I have always thought Sally Field was amazing. She is an actress of legendary caliber. In addition, the 76-year-old has a long history of on-screen romances.
As a result, she has received her fair share of kisses on TV. Though at first she was reluctant to reveal whose costar it was with, she finally revealed which has been the worst.
Sally Field, regarded as one of the most gifted and adaptable actors of her generation, has had an incredible Hollywood career. Her legendary roles in a number of movies and television shows have won us over.
She gave an amazing performance in Steel Magnolias, for instance, and the funeral scene is something I will always remember.Sally portrayed a woman torn by love, disappointment, hatred, and loss, and she did a fantastic job at it.
She is, of course, also well-known for her parts in popular television shows and films, including Erin Brockovich, The Flying Nun, Gidget, Forrest Gump, and Sweet and the Bandit.
In Pasadena, California, Sally was born into a working-class family in show business.
However, her early years were everything but idyllic. Sally claimed in her memoirs that she was abused by her stepfather and that, when she was seventeen, she had a covert abortion.
Still, she proved to be such a kind, modest person.
As of right now, Sally is still going to work every day. In the 2020 television series Dispatches From Elsewhere, she portrayed Janice. She will play Jessie Buss in the widely watched television series Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty in 2022, which depicts the personal and professional life of the Los Angeles Lakers in the 1980s.
It is therefore not surprising that Sally occasionally appears in interviews given how active she is.
After a fan asked a pointed question, beloved icon Sally Field opted to share her worst on-screen kiss with the world on Thursday, Dec. 1 episode of “Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen.”
Upon hearing the question, Field, 76, looked around and laughed, saying, “Oh boy.” Do I really need to name names here?
“I believe you should,” 54-year-old Cohen answered.
Field gave in and said, “All right. This is going to surprise you. Hold on, people.
The Oscar-winning actress accused actor Burt Reynolds, her ex-boyfriend, of being the guilty party.
Cohen asked, “But weren’t you dating at the time?” with prompt follow-up.
Field clarified that she was required to “look the other way” when filming “Smokey and the Bandit.” This, according to her, “just wasn’t something he really did for you.”
“Isn’t that something?” Cohen asked, seeming shocked.
The actress continued by saying that Reynolds did a lot of “drooling” while they were on screen together.
While filming “Smokey and the Bandit,” the two co-stars got to know one another in 1977. They dated for almost five years after that.
According to the New York Post, Reynolds discussed his friendship with Field in his memoir But Enough About Me. Reynolds tragically passed away at the age of 82 from cardiac arrest.
The celebrity said he regretted their time together and wished he had done more to try to mend their relationship.
Field gave Variety an explanation in March for why she had stopped communicating with Reynolds throughout the last 30 years of his life.
She went on, “He was not someone I could be around.” “He was simply not a good fit for me at all. Additionally, he had somehow created the illusion that I was more significant to him than he had previously believed, even though I wasn’t. All he wanted was the thing that he was without. Simply put, I didn’t want to handle that.
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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