It's taken me quite a few days to articulate how I feel right now. Several friends have called and I haven't had it in me to return them. If you're reading this, maybe this will explain why.
Never have I questioned this industry we call "entertainment" more than I have this week. Everyone in Hollywood is grieving for Heath Ledger (I'll write more about that later - let's let the dust settle a bit). The elections are next week, and the rains haven't stopped. I'm trying to make campaign calls for Barack Obama, but I don't know how effective I've been because I've been so sad. I never knew Heath personally, but I feel like I did.
In 2005, on my birthday, David and I attended the New York premiere of Brokeback Mountain and sat in the row behind him. He seemed almost embarrassed by all the attention, and he really kind of kept to himself, especially at the after party. He looked like a combination of a man and a boy in his dark suit, a little awkward and impatient to get the night over with. I wanted to approach him, tell him how wonderful I thought he was, but I instinctively kept my distance. I didn't realize until that night was a true artist he was, how transformative and intelligent in a way that surpassed his years (he was 26 at the time). Anyway, here I am, already waxing on as if I'm writing a tribute. I need to save that for later.
When I got the news last week that he was gone, it didn't seem real. It still doesn't seem real.
In the midst of this tragedy, we now have some nutjob imposter claiming to be Heath's father, calling everyone in town, trying to get phone numbers of celebrities. Incredibly, he has managed to reach several A-listers and have lengthy conversations with them. He has caused an unbelievable amount of damage. See today's New York Post for more details on that. The story is all true.
What kind of world do we live in that spawns people like this? Is he a tabloid reporter? A loner whackjob who just wants to talk to celebrities? This loathsome individual has made a lot of people very paranoid, distrustful of whom they are talking to, and more stressed out than they were when they first got the news. I hope this person is found, prosecuted, humiliated, and hung.
I keep telling myself this has nothing to do with reality. We do live in a bubble out here. I kind of miss the days of Nashville, when I naively believed everything I read, anything I was told. When I was actually "in awe" of movie stars and Hollywood. I couldn't wait to pack up my Toyota and make that drive across the country. How silly it all seems now.
But Heath was the real deal. He wasn't driven by money or fame; he truly loved acting. I understand that. So in spite of the distaste and the disillusionment I've experienced this last week, I still somehow have hope that there is some meaning to all this.
The picture above was taken here in LA during a break in the rain. As I was driving to work last week, I drove under a rainbow that looked exactly like this. They were everywhere. I had never seen anything like it.
Come to think of it, that was Tuesday. That was the day Heath died.
