10/12/22
Newsletter125
The Crack of Dawn
I have never personally experienced Antisemitism, although I have seen it. My crazy, late friend, Rick Sandford, began dressing like an Orthodox Jew for his own amusement, even though he wasn’t Jewish. Every day he would wear a yarmulka on his head, a talis, or prayer shawl, draped over his shoulders. Honestly, I think he just liked the look. As we were walking through W. Hollywood and talking one evening, a street person asked Rick and I for a handout and we both ignored him. A fellow walking behind us said loud, ostensibly to the street guy, “You’ll never get any money out of that Jew.” So, the one bit of Antisemitism I’ve seen was aimed at a gentile.
And since it simply amuses me that it just became the Jewish year of 5782 – happy new year, everybody – that I have a Jewish calendar, as well as a Gregorian calendar, on my wall. I printed out last year’s calendar, and ran across this joke, and as I went to print this year’s Jewish calendar, I came upon the same joke. I entered into Google, “Free downloadable Jewish calendar,” and got several variations on: “Free downloadable Jewish calendar, $3.99.”
In 1977 at the age of 18 I decided that I had to hitchhike to Alaska. I said to Rick Sandford about 15 years later, “Can you believe that I hitchhiked to Alaska when I was eighteen?” Rick replied in his own wise way, “Who but an 18-year-old would do such a thing?” There were a lot of similarities to Sean Penn’s movie, Into the Wild (2007). I chronicled all of this in my book, Going Hollywood (2009), but one incident sticks out and amuses me. It took me nine days to hitchhike from L.A. to Tok Junction, Alaska, where I encountered more mosquitoes than I have ever seen before or since. I turned right around and hitchhiked out of there. When I got back down around Vancouver, it struck me that I hadn’t seen a movie in two weeks, which was the longest stretch of not seeing a movie in my whole life up until then. And the hottest young filmmaker working, Martin Scorsese, who had just recently made one of the best movies I had ever seen, Taxi Driver (1976), had a new film that had just opened, New York, New York (1977). Getting in and out of the city of Vancouver is a hassle, so I decided to Hitchhike east and visit my friends and family in Detroit. The only city of any size along my route that might have New York, New York showing was Calgary, Alberta. It was a beautiful warm summer day as I arrived in Calgary. I was in full mountain man mode: I had a big pack on my back, muddy hiking boots, a big bushy beard, long dirty hair, and was generally filthy. As I marched through this lovely, seemingly brand new city, I really stuck out . I sat down at a café, bought a cup of coffee and a newspaper and checked out the movie section. There was New York, New York listed, and it had a matinee show in a couple of hours. Perfect. A fellow in shorts looked at me quizzically, then finally asked, “What are you doing?” I said, “I’m going to see New York, New York at 3:00. Do you know where this theater is?” He thought that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He finally said, “It’s not far, would you like me to show you?” I said yes. He said, “Wanna smoke some hash?” I said, “Sure. Where?” He led me through this gleaming little modern city to the one street in downtown Calgary in 1977 that hadn’t yet been developed. It was a block long wooded lot in the middle of a city. We seated ourselves on a big old downed tree, and he pulled out a brass pipe and a foil-wrapped hunk of hash the size of a golf ball. He and I proceeded to smoke a bunch of this tasty blond hash and joke and laugh. As it neared 3:00 I said, “I’ve got to go.” He said, “To the movies?” I said, “That’s why I stopped here in Calgary. To see a movie.” He thought that was hilarious, and took me to a small, brand-new, downtown movie theater. We were both giggling as we shook hands and said goodbye. He said, “Enjoy the movie,” and set off up the street. We’d never even asked each other our names. Anyway, the movie sucked. My favorite young filmmaker had completely succumbed to the decadence, slumming, and sloth of high-end Hollywood and had created his first bona fide piece of shit. As I hiked back to Queen’s Highway One, on this bright sunny day, just beginning to fade to dusk, I thought, “It sure didn’t take Martin Scorsese long to completely sell out. What a fucking weasel. You’ve really got to hand it to Hollywood, it licks the best of them fast.”
However, being 18 years old, I knew that I would never fall for such a thing. Once I made it, I would stick the my guns and never sell out. Luckily I never had to deal with that problem.
A good day to one all.