The title of Sachi Parker’s autobiography, Lucky Me: My Life with – and Without – My Mom, Shirley MacLaine is imbued with a tone just as sharp and double-sided as the author’s relationship with her parents.
Being the only daughter of the famous Hollywood actress Shirley MacLaine had its perks – but it also had its drawbacks and strains on Parker’s perception of a healthy family life. And while MacLaine is still alive and acting, Parker tries to cope with the fact that her mother and father were never as present as she had hoped. Her story is one of grandiose episodes, but also one of loss and grief for “a family [that was] nowhere in sight.”
Writing Lucky Me must have been a cathartic effort for Parker; she could grieve for the parents she never really had (though not everyone was a fan of, including MacLaine herself).
Writing Lucky Me must have been a cathartic effort for Parker; she could grieve for the parents she never really had (though not everyone was a fan of, including MacLaine herself). It would certainly explain why the book’s tone is decidedly passive aggressive – which, though understandable, doesn’t necessarily make for a more readable book. For example, Parker discusses her mother’s decision to send her to Japan with her father when she was just a baby, saying that “Given [my mother’s alleged] parental pride, it was all the more puzzling that she would have just let me go.” Years later, she recalls the moment in which she asked her mother why she sent her away, only to receive a long-winded explanation. It was something rooted in MacLaine’s friendship with Sinatra and the Rat Pack, she says. Apparently, Sinatra “had crossed somebody somewhere…[and] one of the rumors circulating was that Shirley MacLaine’s daughter was in jeopardy of being kidnapped,” and hence, it was off to Japan. “I was skeptical about this story,” she says, “After all, the mob knew where Japan was. And why Frank Sinatra would’ve cared whether I was kidnapped was never clear to me.” In any event, she says no one “ever thought to bring me back [home to LA]” except for during summers.
“Sinatra had crossed somebody somewhere…[and] one of the rumors circulating was that Shirley MacLaine’s daughter was in jeopardy of being kidnapped…”
– Sachi Parker
The subject of her father, Steve, carries a similar sort of baggage. He was charming in a Clark Gable sort of way, filled with a contagious joie de vivre. But behind his charisma was a serious drinking problem and, most gravely, a history of sexually abusing Parker. He died from lung cancer in 2001 in Hawaii.
“I never had the Hollywood happy ending I always wanted,” writes Parker on her relationship with both parents. Unfortunately, this is the problem with Parker’s book: the voice is still deeply steeped in the anger of Parker’s grieving period. This aspect, when accompanied by the sensational stories of growing up with MacLaine, tend to make the book unreadable.
“I never had the Hollywood happy ending I always wanted…”
– Sachi Parker
That being said, Lucky Me made me feel grateful: Grateful for the friends and family members who make an effort to be mindful and present with one another. It reminded me to be as open as possible with my family while I can, particularly in avoidance of the ugly grudges that will worm their way into your grieving period when someone dies.
One critic described Lucky Me as, “more juicy than ripe watermelon,” which is certainly true. But if you pick up a copy of the book, may it also be a means for you to appreciate all that is sane in your life. Let it be a reminder of the fact that your relationships, while hectic at times, probably won’t reach the level of Lucky Me zany.
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