The Sport I Wish I Never Learned
Self magazine asked me to write an essay about one aspect of what was to be my soon-to-be-published memoir, "Looking for a Fight," about how violence learned cannot be unlearned. The rueful expression on my face isn't regret over my choice of sport, it was the thought of how much money was being spent that afternoon on the photo of me that would accompany the article. Let's see...calculating the cost of a Winnebago to drive me, the make-up artist, hair stylist, photographer and photographer's assistant to Central Park, and for the caterer who would meet us there for lunch, versus my rate per word to write the article, (not that I was paid a model fee, which meant I was the only person at the shoot who was not being paid to be there,) means the photo that took up 25% of the page cost perhaps ten times what was paid for the words surrounding it. Not that I'm bitter.
