The book is about a southern Licensed Massage Therapist named Ms. Linnie Delmar. She uses her unusual unique style and different massage therapy techniques that sets her apart from all the others. She has worked with over 10 motion picture production companies and has traveled around the world working with well known A-list actors all of which have interesting stories to tell. She considers herself to be the female version of Forrest Gump due to doors continue to open for her because she has always been at the right place at the right time throughout her life of thrills and adventure. She has also managed to have four husbands on her life's journey. She wants women to listen to their inner spirit and pay attention to the warning signs that a mistake is on the way. Find out how she found her place and purpose in life without having a man to define her as the person she is today. She wants women to learn from the mistakes she has made about falling for a good looking, smooth talking, man who will steal your heart and try to trash your soul. Follow her into the light of life and happiness that were like ashes in the wind to her wild past and gave her the courage and strength to look forward to her future. Her story may inspire you, it may amuse you, but it will never bore you! Linnie's southern humor will entertain you and make you laugh with joy and cry with heartbreak!

DIVORCED on the Redneck Riviera

By Linnie Delmar

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Ms. Linnie Delmar
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-4340-1

Contents

Prologue The Awakening...............................................................xiChapter 1. The Path Begins at a Broken Home.........................................1Chapter 2. Husband #1—Donnie, My First Love...................................19Chapter 3. Moving to the Redneck Riviera............................................37Chapter 4. Husband #2—Merle the Pearl.........................................51Chapter 5. Moving to Fairhope and Starting Over Again...............................71Chapter 6. Husband #3—Falling in Love with Rich...............................99Chapter 7. Moving to New Orleans and Starting Over Again............................121Chapter 8. Husband #4—Tony the Pony...........................................137Chapter 9. Moving to Atlanta and Starting Over Again................................153Chapter 10. Moving Back Home to Fairhope and Starting Over Again.....................167Chapter 11. Movie Stars That Miss Linnie Rubbed the Right Way!.......................177Chapter 12. End of My Journey........................................................191

Chapter One

THE PATH BEGINS AT A BROKEN HOME

The tempests in my life began with my birth, which maybe was a foreshadowing of things to come. I was born after a very long, hard labor involving many back-breaking hours and lots of pain. Isn't that the same story every mother tells about labor?

I was finally delivered by a young navy doctor. I wasn't breathing at all and had turned completely blue. They all thought I was dead. This young intern was determined that his first delivery wasn't going to die. He performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation until I began to breathe on my own. Mama was screaming in horror, not knowing if I was dead or alive. She was a nervous wreck.

The young doctor made a big mistake and mentioned to Mama that I had already turned blue before he brought me back to life. From that day forward, every mistake I ever made was blamed on me being born a blue baby. If I have heard it once, I have heard it a million times. She would say in a low whisper, "You know, after all, she was born a blue baby." To this day, I still don't want to believe what I think it means. Of course, the way Mama says it, I am led to believe that since I was born a blue baby, I'm not the brightest bulb in the box; I'm one brick shy of a full load or one goose shy of a gaggle. I have always been called the pretty one while my other two sisters are called the smart ones. Since the day I was born, I have been trying to prove to Mama that her blue baby can be both pretty and smart, just like her.

Before my parents met and had me, they already had interesting stories of their own. My mother, a true Southern lady in every respect, is from Mobile, Alabama, and my biological father is a Yankee from Akron, Ohio. Other than both of them being very attractive, smart, and blessed with the most beautiful blue eyes you will ever see, they had nothing in common.

She had an adventuresome soul. The first real job she got was as a secretary at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C, where she was one of the youngest interns ever hired. She had no idea at the time that she was working in one of the largest buildings in the world. She was always late for work because she got lost every day trying to find her office—all the hallways looked the same. She took it upon herself to take her roller skates to work to wear so that she could find her office faster. Her boss was so impressed that he told her it was okay and to tell the other ladies that they could do the same in order for all of them to be on time for work. She started a trend that continued the entire time she worked there.

As a shy Southern transplant, she had many thrilling experiences. One of the best was visiting New York City and being in Times Square when it was announced that the Korean War was over. Everyone started kissing in the streets. I can see her now with her natural blonde hair, those exquisite blue eyes, a high-fashion outfit, and high heels, loving every minute of it.

Mom and Dad met at a skating rink when he was stationed in Pensacola, Florida. Both of them were accomplished skaters since childhood. He fell hard for her Southern charm and natural beauty.

When he was transferred to San Francisco, he begged her to follow him out there. With the same adventurous spirit that had led her to Washington, D.C., she agreed to move to the West Coast. It was a long train ride away. When her worried family sent her off, her grandma gave her one hundred dollars and told her, "You be careful of those strange people on that train." She followed Grandma's advice and pinned her money on the outside of her bra. But she fell asleep during the night and woke to find her money gone. Someone took her money right out of her bra. She was out of her environment and totally broke. What a mess! A nice navy man came to her rescue and loaned her a dollar to make a phone call to Dad so that he could come pick her up at the train station.

My mom and dad were married in beautiful San Francisco in 1945 by the same justice of the peace who, in later years, married Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio—in the same building, even the same room. How romantic was that?

After that exciting start, they moved to depressing Akron, Ohio, the rubber capital of the world and site of the home offices of the Goodyear and Firestone tire companies. My parents rented a small one-bedroom apartment that, in no time, Mama made into a charming home for the both of them. On a windy day, the smell of rubber was in the air to the point that it made Mama sick sometimes. It was very cold with lots of snow in Akron. Because Mama was raised on the warm, beautiful Gulf Coast of Mobile, she hated the cold so much. She felt cold most of the time and really disliked the snow. She was so homesick. She missed her mother and father and the warm sunshine and Southern hospitality of Alabama.

Because my dad was gone so much working, Mama suffered from extreme loneliness and depression. All she thought about was having a baby, a wish that was realized in 1948—after a move to Portsmouth, Virginia—with my dramatic birth on the navy base. They moved into a two-bedroom apartment that she made into the perfect little nest to bring me home to. I was the only grandchild on my dad's side of the family, so I was spoiled by my granny and by my mom and dad. My mama made most of my beautifully detailed baby clothes. My granny gave me a gold necklace and bracelet that I wore every day, and she liked to dress me up as often as possible.

At age four, I was so tired of being an only child and lonely, I kept bringing kids home from our neighborhood. I begged Mama to get me a baby sister. Finally, my beautiful baby sister Valerie was born. I was so happy because, even though I was only four years old, I wanted to care for her and protect her as a big sister should. This is a recurring theme in my life—taking care of others. To this day, my sister is still very important to me; she's a huge part of my life.

Val and I slept in the same tiny bedroom together, and after Mama would put us to bed, I would climb into Val's baby bed, pull her out, and put her in my bed with me to keep her warm and safe. I held her as close as I could to my tiny little body. I changed her diaper and dressed her in her finest outfit.

We had cement floors in our tiny two-bedroom apartment. Mama still talks about how I was able to carry around my baby sister and never drop her. She also told me how, from the early age of four, she knew I was different. I would have Val dressed in a uniquely different outfit every day. I always loved dressing up, and I made sure Val was dressed to the nines every day too! To this day, I still love dressing up and changing clothes, with a fresh new look and hairstyle and makeup to match each outfit.

From an early age, I was always neat, tidy, and organized. I would make sure all of our toys were put away and our bedroom was shipshape each night before we went to bed. I also had a habit from a very young age of giving some of my toys, clothes, and household goods to friends and neighbors.

This habit continues to this day, because it makes me feel so good inside to share anything I have and give away anything I think someone might need.

These were the first signs Mama noticed of the ADD and OCD that would cause me lots of problems in school and in my adult life. The OCD, which my friends see as a blessing of being organized and sharing, turned into a real positive attribute in my career as an LMT in my adult years. Details are so important, and I don't overlook any—especially when I am doing a massage treatment on my clients.

When I was just getting used to having a baby sister to love and take care of, my mama decided to divorce my dad. Mama planned to leave and move back to Mobile, to live with her mother and father. Valerie was just six months old. Mama couldn't stand any more cold weather, but most of all, she had had enough of my father being so jealous and insecure and very hard to get along with. My family life and the world as I knew it were about to change.

All of this made me feel so sad, and it was very hard for me to understand why my mama wanted to leave my dad and not take him with her. But the worst was yet to come.

The night before the big move back to Mobile, Mama told me she was not able to take me with her.

"Honey, I can't take you with me," my mother said that night. "I have to work. Nanny and Grandpa can take care of Valerie, but you are too active. They can't keep up with both of you at the same time."

I can remember so well how sad and scared I felt that night. If my mama and my beloved baby sister were going away from my dad, why did I have to stay with my dad? As an adult, I totally understand why she did what she had to do. She had no money, no job, and no place to live other than with her parents. She had no choice other than to leave me behind. At four years old, though, I was thinking I would never see them again.

"Why can't I go?" I begged.

"You just can't. I am so sorry. I explained it to you." Maybe she did, but it didn't make sense to me.

It broke my heart to see the moving van drive away. I screamed and cried, "Please don't leave me, Mama," as she took my baby sister and waved good-bye. I thought they were gone forever.

The next day, my dad and I moved into a damp two-bedroom basement apartment with his mother, who managed the large apartment building.

Granny was so happy to have us move in with her. She loved the fact that my dad could be her handyman at the apartment building. Dad worked full-time at the Goodyear Tire Company, but in his spare time he was Mr. Fixit for the tenants. I was alone all day with my granny.

Granny turned out to be the best grandmother I could have ever wished for. Each and every day I could feel her love for me, and I loved her right back. I had all her of her attention, and I loved her dearly now more than ever. She was a good role model for me at that age, and I knew she would never leave me like Mama did.

"I love you, baby," she would say, and I knew she meant it. The problem was that I missed my mama and my baby sister so terribly that I was sad and depressed all the time. I was so miserable that I couldn't eat and had trouble sleeping. Because of this heartbreak, I was often sick during the two years I lived with Granny. I was so thin, frail, and weak. I had multiple earaches and bad colds most all the time.

My granny would rock me to sleep so many cold nights, blowing warm air in my ears to stop the continuous pain. Without her love and concern, I think I might have died—not only from being so sick but also from loneliness and misery from missing Mama and my baby sister, Val.

Being from a broken home started a pattern that was set for me for the rest of my life. Mama had four husbands later in her life. I, too, would have four husbands in my adult life as well.

At age four, though, all I wanted was to have my family together again like it was before—me and my baby sister, Val, in the tiny two-bedroom apartment Mama had made into a warm, cozy home for us.

It wasn't long after Mama left that my dad remarried, but I still stayed with granny. Granny and I would play games together. The best game of all was playing house and having real tea parties. We would use her finest china and crystal, because somehow she always knew that I would never drop or break anything. I was always so careful and organized while putting things back in their proper place, like she had taught me to do. My granny also taught me good manners. She was a beautiful woman who loved me with all her heart.

My new stepmother, who also worked full-time at Goodyear like my dad did, acted like she hated me and saw me as an inconvenience, but that was through the eyes of a four-year-old. On the other hand, my granny saw me as nothing but a joy that had come into her life. My dad was an only child, and Granny was thrilled to have me, telling me often, "Child, you're the greatest blessing I could have in my old years." I felt warm, safe, and loved every time she held me close to her.

My stepmother never had any children and was much older than my dad. In later years, she tried her best to be nice to Valerie and me because we were nice to her. We always knew she didn't really love us. She did love my dad though and, to this day, is a wonderful wife to him. I thank God that he has her and they have each other and are totally devoted to each other. I have tried to keep in touch with both of them through the years, but they don't want to be a part of my life or Val's. They have made that very clear to us. That's their loss, and we have done all we can to love them throughout the years.

Finally, after two long years, my mama came to Ohio to get me and take me to my real home in Mobile, Alabama. I was six and Val was two years old. It was the best day of my young life, knowing I would have my family together again. Mama had married again, and her new husband, Arnold (we named him Papa), was the perfect man for Mama and perfect stepdad for Val and me in every way. From the first time I met him, I could feel the love! He and Mama had gone on a honeymoon to Niagara Falls, and I thank God they came by to pick me up on the way back to Mobile. When Mama saw me, her first comment was how skinny and pitiful I looked. I did look like a tiny sad little skinny person who needed a lot of love and healing after being away from my mama and baby sister for so long. I cherished the thought of having my family with me each and every day. God, I was glad to see them. I had been in a car wreck at age six with my dad and had lost most of my teeth. But teeth or no teeth, I felt like a million dollars, and I couldn't get that big goofy smile off my tiny little face!

Papa was so good to his two new stepdaughters! He was by far the coolest man I have ever seen. He was six feet two inches tall and about one hundred seventy-five pounds. He was extremely good-looking and a sharp dresser from head to toe. His shoes always looked new and were always shined. His clothes were always starched and ironed. He was soft-spoken, and best of all, he was rich! Mama had married well, and finally we could have the life she wanted us to have thanks to Papa! He was in every sense of the word a true Southern gentleman and a Christian man who loved to read the Bible to us as often as possible. He taught us the true value of life and how to have a loving family.

He also loved music and played the harmonica while Mama played the piano. They always drove new Cadillacs, one for him and one for her. We also had a summer home on the Little Lagoon in Gulf Shores, Alabama, where we spent every summer. We always had a big boat to ski behind and a smaller boat to shrimp with. Papa made sure we knew how to swim, ski, and drive a boat at a very young age because we lived on the water in the summertime. Papa did everything he could do to spoil all the women in his life.

Papa owned a huge grocery store in Mobile. I loved the idea of never having to pay for anything. When we went there, I would always load up with candy when Mama wasn't looking. Since I was the ringleader and it was free, I would always get enough candy for Val and my brand new baby sister, Kim, and of course, a lot for me, too. I have always had a sweet tooth.

Now that I was ten years old, Kim was like my real-life baby doll. Just like I wanted to do with Val, it was my job to protect and take care of both of them, and if I do say so myself, I did a darn good job! I taught both of them how to organize their bedrooms and keep them as clean as our fulltime maid, Miss Sealy, did. One year for Christmas, Mama and Papa made the mistake of buying me huge chalkboard. I thought to myself, I will enforce and instruct my sisters how to properly organize and clean their rooms the right way. I wanted their rooms to look like mine, which was perfect. The problem was, they had no signs of having OCD. It was like pulling teeth to get them to think like me, doing it the Linnie way. At age ten, I thought my way was the only way. With them fighting and screaming the whole time, I taught them the proper skills to clean their rooms. I would give it the white-glove test and then grade them. They hated that and probably hated me for making them do it. I would give them a grade from one to ten, with ten being the best grade they could get, which wasn't very often. One time I made the mistake of going behind Miss Sealy and giving her a grade of eight instead of a ten, and of course I was wearing my famous white glove. To say the least, the next day my chalkboard was thrown to the curb, and I never found the white glove again. That ended my days of being the best drill sergeant I could be to my beloved sisters.

I also taught them how to perform in a talent show and not be shy by singing and dancing each Sunday after church for Mama and Papa. We would stand on the brick fireplace hearth that was raised up like a stage and sing, dance, and show off any talent that I would tell them to do—always with my help and supervision, of course.

From an early age, I never liked following the usual rules, so I would make up my own set of rules for my sisters and me. My set of Linnie's Rules also applied to all my cousins, especially Wanda, Debbie, and George Ann, who stayed with us a lot. They too did everything I told them to do. Of course, I stayed in trouble with Mama most of my life—she always knew that if something went wrong, it was my fault. After all, I was the blue baby.

Mama did throw me a crumb every so often and give me a compliment. She told everyone how good I was about going up to anyone and starting a conversation. She said that I talked to people as if I had known them for years, because I loved people so much. To this day, I have never met a stranger I didn't like.

"You also have the nerve of Dick Tracy," she always said ... whatever the hell that meant! Of course, the way she said it made me feel like I was one goose shy of a gaggle and one brick shy of a full load.

Having the nerve of Dick Tracy, plus my positive attitude, has opened up many doors for me throughout my lifetime. From early childhood and into adulthood, the thrill of a new exciting experience and stepping out of that box that some call "normal" was what I looked forward to every day of my fun-filled life.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from DIVORCED on the Redneck Rivieraby Linnie Delmar Copyright © 2010 by Ms. Linnie Delmar. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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