Stopping By Cathy Seipp’s On A Cloudy Sunday Afternoon

As I stumble to my computer Sunday morning, I experience stabbing chest pains. When they subside after a few seconds, I Google “”heart attack” signs.”

I don’t have three of the four signs.

Just the intermittent chest pains. But they never last longer than a few seconds.

Silverlake. 2:20 p.m. Seipp home. Cathy’s up to 123 pounds from a recent low of 108. Her normal weight is 135 though I remember a 2003 lunch at the Cat & Fiddle on Sunset Blvd with Matt Welch and Emmanuelle Richard when Cathy threatened 150 pounds.

I say what a great nurse Amy Alkon was and Cathy reprimands me for not helping Amy move a chair Thursday.

Amy does not need that kind of help. She’s more of a man than I am.

Cathy says that the nurses that come to your home seem to have lower IQs than the nurses at Cedars. Her nurse Sunday kept getting lost and repeatedly providing directions is not Cathy’s idea of a good time.

Kate Coe has been hanging out most of the day. Kate was on a try-out for a VH1 gossip show with my ex Tiffany Stone, who was recently on a Paris Hilton movie set.

I’ve been studying Torah all day so I let Kate and Cathy know that I’m hungry.

Coe provides me with tapioca pudding and then I rip into two different bags of chocolates.

I drift off as Cathy and Kate go on and on about women’s fashion and society column ideas for the LA Weekly.

The last thing I remember was a tentative column called “Ask Emmanuelle.”

It’s hard for me not to be the center of attention.

NPR’s Day to Day correspondent Karen Grigsby Bates stops by and I have to stuff more chocolates in my mouth to prevent myself from saying, “I thought you were black?”

If Karen’s black, then I’m black, and you, dear reader, have unknowingly slept with this black man.

Without enough attention paid to my delicate ego (Cathy’s cataonic in her chair, a pain pump plugged into her arm, she’s listening to Kate and Karen discuss Rodney King), I leave at 3:30 p.m. and spend the next 15 minutes trying to break into Karen’s car.

I thought it was my friend’s car that I had driven over in and I did not understand why my key didn’t work.

I was about to go inside to get help from Karen or Cathy’s dad Harvey when I looked down the road and saw my car.

About Luke Ford

I've written five books (see My work has been followed by the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, and 60 Minutes. I teach Alexander Technique in Beverly Hills (
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