It used to be Bono's. Sonny's place. Before that I can't remember. But it was always Italian. And right there at the intersection of Melrose and La Cienega. The last time I was there Jack Douglas invited me for dinner with Richard Lewis, Steven Bauer, Geoff Emerick and a few other buddies. Before we sat down Richard and I made up, after our encounter at McCabe's, when we wall went to see Terry Reid. Knowing the booker, I got in early and saved the seats. But while I was waving to our group, showing them where I was, Richard slipped behind me and sat down in my seat, on the end of the row, on the aisle. I was not happy, but ultimately I moved deeper into the row, but Richard knew what he'd done, so he yelled over, "My back, I've got a bad back, I've got to sit on the end!" That was Richard Lewis. He was the same neurotic guy he was on stage and in "Curb Your Enthusiasm." And funny, his wife was as down to earth as he was crazy. I always quote Richard... He said before he met Joyce he dated slaves. Women who would do whatever he wanted. Joyce stood up to him.
As for Geoff Emerick... The rule of famous people is you don't talk to them about what they're famous for. But the remix of "Sgt. Pepper" had just come out and ultimately I brought this up with Geoff and he went from zero to one hundred instantly, he was pissed! The stereo mixes weren't afterthoughts, they'd put time into them, they were what everybody wanted.
As for Steven Bauer... What a character. He was just off his success in "Ray Donovan," and he assumed I knew all about it, when in truth I'd never seen the series. But after recounting his success, recalling the high points, he started telling me the story of his family's exit from Cuba. In detail. And not only was it fascinating, Bauer was treating me like a good friend, he was convivial, intimate, I could see why he was successful. Then again, was he really the guy in "Scarface"?
But that was years later. My dinner with Brodey was at the beginning of the twenty first century, in the main room, as opposed to the private back room I was in with Jack and his friends.
So we're just about finished and Fred enters the restaurant. With an entourage. A couple of women, another guy, and...
Donald Sutherland.
I mean come on, DONALD SUTHERLAND? Was there ever anybody cooler? Well, there was James Dean... Let's not argue about it, let's just say that Donald Sutherland was always cool. He burst on to the scene in "M*A*S*H," the breakthrough Robert Altman film, which was platformed as opposed to opened wide back in 1970, there was a small ad in the "Times" for weeks before it opened, building buzz about a movie almost no one was aware of.
In the movie Sutherland embodied the sixties, he was IRREVERENT! He didn't take it too seriously, he could see the humor in the insanity of war. That was what the era was all about, questioning authority.
And then there was "Klute" and even "Day of the Locust." As well as the cult movie "Don't Look Now," back when there used to be cult movies that you had to see at the revival house, that even if they played on television we didn't see, because we didn't own TVs, and they were edited anyway.
And "Steelyard Blues." And "Ordinary People." Donald Sutherland was part of the firmament, a true Hollywood star, someone who was not always playing himself, someone who emanated his interior thoughts, not only his exterior visage.
So we finished up and went over to Fred's table. They were in a booth, Brodey and I pulled up chairs on the outside. They'd just come from filming. And Fred was so NICE!
A lot of Hollywood people can be standoffish, especially if they don't know who you are.
But not Fred. He set the tone for the conversation. It was breezy. So, after the better part of ten minutes, I participated, I joined in.
And Donald Sutherland immediately gave me sh*t. Wow.
And when I spoke again, he criticized my word usage. And went on about it. So I STFU!
What an as*hole. I was not dominating the conversation. We were all having fun. But according to Sutherland, I was not entitled to speak. So I didn't.
I sat there in silence for nearly half an hour. I know the rules, it's not about me. But I can't say I was happy. It wasn't like they were discussing things I was unfamiliar with, it wasn't inside baseball.
And then, when I was completely calm, but not quite detached, Sutherland pontificated, about this or that. From his high horse.
And that's when I saw my opening.
I gave HIM sh*t!
And he was stunned. Speechless. He'd left an opening and I walked right in and slammed him right down. Employing the same holier-than-thou attitude he did.
And then I did it again.
And then Sutherland shut up for a while. Licked his wounds.
But then he said something and included me as part of his team. Like the two of us were speaking to the table at large. And then we started amping it up, playing with the language, making jokes, having a rollicking good time. The center of attention had shifted to us.
And when the evening came to a close, we all got up, for the long goodbye, and Donald embraced me in a bear hug, smiling, talking about the next time we got together.
That never happened, but...
Let that be a lesson to you. People will try to put you down, keep you in your place, and if you can't speak truth to power, you will be stepped on.
Whereas if you rise up and play their game...
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