Valentine’s Day – My Favorite Victoria’s Secret Super Model

I’ve decided to write about all of the celebrities I’ve met in my life. It’ll probably only be once a month, and I’ll crank them out until I run out of famous people.

First of all, Happy Valentine’s Day to all of my phicklephilly readers! I hope you’re in love or at least love something! If you’re not happy today, and if anyone starts talking about love, romance, hearts, cards, or chocolate, just slap them and say ‘it’s Wednesday!

It’s a coincidence and fitting that I release this piece on Valentine’s Day. Because this lady is and always will hold a special place in my heart.

This one happened about 11 years ago when I was working in Manhattan. The year was 2007.

I was sitting in a dive bar in Journal Square in Jersey City one evening after work. My buddy Howard was with me. I’m drinking a beer and reading the Daily News. On the Entertainment page was a little blurb at the bottom about how Alessandra Ambrosio was going to be making an appearance at the new Armani Exchange in Manhattan on Saturday afternoon.

I think every guy has an “It” girl in life. Some movie star, athlete, or model that they just adore. In the 70’s and 80’s for me it was Farrah Fawcett. I LOVED Farrah. I owned all of her posters starting with the famous red swimsuit. I was even a card carrying member of her fan club. Always watched Charlie’s Angels and all of her movies.

But sometime in the 90’s I noticed this one model in a Victoria’s Secret catalogue that really struck me. I didn’t know her name for several years. But once you have a woman in your life and order something from their catalogue, they never stop coming. They must send them out every couple of weeks because I had loads of them coming to the house.

I eventually found out the identity of this exquisite woman. Alessandra Ambrosio. I was in love. Her perfectly symmetrical face, with her feline eyes and lovely tawny hair is a combination that drove me nuts. I absolutely have adored Alessandra for years. I know I love beautiful women, it’s hard not to. But Alessandra to me is one of the most beautiful women on the planet.

Alessandra Ambrosio was born in Erechim, Brazil on April 11, 1981. Her parents are Brazilians of Italian, Portuguese and Polish ancestry and own a petrol station. She enrolled at a modelling class at the age of 12, and at the age of 14, she was one of 20 finalists for the 1995 Elite Model Look national competition for Brazil. Ambrosio was always insecure about her large ears, and at the age of 11, she had cosmetic surgery to have her ears pinned back, though two years later she suffered complications. In 2006, she appeared on The Tyra Banks Show, and said that the surgery was a bad experience and has discouraged her from ever getting plastic surgery again.

I would love Alessandra the same even if her ears stuck straight out like open car doors!

When Ambrosio was 12 years old, she partook in modeling classes, and then began modeling for Dilson Stein at age 15. Competing in Brazil’s Elite Model Look competition started her modeling career in earnest. Her first notable modeling job was shooting the cover of Brazilian Elle magazine. Elite passed along some of her Polaroids to Guess which led her booking the Millennium GUESS? campaign. She has since appeared in advertising campaigns for Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana, Calvin Klein, Oscar de la Renta, Christian Dior, Escada, Fendi, Giorgio Armani, Guess, Emporio Armani, Moschino, Gap, Hugo Boss, Ralph Lauren, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy’s, Revlon, and the Pirelli Calendar. She has walked the catwalks for designers such as Prada, Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Givenchy, Christian Lacroix, Bottega Veneta, Escada, Tommy Hilfiger, Christian Dior, Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton, Balmain, Ralph Lauren, Halston, Vivienne Westwood, Giles Deacon, and Oscar de la Renta. She has appeared in numerous international magazine covers, including Cosmopolitan, Elle, GQ, Harper’s Bazaar, Marie Claire, Ocean Drive, Vogue and was the only model to appear on the cover of Glamour in the United States in 2006.

“I HAVE to go to A/X Armani Exchange on Saturday and try to see her! Do you want to go with me?”

“Why the hell would I want to go meet some supermodel? I’m gay!”

“Well she’s a fashion model and I figured you guys like stuff that’s fashionable.”

“I’m gay!”

So Saturday comes and I go to the local Rite Aid and buy a disposable camera. (Yea. I had a little cell phone back then before there were any iPhones or androids and that little phone didn’t have a camera in it. That thing was probably made by Fisher Price for all I know. A lot has happened in the world of technology in the last 15 years!)

So I’ve got my little cheapo plastic throw away camera and I hop on the PATH train into Manhattan. I get off at 32nd Street and walk East over to Fifth Avenue, The store is up around 56th Street so I need to walk north about 25 blocks. That’s a little bit of a hike. But it’s Saturday in the Summer and Manhattan is quiet on the weekends.

After awhile I finally reach the store. There’s a line of people to get in. I get in line behind this Asian girl and I go, “Is this the line to see Alessandra?”

“Oh, I have no idea. I just saw a lot of people here and I wanted to see what was going on.”

What a moron. How can she not know who Alessandra Ambrosio is?

The line is moving and I get inside.

The minute I lay eyes on the super queen I involuntarily gasp. I literally sucked air sharply into my lungs like I never have before.

I can’t believe I am standing in the same room with her. I can’t believe that I’m not seeing just a photograph of my queen. I am looking upon one of the most beautiful women in the world and the only thing that’s separating she and I is space.

I’m starstruck.

She sits down and starts signing things. I’m snapping pics and my heart is pounding. I’m getting closer!

Ohh…my love. My Queen! She is stunning! They take my name and write it on a little Post It. I assume this is because they don’t want any misspellings on the pictures she’s signing.

I finally reach Alessandra!!!

 

My arm around my queen!

I introduce myself and I can’t believe I am meeting her for real. She says my name and I swoon. My name coming from Alessandra’s lovely lips.

There she is! It’s really her! I’m shaking hands with my favorite woman on Earth. I’m looking into the eyes of the object of my desire for the last 10 years. She signs the photo, and I ask if they will take a photo of me with my camera. She agrees and I hand it to her handlers. I tell them to take a few just in case.

I put my arm around her, and lean in. My hand is on her shoulder! I’m touching Alessandra! My love!

I’m so close to Alessandra, I can smell her.

This is framed in my livingroom.

I will never be the same. I leave with my little camera full of photos, and the above autographed picture.

To Charles, Love, Alessandra. (Heart. Star.)

I love her even more now. I’ve met Alessandra Ambrosio! This day has been a dream come true. I’m holding the picture and I don’t want anything to happen to it, so I run across the street into of all things, a Victoria’s Secret. (Fitting!) I approach one of the sales girls and ask if I can have a bag.

“What do you need it for?”

I hold up the photo. “To protect this autographed picture of Victoria’s Secret model, Alessandra Ambrosio.”

The chick looks like she doesn’t know who Alessandra is and hands me a bag. I gently slide my treasure inside it. (puns abound) I thank the girl and nearly skip to the PATH station.

I’ve added these delicious little videos to close out this piece. I can’t watch the first one without getting worked up. I love her so much.

I met my super queen. I never met Farrah Fawcett. I loved her so much, but I met my new queen Alessandra. It was glorious day in my short life. She’ll never know how much I love her but I met her, We got a picture together, I touched her, and smelled her.

My lovely Alessandra…

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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California Dreamin’ -1982 to 1984 – Chapter 1 – The Idea

Back in 1982, I left New Jersey in my ’69 Volkswagen mini bus for Los Angeles. I’ll tell the whole story of that journey at some point, but I wanted to intro a new series that tells some of my interesting dating and social interactions while out in California. I was only 19 years old when I left, so these stories come from a younger man’s life. We got up to some wild shit back then.

These stories contain a bit more sexually explosive content so beware fair readers.

We were young, in a band and living in L.A. What could happen?

It was a long time ago but some of these tales are worth telling.

I’ll kick it off with this one.

 

I was sitting in a little tavern with my friend Bill in North Wildwood back in the summer of ’81. It’s a nice little beer and shot neighborhood bar. Woody’s is located at 19th and New Jersey Ave. It took me a moment to remember the name and location. It was a good lunch spot and also cool to hang out at night if you wanted to stay away from the club scene.

I met Bill working on Hunt’s Pier. It’s an old amusement pier on the boardwalk. I worked on The Golden Nugget Mine Ride, which was an old roller coaster enclosed in what looked like a big old western type mine. People road in little mine cars through the ride and stuff popped out of the darkness to shock and surprise them. It’s been torn down for many years but I have so many wonderful memories to write about regarding this period of my life. I can still smell the grease of the chain that carried the mine cars to the roof of the building.

Bill worked one of the games at the front of the pier. I don’t remember how we met, but we became good friends because at the time he was the funniest guy I had ever met. We hung out outside work and Bill was just so funny to be around. Usually I’m supplying the laughs but he just had a quick wit and I loved that about him. Bill wanted to go to California and become “the next Robert DeNiro” at the end of the summer season.

I tell him I want to go to California and become a metal god. (guy that plays hard rock and metal in a band) I suggest we save our earnings and go out together. He agrees.

I was a young naïve teenager back then and fell hard for people I met. We talked all about how great it would be when we got to L.A. and became stars. We did this most of the summer.

At some point I remember my dad chatting with Bill about our plan. I had him over to meet my Dad because I was so taken with my funny amazing new friend. My Pop has a lot of experience with people.

My Dad later told me that it sounded like Bill, was a bit of a feather merchant. Someone who could attach himself to me to get a free ride out to L.A. He also said that the stories Bill had told him about things he did and said back home in South Philly, and my Dad felt those stories didn’t wash. He also felt that Bill wasn’t really saving any money for this trip that I had already saved a thousand dollars for.

Well I think somehow Bill caught wind of what my dad was feeling. (Just looking out for my best interest) and got pissed off.  I remember him saying how he really hated my father and the trip was off.

I was crushed. I loved Bill and it was like he was breaking up with me. But as I write this now, I know my Dad was right about him. Bill’s pride was hurt, he was kind of a blowhard, and he hadn’t saved any money all summer. This was his immature boy’s way out.

But all was not lost. There was another guy I worked with on the ride. Frank. He was from Belfast, Northern Ireland. He was studying law and taking a year or two off to travel and have fun before he entered law school in London. We worked together every night on the ride and became good friends.

I remember telling Frank what had happened with Bill, and he said he’d go to California with me. He was going down to Florida with some of his mates in October and they were just going to work there for a bit. Irish people can get jobs like crazy. Great people! He said that he’d be coming up to stay with his Aunt and cousin in Atlanta after the holidays. So we started to plan for that. I was happy to be going with Frank, because I liked him and knew he was trustworthy and reliable.

I never really saw or spoke to Bill ever again. Not that I hated him or anything. We just lost touch after the incident and I guess he went back to South Philly.

But I was excited that the trip to Cali was still on!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Phicklephilly Special Report: A CURE FOR CANCER? ISRAELI SCIENTISTS SAY THEY THINK THEY FOUND ONE!

https://www.jpost.com/HEALTH-SCIENCE/A-cure-for-cancer-Israeli-scientists-say-they-think-they-found-one-578939

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Wildwood Daze – 1980 – I’ve Had It With This Town

I love the summer. I’ve been dropped here against my will by some other person. My father. I have no control over my life. I have to go to school at a new school as a stranger. I know you have a problem with my dissatisfaction and depression.

I excel in school and start a band. I thrive in this shit hole you’ve dropped me off with no concept of how that will break your son’s spirit.

Janice is off in college so you’re good. If anything is of kilter your going to lose your shit and that is me.

What did you think was going to happen?

Let’s rip the 17-year-old son from all of his friends and his band from Philly and drop him off in Wildwood, New Jersey. A retirement and resort town the you already know is a deathtrap for young people.

You dropped out of high school to get away from this hell hole. You joined the army rather than turn to crime at 17. You fucking asshole that I love.

I get it. I worked in banking just like you for 30 years. You were making a bunch of bad loans at the Provident in Philly and got out when the getting was good.

You retreated to NJ. your little safe haven to escape, but you never thought of what that would do to the children in your life.

The little ones were fine. April and Gabby didnt;t know any better. But I was a senior in high school. I never got to graduate with my friends at Frankford in Philly. I had a band. You destroyed that for your little escape plan.

But what was that. You replicated your life in NJ as the regional manager at First Fidelity Bank. You’re a great manager and a great man. But you really have a taste for some of your employees, man.

I remember telling you about a girl I met once how I was in a relationship and I told you about how I had feelings for her.

You said, “Why don’t you just move on her”

I said: “Because that would be wrong. I’d be cheating on my girlfriend and that would betray her trust in me.”

You were pleased and happy with my answer.

I knew it.. because you could never be that. I could see it in your eyes you were relived that I wasn’t like you in that respect.

That respect.

Bitch, please.

If you’re unhappy in your liffe, divorce mom and just send the check and leave us the fuck alone. Then you can bag Jennifer Sweeten or as you call her “sweet meat” all you want until her husband finds out.

You’ll figure it out.

 

You and your brother Jack were dropped off here after your parents divorced. Nobody got divorced back then.

Why the hell would you think it was a good idea to drop me off in this shit hole?

Wildwood is a glistening sand castle of magical fun and romance in the summer… and then it turns into a bleak shroud of dark depression where there is nothing going on in the winter. It is a desolate hole of isolation that is impossible for a teenager to escape.

Here I am. I know you and there is a part of you that is me. Some great. Some awful. But you have the chore of raising the shitty you and now the shitty son you don’t understand who is too much like your brother Jack.

So if there were any questions as to why Chaz wanted to load up the ’69 Volkswagen minibus and drive across the country to go live in sunny California let’s put all of that to rest right now.

I love you, you selfish, self-serving prick.

I really do.

Thank you for teaching me to read. Thank you for all of the books. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for teaching me to ride a bike. Thank you for teaching me how to catch a fish. Thank you for teaching me to drive a car. Thank you for teaching me about wine, art, and literature and film. Thank you for teaching me about women. (To an extent) Thank you for everything.

I’m not going to mention all of the bad stuff here.

All ready did some of that.

 

Time to load of the 69 VW minibus and head to California.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Sun Stories – Chanel – American Gypsy – Part 1

It was late on a Wednesday night. I had worked at the salon the day before from open to close. That’s 10am to 8pm on your feet. To some that may seem like a long day, but I revel in it. I get up early, go out to breakfast then head to Wawa for all the food I need for the day. (Which is normally too much) I get a sandwich, some fruit, chips, a can of soda and a desert. That worked just fine yesterday.

The reason I had to work all day at the salon alone, was because the gym we’re trying to open in the front of our shop is in conflict with the folks upstairs.  They have a cardio gym up there and they are suing us and the landlord for $50,000 to cease and desist. It’s a joke and we know it, but Achilles needs to go to court until we resolve it.

It’ll be fine… they don’t have a leg to stand on. They’re just afraid we’ll take business from them but our fitness center is all strength training and has nothing to do with what they do.

So here I am on a Wednesday doing my thing when the phone rings. It’s around 7:00pm.

“Thank you for calling Sunlight Tanning, This is Charles, how can I help you?”

I hear a youthful, girlish voice on the line.

“Hi. I want to go tanning and I forget where you are.”

This is a common dilemma for people. We used to be up on 16th Street near Steve’s Prince of Steaks but we’ve moved down to the shopping district on Walnut Street.

“We’re at 1234 Walnut Street second floor over Shaffer’s clothing store.”

“I used to go to you to tan… near a pizza place. Where are you?”

At this moment I realize this girl formerly went to a place that was near our old location, called “Sun Myst” which is a piece of shit tanning salon that does nails, threading, cryo and who knows what else to stay afloat. Their tanning beds are junk, the staff is surly, and they are more expensive that we are. I see a potential sale here so I go in teeth out and dorsal fin up.

Oh, you mean Sun Myst near Joe’s Pizza.

Oh, yes… thank you… (Ready to hang up. Sales God instincts kick in to steal from a competitor)

We have the best equipment to get you tan and have better prices than they do. What do you pay there?”

“How much for one UV?”

“$17 for one but $40 for five and they’re good for three months.”

“Oh. I only want one to try it.”

“Okay, we have state of the equipment to get you dark.”

“Oooh I want that! Sounds good!

I’m on the wireless house phone walking into the front of our business which is the gym. The machines stand silent. We can’t open our gym because of the lawsuit. I think of that as I walk toward the  windows that over look Walnut street.  A lovely view of the shopping district. It’s alive with people. We are mired in legal troubles but it’s the only quiet space in the salon because we have no members yet.

“Do you have lotions I can use to make me darker before I tan to make my color come out?”

“We have an array of product like that. (I smile)

“Okay. Where are you again?”

“1234 Walnut Street. 2nd Floor.”

“Okay, I’ll try you guys.”

“$17 for one. $40 for five good for three months.”

” I only want to do one to try it.”

“Tell you what. You do a single and a packet of my best lotion I’ll knock 10% off so the whole experience will be $22.

“Oh my, yes! see you soon!”

“Okay, well if you get lost on the way here call us again.”

“Okay I’m Chanel. Thank you.”

“I’m Charles… nice to meet you Chanel. I hope you come to our salon.”

 

“Hey , I’m underage. I’m only 17. Can I still come?”

 

Okay, my loyal readers this is where the rubber meets the road. Because without parental consent we are breaking the law tanning a person under the age of 18.

 

“Nah it’s cool. I’ll let you tan, dear. But we just need to discuss that when you get here. Okay?

“Mmm… thank you Charles.”

 

I’m on the phone with this girl who has already been tanning at a competitor and hates the experience and has been paying too much. As a sales guy I need to destroy my competitors and covet their clients. She’s only coming in for one, so I’ll figure it out when and if she even shows up.

It’s 7:50pm which is the witching hour for tanning salons. We don’t want anybody coming in at closing because we’ll never get out of here on time.

I’m mopping the floors and folding towels out of the dryer when there is a knock at the door.

There through the glass is a very pretty Eastern European girl  in a t-shirt, sweat pants and sneakers.

“Hey, hello. I’m sorry I’m late. Are you closing? I’m Chanel.”

Chanel, the 17-year-old minor I spoke to on the phone. She was beautiful. Raven black hair. The T-shirt said I love Zombies.

 

This one looked like she was fun and trouble all rolled into one delicious pastry.

 

Tune in tomorrow for the jarring conclusion…

 

 

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Phicklephilly – 2019 – 1000 Posts! – We Did It!!!

“If you live a life that is without the elements of who you really are you will never be happy.”

I’ve just been notified by WordPress that after 2 1/2 years of writing this blog I’ve written a 1000 posts!!!

It’s been an incredible journey to finally be writing again. I started out in this life as an artist. Then a musician, and then a writer.

But life, marriage, a child, and a career removed me from all of that. Other people needed me and the bills had to be paid.

But after 10 years I decided to write again.

I created Phicklephilly in the spring of 2016 and then did nothing.

By the fall I asked myself, is this something you’re going to talk about in bars with your friends and never do? I had discussed the notion of writing a blog about my life with many of my friends. One who is a better and more visceral writer than myself.

But I started to write.

I published a post about a waitress I had been infatuated with for some time on a Monday.

I worried no one would read it or like it. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to come up with content every Monday.

But I did.

Then I started writing updates for a Wednesday release.

Once the wheel started to roll, I did what needed to be done.

I wrote.

Writing is a hard lonely existence.

It’s something that you have to push yourself to do. Especially in the beginning. But like anything you really want you push yourself to do.

You begin a fitness program and you stick with it. The muscles grow and the fat disappears. You keep at it and then it gets easier.

I started to write like mad. Cranking out content until I had something happening  few times a week.

 

Then I found other things I liked and started to write about them. The Tanning salon, Tales of Rock, Crazy dates I’d been on in the past. Celebrities I’d met, and most of all, past relationships.

Some beautiful. Some bittersweet.

I’m not a great writer, but I kept at it. Like a pilot, I put in a certain number of hours until the plane called Phicklephilly soared.

And now here I am with all of you my loyal followers and readers after two and a half  years of writing.

1000 posts and over 50,000 views!

I couldn’t be happier.

 

If you want to do something, don’t talk about it. Like Nike says: Just do it.

Write everyday.

Push yourself. Who cares who reads it. Just create and express yourself.

 

I GUARANTEE  you that if you start writing and keep at it, the rewards will be like pieces of gold falling into your lap.

When you write from the heart and tell the truth about everything in your life, (Not everything. Keep some of yourself for yourself. That belong to you.)  You will find this liberating weight lifted from your shoulders.

Get it all out. The good, the bad and the ugly. Don’t be afraid. It’s just words. But it will lighten the load you’ve been carrying around your whole life.

Once you write it down and publish it… It’s gone but not invisible. But it’s out of you for the first time in your life. It’s now safely on the paper. You can understand what you’ve experienced so much better once you write about it.

You can look back on your work and your life and it’ so much easier to process, forgive and understand.

 

Writing Phicklephilly has been the most singular liberating experience of my adult life.

 

And there is so much more to tell.

I have so much more to say.

Knowing that these stories are now out on the internet forever. Even after I’m dead it is comforting.

Because they are no longer my responsibility. WordPress carries the weight for me now.

But by writing all of these stories guarantees my immortality.

 

I don’t need that, but it’s so much to live a simple, happy, and uncluttered life once you write.

I love most of what I’ve written. Everybody knows I hate writing dating and relationship advice but I found a way to keep it going for my readers who enjoy it.

I think my followers now know that I write Phicklephilly because of my simple love of creating. I’ve always been that way since I was a child. Drawing a picture. Sculpting something out of clay. Writing a song. Writing a book and a screenplay. Creating a comic strip.

I am an entity that apparently must always be creating and am happiest when I’m doing that very thing.

“If you live a life that is without the elements of who you really are you will not be happy.”

I feel happier than I have ever felt in my entire life.

I’ve lived a big exciting life. I’ve done a lot and experienced much. But it really comes down to a few simple components for me and please take heed if you wish.

  1. Your health is essential. You have that. you’re already winning.
  2. Surround yourself with good people. Whether they are friends, family or even some wonderful pet companions.
  3. Have something to do every day that you like to do. If you hate your job, find a better one that suits your life needs. It’s a third of your life, work. Why spend your day being miserable? Do something you don’t hate every day. It’s a short life. Enjoy yourself!
  4. To love and be loved. This is a tough one. Most people need this one. Love yourself and find someone else to love. If they love you back… Awesome!
  5. Have something to look FORWARD to. I don’t care what it is. Just have something. Brunch with a friend, a red envelope arriving from Netflix, a party, a day off, something you want to do that you made time to do. 

 

That’s it.

The rest is just stuff and bullshit.

Focus on the top 5.

 

Thank you one and all for taking the time out of your busy lives to take the time to read my little blog about dating, relationships and a bunch of stuff from my life.

I wish I could throw a big party and invite each and every one of you and we could all hang out and really get to know one another.

I’ve had the joy to become friends with some of the other talented writers on WordPress and it has been an absolute delight.

So many great people on here.

I also really appreciate my friends who have read and have subscribed to Phicklephilly. I love knowing they are here with me on this journey of self discovery and I hope some of this will inspire them to push forward on their lives.

Two and a half years ago there was nothing. I decided to start to write and now this is here.

You can create anything you want. You just have to do it and do it every day.

Look what can happen if you put your mind to something.

I’m still going to try in 2019 to get a couple of books published on Amazon Kindle this year!

 

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!!!!

 

Anything can be done, and you can do it too.

Please reach out to me for anything. I’ll always get back to as fast as I can.

 

My heart is full of love.

 

Life is good and my daughter Lorelei is healthy and happy, so that’s all I need.

 

Thank you one and all. This means the world to me and I hope you continue to enjoy the content I provide in 2019 and beyond!

 

There’s so much more to the story!!!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Netflix and Marie Kondo have People (serenely) Bulldozing their Closets, and Thrift Stores are Riding the Wave

 

I love her and I’m going to do this to my place in Rittenhouse!

 

https://www.cnn.com/2019/01/12/entertainment/marie-kondo-konmari-tidying-up-netflix-trnd/index.html

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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