My dad came to America from Iraq. His brother was a famous actor in Iraq, and my old man thought he could one up him by becoming a Hollywood star. Of course, he failed miserably. But he did return from his four years in Los Angeles with a lot of amusing stories. He claimed to support himself while chasing acting parts he took a job selling vacuum cleaners door-to-door, and his partner was Martin Sheen. This would have been late 1950s, early 1960s Los Angeles.
The stories I remember best, though, were the ones in which my old man claimed he was Shelley Winters boyfriend for a few months. He loved to tell people he fucked her. I always believed him. If you were gonna pick an actress to make up a story about, you would pick a better-looking one than Shelley, who had a weight problem. She was more of a slob than a hottie, the role that fit her best was as Charlotte Haze in Lolita, she really didn't have to act, just be herself, an overweight man-hungry cow.
Though my old man never said this, I believe the main reason he banged Shelley was because she was Jewish, which for him would be the ultimate forbidden fruit.
Anyway, now I got her autograph card to look at, which brings back some of the few fond memories I have of the old man.
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