Array Seka - Inside Seka

“You really do love me, don’t you? Thank you for everything you have done for my mom and my family.” He was a very selfless child.

Lelo and Frank of the Italian restaurant Topo Gigio helped me get in touch with the Make-A-Wish Foundation. By this point Matthew knew he was dying and I knew there were things he wanted to do. He wanted to go to Disneyworld to go on the Aerosmith ride. He loved the band and amusement parks. So Make-A-Wish brought Sarah, her ex-husband, Meredith, and Matthew there for four days. Whatever Matthew wanted to do they took care of it and it was a beautiful experience.

Matthew also loved the Dallas Cowboys, while his sister Meredith is a Washington Redskins fan. Washington and Dallas play each other twice a year. I called my ex-boyfriend Billy Connors of the Cubs and asked if he knew anyone in the football world. He asked me to give him a couple of days to see what he could pull off and he called me back with four tickets for the game. Not only that, Matthew had a pass to be in the Cowboys locker room. His favorite player was Emmitt Smith. Emmitt gave him his Super Bowl ring to wear during the game. Matthew met all the guys and was just thrilled. He was in a wheelchair at this point and it was very exhausting for him, but it was just a wonderful day. That young man could not thank me enough. But I didn’t need to be thanked. I was just happy I had been in a position to do it.

The last time I saw Matthew was on July 3, 2002. He was bedridden. He said, “Aunt Dot, I love you. I’m really getting tired now.” I knew what he meant. I walked out of the room and broke down. At that point it was a waiting game. I got the call the next day that he was gone.

Sarah, Meredith, and her husband were in the room when it happened. They all needed to say what they had to say to him. Rather than dying alone in some hospital hooked up to machines, that’s the way it should be.

After he died on July 4th, I took a blanket, a small cooler of beer, and walked up the street to grab a nice, grassy spot where they were blowing off fireworks. The sky was so crystal clear. It was like a celebration of his life and a sendoff at the same time.

Matthew had asked Sarah to have me pick out a song for his funeral. When the music started to play and everyone heard rock and roller Joe Cocker’s voice they looked at me like I was nuts. The song was from a CD called No Ordinary World. It’s a ballad called “On My Way Home.”

By the end of the song there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

I retired and un-retired as often as an aging prizefighter. I was like Al Pacino in Godfather III — just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.

When I started in adult films, I got paid peanuts, like everyone else. Then I raised the stakes and the industry went with me. I raised my wages to the point where I ran myself out of the business, and I was glad. But even once I’d done that, even once I left and then came back to do Careful, which I felt was my swan song, they kept calling. It was like a bad romance. I’d name a ridiculous figure, they’d turn me down, and I thought that would be the end of it. Some time would pass and they’d call again and we’d dance the same dance once more. In my heart, I knew the day might come when they’d say yes and I’d need the money enough to call their bluff.

The numbers I’d quote were far more than any other single venture I’d moved into after acting. And there were certainly times I wondered where my next paycheck was coming from or how I would pay my mortgage. It was like a game of chicken.

In the middle of all that was AIDS. By the 1990s, the world finally started to have some semblance of agreement on what it was, what caused it, how you got it, and how best to prevent it. Tests were finally developed.

One day, everything came together just as I’d feared and hoped. A company was willing to meet my price. They agreed to my demands for creative control. They allowed me to cast who I wanted. I would only do sex scenes with people of my own choosing. Everyone I did those scenes with would be tested for HIV, and even then, they would still be wearing condoms. I never thought anyone would accept my terms, but they did, and I needed the money so much I had no sane choice but to go along.

The film was called American Garter. Like Careful, it was very story-driven and practically soft-core — a couples’ movie, as they were called. It was done on film instead of video, so it looked classy. They got Henri Pachard to direct, and Gloria Leonard was involved in the production as well. I’d never worked with Henri before, but I liked everything I’d heard about him from others I knew and trusted, and I’d always liked and respected Gloria. It looked like there was nothing for me to complain about, no excuses for me to use to get out of doing it.

Check that — there was one thing. I’d gained weight. I was pushing forty and I looked it, at least in my own eyes, despite having had some work done. I started working out and dieting and lost the worst of the weight, but when I looked in the mirror, I still wasn’t satisfied with what was looking back. I was in MILF territory, which I had trouble coming to grips with. That term hadn’t quite been invented yet, but there were girls like Kay Parker, Juliet Anderson, and Georgina Spelvin who’d always done those sorts of roles. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet. I think lots of mainstream actresses feel the same way, kicking and biting their way into middle age, still wanting to play ingénues and romantic leads with hot young guys and not being regarded as a cougar. Now that was me, and I didn’t like it one bit.

There was something else I should have known from all the years I’d been in the industry — everyone lies. Yes, they paid me what they promised, and yes, I got the casting I’d asked for — good guys I could count on like Randy West. But when it came to condom time, the hair flew.

First, they conveniently forgot I’d insisted upon it. Yeah, like I’d forget a thing like that, right at the height of AIDS awareness. We fought. And fought. And fought. I wasn’t going to do a scene with a penis unless it was covered in latex, and if they didn’t meet their obligations, I was walking off the set and I knew if we went to court they’d be the ones in breach of contract, not me.

Would you believe they thought they came up with a way of “meeting me halfway?” I never would have dreamed there was a way of “sorta” wearing a condom, but they found it. Of course, this didn’t come from any discussion with me — I’d already drawn my line in the sand. But when they “agreed” with me, we got started on my first sex scene and when it was time for insertion, I looked down and there was this little rubber thing on the very tip of the guy’s cock. I’d never seen such a thing in my life. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what a condom looked like — the men I was sleeping with at the time were all wearing them. But nobody ever wore anything that looked like this. It was so funny looking I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“What the fuck is this?!”

“It’s a condom.”

“No it’s not! It’s, it’s… It looks like a fucking yarmulke!” And it did. It looked like it was made for a penis having a Bar Mitzvah.

“It’ll work; trust us. It’s rubber; everything will be okay. And best of all, the audience will never know.”

I stomped off the set. This wasn’t Gloria or Henri I was fighting with. They were actually on my side. It was the suits — or what passes for suits in the porn industry. The money guys who ran the show.

“Don’t piss on my shoes and tell me it’s raining. You can call that a condom all you want; I say it’s not a condom. A condom covers the entire penis. That thing will fall off the moment he enters me.”