Legend in His Own Mind-2

June, 1980

Dear Lázaro,

Well I'm actually here. All my life I've being hearing about this mythical place…and seeing it on countless reruns… and now... I'm actually here! Do you know what a thrill it is to drive down the freeway and see the exit signs saying “Hollywood Boulevard” and “Sunset Boulevard?" I have to pinch myself.

I've stared up at the Hollywood sign on the hill fifteen thousand times and I've only been here a week.

I already went to Grauman's Chinese to see all the footprints. I had to see how mine would look like next to Humphrey Bogart’s or Jimmy Stewart’s. I have decided that mine should be next to Gary Cooper’s. Our feet actually match. And besides they should keep all the two-time Oscar winners together.

Did you know that Betty Grable actually has a leg print? And Jimmy Durante a nose print?

It's such a thrill to actually stand on Hollywood and Vine. Or go to the Griffith Park observatory where they filmed "Rebel without a Cause” and practice walking like James Dean.

I think I’m going to tint my windows.

Yes I bought a car. A beat up, old, canary yellow Volkswagen bug. They're collector's items, you know. Now you know I've never had a car before. What real New Yorker has? And this one's a stick shift! I'm lurching all over the place. Actually the other day I got a great big scare. Let me tell you, buddy boy, some of these streets are pretty steep. I mean straight down like the Cyclone at Coney. Well, I'm parked facing down the mountainside. In order to turn on the engine you have to shift into neutral. But the minute I do that the car starts to roll down this hill. I freaked. Can you imagine rear- ending a car when you haven't even turned on your motor?

Speaking of rear-enders...I hit this lady the

other day driving down La Brea and she looked into her rear

view mirror at me. She asked me with her hand what happened. I looked at her car and gave her an okay sign. She blew me a kiss and drove off.

Talk about laid back California. Can you picture that happening in Brooklyn? She would've gotten out and cursed me in a foreign language. Right after banging the hood of the car and threatening to have her big no-neck boyfriend teach me a lesson.

I found this weekly newspaper called the Drama-Logue that has all of these auditions. So I have my week all mapped out. Problem is I don't know how to get around so well. I always end up on the wrong freeway. They have about fifty thousand of them. All criss-crossing each other like a concrete spider web. It's like the entrance to the George Washington Bridge only three times more. They should paint them all different colors like on a subway map. That'd make it so much easier to get around.

I wish you were here to guide me. You always were better at getting around. Remember how I'd always forget to take the Times Square shuttle and end up on the West Side all the time? Well here the West Side is on the other side of a mountain.

Legend in His Own Mind -1

May, 1980

Dear Lázaro,

Toilets! My first letter to you and I’m writing about toilets. Well about one toilet in particular but still…you know what I mean.

Here I am on my way to Hollywood to become a famous movie star; writing these letters to you in hopes that you will keep them because you know they’ll be worth a lot someday; and I start the very first one talking about a toilet.

You see what happens when you’re not with me!

I was on the plane for what seemed like an eternity. I had never been on a flight that long. Okay fine, I had never been on a flight. (I’m not counting the helicopter ride off the Pan Am building).

I managed to spill some food on myself. Those trays are very unmanageable and those seats are small. My knees were under my chin the entire time. And God forbid the person in front ever wanted to recline.

Anyway I went to the bathroom to check the damage to my pants. I didn’t want to make a terrible impression on Mother’s distant cousin who was going to pick me up. This wasn’t a bathroom. It was a Port-a-Potty with lights. An elevator was roomier.

Anyway I couldn’t see the stain very well because the mirror wasn’t full length. So I stood on top of the toilet to get a better view when the whole plane shifted. (I found out later that they call it an air pocket) It felt like the big lurch when the A train goes over the bridge to Rockaway. So I slipped and my foot got stuck in the toilet.

Now this isn’t a regular toilet either. This thing has a flap that opens up. I guess it goes out into the atmosphere. I don’t know but it scared me to death.

I’m pulling and pulling but my foot won’t budge. So then I see a little button that says stewardess. I figured it was like an alarm button on an elevator. So I went for it. Except I couldn’t reach it very well, stuck like I am with my foot in the toilet. So as I’m twisting around trying to hit this button another one of those nasty air pockets happens and my hand hits the flush button.

Suddenly the bottom of this toilet opens up and I see my foot being sucked down. I had this strange vision of landing in L.A. with my left leg hanging down from the plane. Very Flintstones. So I gave my leg a big yank and managed to pull my foot out. Unfortunately the shoe did not come back with it. I imagine it landed somewhere in Indiana. (I hope not on top of anyone).

Can you imagine? Cow killed by Unidentified Flying Oxford.

I walked back to my seat with a step and a thwap. A step and a thwap. And every thwap left a wet footprint on the carpet on the aisle.

I landed in L.A. with one shoe and one very wet sock. Needless to say my distant cousin has become a long distance cousin.

What an embarrassing beginning to a future illustrious career.