Flashback: Laura Bush's Diary

Well it has been a tough couple of weeks here at the ranch. First Poppy and Bug eyed Barb visited for a week. Then the Phillies beat the Dodgers in the playoffs. I hate the Phillies ever since that incident with John Kruk. I can tell you stories about why he really only has one ball but I won’t. And of course my great friend Captain Lou Albano passed away. Did you ever notice how so many of your friends all seem to pass away in bunches? First one or two then all of a sudden ten of them die in one year. I think what happens is that the people who were in their thirties and forties when you were a kid or a young adult are now at that age where they all start to pass away at the same time. It’s kinda scary.

Anyhoo I had been busy scapbooking some old photo’s of Capt Lou and Gorilla Monsoon and Chief Jay Strongbow one afternoon when my private line buzzed. I have a line that doesn’t go through the switch board for private calls. Only seven people have that number. Even W doesn’t have it. I jumped. Who could it be? I let it ring six or seven times before I picked it up. “Hello” I said. “Laura” “Yes, who is this.” “He’s dead Laura.” “Who’s dead? Captain Lou? Who is this?” “No not Captain Lou. Soupy. My Soupy Sales is dead.” “Oh my God, is that you Robyn?” “Laura my Soupy is gone.”

Now I might have told you before about the old days when I was just out of college and was trying to make it big in New York. I was working the peeps at Show world on Eight Avenue with my friend Robyn Byrd. We were roommates for a while with Joey Heatherton and Anita Gillette. But I hadn’t seen her for years. Ever since that night that Bug Eyed Barb and me got drunk and went on Robyn’s cable show. That caused such a big fuckin mess that W forbid me to talk to her. I agreed because I like to let W think he is running things. I mean he does what I say about stuff like invading Iraq and whacking Lilo Calante …. Oh shit I wasn’t supposed to talk about that …forget that. Anyway I don’t sweat the small stuff like him telling not to talk to Robyn. I mean she had my number if she needs me. And now she had finally called.

“Laura I don’t know what to do. Soupy and I had lost contact for a while but you know I always loved him. What can I do? I miss him so. I always thought we would end up together in our old age but now it can never happen. I want to kill myself.” “Now don’t talk foolishness Robyn. You are still a young woman. Soupy was a lot older than you. Plus he was a married man. You know it would never be. You need to move on.” “That’s easy for you to say Laura. You have your W. Everything turned out great for you. Me I have nothing to show for all my years of work but some tapes of talk shows with Al Goldstein, a drawer full of black crocheted bikini’s and herpes. Life is just not fair.” “I know Robyn, I know.”

We were all so young then. We used to get together for drinks with our friends like Joey Heatherton, Anita Gillette and that slut bag whore Sandy Duncan. We were all young career gals. Sort of like Marlo Thomas in ‘That Girl.” Except we didn’t have a Daddy who knew best how to help our careers. Well except for Joey cause her Daddy was the Merry Mailman on WPIX TV and she used to get us side gigs and invited to all kinds of industry parties. So we got to meet all the big stars of live TV in New York in those days. Sandy Dennis from Wonderama. Chuck McCann. Bozo the Clown. And of course my hero, Officer Joe Bolton. I might have told you about the night I met him. You see all of us young girls had a thing for one of these older gents who were so successful in TV at the time. You might call it the David Letterman syndrome. I mean if you were gonna date someone who should date someone who could help your career you know?

We would all go to Sardi’s and sit at the bar and all of the big stars would come in for drinks after the shows. There were Broadway stars and chorus boys and dancers and everyone in show business in New York City at the time. And out of all of them, Robyn had a thing for Soupy Sales. Now we all told her she was crazy. I mean we were all sure that Soupy was gay. I mean he loved to hang around with Tony Randall and Wally Cox and that little Mary Souter while they did shots of sambucca and eat those little hot dogs. It was all so gay. But Robyn didn’t want to hear it. She loved Soupy. She would go on and on about his beautiful eyes and his gorgeous hair and perfect teeth. It was sickening really.

Well one snowy February night Robyn got her chance. Joey and Robyn and I were sitting at the bar around three in the morning when Soupy wandered in high as a kite. You see he had just got suspended for two weeks for pulling that gag where he had all the kids go into their mother’s purses and take out money and mail it to him. Soupy was pissed and he was drunk and he was looking for trouble. And Robyn’s middle name was trouble. Well maybe it was Chlamydia but close enough. Anyhoo she sidled up to Soupy and they had a conversation as she ran her hand up and down his back. And then up and down his thigh. Soupy was bleary and drunk but eventually he took Robyn’s hand and they left the bar. She looked back at us with a big smile on her face. Her dream had come true! She was going home with Soupy Sales!

And so they started an affair. But it was an ill-fated one from the first. You see Robyn confided in me. There was a big problem. You see Soupy wasn't a fairy. He was a furry. He only got off with puppets and stuffed animals. That’s why his whole show was about puppets. He not only had them on the show. He molested each and every one of them. He was worse than David Letterman. Or even Steve Phillips. He had a four way with Kukla, Fran and Ollie. He titty-fucked Lamb Chop before she went on Ed Sullivan. After he dropped Oscar he became a big Grouch. So he only agreed to be with Robyn because he was drunk.

She tried to make it work. She stopped shaving and grew a full Oscar Gamble down there. She even agreed to wear costumes and stuff. For a while she was even a bit player on the show. She would put on the White Fang gloves and give Soupy a handie while he was talking to all the little kiddies. But it wasn’t meant to be. They drifted apart. Robyn went on to star in “Debbie Does Dallas” and her own long running cable TV show. Soupy bounced around TV and had a couple of shows and was eventually reduced to going to autograph shows where he had a booth between Burt Ward and the Eddie Munster guy. And now he was dead.

I talked to Robyn for an hour or so and calmed her down. She just needed to grieve. I know the feeling. It’s funny how you never forget your first love. But it seems like all these stories seem the same after a while. And it seems more and more I have to hear about people from those days that are passing from the scene. Now so many of them are gone. And W’s fucking pain in the ass mother just goes on and on and on.

Life is just unfair sometimes.

(I published all of the old Laura Bush posts on Kindle in book form. Available on Kindle Unlimited.)