Stefanie Powers and asked her to be our patron… and Stefanie (note use of first name term) agreed. This was the breakthrough we needed. Stefanie gave her private contact details to my associate writer/friend and we had a drink to celebrate… maybe more.
How did it end? What fame and fortune followed? None, nada, zilch, nil, nothing – not an iota. My friend (calls herself a friend) lost the details.
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