Everybody is a Star

So, the day before Bubba and I headed east recently, while packing, I noticed the fire department urgently walking up my driveway. Sadly, they were heading for the back, upstairs apartment of our elderly neighbor, Hannah. Hannah, an 88 year-old former actress, had suffered what turned out to be a massive, fatal heart attack. We actually didn't know it was fatal when we left. A neighbor told me she'd died right then and there, but her caretaker told me she was still alive. It's a surreal circumstance to know your neighbor might be dead when you come home.
I'd only directly met Hannah a handful of times. She was old and in poor health, predominantnly unable to traverse the stairs. She'd had several episodes when she lived alone, where she'd fallen and was stuck for hours, unable to be tended to. After one such incident, she was forcibly removed for several months. But she kept fighting, and had returned in better health several months ago, and now with live in care. Finally, her heart and will gave out and she succumbed.
Why do I mention all of this? Because for every Clooney, Roberts, and Eastwood, there are thousands more "Hannah's" strewn about Hollywood. From what I'd gleaned, she was a marginal actress back in the day. Look her up on IMDB and you'll find a sole role, where she played a nurse on a Morgan Fairchild series for one episode. Apparently she'd done enough other things in her career, such that she was able to make a living, before retiring some time ago. Almost daily, I'd see her Variety magazine, and the periodic free dvd's from the Screen Actor's Guild, for her to vote on for the awards shows. She was also eligible for, and awaiting entrance into some type of SAG sponsored retirement home.
Hannah never got a star on the walk of fame. Never won an Academy Award. Best as I can tell, her claim to fame is being my landlord's oldest tenant (40 years). But she was a sweet old gal. When I DID see her, she'd usually offer me a stale box of chocolates, or some other sundry from the years worth of stuff she'd amassed in her apartment, as some type of offering. She also used to leave food out for the strays, leading to the two cats we ended up rescuing.
I don't know what happens to anonymous members of the chorus when they pass. You don't hear about it on "Entertainment Tonight." Star or not, she was a brick in the castle that is Hollywood.

Iconography

Ok, quick aside post. I've got a humdinger, motherload entry forthcoming about my trip back east last week, but I had another very Hollywood moment yesterday that I thought I'd share first.

So, I'm coming out of Ralph's supermarket yesterday (I love the Whole Foods and all, but it's a tad pricey to be hitting it up on the regular). I'm turning onto Sunset Blvd., and like they taught me in driver's ed, I take a good long look to my left. I see a hot pink car coming my way. "Hmm, you don't see hot pink cars very often" I thought. As it got nearer, I could tell it was a classic shaped Corvette. "Hmm, you REALLY don't see hot pink Corvette's every day." Hot pink Vette on Sunset, it was a foregone conclusion that there'd be a vanity plate on it. So as it got closer, I made out the name, "ANGELYNE" on the California tags.

For the uninitiated, Angelyne is a Hollywood "icon." She's an icon who's famous for absolutely nothing. Check that, she IS famous for something. She's got platinum blond hair, HUGE plastic boobs, and enough make-up to make Tammy Faye say, "Hey, you might want to ease up on the face paint, hon." Since some time in the 80's, she's been advertising her "talent" on billboards around Hollywood. And THAT'S why she's famous. That's it. The billboards. The ONLY reason I know who she is, is because I used to watch "Moonlighting" when I was a kid, and they'd show a second or two of the billboard in the opening credits.

But that's Hollywood. That's the TMZ culture that's been cultivated out here (my mom was really "impressed" when I explained to her that I live smack in the middle of the "Thirty Mile Zone,"). Less is more. Less talent that is. But really, when you get down to it, Angelyne is the caricatured, epitome of Hollywood. The simple elements of fantasy (in this case, a pretty, fit Marilyn Monroe type blonde), exaggerated to absurd proportions, with little to no basis in reality.

i·co·nog·ra·phy - symbolic representation

Angelyne is just that. A symbolic representation of all that is Hollywood.

Typical Day in the Neigborhood

So, recently I'm up at the old Rite Aid. Middle of the day, completely unextraordinary circumstance. But this is how we roll in Hollywood. There was a long line at checkout. Much to my personal, societal dismay, the folks decided to form one huge line, and disperse as each new checkout space opened. (While it IS fair, it completely gums up the works of the checkout area). Anyway, so this one beast of a line extended far down aisle 2, BUT, there was a big space between the front of the line and the cash registers.

All of a sudden, a sweating, middle-aged man was cutting the line (unknowingly), to buy himself a Gatorade or something to cool off from his jog. I look up and I'm like, "I know that dude. That's Schillinger from Oz!" Enraged, I got my dander up and said, "Yo Schillinger, man, that was f'd up what you did to Beecher! You don't tattoo a swastika on a man's ass! AND, you don't cut me in line when I've got arms full of cat litter! Now, back of the line before I go all Adibisi on you."

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating slightly, but I DID ask him to kindly respect the order of the line. My point being, sometimes it's hard to disassociate the actors from their characters, which I reckon is a testament to a job well done.