Tag Archives: Amy Gill

princesses anonymous


Hello.. My name is Jim Corbett and I’m addicted to princesses…. wait… Let’s start over.

So – it was one of my days to work from home and I get a call from boss-lady needing a favor requiring me…. my camera… and a couple of hours… ok.

Apparently the women’s restrooms on the course at her country club have dreadful interior decoration.

Now how exactly the connection was made to replace the old ratty silk flower arrangements with photographs of the course, – I don’t know…. But leave it to her to bring her pet art director to snap a few shots instead of simply buying something from the unsettlingly large image-bank of golf course images out there.

But that’s o.k. – because the solution fit her… just like her hot pink flip-flops…. just like my recently confirmed, lovingly-assigned label for her: PRINCESS.

It finally occurred to me… All of my girl-friends are princesses.. Elise… Jeanette… Julie…. Shannon… Leah… Amy…. Princesses. One and all.

Rightfully so I guess… I don’t think I could relate to the textbook, subordinate, insecure, self-doubting, keep ’em barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen type female.

So I got to the plushy country club and located the boss… She parked her kids with the au pair and we tore off in a golf cart.

Note about golf carts. (Specifically when you’re a passenger in one piloted by a speed-queen who was raised on them):

HIGH CENTERS OF GRAVITY FEEL FUNNY WHEN YOU’RE TAKING CURVES,…. at.. well what couldn’t have been any faster than 8 miles an hour – but it was enough to make me squeal… (which I swear made her go faster).

We drove all 18, stopping to snap shots when I’d see them or when she’d need to joke and carry on with folks we passed, (*who weren’t in the middle of trying to take a shot).

Amy… Think young Auntie Mame. A fearless blond tearing through on a cart and playfully giving hell to anyone in her way. The nutty eccentric gal in this little closed culture of traditionally stodgy old white guys… The contrast was nothing short of performance art.

Note about country clubs and the affluent that frequent them: I spent a fair amount of attention simply listening to people and observing while I was there…. Wow… Talk about OUT-OF-TOUCH… Of course there’s exceptions – but I had to bite my tongue more than once while eavesdropping to keep from bolting out in laughter.

Nonetheless… I got my shots… Mission accomplished… Favor fulfilled… Another odd life-experience added to the list.

Note about this blog: It doesn’t exist.

day 1. part 3


I was so tired that it felt like I had just laid my head down on the pillow for a moment when I heard Amy call out.. “Corbett! Get up we gotta go!!!”

To celebrate the closing on the resort and christen the second (newly commissioned) pirate ship – we had a party cruise aboard what is now called the Anne-Bonnie.

It was a smaller get together… the party of 30 comprised the gang from St. Louis… The Cayman management… boss owner types and their families and some real estate big shots.

The water was a lot calmer in the evening than earlier that day… Good thing too because I didn’t have a chance to stop by a drug-store and find one of those sea-sickness patches.

A nice spread of food was laid out in the galley, and a friendly, busty blonde manned the open bar and we, literally, sailed into the sunset.

All in all it was about a 3 hour cruise.

(resist urge to sing and make Gilligan’s Island references).

At about hour two, once my memory sticks were filled I got super schmoopy thinking how incredible the experience was followed by a little teary guilt wishing the guys were with me.

Erin helped pull my head outa my ass and we spent the remainder of the cruise chatting.

Hit a monkey-themed bar for ho-hum munchies and drinks before hitting my pillow later.

The day felt like a week.

This however does not feel like a blog.