Some
people shine, actually radiate light. I’m not kidding. Yesterday late morning, I
arrived at a rather trendy café restaurant in Los Feliz. Los Feliz is a
fascinating neighbourhood, it’s where Walt Disney made his first sketches of
Mickey, it’s where some of the early film studios were located and it is where
some of the older film folks reside today. I didn’t get to see Frank Lloyd
Wright’s house, another example of Art Deco splendour… next time? Anyway, I
found a table in a shady spot in the café’s courtyard and, as I waited, I
people-watched. A younger, trendier crowd, somewhere a recognisably English
accent tempered by Americanisms, no doubt someone who has been here a while. I
watched as cars arrived to drop off new customers, and ‘wait-people’ (!) darted
here and there with plates of choice. E strolled in, clocked me instantly, smiled
and waved. Bam! Shiny. A lovelier, more beautiful, graceful and gracious woman
you couldn’t imagine. Sadly, she was pushed for time, very apologetic, full of
questions, interesting and interested (the ultimate qualities, if you ask me).
Quite political, very passionate about women’s history, African American
history, the rights movement through the decades, and how intellectualism and
art correlate. I explained that the context of what I am writing sets the scene
by exploring the push for women’s rights in the USA in the 20th
century, and how the film and TV industry either reflected or ignored it. She
smiled her dazzling smile and cursed the fact that she had so little time. She
talked about how the show that brought her to the public’s attention across the
world had created an impact, an effect, which was, in her view, a phenomenon. I
mentioned that in his younger days, Rob had loved that show and although he’d
been cool and supportive in all my attempts to ‘reach out’ (that, seriously, is
what they say here!) to all sorts of actresses, he had gotten really excited
when I mentioned her name to him. She thought this a hoot. She had to go. She
took the printed book proposal I had ready and we agreed to find time to Skype
in the coming months. When meeting all these women, I have to find a place to
put my ‘star-struckness’, as I know these women’s work. With E, I had to work
just that little bit harder to maintain composure!
Sublime. Ridiculous. My last full day in Tinsel Town
swung from one to the other in such an unexpected and extraordinary way. After
E, I had a brief wander and found a Ralphs (ah, will I miss Ralphs? No!) so
bought my dinner and returned to base, enjoying my last views of the Hollywood
sign and the Griffith Park Observatory (next time?). An email arrived – could I
see D earlier? Of course! Quick change of clothes – too hot, damp, rumpled shirt
– and off I went to Sherman Oaks, stop-starting all the way along the crowded
101. Deposited at a house on a residential estate like any other, evidence of
children here and there – bikes on their sides, basketball hoops and such – and
marched up to the front door. More children’s paraphernalia visible through the
window as I rang the bell. A dog started barking from within, voices calling, a
skittering of paws. The door opens and there is D, smiling, ushering me in,
shouting to someone (one of her kids) to get the dog, stop it getting in/out,
leading me through the house as if she welcomes strangers all the time. Which,
it turns out she does! A few weeks previously a German documentary film crew had
descended to make a piece about a mega-star, an actor D knows well. I am
introduced to one of her sons who, in his early teens, looks like he’d rather be
somewhere else, am offered wine (oh please don’t say you don’t drink!) and we
retire to a fantastically every day, perfectly normal back garden – ok, there
was a pool, but that’s the norm here, small, leaves floating on the surface, the
dog (Rottweiler, female, hysterical like only our two can be!) threatening to
jump in at any moment! We sit at a shady garden table and D asks whether I mind
if she smoke. Cue laughter. So, with wine and fags in hand, we get down to
business, no nonsense, no need for preamble. Then her manager arrives (I have
been dealing with him for a while), and the conversation continues. Great stuff!
Wine flows, cigarettes are lit and extinguished and D takes my questions in all
sorts of directions, her manager chipping in here and there. D had explained
that she needed to go collect her younger son at a certain time, and that time
eventually arrives. I get ready to leave but no! You’re not going are you? No
stay, shall we order pizza or pasta? Does that place deliver wine? No way, your
money is no good here, put it away!
I
finally left at about 10.15pm, an elegant sufficiency of California white and
pepperoni pizza consumed, marvelling that I had just spent the evening with this
woman and her manager, this woman who I have watched in sitcoms and movies, this
woman who is really just an ordinary (well nearly ordinary, let’s not forget who
she is!), chaotic, slightly stressed single parent, juggling home, kids,
ex-husbands and a six year study course. Did we drink too much? Of course! Did I
have a good time? Well, what do you think?
And so
my trip comes to an end. Am almost packed and all that’s left is for me to take
A for brunch as a thank you for being such fun to spend time with and for being
so generous, and then I shall bid farewell to the house of cats and head for the
airport and the almost eleven hour flight home to Rob, them puppies and lovely
Minch’.
Has it
been a successful trip? Absolutely, in so many ways. Do I need more
contributors? Undoubtedly. Will I come back to LaLaLand? Yes, do you know, I
definitely will. Do I have a book to write? Yes, I think I do.
But
that, my friends, will be a whole other story!
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