Mr. Happy

Bobby loved going with me to the parties I was worked due to my public relations profession. He definitely had a taste for the high life. As long as Bobby had a drink in his hand, he could chat it up with anyone. He was most at ease in a room full of strangers. It was my close friends and family members that seemed to make Bobby nervous. I felt just the opposite.

The happy, loving couple, Sean Penn and Madonna, who I frequently saw cuddled up next to each other in the front seat of his truck, started having daily arguments with each other. We could hear their voices echo from the castle building across the street. Apparently, our newlywed celebrity neighbors were hitting a rough patch in their marriage.  

The situation between me and Bobby was not much better and I began to wonder about this man who had moved into my tiny space. He was having a difficult time getting a new band together and was taking his frustrations out on me. His constant put downs were taking their toll on me. He complained about my looks, my intelligence, my job, even my dog Blondie was criticized. At first, I just let his comments roll off my back but in no time, I was struggling to stay positive myself. 

When I told my friend Berry Berenson Perkins that we were having problems, she suggested Bobby speak with her husband, Tony, best known for his role of Norman Bates in the Psycho films. What the public didn't know about Tony was his wisdom and knowledge of human behavior. I found out later that Tony had years of therapy which helped him understand and help others.

Bobby jumped at the chance to be counseled by the famous celebrity. But, before he left for his first session, Bobby drank an entire six-pack of beer. I was totally disgusted with his behavior and hopeful that Tony could set him straight.

“I’ve got to focus,” Bobby told me after meeting with Tony. “I’ve got to make a plan and stick to it. I can do it. Tony says I can climb that mountain.” Bobby returned seeming self confident and positive about life but within days, he was back to his crabby self. I called him “Mr. Happy” because he sulked around, so negative all the time. I didn't have a clue that his pessimistic attitude was rubbing off on me.