For my birthday, I treat myself to lunch with Angie Dickinson, whom you think of as a Hollywood star, but I think of as a muse, a mentor and a surrogate mom. Yep, at 88, she is still all that, though fame is a funny thing. Oh, Angie. Lunch with her is the most comforting thing. But not long there. She remembers being trapped indoors by snow that filled the front doorway.
Dad moved the family out here when she was A good thing for her. A better thing for Burbank. Now we talk about family. Not sure Angie approves of all the usual customs and fuss. She was married twice, and neither worked out. Was there ever a more beautiful couple? She is feisty and tough and complains about forgetting things. I assure her that she is so whip-smart to begin with, she can afford a few slips.
What is that, star power? Men adore her. She was his fave. But as with any joke, there is truth to it. Resilience is such a turn-on for me, honestly. I like it in friends, I like it in dogs, I like it in movies and books. By nature, I am sort of wistful Trust me, she has a few bucks.
Admire her for her honesty and her mirth. I expected Los Angeles to be awash in ego and excess, riddled with veneers, brimming with phonies. There are a few, sure. At last count, four in Culver City, two dozen in Beverly Hills mostly at the agencies. Other than that, I think of it like most towns. Some dreams come true. So what do you do?
Roll out of bed each day, steady yourself as your feet hit the floor, take a breath, get on with it. Outside, I can smell the ocean. We pause in the El Coyote parking lot for a birthday selfie. Erskine latimes. You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.
