Moving Pictures: An Autobiography by Ali MacGraw

Author:Ali MacGraw [MacGraw, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Actresses, Addiction, Autobiography, Biography, Celebrity, Dynasty, Hollywood, Love Story, Models, Winds of War
ISBN: 9781938402425
Publisher: Renaissance Literary & Talent in collaboration with the Proprietor
Published: 2015-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

One of the less successful, albeit well-intended, trips I took with Steve was a birthday present he gave me: a romantic plan in theory, but a fiasco in reality. Thinking we could have a very special time going overnight by ship from Los Angeles to San Francisco, Steve booked passage for us on the last night of what I think was a world cruise. We drove down the coast to Long Beach, where we were to board the cruise ship, whose name I have blocked out. It all felt very gala and exciting, until Steve noticed an army of law officers and guard dogs alongside the ship as it lay at the pier, waiting to sail its final twenty-odd hours to San Francisco. The dogs were pulling at their leashes, straining to do their job of sniffing out drugs. The ship had just come from the west coast of South America, and one hapless sailor after another was taken away, sorry, no doubt, that he had not left his Colombian souvenirs behind.

At the sight of the dogs, Steve panicked. He had, of course, brought along his own stash of grass. He grabbed the public relations officer, who was falling all over himself at the prospect of having some movie stars on board, and succeeded in getting us into our room with the grass undetected. For the next twenty hours we more or less stayed in our suite, because there wasn’t another private corner on the ship.

People who have been sailing on a cruise ship, crushed together for weeks, have their own madness. This group had even shared some kind of ritual alcoholic baptism on the icy seas of Cape Horn, and by now they were totally wacko. There was no one who wasn’t having his last twelve drinks in one of the bars, which were all over the ship; and when we took a little walk we saw more than a few sailors shoveling their Colombian treasure into their noses before flinging the containers overboard, in anticipation of more dogs in San Francisco. By nighttime we were certain we were on the real Ship of Fools. I have never seen so much drinking and hysteria. It was a nightmare. Partway up the coast I looked out of our little porthole and thought I saw our house; I longed to jump over the rail and swim for shore. By the time we reached San Francisco we were cranky and cramped and determined never to go on a cruise ship again for as long as we lived. Once again there were those dogs, and the toughest female cops I have ever seen. This time Steve took no chances, and flushed what remained of his grass down the toilet. We raced for the airport and the quick flight home, where we were thrilled to find ourselves, our children, and our dog. So much for our romantic birthday outing. Still, it was a very touching thought.

One summer on Broad Beach, Steve came back to

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