Not long ago, I was in Los Angeles and visiting Tink on the set of a television show that he was executive producing. We sat side-by-side in director chairs, watching as the scene was set up and actors took their place. I looked across Tink to see a woman studying me carefully. I smiled.
She tilted her head then asked, “Are you Mrs. Tinker?”
I smiled bigger. “Yes, I am.”
She nodded, silently studying me. “I thought so. You’re Southern, right?” There was no smile, no social engaging from her. I felt like a rat in a laboratory examination.
Again, “Yes, I am.” Read More»