What Happens on Wednesday Stays on Wednesday

Up until this morning, the only thing I knew about Jean Harlow was her name. Or so I thought. Turns out her name was Harlean. Darrell Rooney wrote the book on Jean Harlow. Harlow In Hollywood. He came to visit us at the Los Angeles Breakfast Club today (Penny and I are the newest members, the greenest eggs of the Ham n Eggs), to bring us up to date on the original Blonde Bombshell. This being the Breakfast Club, we sat down for breakfast, this week at the Rooster Table (every table has a name, some more elaborate than others, like the Nurse Adjacent table). That’s just the beginning! After eating, there’s calisthenics, the Flag Salute, funny songs. Visitor introductions, like Jimmy Angel, rockabilly idol with the Roy Orbison shag rug on his head. A trophy for best introduction of a visitor. The Club’s even got its own mysterious cryptogram.

Oh, and those songs? They stick in your head, like a 1920s Purple Haze, well beyond the confines of the meeting:

Ham n Eggs all in my brain
Lately things don't seem the same
Actin' funny, but I don't know why
'Scuse me while I kiss the sky

Back to Jean Harlow. She packed a lot of life into twenty-six years. She even visited the Los Angeles Breakfast Club when it was an all-men’s club. Married three times. One of her husbands died of a gunshot to the head. Maybe it was suicide. And then the scarlet fever caught up to her.