My Best Friend

If you’ve been a reader of my blog then you know that my dog Willis has been the light of my life for the last fourteen-plus years. For his back story you can read the story of Willis from 2013. Sadly, that light went out on Monday when Willis became a true angel.



Above is the couple I will be forever indebted to, as they fostered this little two-month-old puppy and trusted us to raise him. Below is Peticures by Tess, who took care of Willis’ grooming needs from day one. She was much more than just a groomer; she adored Willis, spoke AND listened to him, and gave him the best personalized care you could ask for. This was a personal loss for her, as well.



The most recent part of Willis’ team was Pawsitive Vibes San Diego. When Willis’ original doggy daycare went out of biz, I was panicked. Who could walk him during the day while I was at work and give him the care and attention he required? Serendipity stepped in and I saw their flyer posted in the neighborhood. After our meet-and-greet, I knew that Paige and Bryan were the ones.



They gave Willis the best walks, took photos of him (damn good ones, too!), and even showered him with birthday gifts. Their love of dogs made me immediately bond with them.



Last but definitely not least, Willis LOVED Dexter’s Deli in North Park. I could not say the name in front of him as he understood it and would immediately run to the front door. The little booger galloped at a brisk pace until we reached the destination which was 1.2 miles away. He knew the route by heart; I didn’t have to steer him at all. I always knew that if for some reason he got away, I would most likely have been able to find him at Dexter’s. They gave him treats and had the best selection of supplies, toys, and all things doggie. When it was time to leave the shop, he would lock his paws into defiance mode and I would have to drag him unwillingly across the polished concrete floor.



Willis also frequented Station Tavern in South Park. The tater tots served there were a favorite. Pizza and tater tots were the two things that he would beg for. If those two food items were put into the microwave, he stared at me until he received his portion.



The breakfast nook was his command central. He would nap here but also watch the neighborhood, which gave him easy visual access to when the mail lady would make her deliveries. He would dash to the front door, paws sliding on the hardwood floors as he barked ferociously at the mail falling onto the floor from the slot in the wall. If I was out when it came, Heaven forbid if it was a check or something valuable; it was typically torn to pieces in his angry rage at the invasion to his home.



My friend Matt had the distinction of being the one person that Willis knew by name. Whenever I would speak it, his ears would pop up and the tail would start wagging. Matt met him before Willis had turned one and they have stayed close friends ever since. I knew that if Willis liked a person, they must be okay. The people he did not respond to or growled at…well, usually he was spot-on in his assessment.



Willis traveled with me to the Chateau Marmont almost every time I visited my favorite spot on earth. It was pretty much the only place he spent the night at besides our home. The bacon was his favorite part of staying there. Below is a shot from his first visit there in 2013:



On the balcony of the Penthouse with my bestie, Christy:



A trio of favorite shots of Willis at the Chateau, ever alert, ever by my side.



He was such a good poser, too. The guy never took a bad photo.



I also want to thank VCA Animal Hospital in Hillcrest for the excellent care they gave Willis throughout his lifetime, especially at the end when I was a complete basket case. They could not have been any kinder. The one consolation for me is knowing that Doug is now taking good care of Willis on the other side. My journey with Willis was way too short, but I am still grateful for every day that I had with him; wouldn’t trade a single moment. I learned more about love and communication from that sweet little creature than I have from any one or thing that has crossed my path.



While I believe time heals all wounds, this one is going to be hard.

See more of my photography at my main website.

Jayne signs an autograph

Back to Jayne Mansfield at Disneyland, circa May 1957. As luck would have it, I have been able to acquire a few more images from her family visit to the Park. In the previously posted shot above, Jayne is attempting to sign an autograph on the back of a cast member. The recently purchased image below shows her writing it on the side of the passenger car. I am going to “assume” that she had difficulty writing on the cast member’s back and decided to use the train siding instead.



A closeup of the sign on the back of the passenger car:



This shot has Jayne’s husband, bodybuilder Mickey Hargitay at left, Jayne and daughter, and radio/TV star Art Linkletter, near the Casey Junior attraction:



I wouldn’t bet the house, but the guy at left looks an awful lot like silent screen star Harold Lloyd:



MELTDOWN! It would appear the Jayne’s daughter is on the verge of a meltdown on the King Arthur Carrousel; it had been a very long day!



See more Jayne Mansfield photos at my main website.

Marmont Monday: Franco illustrated

Actor/Director/Artist James Franco published a book in 2014 titled Hollywood Dreaming: Stories, Pictures, and Poems. It contains a piece titled “Chateau Dreams,” which takes place at the Chateau Marmont on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. If you’ve read my blog, you know it’s pretty much favorite place. And Willis loves it, too. The above shots were taken by Mona Kuhn for the debut issue of MisterMuse magazine. I immediately recognized the headboard from the Chateau:



The below Mona Kuhn polaroids of Franco were also taken at the Chateau and have circulated on eBay for awhile.



Some have sold, some have not.



I decided to pair some of my Chateau shots taken over the years with the appropriate prose from Franco’s piece:

Chateau Dreams

I picture them all, in different positions,
And the same positions,
And I, like a sculptor, would position them, and mold them.
Or like a choreographer put them through the same paces,
Again and again.



There is an area off the main hotel building
Where the bungalows are.
At the center of the arrangement of chalk bungalows
There is an oval pool like a blue pill,
Huddled by ferns, palms, and banana trees
Tended to be wild,
Webbed by a nexus of stone walkways.



In the day, in summer,
Mermaids and hairy mermen drape the brickwork.
At night the underwater lights electrify the pool zinc blue;
The surface cradles the oven-red reflection of the neon Chateau sign



Above Sunset, above the paparazzi and miniskirts.

There is a painting of a blond sailor,
Dressed in blue and red and white,
A stoic version of myself.
For nine months in ’06, while fixing my house,
I stayed in the bungalows,



First in 82, next to the little Buddha in the long fountain
Trickling.



Lindsay Lohan was about.
The Chateau was her home and the staff were her servants.
She got my room key with ease;
She came in at 3 a.m.;
I woke on the couch, trying not to look surprised.
Instead of f***ing her.
I read her a short story about a neglected daughter.
Every night Lindsay looked for me.
My Russian friend Drew was always around like a wraith—He, like the blond painting,
was my doppelganger—
Writing scripts about rape and murder.
A Hollywood Dostoevsky, he gambled his money away.



We played a ton of Ping-Pong.



In ’82, John Belushi died from a speedball in Bungalow 3;
In ’54, forty-three-year-old Natalie Wood in Bungalow 2;



In 2005, Lindsay Lohan lived in Room 19 for two years
Because she “didn’t want to be alone.”
Ambulance calls were a regular antidote to her demon rights.



Midway through my stay,
I changed to Bungalow 89.
In that room,
I read a bunch of Jacobean plays
About revenge, seduction, and lust.



In Bungalow 89 there was the sailor on the wall,
Glass-eyed and pale,
My stoic self.



The room was on the second level,
The exterior walls hugged by vines.

Every night Lindsay looked for me and I hid.
Out the window was Hollywood.

See more Chateau Marmont cottage/bungalow photos at my main website.