SybilSez...

Sybil Bruncheon has been performing on stage, radio, TV, film, and in various Vaudeville, burlesque, church basement, county fair, and sideshow....uh..."venues" for most of her 29 years. She is available for bookings for just about anything and can be reached at bruncheon@hotmail.com and on her website sybilbruncheon.com. She is a proud member of the Actors Equity Association and the Screen Actors Guild. Her erdo number is 16.

Here I am as a child in my first car driving Mr. Pinky to our wonderful clubhouse where other children would gather for a busy day of "advanced armament fort-building", "cowboys, Indians, and League of Nations arbitrators", "draping and fashion modeling with Silly Putty and drugs", and, my favorite, "Strip Old Maid". On the way, Mr. Pinky and I had a terrible accident over near the Dalrymple estate.... I don't remember everything, but it seems I crashed through a privet hedge and down an embankment into their three acre sand box..... Luckily, good old Pinky was thrown clear before my Mini-Duesenberg rolled over three times and burst into flames. As you can see, I was wearing my Fruit-of-the-Loom Asbestos Jumper....I was lucky, yes, and pulled to safety by three cub scouts who happened to be playing cops, robbers, and EMT workers, but the police saw my purple tongue and the empty bottles of Welch's grape juice in the back...I was later cited for DWI and talking on a tin can and string while operating a vehicle.... The judge handed down a mandatory sentence of 6 months hard labor at pot-holder making and selling Girl Scout cookies...door-to-door! I was totally humiliated!

Later, Mr. Pinky became my designated driver during my probation... Even in college, years later, we never spoke of it again…

[postscript: Mr. Pinky was one of the most trusted figures in my large and disparate family. Even here in this photo, you can see this wasn’t his first trip to that clubhouse. You can see a world-weary look in those in those kind brown eyes. He had a wise, old soul that was thousands of years old in... um... well, a six year old dog's body, but it's all in the eyes there, isn't it? He never complained ...and of course, he had his own troubles with a family of flea-bag drunkards, table-scrap stealers, slipper-chewers, all-night yowlers, inveterate biters, outdoor urinators, and back-alley humpers. It's a miracle he was such a good and faithful companion and so scholarly, especially in Archaeology, (or some sort of digging-thing) at which he excelled. He was a saint. A SAINT!... My father retired Pinky to a wonderful, little maisonette on a cliff overlooking Tiberius’ palace in Capri. He lived to be 88, (which is 616 in dog years!) and had a devoted staff of loving servants, a brilliant chef, and a dog-walker that all made his life a perfect Heaven for him… I was lucky even to have known him.]

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