August 28, 1996 |
In Los Angeles there are two stellar reduction techniques, one for the body, the other for the mind. If you're fat, there's UCLA's Obesity Center, where they'll hand you a prescription for fen-phen. For those with overweight egos, there's a job as a Hollywood assistant, where they'll hand you your head if you can't find a phone number immediately, have the walnut gearshift knob for the Ferrari delivered instantly, and the dry-cleaning back quicker than an agent can flick a Rolodex.
March 5, 1996 |
The anonymous note had been hand-delivered to the production office, though no one knew when or by whom. It read: "Shoot Butch and knock off the swearing or she'll end up in the unemployment line I guarantee." The threat was directed at Sharon Gless, who was then starring in the TV series "Cagney & Lacey." The actress had for years received unwelcome attention from disturbed fans, including a young woman who in 1990 barricaded herself inside Gless' home with a rifle and 500 rounds of ammunition.
June 30, 1995 |
As a veteran provider of the city's most quintessential service, Ron Holder is used to getting the best perks. He has flown the Concorde, trod the red carpet at film premieres and been up close and personal at the Oscars (third row center, right behind Tom Hanks). He has lazed on movie sets, toured first class throughout Australia and New Zealand, and sat around a piano belting out show tunes with Liza Minnelli.
April 4, 1995 |
We may never know what the jurors in the O.J. Simpson trial think of prosecution witness Brian (Kato) Kaelin. But as far as Hollywood is concerned, the verdict is already in: He's hot . . . this minute. The 36-year-old, Z-movie bit-player (who can forget him in "Hail Caesar"?) and celebrity "house guest" has become a household word. In fact, personal assistants--the "gofers" who cater to the stars' every need and whim--are now, thanks to Kaelin, known as "Katos."
April 3, 1995 |
We may never know what the jurors in the O.J. Simpson trial think of prosecution witness Brian (Kato) Kaelin. But as far as Hollywood is concerned, the verdict is already in: He's hot . . . this minute. The 36-year-old, Z-movie bit-player (who can forget him in "Hail Caesar"?) and celebrity "house guest" has become a household word. In fact, personal assistants--the gofers who cater to the stars' every need and whim--are now, thanks to Kaelin, known as "Katos."
March 22, 1995 |
Information about personal finance abounds in cyberspace. It's all over CompuServe, America Online and Prodigy. But many on-line denizens don't realize the extent to which it's busting out on the Internet as well. The other day, for instance, I was wondering whether closed-end municipal bond funds might still be a good deal, so I posted that question to misc.invest.funds.
February 19, 1995 |
'Hot, young, gifted, undiscovered writer from NYC," read the ad in Daily Variety's Situations Wanted classifieds. "Type 65 WPM. Organizational wizard. Never heard of 'sexual harassment.' If you are a successful filmmaker, I want to be your assistant." Pamela Francis, a 27-year-old New Yorker transplanted to L.A., placed this ad because, she says, "one of the swiftest ways to climb up (in the industry) is to be an assistant."
May 29, 1992 |
Hoping to play midwife at the birth of what is touted as a $3.5-trillion "mega-industry," Apple Computer today will preview its first "personal digital assistant," a hand-held, pen-operated computer that functions like an intelligent note pad. Code-named Newton, the videocassette-sized device will transform a handwritten message into neat block letters and carry out simple instructions.
September 16, 1991 |
The other day, a friend asked a question I'd never been asked before: "What's it like to have attendants?" She was referring to those people who spend 24 hours a day, seven days a week with me. The men and women who have accompanied me through every crisis, every celebration, every happy, sad or indifferent time for the 20 years since I was paralyzed in a fall. The one thing an attendant is not is a gorilla in a white coat who wheels sick people around.