Hollywood: Dreams and Memories of a Once Young Djin

The other day I was driving along Fairfax Avenue, just shy of CBS Television City, where often you will see lots of folks queued up for their turn in the spotlight on "The Price Is Right". I was behind one of the open air touring vans--there are a million companies--filled, given the beautiful weather we have been having, with first time visitors to Hollywood.


I could almost reproduce though 35 years in time past, my early visits to the land of oranges and palm trees, and of course, Pinks (the hot dog stand where on Oscar night the stars are known to have a bite after the show) that feeling of adventure and hopefulness I had in 1977 and then again in 1978 when I first experienced the dry warmth and bright colors of Los Angeles.


I had just begun law school then but I harbored the dream of being in the industry, joining mine to the countless others of the young and yet untried who came before me. I had written some scripts "on spec" with my then partner, Len Speaks and while I might have to have a "real job" for a while, I really wanted to be a sitcom writer.


Los Angeles, then so friendly and clean, was a revelation to me. The Bronx was as foreign from this place to me as any exotic place on the other side of the world. What the Los Angeleans hated--the spread out nature of the communities--I loved. It was bright and vast and full of promise to a kid who never considered she'd ever get outside of the Bronx. But then I had that first glimpse of the nearest thing to paradise.The City of Angels. The first time, when I had not yet learned to drive, I was taken to the beach by Dennis, then a fellow at USC, emerging from the tunnel that divided the 10 from the Coast Highway to a spot on view of the glittering ocean, I was not only dazzled but infused with a magical sense of freedom.


When I came back a second time in 1978, Len Speaks made the trip as well and we two aspiring not long out of college types tooled around (I still did not drive but he did) from downtown to Westwood, the college community adjacent to that sprawling UCLA campus, to the, yes, Hills of Beverly!

Upper left a 1978 shot of an intersection; upper right me in front of what was then Casey's Bar
Lower left, a house we stopped at in the hills, not because it was particularly gorgeous but because of
the sign, I could pretend I was rich and famous; bottom right, Len Speaks in a most mellow condition at Casey's (I think it's now a Mexican Restaurant)

Still in school, surviving the "Paper Chase" and passing the Bar and getting any job, never mind fame and fortune ,was uppermost in my mind. One thing I did know, I had to live in Los Angeles--how it would ever be possible I had no idea, but I told it to myself regularly so that somehow idea would translate one day into action.  In my case, risk aversive as I was, and remain, it seemed unlikely I would make the escape from the land of "Car 54" to the land of "Chips" (which I saw filmed in Beverly Hills on the second visit).  But the dream sure didn't hurt and it kept me motivated.

I made the move in 1981, after completing my education and working a bit in the mad bureaucracy of the New York City government as well as in the frenetic offices of the lawyer friend of a friend of my Aunt Kathleen. I found a job as essentially the secretarial "Girl Friday" (there was no title called "Administrative Assistant" in those ancient days)  in a law office that was as frenetic as the one I had left in New York, while I awaited the passing of the California Bar. The dream of being a Hollywood writer took a back seat to paying bills. Len Speaks found a new partner and in 1995 they moved to Los Angeles.

The dream, really dreams, because aside from writing I always wanted to do something with my voice, radio, voice-overs, also remote in a town of many clamoring and talented voices, did not depart--they only faded a little. I guess I used my speaking skills as a trial lawyer and ethics instructor (I know, I know, the idea of an ethical lawyer is an oxymoron; you know what? shhhhh. . .I agree with you), staying in one place for 25 years until, as an "at will" employee it became somebody's will to dispense with me and a significant number of the management team. "Thems the breaks" as they say.

Yes, there has been an adjustment, but here's the thing, the dreams are coming back into focus, and as I waited at the light behind that tour van, I felt a little of the sense of freedom that had first been triggered by the ocean blue of Santa Monica and the wide-eyed visits to the sites.  Sometimes as I drive around (yes, I did learn in anticipation of my hoped for move after I came back from my early visits) it all feels new to me again! 

It is a little different now, in this:  I am holding out no expectations of fame and fortune. I am learning to enjoy the ride and maybe create a little bit of something instead of controlling, regulating, giving orders, or taking them, except of course from the Divine Lord--and there I also have some work to do!

I used to love that UCLA shirt (me circa 1978, at age 24,  stunned by the wonders of California, in my Uncle Steve and Aunt Mary's apartment--I have been living just across the street for nearly 32 years). I think I need a new one to go along with my rekindled dreams!