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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required MY Collaboration with Ricky Nelson in the Last Days of 1980 The eventful news of that day about what was found on board that crashed plane, won't replace that particular memory of Mr. Rick Nelson's hearty laughing along with his wife, Mrs. Kris Nelson, who maintained some level of dignity, cupped her lips with her leather-gloved hand. I'm grateful for the extended courtesies that they, the Nelsons, had left to my remembrances of their shared lives, as in the shared lives of so many others in times of my good accounting of them," ... by the Poet. As Charge d'affaires VIP Specialist: My employers have extend-these certain particulars set by those (like Mr. Nelson) who my attendees that'd be my principal's. The corporate back offices provide me a point man in the entourage, or unless corp. office points me them. (*a point man sets their schedule and coordinates with the corp. back office or me direct) I've been informed, my principal ... actor Ricky Nelson, plus, there were eight un-named people, and point man is, Nelson Earlier in the evening I had prechecked their suites turned-down service, dark sweets, bedding he'd been assigned three suites They had two junior suite specials Juniors/two double-decks and Murphy beds--pulled down from walls 'twas tasked in my pre-checks Nelson's Presidential suite well-stocked, snack and wet bars Bell Tower, sauna, and steam room, jacuzzi, and hot tub Bell Tower's viewshed of S.F. Bay, 100% view (it's an open tower-just spin around) open-deck sitting area with a central fireplace, finally, guests for the Presidential Suite receive au gratis, a fitness trainer, barber, beautician, manicurist, pedicurist, nutritionist, cook, and a pastry chef. Additional personnel as I see fit. My signature of approval dismissed Head Housekeeper. I assigned the staff their do-alls then I took a Sleeper. Staff woke me before they arrived The doorman calls, "They're here!" Bell forwards, front staff tasks diverged I, "Welcome," --The privileged ... "Sir," He's renowned for his good looks; when I met this young man, (though about twice my age) "Stands a library--if looks had books!" 'Twas about four a.m. 'Tis just past the Christmas season, at first, he was alone, behind the counter, I eased in; he spoke in a low tone. Casual dressed, light brown pants, white ... plain T-shirt--neatly pressed, lobby's Grande Dame Chandelier light didn't hide he's depressed He then identified himself; says he'd reserved a room. Though needless, in and of itself, I.D., "Again welcome, ..." (HIS NAME and the name of our hotel, my name) I told him what we had for him, fitting to his request, and it's fine for a pseudonym, as an alias guest. He was one, with lots on his mind, arms on the desk--leaning, offered water, but he declined, now face to face, smiling. Thought thorn was Hollywood's idol, 'Harmon' will be a pain, hand fanned me close--his truth was told ... till he boarded a plane. "I held no defense to have confided these statements as that respective timeline was evolving that they were newsworthy, nonetheless, monetarily would have been substantial--but that does naught define me. Rick Nelson's first words to me, argumentively, stated that he hated the name Ricky because it was forced on him, [I think I being scolded by Mr. Privileged] shattering his shell of silence, he said that he liked, Rick that had replaced his real name, Eric. I told him that I would change the registry to his specifications, but he said to leave it because that's what they wanted. Thought he'd never smile again, he thanked me for that, and then he went on about his wife being a gold digger and that's why he decided to branch out his career to include music besides film. And that takes him to Ms. Blair whom I'll see shortly. He and his wife broke up--"Excuse me, (yes,) beg my interruption, Sir, but, I am aware of that, Mr. Nelson, Sir"--but not the truth, because it's just her truth before the cameras, she claims infidelity, but she wants me to end my music career saying it's ruining our lives, and that, my polite sir, is the truth. [[[Looking back--Mr. Rick Nelson was verbally subtle in telling me the delicate truth, after all, he couldn't say the word--DRUGS--to a "polite sir." The plane crash revealed what he withheld from me that early Saturday morning. How I knew it was a Saturday was at that moment I told him my friends were picking me up soon and we were flying down to the Grand Canyon for an overnighter. Mr. Nelson, being the point man, would need to know my whereabouts, as my expertise, beyond the hotel's abilities to accommodate, may be ascertained during his stay regardless of my actual location as he is my appointed/in my care. He said that I would like it there, looking down the canyons over the cliffs, and that's when I told him that I don't do well with heights, he chuckled saying why am I going down there then, and I said that I go where the plane goes. He went on to say that he didn't know what I meant by that, and so I told him that my friend was the pilot and that we were flying down on his 4-seater Piper Cherokee, along with his wife. Also, an overnighter in Phoenix, meeting up with our police buddy there, and I should be well and back before his scheduled departure. I also apologized for my ill-timed absence but I assured him of my confidence in the hotel's staff abilities. He reads reservations, okay, with that, comes into view ... a girl approached -- had things to say, I withdrew from the two. She had him face her, hugging him, I know she's not his wife. Years later headline news kind of grim, brother-in-law wrecks life.
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