Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, November 14, 1993 TAG: 9311140024
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: E-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: LON WAGNER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Meaning, she's sassy, witty and frumpy.
The Virginia Lottery personified looks like the tooth fairy at a Grateful Dead concert. She's got on tacky gold shoes, one white sock, one pink sock, a feathered pink stole - more like a blanket - and more jewelry than M.C. Hammer.
She says the look began five years ago as "sort of an upscale bag-lady" or a "shopping cart look." But the image has developed, over time, into something more glitzy.
"I've forgotten my roots, that's it," Lady Luck says, then tears into a staccato laugh like Woody Woodpecker.
Lady Luck steps out of her chariot, a big motor coach, and leads a procession of public relations people into the store. A line forms out the door as people line up to get her to autograph 13-month Lady Luck calendars and to have a Polaroid picture taken with her.
She rules the scene. If she hears a wisecrack, she bounces a better one straight back.
Somebody at the back of the line rhymes a bad word with "Lady Luck."
"Hey," she shouts, "somebody's taking my name in vain back there!"
A boy has skipped the line and is standing next to her trying to get a calendar signed. "Hey," she says to the boy, "who's coughing on me over here?"
People line up because they like to think Lady Luck, the star of 10 lottery commercials in the past five years, will help their chances at a big payoff. A man asks her to give him some pointers, write some lucky numbers on his calendar.
She jots 1,2,3.
A man wants her to kiss the lottery ticket he just bought. She obliges, but rejects a second such request a few minutes later - and announces the new policy:
"I'm not doing any more ticket kisses; that was a one-time thing."
J.R. Reynolds, the lucky recipient of the only ticket kiss, says it might pay off. "That's why I had her kiss it," says Reynolds, who walked just a few blocks to meet Lady Luck. "I tell you what, I'll have a fit if I win that lottery."
Lady Luck is on a 17-city, 13-day tour of Virginia. If anyone should question her popularity, consider this: by Day 4, in Danville, 1,200 people had been photographed with Lady Luck and the public relations entourage already had run out of Polaroid film. They had to stock up at a Wal-Mart.
Lady Luck is really Melanie MacQueen, a Los Angeles actress. MacQueen got the part five years ago when she auditioned with frizzy hair, wearing tennis shoes and two unmatched socks.
She seems to have little difficulty playing the smart-mouthed, frazzled Luck Queen of the commercials. "That's pretty much her," says Jeanette Walker, one of Richmond public relations people handling the tour. "Believe me."
So here's Lady Luck, or Melanie MacQueen, answering some questions before going into the Ninth Street Grocery:
What was the crowd like at Burger King?
"Burger King?" Lady Luck asks. That was Hardee's, someone says. "I was going to say, I thought I must've blacked out for a minute."
Where's the wand? Let's see it.
"Feel it - it's pretty heavy for a small dog to lift," she says, referring to the commercial in which her dog steals the wand and wishes himself huge bones and dozens of fire hydrants.
Have you ever used the wand for protection? To fend off an attacker maybe?
"Once in a while, when we're in dangerous areas, I sharpen the points."
Has this popularity in Virginia, and the success of the lottery commercials helped your acting career?
"That does nothing in terms of my overall show business career," MacQueen said. "They say, `Call me back when you're famous in 47 more states.' "
by CNB