It seems it's confession week, folks and today's is that I've always wanted to be a has-been. Someone whose Hollywood career has long past its prime and jobs are now limited to commercials for ambulance chasing lawyers on the low end, to any incontinence related product on the higher end-- and that's the best case scenario. You know the type of celebrity-- not necessarily an A list star to begin with-- an actor or actress who may be immediately recognizable but the name completely escapes you. Like the time I saw the Figurines Lady at the Elizabeth Montgomery estate sale in Patterson, New York. You remember that 70's ad campaign for the Figurines diet bar. This gorgeous brunette-- now I know her name, Carla Borelli-- danced to the tune of Tangerine in a halter-top red dress. Oh to be one of the lucky people who rode the 1970's Special Guest Star wave as long as the surf would hold them up!
If I could turn back the clock to be one of those prolific guest stars on any one of the legendary, pop-culture-iconic TV shows-- Love American Style, The Love Boat, Hawaii 5-0, Mannix, or, dare I dream, the imitable Barnaby Jones-- I'd do it in a blink. To be chased by the TV psycho killer du jour through a dusty canyon in my very own-- at least for that episode-- top-of-the-line, (special credit: Provided by The Ford Motor Company) brand new Country Squire station wagon. That burnished copper color with of course the imitation wood grain panelling. The episode plot would be something like: an obsessed fan (played by a perannial, excellent at playing wild-eyed crazy-- like actress Christine Belford) saw me at the Laurel Canyon market one morning in my tight bell bottoms as I grabbed a coffee & pack of smokes on my way to the studio in the valley. Where I was the star of my very own detective show-- the play-within-the-play concept. Barnaby Jones was immediately summoned after the very first weird written note (the cut-out-letters-from-the-newspaper kind) was received, because, of course, Barnaby was hired as a creative consultant on my fictitious prime time detective show, The Topanga Canyon Murders. The notes from that crazy Christine Belford just got weirder & weirder-- much scarier than anything on Play Misty For Me. Things like (in that scary, Helter-Skelter, newspaper-letter-pasted format, don't forget) "Love Me, Kill You!" and "Marry Me, My Cat's Talking About Us" and perhaps the scariest of all which compelled me to run to my next door neighbor (played by Very Special Guest Star, Miss Beverly Garland) "You're So Handsome I Want To Wear your Face Like A Mask"! This episode was wrought with car chases, an elegant party that was a surprise presentation of some very important humanitarian award to me-- crashed by that crazy Christine Belford, Christine Belford ransacking my pristine & impeccably decorated Mediterranean style home-- which was really the Brady bunch set being used while the Brady's were on hiatus and finally, an obvious rip-off of a 1972 Columbo starring none other than Miss Anne Baxter. That crazy Christine Belford pours gasoline around my carport to kill me in a blaze because I've thwarted her advances just too long & she's going to kill me so no one else can ever have me. But my long-time, beloved housekeeper (played by my dear personal friend, the fabulous Miss Esther Role) is returning in my station wagon from the grocery store and that crazy Christine Belford thinks it's me, but kills Esther's character instead. This throws me over the prime-time-1970's-show psychological edge in a very emotional scene. Requiring Barnaby's assistant-- played of course by former Miss America, the ever lovely Miss Lee Merriwether-- to help me to my luxurious white velvet sectional sofa and pour me a drink from the chrome and glass tea cart that I cleverly use as a portable bar. My realistic performance was the talk of the town and I was nominated for a Special Guest Star Emmy Award.
The phone wouldn't stop ringing. I finally had to borrow my gal-pal Ruta Lee's personal assistant to help answer my multi-line office phone with light-up buttons and red hold button. Ruta never completely forgave me after I not only stole the very handsome, swarthy & well endowed Carlos (rumored to have been Alejandro Rey's illegitimate son) and hired him as my much needed assistant, we were secretly married in a Mexican ceremony. Television's beloved Rose Marie was our flower girl and Hope Lange our maid of honor at Jack Cassidy's sprawling seaside Baja California compound. Hedda Hopper called it the most fabulous union she'd ever witnessed, although she had to change Carlos' name to Carlotta in her gossip column-- it was only the early 70's, you know. Jack sang most of the songs with the Mariachi band, the first being an odd rendition of Girl Talk. However I lost the Special Guest Star Emmy to-- you guessed it-- that crazy Christine Belford and all the hoopla quickly cooled. As did my brief (9 day) marriage to Carlos Alejandro Rey, when he left me for (I'm still not completely over the shock) Jack Cassidy and our brief, illegal union ended with a quickie divorce in Juarez. The fortunate outcome that occurred post-divorce was that Ruta and I buried the hatchet. She confessed that she knew of Carlos' bi-sexuality and she always feared losing him to any one of television's secretly gay, dashing leading men like myself the moment her back was turned. More than stealing Carlos away and marrying him, apparently Ruta was extremely hurt that I picked Rose Marie as the flower girl over herself. I made up for this years later when I had a momentary laps of homosexuality and married the lovely Vicki Carr in a Reno chapel ceremony where Ruta was finally not only flower girl but maid of honor as well. Vicki sang It Must be Him to me, however the justice of the peace was extremely handsome and blatantly flirting with me which contributed to my even shorter marriage (4 days) to Miss Carr. Unfortunately, that non-existent Barnaby Jones episode doesn't appear on my IMDB profile because, of course, it never happened.
There are, however, a couple of obscure entries that may or may not qualify me to appear at one of those Hollywood collector & autograph conventions, but more than likely, not. If I was an extra on Star Trek, that would DEFINITELY qualify me to appear at one of those shows because those Trekkie weirdos not only know exactly who was on what episode, they could tell you when Shattner sneaked out a fart while the cameras were rolling. There is a place where I must explore the level of my possible has-been-dom someday-- Japan. Several years ago I played 2 roles in different episodes of ASTONISHING NEWS! One as a physician and the other as a car-jack victim. The premise of the show is that items from US newspapers are poorly re-enacted and Japanese celebrities watch in a split screen format. The celebrities overly exaggerate their reactions to what they're watching in that Godzilla-esque, bad Japanese acting style and their fans at home are thrilled that their favorite celebrities are watching the same thing they're watching too. That could be why I may be a larger-than-life TV star in Japan and not know it. I'm pretty sure that my acting-- although my dialouge was dubbed over in Japanese-- is fairly bad, but complimantary to the Godzilla-inspired style the Japanese so warmly embrace. As you watch the celebrities watch the re-enactment, you can easily identify their US counterparts that they're obviously emulating. The Japanese Donna Mills is particularly disturbing. She must have purchased Donna's very successful do-it-yourself 1992 eye make-up video, The Eyes Have It. However the technique does not translate very well to Asian eyes and she looked like an Asian Donna Mills with Downs Syndrome. Her bleached blond hair didn't help matters either. I know it's a current trend for Asians to want to look Western, but I'm afraid I may have to utilize my (possible) Japanese celebrity to help them achieve their beauty goals without looking like the scary animatronic Disney figures in It's A Small World After All. For all I know I could be huge in Japan and THAT'S the place I must go to experience the thrill of the life of the has-been. To enter restaurants and do what I've coined as "The See-Me-Scan". That's when a celebrity-- no matter how famous or how obscure-- enters a public place and because of their years in the public eye they immediately scan the room with a vacuous smile, all the while making small chatter with their entourage, to see if anyone has noticed their arrival. That's it, next stop Tokyo because if that's where I have to be to experience the thrill that Sally Field's character enjoyed in Soap Dish, that's where I'm going. I just need to learn to say "where's the mall" in Japanese & I'm there.
If I could turn back the clock to be one of those prolific guest stars on any one of the legendary, pop-culture-iconic TV shows-- Love American Style, The Love Boat, Hawaii 5-0, Mannix, or, dare I dream, the imitable Barnaby Jones-- I'd do it in a blink. To be chased by the TV psycho killer du jour through a dusty canyon in my very own-- at least for that episode-- top-of-the-line, (special credit: Provided by The Ford Motor Company) brand new Country Squire station wagon. That burnished copper color with of course the imitation wood grain panelling. The episode plot would be something like: an obsessed fan (played by a perannial, excellent at playing wild-eyed crazy-- like actress Christine Belford) saw me at the Laurel Canyon market one morning in my tight bell bottoms as I grabbed a coffee & pack of smokes on my way to the studio in the valley. Where I was the star of my very own detective show-- the play-within-the-play concept. Barnaby Jones was immediately summoned after the very first weird written note (the cut-out-letters-from-the-newspaper kind) was received, because, of course, Barnaby was hired as a creative consultant on my fictitious prime time detective show, The Topanga Canyon Murders. The notes from that crazy Christine Belford just got weirder & weirder-- much scarier than anything on Play Misty For Me. Things like (in that scary, Helter-Skelter, newspaper-letter-pasted format, don't forget) "Love Me, Kill You!" and "Marry Me, My Cat's Talking About Us" and perhaps the scariest of all which compelled me to run to my next door neighbor (played by Very Special Guest Star, Miss Beverly Garland) "You're So Handsome I Want To Wear your Face Like A Mask"! This episode was wrought with car chases, an elegant party that was a surprise presentation of some very important humanitarian award to me-- crashed by that crazy Christine Belford, Christine Belford ransacking my pristine & impeccably decorated Mediterranean style home-- which was really the Brady bunch set being used while the Brady's were on hiatus and finally, an obvious rip-off of a 1972 Columbo starring none other than Miss Anne Baxter. That crazy Christine Belford pours gasoline around my carport to kill me in a blaze because I've thwarted her advances just too long & she's going to kill me so no one else can ever have me. But my long-time, beloved housekeeper (played by my dear personal friend, the fabulous Miss Esther Role) is returning in my station wagon from the grocery store and that crazy Christine Belford thinks it's me, but kills Esther's character instead. This throws me over the prime-time-1970's-show psychological edge in a very emotional scene. Requiring Barnaby's assistant-- played of course by former Miss America, the ever lovely Miss Lee Merriwether-- to help me to my luxurious white velvet sectional sofa and pour me a drink from the chrome and glass tea cart that I cleverly use as a portable bar. My realistic performance was the talk of the town and I was nominated for a Special Guest Star Emmy Award.
The phone wouldn't stop ringing. I finally had to borrow my gal-pal Ruta Lee's personal assistant to help answer my multi-line office phone with light-up buttons and red hold button. Ruta never completely forgave me after I not only stole the very handsome, swarthy & well endowed Carlos (rumored to have been Alejandro Rey's illegitimate son) and hired him as my much needed assistant, we were secretly married in a Mexican ceremony. Television's beloved Rose Marie was our flower girl and Hope Lange our maid of honor at Jack Cassidy's sprawling seaside Baja California compound. Hedda Hopper called it the most fabulous union she'd ever witnessed, although she had to change Carlos' name to Carlotta in her gossip column-- it was only the early 70's, you know. Jack sang most of the songs with the Mariachi band, the first being an odd rendition of Girl Talk. However I lost the Special Guest Star Emmy to-- you guessed it-- that crazy Christine Belford and all the hoopla quickly cooled. As did my brief (9 day) marriage to Carlos Alejandro Rey, when he left me for (I'm still not completely over the shock) Jack Cassidy and our brief, illegal union ended with a quickie divorce in Juarez. The fortunate outcome that occurred post-divorce was that Ruta and I buried the hatchet. She confessed that she knew of Carlos' bi-sexuality and she always feared losing him to any one of television's secretly gay, dashing leading men like myself the moment her back was turned. More than stealing Carlos away and marrying him, apparently Ruta was extremely hurt that I picked Rose Marie as the flower girl over herself. I made up for this years later when I had a momentary laps of homosexuality and married the lovely Vicki Carr in a Reno chapel ceremony where Ruta was finally not only flower girl but maid of honor as well. Vicki sang It Must be Him to me, however the justice of the peace was extremely handsome and blatantly flirting with me which contributed to my even shorter marriage (4 days) to Miss Carr. Unfortunately, that non-existent Barnaby Jones episode doesn't appear on my IMDB profile because, of course, it never happened.
There are, however, a couple of obscure entries that may or may not qualify me to appear at one of those Hollywood collector & autograph conventions, but more than likely, not. If I was an extra on Star Trek, that would DEFINITELY qualify me to appear at one of those shows because those Trekkie weirdos not only know exactly who was on what episode, they could tell you when Shattner sneaked out a fart while the cameras were rolling. There is a place where I must explore the level of my possible has-been-dom someday-- Japan. Several years ago I played 2 roles in different episodes of ASTONISHING NEWS! One as a physician and the other as a car-jack victim. The premise of the show is that items from US newspapers are poorly re-enacted and Japanese celebrities watch in a split screen format. The celebrities overly exaggerate their reactions to what they're watching in that Godzilla-esque, bad Japanese acting style and their fans at home are thrilled that their favorite celebrities are watching the same thing they're watching too. That could be why I may be a larger-than-life TV star in Japan and not know it. I'm pretty sure that my acting-- although my dialouge was dubbed over in Japanese-- is fairly bad, but complimantary to the Godzilla-inspired style the Japanese so warmly embrace. As you watch the celebrities watch the re-enactment, you can easily identify their US counterparts that they're obviously emulating. The Japanese Donna Mills is particularly disturbing. She must have purchased Donna's very successful do-it-yourself 1992 eye make-up video, The Eyes Have It. However the technique does not translate very well to Asian eyes and she looked like an Asian Donna Mills with Downs Syndrome. Her bleached blond hair didn't help matters either. I know it's a current trend for Asians to want to look Western, but I'm afraid I may have to utilize my (possible) Japanese celebrity to help them achieve their beauty goals without looking like the scary animatronic Disney figures in It's A Small World After All. For all I know I could be huge in Japan and THAT'S the place I must go to experience the thrill of the life of the has-been. To enter restaurants and do what I've coined as "The See-Me-Scan". That's when a celebrity-- no matter how famous or how obscure-- enters a public place and because of their years in the public eye they immediately scan the room with a vacuous smile, all the while making small chatter with their entourage, to see if anyone has noticed their arrival. That's it, next stop Tokyo because if that's where I have to be to experience the thrill that Sally Field's character enjoyed in Soap Dish, that's where I'm going. I just need to learn to say "where's the mall" in Japanese & I'm there.
1 comment:
I'm afraid u have way too much time on your hands- Your friend.
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