Parting Shots

Preview "Parting Shots: Stories about Hollywood!"
by Dee Gregory

My name is Mona Caulfield. I'm a reporter in Hollywood, writing about the greatest collection of damaged, self-absorbed geniuses since Mayer and Goldwyn. I'm retiring. And I'm telling the stories I kept out of the press for 25 years. TV star Maggie Strand, for instance: she won America's hearts as co-star of the sitcom "Forever Yours." Secretly our Queen of Comedy lived inside a personal hell of schizophrenia. Maggie made a breathtaking, polished exit on camera but she could not exit her mind. Four powerful men in Hollywood at the time made Maggie an international star: producer Barry Peyton; Maggie's alcoholic co-star Bobby Lane; her husband, TV director Ed Powers; and Late Night Show host Jimmy Burke. What they did when she disintegrated was beyond unthinkalbe.
       When the series "Forever Yours" was in its final season, Maggie appeared on Jimmy's Late Night Show. She entered to applause and lapsed into a full-blown, babbling psychotic episode on national television, having cut both wrists in her dressing room. We thought it was comedy of some sort; when the truth came tumbling home it was horrifying.
       Jimmy Burke was an international legend. He'd been the late night host at Metro for 15 years and through four marriages. He killed his career that night with Maggie in one instant. Clayton Hughes, Metro's CEO, had seen the now-famous Maggie Strand incident of course, as had the rest of America. Those days, the show went out live.
       "Have that bastard on a plane for New York tonight. I want Burke in my boardroom at nine a.m.," he barked at producer Vincent Aguado. "Where the hell were your production assistants? Couldn't they tell Miss Strand was in no condition to be interviewed, what with her hemorrhaging and passing out and all? I could ring your neck, Vincent!"
       Clayton slammed the phone down and slumped into the chair next to it. Burke had been a loose cannon for years but his popularity was through the roof. Too much money, too much power, though. He was childish and grandiose. No impulse control and he was selfish, mean and enormously fearful of failure. The combination of these traits and his lack of compassion the night Maggie collapsed onto the stage finally brought him down. He froze; he did not reach to help Maggie and the camera cannot lie for you no matter how famous you are. It doesn't care about you. It's a machine; it only records.
       Maggie's co-star, Bobby Lane, was a walking tragedy as well. He was never big on self-examination. He wasn't deep but he was funny. He had been both sheltered and abusively exploited by a young stage mother with stars in her eyes and poor judgment. Now, some judge tossed him in a drunk tank yet again, for driving under the influence. On the rough concrete slab near the hole in the floor that served as a urinal, Bobby had begun to perfect the alcoholic's ability to lie on one's back absolutely devoid of human dignity and still insist on his superiority over other people. The day before, he'd tied one on again. It was all coming back. His co-star Maggie had gone crackers and tried to kill herself on the Late Night Show last night. They had carted her off to some psych ward. To cheer himself now, he counted his blessings. He was probably a shoo-in for another Emmy in the spring. He was a perfect straight man to the seasoned comedienne that Maggie had become. His spirits sank again. He owed the IRS a fortune, hadn't paid taxes for years. They were closing in, the feds, clinging like lint to his accountant, nosing around. Bobby was totally obsessed now with the black hole that looked like his future. He worried with good cause; by the time Bobby and Maggie finished season seven of "Forever Yours," Bobby's boozing was at its height. The dice had been tossed. Would there be a chance now of anyone coming out on top?