Guestbook

HAVE A SEAT, LEARN A LITTLE ABOUT ME

Profile of Marian Huyck Grossi

Upon looking at my photo on Cowboy Logic I see you don’t know a whit about me. I think it’s time you know a few things.

I tend to go on and on, so Roger Haller, our commander-in-chief in this writer’s forum will surely cut me off at the pass if I get a bit too windy!

Born 63 years ago I’m about the youngest kid I know. I was born in Santa Barbara County, California. I’ve written and been an artist for as long as I can remember. Sometimes my memory takes a break and decides to hell with this stuff and doesn’t want to remember a thing. Since it’s sharp and good to go at this minute, you’ll get to know me.

As a kid I was a loner. Riding horse alone, flying across fields under the belly of my horse because I didn’t cinch the saddle tight enough. It was all right and good for a laugh a while later. My head barely touched the green beans the farmer grew. I learned cinch that thing tight girl!

I sent in drawings and writings to a television show for kids and darned if they weren’t aired. What a cool experience for a country kid! The best is it made my parents proud. Seems most all I’ve done in my life gave my parents pride in me and I loved doing for them - seeing the glow on their faces, twinkles in their eyes – what a wonder for a kid.

I’m one of five children.   One-half Portuguese and the other “Duke’s mixture” as Dad called it. I do come from some pretty lofty family roots on Daddy’s side of the family. Mom’s side of the family came from the Azores and in Portugal genealogical records are hard to find. So, there you have it. Oh! My Mom’s parents eloped in about 1902 because he was a dairy hand and she was from an upper class Portuguese family. They met on horseback atop a hill at a designated time and flew with the wind on horseback to San Luis Obispo, CA and were married at the Mission there. They loved, lived, and loved some more, and had nine children. Two of the children are still living. My aunt is 92 and my uncle in Canada is 72 or thereabouts. They are feisty people - as were the rest of my entire family – both sides. I come from great family roots and hearty stock. So I’m good for at least another 40 years, if not more.

I was a country kid, great at hoeing bean fields, changing irrigation pipes and driving tractor – Farmall or D-4, it never mattered.

Having gone to a small country school, called Artesia School, with 20 students until the sixth grade, I had to face YIKES! “town school” and the kids there going into seventh grade. There I was a scared rabbit. I rode my first school bus from the country to Hapgood School.

Soon, I became accustomed to town school life and my grades soared, as they had in grammar school.

Dum-de-dum-dum… along came P.G. Bryan in 7^th grade! Why he let me wear his royal blue satin Japanese zip front jacket with the huge embroidered dragon on back. I was in hog heaven. No kisses there – just the jacket and sitting on the lawn together enjoying lunch while I was most like slobbering out of sheer embarrassment!

When I got to high school I met BOYS! Whew ha! Skip to my Lou!

You really had to ask, didn’t you? My first kiss? Well, darned if I didn’t get to go to Griffith Park on the school bus along with a bunch of rowdy town kids. When we returned to Lompoc, a fellow named Wayne was in the back seat with me – along with my girlfriend Bert and her boyfriend in the front seat. The boys were going to drop us off at Bert’s house where I would spend the night.

A detour was made, right into a walnut grove. There, right then and there, I watched with my mouth hanging open at the nerve of Allan and Bertha locking lips… slippin’ a slobber I’ve heard it called! Well, I had never ever kissed a single soul. Wayne decided to kiss me. OHMYGOSH! I had no idea one could breathe while kissing, which was the pits to me. I nearly suffocated holding my breath during this kiss. I suffocated through a few more and then off we went – me to Bertha’s and I have no idea, nor do I care, where the boys went.

I zipped through high school telling jokes nearly every day and laughing most always. I loved and hated school. I met a boy, who was to be my boyfriend for a little over a year until he dumped me for a gal with huge breasts! The bastard!

In high school I excelled in Art, English, and Home Ec. I was so fascinated with the snake swallowing the rat in Biology I flunked the class. In some other class I got an honorary D because I loved dissecting frogs and checking out their insides – fascinating critters they are! Spanish was looking out the door and into the corridor flirting with the hall monitor – another honorary D. I was honored a lot during high school.

My teacher put my art in competition against college art students and darned if I didn’t whip butt. I still have one of them. Kinda cool: retro-something or another. I was a 4-H member for 10 years, later becoming a 4-H leader teaching everything from Arts and Crafts to Sheep and Goats. Gosh, castrating a ram is the mega pits, but sometimes ‘ya gotta do what ‘ya gotta do. Did my Cub Scouts time. Painted huge store windows and boy! Do you make’a the big bucks in nothing flat.

I married at 18. Although I wanted to go to college it wasn’t going to be because there was only enough money to send one kid out of five to college. How I wanted to go. Being the only son in the family, my brother was the chosen child to go to Cal Poly, winning many awards and honors upon graduation. Then he had to go to Viet Nam. After that harrowing place, he went on to Fresno state and more degrees.

I was still writing when I had my first child, a son, at age 19. Then at age 24 I gave birth, at 24 weeks to my daughter, who weighed a mere 2 pounds 3 ounces at birth, dropping to one pound, ten ounces. Visiting her daily, it would be three months before bringing her home. I felt so inadequate to care for my tiny five-pound baby. My son and daughter are the loves of my life.

I had been published with a few articles and poetry galore. At about age 28 I decided I was going to become a newspaper writer. I convinced them I was good, damned good. So I honed up and became good enough to make a paycheck as a “stringer.” “Stringer” is no hotshot thing to be, but one has to open doors along the way.

I quit my job as a stringer for one newspaper and began writing for another newspaper as a staff writer. Within a month I was Lifestyle Editor. Soon I was Editor pro-tem as well as Lifestyle Editor of the newspaper. At the same time I was Assistant Editor of a class act Horse Country Magazine, and Editor of a tourist weekly magazine. I became a darned good writer (at the time!) as well as photographer. I still love my photography. Still love to laugh. Still love writing. And still love bull-shitting with people. If I do not care for them I am not rude, but weed them out of my life. I learned not too long ago we have to give to ourselves, not everyone else. “I deserve the best every moment of my life.”

Continuing to write, draw, and photograph, I added calligraphy. Fine and dandy. I also loved flowers, so I began a flower shop, then another and another. I combined most all of my likes into one of the shops. I called it an all in one wedding stop: Parties Plus. I did the invites; made the bridal veils if they needed them; the floral bouquets; photography which was delivered before they left on their honeymoons. I had caterers, and the bakery. When I farmed things out, I got a percentage of the sale. So I made money that way. The one thing I hated about the floral business was making casket saddles and having to deliver them to the funeral parlor and place them on the caskets. It was the worst, most eye-opening, nightmarish time of the business.

Then I began an advertising business, Idea Factory, and I loved it. I met a combo of cool people, stuffy people. Learned about many businesses and styles of work. Photography married with art and words.

I was still married and we moved to the mountains near Yosemite. I began another advertising business and a bi-weekly Gazette called Belair Gazette, written in 1887 – yes, 1887. I wrote the entire thing, except in the first two or three issues when a few gals wrote as well. My daughter continued writing the Belair Gazette with me. She had one page and mom did the rest. I had a ball. My little Gazette brought in subscriptions from most all states, Canada and England. There, the BBC President and his secretary came to visit me on a few occasions when they went to conventions in Las Vegas, Nevada. They suggested I protect my work because they loved it and it was wonderful movie(s) material. I registered it with the Screen Writer’s Guild, which is why I push them as a wonderful place to register a 10-page synopsis. The Belair Gazette is getting ready to give it a go again. But before it flies, I’m writing a few books on what two of the fictional characters wrote and putting in conversation. With the Gazette I could be anyone I wanted. I was!

I found the Writers Group here by sheer chance and joined about January 2006. I love it. I love to debate when I try to explain things. You can tell when I’m really tired because I do not make a whit of sense. I have pretty nasty epilepsy, had cancer, and a plethora of other maladies – and you know what? Do not ever let anything get you down. NEVER! Take the time you have to for yourself on those days you feel crummy and then hit it again. The vibrancy and good you will feel about yourself is so amazing. And! Oh so important, dress fit for a king or queen. No slumming.

I’m single now and have been for 10 years, never finding anyone who I really shared a common bond with. Well, okay, not that one – other common bonds.

That’s me in a lot of words. Roger, have a go at chopping this bugger up! Thanks for reading this far. If you want more, just ask, I have no fear of taking all of my veils off – save one and you will never know which it is!

Peace and Love!

Sparky/Marian