Hollywood Dreams.

If you think Hollywood exists, you've never been there! This sign is on Hollywood Blvd.  There are parts of Los Angeles known as Hollywood.
Believe me when I tell you, it is an imaginary place, like Paradise. It is a total fantasy, though actual real estate moguls will denounce my words.

I went to school in Hollywood.
I did practice teaching at Hollywood High School.
One of my children was born in Hollywood.
But if you came to visit and wanted a tour, you'd be hard pressed to find that Hollywood is more of a concept than an actual place with definite parameters.

There is Hollywood  conglomerate of studios around the area, but most studios are now in other locations, other neighborhoods.

When we were first married,  I knew more people
connected to the movie/television industry than you find anywhere else.

Studios are small cities, walled and protected and with their own culture and lingo.  The fun happens when the "shootings", the locations are outdoors, in neighborhoods.  Then, entire city blocks become entrenched in the phenomenon of movie making, and neighbors whisper to each other during shooting times, park in unexpected places, drive around trying to get back to their homes.  Yes, Hollywood moves in your neighborhood and you are now forever immortalized in that episode of Matlock.  (Matlock habitually shot scenes in and around Warner Center, my neighborhood.)

Back then I was not a writer, not even a secret one.

Back then I made a living as a school principal.  All that noise and bother, all that artificiality irritated me. Our neighbor worked for Johnny Carson then, and provided all the gossip I could stand. My best friend from college has a costume shop where pretend is the name of the game, and she has plenty of stories of strange people believing any day their luck will change, their discovery will take place.

I wonder how anyone could write in  a place where everything and everyone is a figment of some one's imagination.

Dressing the Naked

There are two things we need to navigate today's world: costumes and lighting!
What? You might be surprised at this allegation. You might think I'm just joking.
No. I'm the serious type.
Though, I really enjoy Jon Steward's nightly sparring; occasional dips in Jay Leno's irresistable hair do and possible spins in his fabolous sports cars.

 The sign above is a landmark in Hollywood. I told you a story about a friend and I in that shop,  in my  memoir  entitled Hollywood Dreams.

I'm digressing.

We need costumes, from shoes to hair color/cut/enhancements, to participate in social discourse. Costumes let us in the house. As those folks found out when they leisurely strolled in and nobody stopped them at The White House.  Their costume was most appropriate. Costumes identify you as a rock star, a secretary, a CEO.

Costumes tell the world who we are, how much respect or reverence we anticipate, and how people should address us.  No wonder The Pope keeps wearing those ancient outfits and insists nuns and priests all dress alike.  He knows all about costumes.

We also need lighting.  George, right under the costume shop up there, I happen to know, used to have just a small shop. But, with much finesse and perseverance, he spread his goods all over the first storey,  insisting that lighting needs respect.  I ask you the same thing: would you go in a place with poor lighting?  Didn't you read Hemingway's short story, A Clean,Well-lighted Place? Didn't your mother teach you anything about applying your make-up with plenty of light?

You will not frequent  places that  are stingy with their lights.

In a well-lighted place nobody will cheat, rape, or serve lousy food.

I digress.

We are coming up on Fat Tuesday, the day for banquets, merriments, and the wearing of strange costumes. It is the last day before we regroup and repent. It is the last day for shedding our usual costume and don some outlandish robe that will make us feel more important, more daring, more loved, more respected, more rich, more of everything we want and don't have within our daily confines.

It is also a day when we can shed that identity we are draped with, for all to judge us, forever pinning us in place.

We can finally let our imagination  run wild.

Why, with just the right lighting, we can be Johnny Depp or Angelina Jolie for one day.

You think costumes are just for Hollywood and for Fat Tuesday?  What are you wearing today?