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Mickey and Me
Hollywood Milieu ©2002
By Denny Dormody
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| Movie icon Mickey Rooney is cleaning his plate. I'm
clearing my throat. The is the hallowed hall where the original Academy
Awards were held. The Blossom Room inside The Roosevelt Theatre on
Hollywood Blvd. Any day when song legend Pat Boone walks up and says
"Good job" has got to be surreal. Any day when comedy legend Buddy
Hackett shakes your hand has got to be surreal. |
| It was so surreal; I was waiting for Rod Serling to
walk into the frame and say: Picture one perspiring screenwriter from
the Midwest. HeÕs been asked to read a few words to honor a Hollywood
icon. The audience is full of celebrities. In a place called Los Angeles.
The signpost up ahead, The Twilight Zone. |
| Let's say a friend asked me to read the apologies for
the no-shows at a luncheon honoring MGM's legendary Golden Boy, Mr.
Mickey Rooney. Let's say, I volunteered. LetÕs say, "What was I thinking?"
Let's say, I only do what the voices tell me to do. |
| My brief appearance will be as nondescript audio wallpaper,
announcing apologies for some celeb no-shows. I figure I read an apology
or three and then, I'm history. Sixty seconds; Not Sixty Minutes.
No big deal. |
| It's noon. The Roosevelt Hotel is abuzz with paparazzi
photogs, pseudo-celebrities and star-struck tourists. In the middle
of the swelling crowd is an Odd Man Out. Me. Inside the Blossom Room,
the ghosts of movie stars past and present are looking over the shoulders
of the banquet crew as fancy napkins are folded and butter patties,
patted. |
| We do a basic sound check. I count down from 10 to
0. Everything is okay as microphones go. A lighting guy is lighting
lights. A pianist guy is rehearsing his part of the gig. Water glasses
are watered. Waiting in the wings is Murphy's Law. |
| The doors open, the crowd swells. Suddenly I start to
notice something. There are celebrities in the audience! Remember
swimming star Esther Williams. SheÕs here. Remember Lisabeth Scott.
She smooched with Bogart in Dead Reckoning. She's here. Remember Mad
World's Buddy Hackett? HeÕs here. Remember Kevin McCarthy in the back
of the truck with the pod people in Invasion of the Body Snatchers?
HeÕs here. The Golden Agers of Hollywood are all here. Suddenly, IÕm
wishing I wasn't. I, a mere typo in the History of Hollywood and IÕm
scheduled to speak. Go figure. |
| I start to go into an out-of-body experience. You know,
like where you're living in denial. I guess it's sort of like living
in Cleveland. You know like Hey, we're on The Titanic and sinking,
but let's rearrange the deck chairs. |
| The opening comments begin. Luncheon is served. The
classic Rubber Chicken A la California is served. My stomach has been
churning since Film Noir cable-goddess Lisabeth Scott sauntered onto
the scene. So what if she's got a cane. Cane me baby, cane me. I pass
on the chicken. With my stage jitters, the last thing I need is an
out-of-stomach experience. |
| They roll a montage of Mickey Rooney film clips: Andy
Hardy with Judy Garland, Boy's Town with Spencer Tracy, Requiem for
a Heavyweight with Jackie Gleason. I'm next on the bill. Suddenly
they hand me a few apologies from a few obscure people like Red Buttons,
Charlton Heston and Larry King! Suddenly I notice something. The letters
are all hand written. Is this the smallest font on the planet or what?
It's Showtime and No Time to get Stevie Wonder on the cell. IÕll have
to wing it. As usual. |
| The film montage ends. ThereÕs a thunder
of applause for Mr. Rooney's career. I take the podium. Dead Silence.
Mr. Rooney and his wife are six feet from the microphone. I decide
to hide behind an Ed Sullivan voice. I feel like I'm in slow motion
as I read the apologies. The sound system starts to squelch with feedback.
The LAPD said it took about four minutes. It only seemed like four
hours. |
| The luncheon closes with career comments by Mr. Rooney.
A standing ovation. |
| On the way out a music fan hands me his Instamatic and
asks Mr. Pat Boone for a Kodak moment. I snap the shutter and as I
hand back the camera, Mr. Boone makes a kind comment about my apologies
announcements. What a nice guy. |
| I'm in the parking lot. I'm heading back to suburbia.
I'm heading back to my day job. |
| Picture one perspiring screenwriter from the Midwest.
He's been asked to read a few words to honor a Hollywood icon. The
audience is full of celebrities. In a place called Los Angeles. The
signpost up ahead, The Twilight Zone. |
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