Pattaya Mail — Columns

Winebibber’s Grapevine  

Dolf Riks: Gladys Palmer, one of the last of the Big Hot Mamas

Gladys Palmer was not only a great entertainer, she was also a lady of temperament whose ire once released, caused many of us to shiver with fear. Ed Headley and Suthep, a Thai American partnership who ran the two most successful nightspots and restaurants on South Pattaya Beach in those days viz. the Coral Reef Supper Club and the Outrigger, knew what perils were in store for them when Gladys lost her temper. I had a more superficial relationship with the diva, but still could not avoid getting involved in their domestic squabbles, as for instance, when Gladys was sitting on my left and Ed on my right fighting it all out at the Outrigger bar over my poor head.

But sitting behind her white "baby grand", in the Coral Reef against a wall of coral, entertaining the American pilots and other US military personnel, Gladys was their queen. She made the boys for a few hours forget the horrors of that terrible conflict not so far away, across the tropical and mythical lands of Cambodia and Vietnam of which they could see little when they flew over it at great altitude in their B52’s. I once asked a pilot of one of those huge murderous flying machines what they felt when they dropped their lethal cargo down on the farms and towns of the river deltas, and he said, "Nothing. One seems to be detached and one does not seem to realize what is going on down there." It was different, of course, for the crews of the other aircraft, the fighters and the dive-bombers, or whatever they were called, who saw the people running, burning and flying away from the terror of modern warfare. However, once in the make believe atmosphere of the South Pacific, Sadie Hawkins and a touch of Trader Vic that was the Coral Reef, singing along with Gladys, all was forgotten and Gladys was their contact with home.

Gladys, who was in her sixties, although she looked more a generous 45, lived in a little house in one of the small sois of the South Pattaya "strip". The abode has long been gone, to be replaced by some "Bar Beer". Because she had been burglarized once, she had arranged for a rather fragile young Englishman named Archie, who had come to Thailand from Britain as a teenager. He was to be her chaperone and lived gratis in a tiny room at her house. We never really understood what good old Archie could do in case of attack, as Gladys was certainly more formidable to deal with in battle than this rather ethereal youth. And because of the difference in the American-African culture and that of the English upper, lower, middle or whatever obscure British class distinction Archie belonged to, the international relationship was not without friction.

As we at the Dolf Riks Restaurant ("at the big tree") were open for breakfast in those days, Archie would frequently drop in at nine when we opened. He told me about the huge southern style breakfasts Gladys would prepare and expected him to participate in. "I can’t stomach "hush puppies", pork chops and black eyed peas," he complained, "especially for breakfast and when I don’t eat them, she gets dreadfully angry." I served Archie some toast, a pot of tea, and some three minutes eggs, a breakfast more to his liking, and he flourished.

My interest for cuisine brought me to asking Gladys how she prepared Chitterlings, which is nothing else but pork intestines, called andouillettes in French kitchen jargon. I should not have done that, and not only because I detest them, whether French, Chinese or Southern US style. My interest was purely academic. Gladys thought that I truly fancied them and every so many days there would be a pot of the foul smelling delicacies being delivered by Archie, with the compliments of Mama Gladys.

It took me some time before I could tempt Gladys into having lunch with me in my restaurant to reciprocate for the unwelcome Chitterlings. She arrived one afternoon dressed to the hilt with a slightly purplish wig and clad in some fancy pajamas, which was fashionable in those days. After a beer or two, she decided to have a mixed breaded and deep fried Seafood dish which, as I had noticed, was always liked by the people of the American South.

At the time I had one big room in the front of the restaurant and another smaller one behind it. If I recall correctly, there was nobody else in the place and Gladys opted for the small room because it gave her more privacy. Once we were seated she confided in me that she wanted to remove her teeth as she could eat with more ease that way.

One day, after what I believe was another fierce battle with Ed Headley, she accepted a contract with a hotel in Guam. A couple of years ago, somebody told me that she was still alive and performing in a San Francisco nightclub. God bless the old soul. Archy seems to have survived the hush puppies and is still somewhere in Thailand as I was told.

Dear Hillary,

Fifteen years ago, my husband and I adopted a little boy of two from Thailand. We knew we couldn’t have children of our own and we always loved our adopted son like he was our biological child. We raised him with strong moral values. He never got into any serious trouble and for us, he’s an outstanding teenager.

Last year we came to Thailand on vacation for the first time after the adoption. Since then, he’s been denying my husband and me. He told his friends how much he hated to live with us and that his true mother is living in Thailand and he wants to go looking for her. It hurts us terribly. We did so much for him while his real mother abandoned him for money and his father is unknown. We don’t know what to do anymore!

Denied Parent.

Dear Denied Parent,

Your teenage son dreams about his biological parents like every adopted child will do at least in one period of his life. When they are angry or upset, their fantasies gain power. Maybe he is not angry with you and your husband or the way he was brought up. Maybe his anger goes deeper; maybe he doesn’t understand why his biological mother gave him away. Besides the love you gave him, this might make him feel insecure, and because of that he’s got the feeling he is not a loveable person. Young people his age have lots of problems with growing up and finding out what they want.

Have an honest talk with him. Tell him you are aware that he has some problems and that you are trying to help him, whatever his decisions are. Listen carefully to what he tells you. If he is critical towards you and your husband, don’t try to defend yourself. Let him get it out.

DON’T remind him what you’ve done for him all his life. Tell him how much you love and care for him, but at the same time make him understand that you respect him for the way he is.

I am sure he knows this, but like any other teenager, he’s kind of a rebel. Whatever he tells you, try to think the way he does before you respond, and give him your answers accordingly. And don’t expect to learn everything during this first conversation. It’s just the first step and many more have to follow. It takes time, understanding, patience and effort to create a new understanding.

  Thai Idiom: Pit Thong Lang Phra

‘To put gold on the back of the holy image.’

This idiom is ancient and the concept is found in many cultures.

From ancient times, one could make merit by placing gold leaf on a holy image. Doing this showed that a person was not attached to material, but rather the ethereal.

As with most devotional customs, the idea became a contest and people with much money would make a large show, putting large amounts of gold leaf on an image to give them great ‘face’.

One very wise monk taught that this practice was wrong, and nullified any merit made.

The monk taught the people that true giving is done quietly and without thought of worldly approval or gaining face.

Anyone who really wished to make merit should put the gold leaf on the back of the image, preferably when no-one else was watching.

The giver then gained true merit.

The western equivalent might be ‘Virtue is its Own Reward’ or the Bible’s ‘Do not let the right hand know what the left hand is doing.’

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