Saturday, December 31, 2011

TOM SUGERLAND’S LAST MEMORABLE CHRISTMAS / By Ray Ramos / Copyright Ray Ramos / Page 15


“I bet she’s down there at Victoria Secret picking out something to wear?” Yasmine was giving Tom a hard time over his upcoming party appearance over at Tiffany Shaw’s that evening. But Tom was taking it all in stride.
“I’m sure I’ll be in and out.”
“That’s what she’s afraid of,” Rockquin chimed in, as Yasmine smacked his on the back.
The two didn’t notice the tall brunette and the stylish man in the expensive black Italian suit standing before them. The man looked at Tom with an almost x-ray stare. He whispered something to the tall woman who was at least 6’4 in her Italian high heels. Rockquin’s jaw dropped.
“Oh my god! Someone pinch me!”
Both Yasmine and Tom looked over at Rockquin and then over at the dramatic looking duo.
“Hi would you folks be interested in taking a picture with Santa Clau---“
Rockquin cut Yazmine off at the quick.
“Your highness, it is a pleasure to meet you and your queen… How can we serve you?”
Tom had know idea what the heck Rockquin was talking about? He just figured he was just being his usual flamboyant self.
Yasmine suddenly realized that the woman was a model, one of the major ones. She thought she was Brazilian. But she couldn’t remember her damn name? She’d had recently been liked to a big movie star but she couldn’t remember who? She had no idea who the man was, but the dark sunglasses man him look important.
"It is Buffalo Bill," the man said to the woman in a serious tone.

He snapped his fingers at Tom and with a European accent said, “You, Santa Claus! Please stand up!” Tom looked at the guy; he wasn’t used to being ordered around like a chimp, even if the guy did say please. He slowly stood up in all his red velvet glory.
Tom looked at the two, “Have you been naughty or nice?”
The man in the suit nodded in approval. He than said something in the Brazilian model’s ear, and she approached Tom like she was walking on a runway. Then the man went over to the camera and before she could react, elbowed Yasmine away from it. The flash started popping as the model shoved Tom back on the couch and threw her long legs over him and began to straddle him and give high fashion poses, much to the shock of several passers by. As fun as it was to be straddled by this most gorgeous creature; Tom knew he had to get this chaos under control.
“Okay what the hell’s going on here?!”
Rockquin who had be frozen with awe suddenly jumped in.
“Tom we are blessed to in the presence of the great fashion photographer Efren Wallenda and the most beautiful woman in the world Zara Mia!”
Yasmine looked at them astonished; the Fellini surrealness of it all. She didn’t notice the crowd that was about to gather as Efren Wallenda and Zara Mia studied the photos they had just snapped on the monitor.
“This is good… very good,” he said to her. She stood there with her hands on her hips in agreement. Tom, Yasmine and Rockquin had lost control of the set… at least momentarily.
“I wish I could see him without that silly suit,” Efren Wallenda said as he pressed his finger to his lips. Before another thought came out of his European brain, Rockquin ran over to where Yasmine’s bag that was hidden under the counter and pulled out a large manila envelope.
Before Yasmine could get a word out, Rockquin pulled out several black & white photos that Yasmine had taken of Tom at the beach that one day; looking like the old surf king that she saw him.
"Tom's a well known west coast surfer," Yasmine said.
"Really?" Efren looked over at Mia who licking her lips, while she was examining Tom photo carefully.
"Who took this photos?" Efren said.
"Yasmine did, she's an excellent photographer," Tom said.
Efren looked at Yasmine, with a bit of a scoff.
"I don't want to you someone's who been over shot!"
"No worries with that. I shot Tom just for fun. Those have never been published Mister Wallenda."
"Very well." Efren was so excited, that Yasmine could swear that he had farted
Zara Mia pointed at the picture in Efren Wallenda’s hands, “You see if I hadn’t wanted my Hot Dog on Stick lemonade you would not have found that!”
“I will buy you dinner tonight at Mister Chow’s, okay Mia? Do you mind if I take these?"
Efren did wait for a answer from and put the photos in the envlope and under his arm.
Efren Wallenda looked at Tom, “I will need a contact number for you. Where I can reach you twenty-four- seven, if you don’t mind?”
Tom still hadn’t grasped the whirlwind that had just blown his way.
“Why?”
Efren Wallenda threw up his hands to the heavens.
“He's very interested in using you for one of my very upcoming shoots. Older model are all the rage these days,” said Zara Mia.
“I’m not really a ---“
Before Tom could finish Yasmine gave him an elbow in the side and Rockquin had Tom’s information in Zara Mia’s hands.
“If this happens, it will happen fast. What is your name?”
Efren Wallenda extended his hand to Tom. Tom firmly shook the hand that was softer than that of Yasmine's he thought.
“Tom Sugerland, please to meet you.”
“That’s such a sweet name,” Zara Mia said with a little flirt in her Brazilian voice.
“Enough! You’re getting fucking lemonade, then we can get out of the wretched place… it reminds me of the Fucking catacombs of Paris… only not as interesting. I hope we can find our Fucking car,” Efren Wallenda said as he walked away with his super model in tow.

Tom looked at Yasmine and Rockquin,“What was that?”
“He farted,” said Yasmine.
“No, that was me… when I get excited… I have issues sometimes. It happened once when I met Susan Lucci at the AMC in Century City.”
“Well we got a little line going on gang,” said Tom as he looked over at about ten people who were in line to get a photo with him.
“I can’t wait to go home and write about this in my diary,” Rockquin said with glee.
“That was HUGE! I think that’s in the running for thee moment of the season,” Yasmine said shaking her head in disbelief.  


Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer was playing on the radio when Tom arrived in his Santa suit at the address that Tiffany Shaw had given him in the scented envelope. Miss Shaw also lived in Cheviot Hills, like Yazmine’s family, but on the other side.
“Well this should be more than a little interesting.”
As Tom got out of his truck, he noticed that there didn’t seem to be many cars parked on the street for a party… but, he though maybe Tiffany was just a small gathering. He walked up the door and rang the bell. At first he heard nothing, so then he decided to knock. From the inside he heard Tiffany’s voice.
“It’s open Santa, come in.”
Tom opened the door cautiously and walked in the house. It was a very nice, like something out of a magazine. Everything looked just right, the tree, the lights, even a small half carved turkey on the sideboard, it all looked very tis the season.
“You’re right Santa, Tiffany has been very bad.”
Tom turned around to see Tiffany standing there looking dressed in a red silk robe, holding a half-filled highball glass.
“And I’m gonna get even badder.
“Will wonders never cease,” said Tom.
"So whatever you do; do not pick-up if Mrs. Claus calls!”
A million things might have gone through Tom’s mind at that moment, not seeing Tiffany Shaw bare- assed in a few minutes was not one of them.
“So do you like my little ruse?”
“I’m not complaining, if that’s what you’re asking?”
“Let’s get you out of that suit, you must be roasting?”
Tiffany hands went for Santa’s big brass belt buckle straight away.
“You go straight for the launch pad, don’t you lady.”
“Damn right! You got the right stuff, cowboy? I got some blue pills if you need it?’
“Don’t worry Santa hasn't found a need for them yet… you got all I need to me out in the stars.”
Becoming impatient Tiffany started to get a little rough.
“Easy baby, Santa still needs to wear the suit for a few days!”
"Just don't come to town too soon is all I ask," she said as she yanked on his suit pants.
The two were soon undressed. Tom picked up Tiffany’s naked body and threw her over his shoulder. In a nearby mirror he could see the faint tan line on that amazing beautiful behind of hers.
“Which way to the bedroom?”
She kicked her legs in excitement and pointed.
“No! Over by the tree!”
Tom’s sure and surgical like hands were all ready giving Tiffany pleasure. He could tell by her excessive panting, that he had not forgotten how to touch a woman in a way that made them plumb loco. Tom remembered he had also been called as the Sugerland Express by the ladies for reasons other than surfing back in the day.
Once down by the tree, Tom let loose and let the heavens fall were they may. Maybe it was because of the surfing, but Tom had stamina, add in all of his hours he’d clocked in making love over the years. Tom just became unleashed… like that phantom wave that broke Tom's collarbone that day on the beach; Miss Tiffany Shaw never new what hit her... but she enjoyed every minute of it.  Long after that night in December Tiffany would walk by certain parts of the house, and would immediately become flush thinking of Tom Sugerland. 
After several insane hours of going at it with a couple meal breaks in between; Tiffany was naked on the bed, just sprawled out like a bag of bones that just hit the pavement from a tenth floor swan dive. In fact worried, Tom checked to make sure if she was still breathing... which of course... thank God she was. He covered her and then gave her a kiss on her forehead and made himself a turkey sandwich to go before he split; it was 4:09 AM. Santa likes milk and cookies… but Tom thought this was way more fun... he wasn't as young as he used to be... but if his heart had exploded in his chest while making love to Tiffany Shaw... well, then he'd gone out like the Big Kahuna.

TOM SUGERLAND’S LAST MEMORABLE CHRISTMAS / By Ray Ramos / Copyright Ray Ramos / Page 14

It was the first day of Hanukah, and Christmas was a little over a week away. With the exception of a couple little things, Tom pretty much had the Santa gig down. On this afternoon, Tiffany Shaw sashayed her way up to the Santa set. She was wearing a leopard print blouse and a skin tight black skirt. Tom noticed her, and did his best to coolly finish up with his current visitors; a couple twin tween girls who looked right out of The Shining.
“Santa, I’m personally delivering you my letter… I ran out of stamps.”
Tom smiled and pointed over an actual U.S. Post Office that was sitting less than fifty feet away. Tiffany playfully put her had up to her lips.
“Well who put that there?”
Tiffany handed over to Tom an envelope, which defiantly had a hint of her memorable perfume.
“It’s all in the envelope Santa,” Tiffany purred.
The two looked deep in to each others eyes, as they both held on to the envelope for a moment.
“Well okay,” said Tom.
Tiffany smiled and gave a little bye-bye wave and turned around and walked away, giving all looking in her direction the memorable sight of her tight black skirt from behind.
“Man, she got booty on her,” said Beatrice with an impressive tone in her voice.
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
“Uh huh Santa,” Beatrice said.
When Tom had his break, he opened up Tiffany’s scented envelope. What he found was a request for Santa to come to a private party tomorrow evening, with directions. The job paid five bills.

“Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam.” Tom recited the prayer with Yasmine as he watched her light the menorah. After she lit the last candle, he looked at her in the soft candle light. “She smiled. “Thank you for doing this with me, Tom. I was so bummed not having my parents around for the holidays.”
“My pleasure Yaz. I’m an old hand at Chanukah,” said Tom.
Tiffany got a cute animated look on her pretty face.
 “Hey, this is kind of another Marlon Brando scenario?”
“I think you’re right! But we're missing the ton of Chinese food?”
Yasmine snapped his finger in a mock gesture, that made them both chuckle. Then Yasmine held out her palms out in front of Tom.
“Hold on a minute.”
Yasmine excused herself and ran into the other room. Tom thought to himself; "She is pulling a Brando."
Tom leaned up against the kitchen counter and patiently waited for her to return. She came back twice as animated, with a little box gift wrapped in blue and silver and put it in Tom’s hands.
“What’s this?”
“We give gifts too,” she said playfully.
“You do? Well, now it’s your turn to excuse me.”
Tom walk over to the front door and opened it, stepped out for a moment and brought in a wrapped gift himself.
Yazmine’s put her hands up to her mouth in delight.
“What’s this?”
“Just a little something for my special little friend.”
“Tom you are such a rascal! You shouldn’t have. How do we do this? One at a time? Or should we open them at the same time?”
“You go first kid.”
“Okay,” she said.
Yasmine started to rip the paper ever so carefully.
“I think it’s a book.”
“Just tear it,” said Tom.
Yasmine did just that, and found a copy of Robert Frank’s The Americans.
“It supposed to be a classic photography book… a must have photo book the guy at the book store told me.”
“This is so cool! Thank you Tom,” she said as she open the book and started studying them.
“Yeah, this photographer Robert Frank went all across the U.S. back and the fifties and shot all these black & white candid pictures… amazing stuff… anyway I thought so… I hope you like it.”
“It’s wonderful, thank you so much! I love black & white photos.”
Yasmine let loose and gave Tom a great big hug.
“Okay, now your turn!”
Tom picked up his present and proceeded to open it. He could tell that Yasmine was excited for him to see what it was. And in a moment he would know why. In the tiny box Tom found himself looking at a Cub Scout pocket knife. He could tell by the patina on the knife that it was old... vintage, it was very much as the one he remembered owning as a kid. He looked at it, and was speechless for a moment. He was very surprised by the gift; touched in fact.
“Where the heck? My knife…"
"Found it at the flea market in Santa Monica... it was just waiting for me in a glass case."
Tom held it in his palm, feeling its weight.
"Well, this is incredibly… thoughtful Yaz. Thank you”
"Open it. Look on the blade."
Tom did just that, and found his name engraved on.
"Maybe, you won't lose it if your name's on it?"
 Yasmine looked up at Tom; the tip of her little tounge peeked out from between her teeth as she smiled playfully.
“I remember the little things… Happy Hanukah.”
“That’s important gift, believe me… never lose that; Happy Hanukah,” Tom said as he continued to look at his gift.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

TOM SUGERLAND’S LAST MEMORABLE CHRISTMAS / By Ray Ramos / Copyright Ray Ramos / Page 13

It was a chilly December morning at El Porto Beach, which was down south from Venice, Playa and Dockweiler Beach. It was considered be many to be the best local beach for surfing because beneath it was an underwater canyon, this created consistently larger waves than other beaches. Tom stood there in his wetsuit, holding one of his favorite surfboards; Tom called this particular one “ol’ Lisa”, after a girl he had loved long ago… in fact that’s how he named all his boards, after his lost loves. He explained to Yasmine, who stood there in the chill holding her cup of coffee. Yasmine looking ever so lovely bundled up in her wool southwest patterned coat. He wished he had a camera to photograph her, but it was he that was there to be photographed, by her this morning... he wouldn't know how to work her fancy camera anyway he thought.
“Tom, I’m so excited to shoot you that I almost forget how cold it is," she said,
“Well that’s good, cuz it’s pretty wintery out here even in my wetsuit.”

I few minutes later Yasmine had to in the viewfinder of her digital Olympus SLR camera and was snapping away. She thought Tom was truly a wonderful subject. The lined face, the white long white hair and beard, set against the crashing waves in the background. Trade the surfboard for a trident and her could have been mistaken for Poseidon himself.
“I hope your getting what you want kid?” Tom said with his rumble of a voice.
“This is great… but, if I could get you in the water… that would be so epic.”
Tom looked at her for a moment. He thought to himself, how could he not see this request coming?…the  truth was he did.
“Damn, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“I’m sorry; please it would just be such a good shot. Even if it’s just you walking out of the water… it would be so dramatic.”
Tom thought she was right; it had been too damn long since he'd stepped in the sea.
“You want dramatic?”
Tom looked at her; he felt the admiration that she felt for him, even though he didn’t understand it.
“Slap on your most powerful lense. This old bastard is going in!”
Yasmine smiled but she didn’t care for the way that Tom had referred to himself. In her eyes this veteran beachcomber was gallant. He was the living breathing embodiment of the California dream.

The water was freezing as he remembered, but it felt good. He’d give his little love a show, he do it also in honor of that sick child that he had met, and most of all he’d do it for himself. Tom paddled out, where he’d met up with several other young surfers. They were no faces he’d recognized. They looked over at Tom not knowing what to make of him?
“How are the surf gods treating you this morning fellas?” “Cranking!” one of the young guys said braking the ice between them. Tom gave them one of his Santa winks from the mall, and then waited for his turn as he watched them all begin to ride the waves.
“Like Winston Churchill said…”
Tom jumped on the wave; it had the power of Moby Dick. His feet were on the board soon and he was riding the Pacific just like old times. He became at one with the fiberglass and it was a smooth damn ride... just like old times.When he got to the beach Yasmine was there…snapping away.  that made him feel good. He had to admit that she had an effect on him, like a box of puppies did to a child.
“Was that epic enough for you, my dear?”
“Tom, that was so awesome, are you gonna go out again?"
"I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead this morning."
Tom put his arm around her.
“It felt good. Come on, I’m gonna buy you breakfast!”

Tom took Yasmine to his favorite little café, that was in the front of a bowling alley in Mar Vista. It was always crowded, but the wait was never more than ten minutes. Cops loved the joint too, so fat chance of the place ever being robbed. Tom ordered a Denver omelet and Yasmine had a stack of blueberry pancakes.
“Thanks for the push today,” said Tom.
“I don’t think you needed me to push you back in the water… but I’m glad you did it while I was there.”
“Well, you helped. Things can sometimes get in your head… and pardon my Portuguese; fuck you up. Either way you did me a service.”
“Tell me more about yourself Tom.”
“It’s not much. I worked as a tow truck driver for most of my life. All the money and time off I had, I used to travel the worlds beaches to surf… that was the life I chose, that was happiness to me.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure, go a head.”
“You must have made love a lot of the native women?”
Tom laughed, "Who am I? Paul Gauguin? Is that the question?”
Yazmine blushed and looked down at her pancakes.
“In those kinda situations you have too… it would be insulting not too.”
Tom laughed and took a sip of hi tea.
“Let’s just say I have many wonderful memories to get me through my old age.”
“What about Christmas?”
“What about it?” Tom said.
“Do you have any special memories that you can remember? You are Santa Claus.”
"That's right, I am." Tom thought about it, and thought about it.
“When I was a kid, my folks got me this beautiful Cub Scout pocket knife that I had really wanted… I remember that… that meant a lot to me as a boy.”
“I bet you still have the knife,” said Yasmine.
“I wish I did. I lost it years ago.” Yasmine could tell that Tom really meant it.
Tom asked for some more hot water for his tea.
“I got a memorable Christmas tale for you… in fact it’s kinda bizarre you might say? It was when I was towing… It was Christmas Eve 1979 I think it was? My dispatch calls me and says that I have to make a call to this house up on Mulholland dispatch’s says; whatever this guy needs… I think “what ever?” I didn't exactly know what he meant by that?”
Yasmine’s eyes get big, “This sounds good!”
“It is, trust me. So I drive up to this gate and press the buzzer, I say who I am… the strange voice on the other end says; “Drive in but stay in the truck what ever you do.”
Tom took another sip of his tea.
“So I drive in, and this guys not kidding three huge guard dogs rush out and surround my truck… so I’m sitting there thing what the hell is this? All of a sudden this large figure appears at the door of the house… and when I say large, I mean wide! He says something and the dogs disappear. Its dark remember, the only light is from the house. So as mysterious this figure gets closer and closer; I realize this wide guy with the dogs is Marlon Brando.

Yazmine said, “Marlon Brando, why do I know that name?”
Tom just gives her a huh look? “Well if you don’t know who Marlon Brandon is… and why don’t you? This story’s not gonna be that entertaining to you.”
“He’s an actor right?”
“An actor?... I just might have to spank you right here... he was thee actor! The shit! The Godfather! On the Waterfront! Last Tango in Paris!”
Yasmine giggled as her checks turned crimson.
“Tom Stop! Go on with your story!"
Yasmine motioned with his elegant hands for him to go a head.
“So, remember this was Christmas Eve… and I’m on top of Mulholland with one of the most famous guys in the world.”
Again Tom looks over at Yasmine.
“Trust me on that. So he says he’s got a truck; an old International that won’t turn over… Why he needs this old truck to start at 10 PM on Christmas Eve, I don’t know? But I get it going which takes me all of twenty minutes. During this time we’re talking, and he’s asking me about myself… and mind you, I’ve not even acknowledged that he’s fucken’ Marlon Brando! He tells me his name is Bud. He’s asking about my truck, he’s asking about this and that… somehow I tell him that I surf… he tells me that he’s got an island… excuse me, he owns his own island in Tahiti. He invites me to go there and surf, he says there’s a spot on the island were the wave break perfectly. I’m thinking is this guy for real? By the way at this point we’re in the house, sitting at the kitchen table… for a big movie star his place was pretty average… I swear the shittiest little star around these days would have a place a million times fancier than Brando’s place. But damn, did he have a great view... just wonderous. Anyway we shoot the shit a little bit longer. And he's telling me stuff like, the best friend he ever had was his pet raccoon named Russell! All kinds of nutty stuff.”
Yasmine laughs, “You're starting to make things up now!”
Tom raises his hand like a Boy Scout.

“ This is all true, then Brando asks me if I’m hungry? I said, sure I guess? So he gets on the phone and finds the only Chinese’s restaurant that’s open on Christmas Eve and orders a shit load of Chinese food for just the two of us: chow mien, chop suey,  egg rolls, foil wrapped chicken, sweet and sour this and that, friend rice, white rice… it’s the craziest thing. Here we are sitting with a dozen of these white Chinese food cartons in front of us… I wish I had a picture of that moment. And all this time I still haven’t copped up to the fact that he’s Marlon Brando.”
“That’s so crazy,” Yasmine said.
“So midnight comes and Brando says, Merry Christmas! Then he excuses himself for about ten minutes, I’m thinking should I leave? What? Then he comes back with a thin black box… leather a bit frayed and hands it to me. He says Merry Christmas Tom. Then he says for be to open the box. I open it to find a pristine Gruen watch from the 1950’s it looks like... its even got a diamond in it! I say thank you, but I can’t take this… Brando tells me; take it, he had many material things that he didn’t have much use for… but he wanted to give me something in the spirit of Christmas… the spirit that he had felt once as a boy in Nebraska. He said even though he didn’t believe in keeping time himself… a watch was still one of the most noble inventions of mankind. Brando laughs and said, besides if I didn’t take the watch someday someone he never met would end up with it.”
“Wow that’s amazing”
“Here’s the kicker, I never took it out of the box, I just put it away… when he passed a few years ago I dug it up, and pulled it out and slapped it on… just to remember that wild night. Then I noticed an inscription on the back of the watch, it said; Marlon, with love Marilyn.”
“Marilyn Monroe? You have a watch to Marlon Brando from Marilyn Monroe?”
Tom raised an eyebrow.
“I gotta feelin? Pretty epic huh?”
“Yeah! So did you ever go to his island and surf?”
“Naw, another missed opportunity… I was dumb back in those days… too shy about that kinda stuff. So learn a lesson from me kid, when you get a chance to do something cool, do it because the door’s only open for a brief moment.”
“So how did the night end… did you ever say; hey you’re Marlon Brando?”
“Funny you should say that, when I left, he pinched my checks like an old woman would and says; you know who I am, don’t you? I said of course I did. Brando tells me thank you for letting me be "Bud" again for a few hours… and that was it... and I never saw the guy again. The guy had it all... you would think? But there he was alone on the top of his mountain. Brando seemed like the loneliest dude on the planet... he had to have been? To wanna to hang out with a greasy tow truck driver like me on Christmas Eve."
“But you were there for him... that's so awesome; you were right, was that’s pretty damn memorable,” Yasmine said.
Tom smiled, "and pretty damn epic."