People often say to me, Jack, they say. Why are you the only man on God’s green earth who can get away with wearing sunglasses indoors without looking like a sissy boy.
Well I’ll tell ya. Back when I was making The Shining big Stan Kubrick insisted that every member of the cast provide him with their vital statistics so he adjust the camera in order to ensure he could perfectly frame each shot. At least that’s what he told us though Scatman Crothers swore he wanted to know our exact measurements because if he murdered one of us in a fit rage he could conceal his crime by disposing of the body in a vat of acid, take a stiff from the local morgue of a similar height and weight, put it in a car, douse it in gasoline and push it over the edge of the nearest ravine. Now like most black fellas Crothers was a fan of conspiracy theories but I wouldn’t have put it past ole Stan. That famous scene when I hack my way through the door to get to Shelley Duvall wasn’t in the original script. Kubrick had been chasing Shelley around the set with an axe for a couple of hours and after running out of breath he asked me to pick up where he left off.
Anyway later that evening Kirk Douglas dropped by to punch Stan for some reason or other and after I talked him down we went to a local bar to sink a few. One Scotch led to another and before I know it I’m on the piano wearing boot polish and shades singing Ray Charles numbers whilst Douglas dances the old soft shoe. I bet him a 1000 bucks he couldn’t do a back flip and he bet me 1000 that I couldn’t keep those shades on for the rest of my natural life.
So that was the story of why I wear sunglasses indoors and although years have passed I still get a letter from Douglas every week asking me if I’m wearing the shades. At least I think that’s what the letters say, they’ve become increasingly illegible over the last decade but then the man has had fifty strokes and is still going strong.
You know one of my favourite breakfast treats is good ol’ fashioned Eggs Benedict and the way I make it is guaranteed to impress that certain lady, or gentleman the morning after the the night before. It’s quick, it’s easy and here’s how you do it.
1. Call Dirk Benedict
2. Shout “ Get me some f*cking eggs!”
3. Wait for Dirk to arrive
4. Eat your eggs.
There you go. Eggs Benedict the Nicholson way. Join me next time when I’ll tell you how to make an Apple Tart out of nothing but Oranges.
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