Above, see all the stars as they appeared then...and as they appear now!
At the most recent Hollywood Show, held at the Westin Los Angeles Airport, I was discussing with one of my A-hound (that's "autograph") buddies just how long we could continue coming to these shows, considering so many of the attendees are people we've already met, and other potential guests are dropping like flies.
Not even kidding—this hearse was in front of the hotel as I first drove up!
Don told me, "Oh, I'll be here in 20 years in my Rascal, scooting around for Lindsay Lohan's autograph." He was joking, though. He couldn't care less about LiLo or most modern stars. For him it's Jane Withers through about Dallas, Don and most of the others who attend these shows can't be bothered. When does it end? I guess, as with life, it ends when it ends, so have fun while it lasts.
This was my shortest show. I only spent part of the first day and a few minutes on the second, since I had the GLAAD event and other stuff to do. But I couldn't not come, not with Angie Dickinson, Earl Holliman and Mamie Van Doren in the mix.
Here are my interactions, in order as they occurred:
Before she found fame, Madonna found Jean-Michel Basquiat, dating the influential Downtown artist in the early '80s. I always thought they were in some ways an odd couple—I would think Madonna would tire of Basquiat's serious drugging (and maybe she did!), though I guess the enfant terrible aspect was a commonality.
I was reminded of their affair when reading this fascinating (and rare) interview with art "megadealer" Larry Gagosian, who rose from selling art posters in the street to becoming the go-to guy for some of the most important original works of the past 30 years.
Speaking of an earlier time, he remembers when Basquiat was living with him in L.A. for a year:
Here's my gallery of shots from Madonna's first MDNA gig in L.A.; there are some good ones and I think the gallery is worth a browse, but I do think my accidentally saving a number of these as very low-res is a bit of a bummer!
I just noticed, while editing these, that Madonna was wearing pants until later in the tour during her "Like a Virgin" slow burn.
Mysterious photographer Venfield 8 is putting up full-sized posters of his work Essence Masculine #3 around New York and Los Angeles in the coming weeks, each numbered (limited edition of 50) and signed. I remember seeing an original Invader piece on an obscure bridge here in NYC that I passed for a year, always dying to pry it off. I never did, but someone did, and it's now worth thousands. I won't make that mistake again if I find a Venfield 8.
According to the artist, the Essence Masculine series "blurs the lines of sex in fashion advertising while presenting ultramasculinity that rarely makes it into the norm of the fashion world." The first two ads (Work Unfriendly) can be seen here.
Good luck getting your hands on one of the posters.
I hired my sweet pal Brad as my videographer and met him at the Westin Bonaventure just in time to check in and take our places. I kind of hate how the carpet was set up—the guests were allowed to congregate behind us to stargaze, which was distracting. But it was nothing compared to the women two spots down from me whose entire goal was to flash a huge "FREE GAY HUGS!" sign and video themselves receiving said hugs from roughly two-thirds of the celebrities who walked. (And I thought I was lame with my aggressive pic-with requests!) They were so damn loud! Luckily, they didn't ruin any of my interviews, but only by sheer luck.
Brad's mic needed batteries (he's blond; sorry, Brad) so I wound up videoing my own first chat, with Jennifer Tyrrell. She's the lesbian mom recently booted as a den mother by the virulently homophobic Boy Scouts of America. Smart woman and immediately likable. Unreal that they're getting away with that crap. I was a cub scout (I bailed on Webelos mainly because...what the fuck is a Webelo???) and fondly remember my Pinewood Derby racing days as well as the hillbilly band we assembled for a talent night. Not to mention the father/son cook-off, in which my father and I had a well-appreciated coconut cream pie. But still, fuck the Scouts.
My first stars were Angela Featherstone (STUH-nning, but my campadre confessed she had been an ice queen on a recent shoot) and Michelle Paradise of Exes & Ohs. No Megan Cavanagh, but they were delightful.
Next, I snagged Grant Gustin of Glee. I don't really follow the show, but no one that cute is getting past me without a third degree. He's adorable and quite articulate, even if he refers to gay people as "homosexuals," which totally didn't offend me because he was totally doing it to sound smart, not homophobic. I had a homosexual crush on various parts of him.
Max Adler from the same show was equally adorable and charming. He's passionate about his role, even though it came as a total shocker that his bullying character would be written as a late-blooming man-lover.