My wife and I met ten years ago. We set our first date, and I would drive to the area where she lived and meet at a coffee shop. We didn’t meet at her house because, according to her, I had to pass the boogie man test. One Saturday in February, I drove a pretty good distance to where she lived and was waiting outside the coffee shop. While standing out front of the shop waiting for her, I looked to my right and saw a distinguished older man standing next to me, holding a couple of bags of groceries. I recognized him immediately. It was the actor James Darren. I started scrolling through my phone, trying not to be obvious, looking for pictures of the celebrity to confirm what I suspected. While doing that, I noticed a beautiful young lady walking towards me and realized it was my date. Being the suave, sophisticated guy I am, my first line to her was, “Does that guy look like James Darren?”
Pretty slick, huh? I don’t understand why she didn’t run in terror after that smooth introduction. From that moment on, my wife labeled me the “eternal tourist.”
You are probably wondering what that means. As we drive around Southern California, I tend to rubber neck at locations, people, and high-profile sights embedded into our society due to being on television, in movies, and in songs. For example, I don’t need GPS; I use the Beach Boy song, Surfin’ U.S.A. I admit that I was excited when I saw a sign on Pacific Coast Highway that said “Ventura County Line,” Wait, you don’t think that’s cool? How about Santa Cruz, Trestle, Manhattan Beach, or Doheney? If the Beach Boys liked these places, they must be the place to go.
I’m a mid-western boy, and all my knowledge about SoCal comes from the entertainment industry. I saw Disneyland every Sunday on “The Wonderful World of Disney,” and I had to go there. When James Dean and Natalie Wood were hanging out at the Griffith Observatory in “Rebel Without A Cause,” I had to see the place in person. When I saw pictures of people exploring Hollywood Blvd. and stepping into the footprints in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, I had to try it. These old Hollywood stars from the 1930s and 1940s had tiny feet but amazing style.
My wife is a native Californian and could take it or leave it. There is no mystery for her, but she knows I find it cool, so she feeds my habit. One day, she took me for a drive to Paramount Ranch, near where we live. It didn’t look special, kind of like a forest preserve. After hiking a bit, we walked into an Old West town used for all types of movie and television shoots. I was floored. I immediately recognized it as a set for the now-canceled West World series, which I was watching at the time that ran on HBO. It was also home to the television show Dr. Quinn’s Medicine Woman and other series and movies. I was bouncing around like a kid who didn’t take his Ritalin. That’s when my wife slipped a sedative into my hot cocoa to calm me down. It seemed odd that I was having hot cocoa when it was 101 degrees outside. She asked me if I wanted to take a short hike to the outdoor set for the television series “M.A.S.H.” I declined so I could get home and have some more of that hot cocoa.
My wife informed me that we would have dinner with her friends one evening. When we arrived and were introduced, we did the usual “And what do you do for a living,” question. After I answered that I work in publishing and on magazines, thinking that I was cool, he hit me with, “I’m the head grip for a major Hollywood studio.” Ok, I was out cooled and turned into a sniveling ball of nerves. Was it a bit much to ask for an autograph? I needed more of that hot cocoa.
It turns out he came from a long line of Hollywood grips, and his lineage goes back to his grandfather, who worked on silent films in the early 1920s. He started telling me about the films his granddad, dad, and he worked on, and I was gobsmacked. That is a real word, and I’m pretty sure it is used many times in movies. He was still working at the time, and it was fun to listen to him tell tails of upcoming movies and TV shows he was working on.
We became friends, and my wife and I dine with them regularly. One time, while we were visiting, he said that he heard my birthday was coming up and that, as a gift, he would give me and my wife a private tour of the studio he worked for. I believe I was speechless and just nodded my head yes while saying, “blah, blah, blah, blah.” It’s amazing how I can keep my cool in challenging situations.
We set a date, and my wife and I arrived on time. We were directed into the studio and parked where all the grips parked. He met us with a golf cart and started our tour. We saw many places the regular tour sees but other places where the tours never go. We walked through the prop room, on an existing set for a show that was running on Netflix, and went through a huge sound stage that can be flooded to take the place of an ocean, lake, or underground cave holding a pirate ship. Did I just give where we were away?
He finally took us to the back lot. This is where they film many outdoor scenes. We began to recognize the location as he pointed out which set was used for which movies. After an extensive tour, he pulled up to one of the back lot fronts and said he was buying us lunch. I pictured the famous Hollywood cafeterias as seen in so many movies. It’s like an Army cafeteria, but the people are wearing different kinds of uniforms. When I was in the Army, we all wore olive drab. Their uniforms were very colorful, and many had feathers sticking out. I was surprised we were not eating in a cafeteria but a fine-dining restaurant. This place is where executives meet and make deals. I knew it was high-class when the waiters wore floor-length aprons, tuxedo vests, shirts, and bow ties. Every waiter also had a silver crumb scraper. Now, that’s high class. (A crumb scraper is used to remove the mess between courses I make while eating. I gotta get me one of those.)
While we were eating, several “stars” walked in and one sat right next to me. Damn, he is as good-looking in real life as he is on television.
My wife and I recently enjoyed dinner with our friends again, and he had another treat for us. He pulled out a pile of photo albums and showed pictures his dad and granddad had from the movie shoots they worked on. I hope drooling on these pictures (some over 100 years old) didn’t do any damage.
To end the evening, he handed me a script from a seventies cop show his dad worked on. I was floored. He said it was mine. It’s an actual TV script. I thanked him, then told him I have written a script and asked if he could get the big wigs at the studio to look at it. I see a great vehicle for Brad Pit and Tom Cruise…whoa, I just woke up at home. That hot cocoa my wife gives me has a kick.
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