I moved to Southern California in the fall of 1982, strangely enough, quite by accident. You see, I had grown up much of my life with my grandparents, and they had recently moved to California themselves. When I heard the news my grandfather was gravely ill, I immediately hopped on my first airplane to get from Rockford, Illinois to Redlands, California. Guilt in full bloom, my family told me that if anyone could give him the will to live it would be me. Quite a lot of pressure for a nineteen year old, but I loved my grandfather more than anyone I’d ever loved.
Ok, so the title may make me appear to be a bit full of myself, but I’m just stating the fact that on this particular night it seemed that everyone did love me. That night was the 1985 XRCO Awards held in Los Angeles, California, and by the end of the evening it really did feel like someone set up a “Everybody Go Out and Love Ginger” night.
Having been nominated for three awards, “Starlet of the Year,” “Video Vixen,” and “Female Performer of the year,” I was to say the least overwhelmed and petrified. I’d only been in the adult film industry for a bit over a year, and I was nominated in the top three female categories. My competition was fierce, and I had no expectations of winning any awards. None.
The sun was high in the sky as we pulled onto the gravel parking lot. I looked for a parking spot and finally found one. The lot was surprisingly full for such a small town in the middle of nowhere. The rumor goes that Taft stands for Tweakers And Fat Tourists. From what I can see my son and I are the only exceptions to the rule. Today is my son’s 16th birthday. I’m beginning to wonder if I chose the right gift to give him. My maternal instincts are kicking in. But, I promised my son two things for his big day – skydiving and I stop smoking. I suck up my fears and usher my son towards the lobby area. I want a cigarette, and wish I hadn’t stopped smoking this morning. We sign in, fill out paper work which basically states that if we die it’s our own fault, and take a seat. I doubt my decision again.
If there is a life after this one? I hope I get to do it with you again.
I wrote this little rhyme on August 23, 1990, the day the US attorney knocked on my door regarding the Traci Lords scandal. I later spent four months and seventeen days in federal prison.