Jack Palance on TV. The Lodger. I sat on his lap when I was one year old. Encino. A dentist’s office. He cooed. I grinned. No blood was shed. Later I found his copy of Henny Youngman’s party jokes at an antique store in Bakersfield. Five dollars. I cooed. I grinned. But now I can’t find it. Maybe it never happened. I don’t remember sitting in his lap either. I was too young. Perhaps my mother lied. Mothers do that in old Jack Palance movies. They lie. Hide things. Have secrets. The truth is twisted, warped, dark. Too many shadows. Like Rita Hayworth with a gun in a fun house mirror. She didn’t want to die. She did. But I digress. And now Jack Palance is lying to Aunt Bea. Life is cruel, hard. Jack Palance cooed. I grinned. And I didn’t even get a selfie.