Jodie Foster is My Twin Sister
It's a little known fact that Jodie Foster is my twin sister.
Get out of town I can practically hear you say. But it's true. The Academy Award winning, husky-voiced actress of such seminal works as Foxes and Freaky Friday (the original) and your very own Mommy with a Penis are sibs.
This out-of-left-field revelation might not be too hard to swallow considering Little Sis's (I'm older by fourteen minutes) penchant for privacy. But with her unusual and perhaps inappropriate coming out at the Golden Globes, I thought I'd shed some light onto this lesser known fact and come out a little myself.
I can understand if there are nonbelievers out there, so I submit to you the facts: most obviously we have the same last name, we are exactly the same age (which she blurted over and over at the beginning of her Golden Globe speech, thanks a lot Jode), we are both children of California, and we both prefer to cavort with our own gender. And if that doesn't satisfy you, take a gander at this...
This was taken when we were eleven or twelve. The same baby blues, the same freckles, the same exuberant smile with wonky teeth, the same hair swoop, the same inexplicable love of plaid! Case closed. Twins!
Jodie's name has become synonymous with hard work, gritty determination and off-the-charts intelligence. And truth be told, she does have a higher IQ than I do. One Easter, when we were five, we got two live ducklings in our Easter baskets. They were soft and fuzzy, and I wanted to name her duckling Jack and my duckling Jill. But Jodie being the brainiac that she's always been would have none of that. She insisted on Abelard and Heloise, and she wanted us to speak to them seulement en français. Now Jodie was a tough little girl who intimidated the fuck out of me so, of course, she won out. But after a couple of weeks, I gathered up my nerve and when I thought Jodie wasn't looking, I rebelled and cooed to Heloise in English, calling her Jill. Shortly after that, Jill/Heloise mysteriously disappeared.
In 1977, I was forced to go to a boarding school in the Monterey Peninsula (Jodie was shooting a movie in France and the family felt they had to put me somewhere for safe keeping). My best buddy at the school was a stout lad named Fred. And for kicks Fred and I would beg for money from unsuspecting shoppers at the Del Monte Center. We quickly found out we'd make more money if we created scenarios, like we needed bus fare to go to the hospital because I forgot to take my [fill in disease here] medication. After an evening of begging, we'd usually have enough to treat ourselves to chocolate covered cherries from See's Candy or an Orange Julius that we'd split. But at some point we realized that our wildly spun fictions were made more lucrative when incorporating the truth, "I need cab fare to get my medication which is being held by my twin sister, Jodie Foster." That would score us enough to buy the See's candy, two Orange Juliuses and a medium combination pizza at Round Table with a side salad.
On the Golden Globe Awards, Jodie was given the Cecil B. DeMille Award. Much has been said about her speech, but being her brother I think I have a unique perspective. Firstly, her coming out made me incredibly proud. Jodie may not have succinctly stated, "I'm a big lez pot," but I find it ridiculous that there are those who are criticizing her for being oblique. On prime time national television, in a time slot that was heard around the world, she unmistakably spoke her homosexual truth...and her single status reality.
Some people condemned that the speech rambled, but I have to disagree. Those words were strategically chosen. They were placed under a microscope, carefully examined from every angle, welded and pounded, not a thought, not a beat, not a syllable out of place, until they held up like an exquisite piece of chain mail. She said what she had to say in exactly the manner she intended, throwing down the gauntlet, daring anyone, anyone, to speak out against her, all the while clad an Armani gown that (purposely?) resembled body armor.
I just wish she incorporated a dollop of humility. Where was the "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for the..." or the "I am humbled to have been bestowed such an..."? Because let's face it, she lucked into this profession. Now, I'm not being cruel. Any actor who's "made it" has a four-leafed clover hidden away somewhere. More than looks, or talent, or hard work, there's a right place at the right time aspect to this business, and to acknowledge that, to wink to the actors who are as good looking, as talented, and as hard working but have to accept jobs as caterers, mechanics and pet psychics to get by would have been welcome.
And lastly, I have to admit that I am bent out of shape she didn't mention me. A missing duckling does a lot to damage trust and our relationship never fully recovered after that event, but we are blood after all.
So, Jodie got her DeMille, yippee for her, and my family got the cover of a national magazine. (Mine was in my mailbox last Monday!) I know, I've mentioned this before, but it's finally on a newsstand near you. You can find it at the Natural Child World website, Barnes and Noble, or if you're lucky my son's doctor's office.
Get out of town I can practically hear you say. But it's true. The Academy Award winning, husky-voiced actress of such seminal works as Foxes and Freaky Friday (the original) and your very own Mommy with a Penis are sibs.
This out-of-left-field revelation might not be too hard to swallow considering Little Sis's (I'm older by fourteen minutes) penchant for privacy. But with her unusual and perhaps inappropriate coming out at the Golden Globes, I thought I'd shed some light onto this lesser known fact and come out a little myself.
I can understand if there are nonbelievers out there, so I submit to you the facts: most obviously we have the same last name, we are exactly the same age (which she blurted over and over at the beginning of her Golden Globe speech, thanks a lot Jode), we are both children of California, and we both prefer to cavort with our own gender. And if that doesn't satisfy you, take a gander at this...
This was taken when we were eleven or twelve. The same baby blues, the same freckles, the same exuberant smile with wonky teeth, the same hair swoop, the same inexplicable love of plaid! Case closed. Twins!
Jodie's name has become synonymous with hard work, gritty determination and off-the-charts intelligence. And truth be told, she does have a higher IQ than I do. One Easter, when we were five, we got two live ducklings in our Easter baskets. They were soft and fuzzy, and I wanted to name her duckling Jack and my duckling Jill. But Jodie being the brainiac that she's always been would have none of that. She insisted on Abelard and Heloise, and she wanted us to speak to them seulement en français. Now Jodie was a tough little girl who intimidated the fuck out of me so, of course, she won out. But after a couple of weeks, I gathered up my nerve and when I thought Jodie wasn't looking, I rebelled and cooed to Heloise in English, calling her Jill. Shortly after that, Jill/Heloise mysteriously disappeared.
In 1977, I was forced to go to a boarding school in the Monterey Peninsula (Jodie was shooting a movie in France and the family felt they had to put me somewhere for safe keeping). My best buddy at the school was a stout lad named Fred. And for kicks Fred and I would beg for money from unsuspecting shoppers at the Del Monte Center. We quickly found out we'd make more money if we created scenarios, like we needed bus fare to go to the hospital because I forgot to take my [fill in disease here] medication. After an evening of begging, we'd usually have enough to treat ourselves to chocolate covered cherries from See's Candy or an Orange Julius that we'd split. But at some point we realized that our wildly spun fictions were made more lucrative when incorporating the truth, "I need cab fare to get my medication which is being held by my twin sister, Jodie Foster." That would score us enough to buy the See's candy, two Orange Juliuses and a medium combination pizza at Round Table with a side salad.
On the Golden Globe Awards, Jodie was given the Cecil B. DeMille Award. Much has been said about her speech, but being her brother I think I have a unique perspective. Firstly, her coming out made me incredibly proud. Jodie may not have succinctly stated, "I'm a big lez pot," but I find it ridiculous that there are those who are criticizing her for being oblique. On prime time national television, in a time slot that was heard around the world, she unmistakably spoke her homosexual truth...and her single status reality.
Some people condemned that the speech rambled, but I have to disagree. Those words were strategically chosen. They were placed under a microscope, carefully examined from every angle, welded and pounded, not a thought, not a beat, not a syllable out of place, until they held up like an exquisite piece of chain mail. She said what she had to say in exactly the manner she intended, throwing down the gauntlet, daring anyone, anyone, to speak out against her, all the while clad an Armani gown that (purposely?) resembled body armor.
I just wish she incorporated a dollop of humility. Where was the "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for the..." or the "I am humbled to have been bestowed such an..."? Because let's face it, she lucked into this profession. Now, I'm not being cruel. Any actor who's "made it" has a four-leafed clover hidden away somewhere. More than looks, or talent, or hard work, there's a right place at the right time aspect to this business, and to acknowledge that, to wink to the actors who are as good looking, as talented, and as hard working but have to accept jobs as caterers, mechanics and pet psychics to get by would have been welcome.
And lastly, I have to admit that I am bent out of shape she didn't mention me. A missing duckling does a lot to damage trust and our relationship never fully recovered after that event, but we are blood after all.
So, Jodie got her DeMille, yippee for her, and my family got the cover of a national magazine. (Mine was in my mailbox last Monday!) I know, I've mentioned this before, but it's finally on a newsstand near you. You can find it at the Natural Child World website, Barnes and Noble, or if you're lucky my son's doctor's office.
As time goes on, I will play characters who get older: I don't want to be some Botoxed weirdo.
-Jodie Foster
Comments