I found myself in a sizable open area with stalls selling produce and other merchandise – somebody told me it was called the Italian Market – and had a Philly cheesesteak at a place called “Pat’s King of Steaks.” I will say it again, it was fantastic.
I was invited to a party that night in a town called Bryn Mawr on the Main Line whatever that was. I later found out it was the towns and houses that followed the commuter train into Philadelphia. The rich lived in this area.
I whined a bit but gave in to Sharon. She tried to convince me that I needed to know these people to raise money for my projects. I told her they may need to know me to raise money for theirs.
What sold it was that there would be some disappointed daughters. I never want to disappoint daughters, especially cute teenage ones.
I dressed in California casual. No one told me it was a suit and tie affair. Oh well, they would get over it.
Upon arrival, I was taken around and introduced to the movers and shakers. From the question’s it was apparent that they were more aware of my finances than Sharon. When the questions got too direct I pulled the dumb teenager card and hid behind my board of directors.
I really didn’t care what they thought of me and was tired of being hit up for the next sure thing. Unlike in England, no one offered me twenty pounds when they thought I had no money of my own.
The financiers quickly lost interest in me. I was able to escape out on to the patio where a group of kids my age had formed.
One guy came over to me immediately. He introduced himself as Cadet Rylski 6883. I must have looked confused so he reminded me of the tabloids and the Bulgarian Princess.
I really felt discombobulated when he formally introduced himself as King Simeon II of Bulgaria. He laughed at the look on my face.
“Rick, may I call you Rick?”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“You are to call me Simeon.”
“Okay, Simeon.”
“I have sorted it out what was going on and realize that you were not making fun of Bulgaria. However, there is something I require from you.”
“What is that?”
“Could you give me an autographed picture of you for my sister the Princess Mari-Louisa? She is married and too old for you but enjoyed the articles to no end.”
“I would be glad to.”
I wrote a note on the picture that it was a shame that time and age made us miss each other but I had really enjoyed our romance in the tabloids. Maybe we could do it again sometime if things got boring.
I signed one of the standby pictures then had another guy who had his camera with him take pictures of Simeon and me together. We parted on a good note.
I spent some time talking to the girls at the party but no sparks were struck. They were all going steady and I didn’t have any plans to come back this way. It was nice that we were able to talk as a group and I didn’t feel like anyone was out to get me for my fame or fortune.
I guess that is why the well to do tend to group together.
I later learned this incident between me and King Simeon II gave the communist’s further reason to hate me. I had read you could judge a man by his enemies. I was hated by many countries and several continents. That and twenty-five cents would get me a cup of coffee.
The next morning I fired up my plane for my trip to Oklahoma to meet with the Shawnee. This was at Chief Redfoot’s request. I had asked him what it was about but he avoided a direct answer. Just that they wanted to recognize me for my efforts for the Shawnee.
Other than returning Chief Blackhoof’s medal’s I didn’t feel that I had done much. Maybe they were putting more stock in the effects of the movie than I was. I had told them about putting half of my movie profits in an educational fund for their children so that wasn’t it.
I had fuel stops in Indianapolis and Kansas City. I had checked beforehand and found a small landing strip on the reservation, which the Chief confirmed, so I flew directly there.
I called the Chief from a payphone in Kansas City and let him know that I would be there in about two hours. There was no money in the coin return. You can’t win them all.
When I landed on the reservation there was a small group of cars waiting for me. The Chief was there dressed in jeans and a work shirt. He wore a dusty old straw hat. I rode with him in his rattily old pickup truck. I asked him about it. It was a 1938 Chevy and still going strong. Well, it may have been strong but it sure was noisy.
I asked him what the agenda was. We hadn’t talked about how long I would be there; I thought it was to be a brief layover. I had that wrong.
“We need to get you settled. You will be sleeping on the couch at my house. Tomorrow will be spent in the sweat lodge, the ceremony will be the next morning, then there will be a showing of your movie, a party, and then you can get on your way.
This was getting deeper and deeper.
At his house, we had many visitors. They wanted to meet the man who had played Death Wind and revealed to the world the monster he really was. One extremely wrinkled old man told
