This is getting silly, but I must write a rebuttal to the rebuttal to my rebuttal.  Then, I will drop it.

I was not “dropped” from SNL.  If Dolores Robinson said so, she lied.  It was my choice.

The gynecologist story is all wrong.  My mother did not take me.  The truth is a much juicier story.  I told Gus that Nisan, my ex- husband took me to “his” gynecologist, Dr. Lee Newman of Beverly Hills.  That’s where he took all his women!  When I walked in the door, Dr. Newman said, “Hey, Nisan, how’s Rosa?”  This statement hurt and shocked me and reminded me that I had given my virginity to someone who did not value morality or me.  I actually wrote a song about my first gynecology visit and Dr. Newman framed it and placed it on his wall.  Newman was since arrested for molesting his patients, one of whom was Melanie Griffith.  I read it in the  paper.  I was not surprised because I recall that he had walked me to my car once after a check up and inappropriately kissed me goodbye.  That is the true story.  Much more interesting than the mis-truth Gus wrote about my mom.

Dolores Robinson made another mistake telling Gus that she was “worried about me” when I lived in Johnny Crawford’s guest house.  First of all, Crawford doesn’t have a guest house.  Secondly, she was talking about Seymour Englander who let me live in a room in his garage for a couple months when I was in between apartments.  I lived in 17 places in Hollywood while I worked my way up the show biz ladder.  Seymour Englander was from South Africa and owned the wine club where she first saw me perform with Johnny Crawford.  I was doing a handstand on the bar.  Dolores was probably “worried about me” because the street I lived on in the garage, had a few murders take place there.  It was Wonderland Ave.

Gus’s divorce records are not complete, but do touch on some of the facts.

Not that it matters, but Gus did say he preferred a woman as a masseuse.

More errors include Gus’s telling that I took my 17 year old to a “gay party” held by “my newest gay friend, Seth.”  Gus leaves out the fact that Seth was my next door neighbor and landlord in the Hollywood Hills and that I had to pass by his back yard to get to my front door.  I did live in Seth’s “guest house.”  Seth was being polite to invite us to his party.  We had to pass by it anyway.  We were polite to stop in for 10 minutes.

I also told Gus that my gay friend Glenn was the only person who every believed in me or my career and that he flew to Miami in 1982 to get in my Toyota with me and my cat and her litter box to drive cross country back to L.A. after my guilt-ridden nervous breakdown.  Glenn said I belonged in Hollywood.  I even wrote a song about it that I gave Gus but he chose not to include:

1. There were days in the gym
Trying to be slim
You know a woman is always too fat
There were years in the mirror
Trying to get nearer to the boy
Who was gone just like that


If only you knew
What me and my uke have been through
I think that you would handle us with care

2. On the cheerleading bus looking down the long, dark road
After watching the football team play
The Best of Bread and Karen Carpenter wove through
My ukulele strings and sang all of my teenage angst away

If a picture paints a thousand words
Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses
Baby I’m a want you, Baby I’m a need you
I’m on the top of the world

3. On the way to LA with my gay friend in the car,
Route 66, we were young and naive
“You’ll be a star,” he would say, “Just let your ukulele play,”
“Let the world see the heart on your sleeve.”

4. All alone, don’t phone home
There is nothing for you there.
Write a song, you’ll belong to a dream.
Tell your cat where you’re at.  If you listen to his purr
He says, “nothing’s as bad as it seems.”

If only you knew what me and my uke have been through
I think that you would handle us with care

5. Suddenly I’m on a stage
With the world at my feet
Vulnerable as a body can be
You’re amazed at the sound when the curtain comes down
Of applause – how addictive it can be

6. Then you give up your life to be a mother and a wife
And when no one can see you, you sigh
Dust your ukulele off and then you can release
All that jazz in a soft lullaby

La, la, la, la, la, la, la

7. Now you sit in a chair with your first grand baby there
Crawling up to your grandmother knee
And you smile and you say, “What do you want me to play?
How ’bout that good ol’ standard, Jesus Loves Me?”

Jesus love me this I know
For the Bible tells me so
Little ones to Him belong
They are weak but He is strong

8. Now I’m ready to die and in the corner of my eye
I see my uke sitting in someone else’s lap
The girl is strumming along, making up a song
‘Cause she thinks I am taking a nap.

I think she has a clue what me and my uke have been through
And, I think that she will handle us with care
I think that she will handle us with care
I think that she will handle us with care

In conclusion, I don’t know that Gus purposefully lied.  He seemed like a nice person.  My dad did say those inappropriate things about “fat” but Dad is 83 and occasionally speaks uncensored.  My brother is not a “disappointment” or “300 pounds.”  My brother James Jackson is one of the top architects in the world, having worked with Richard Meiers and Frank Gehry and  having designed portions of The Getty Museum and the Disney Music Hall in downtown Los Angeles.  He should write an article on me.  It would be hilarious and accurate!

This is the rebuttal which Victoria is rebutting