Authors: Sally Kellerman
Read My Lips (40 page)
In those days there was a “petite” Grand Palais with 500 people. Today, the Grand Palais has 150,000 fans lined up for
blocks. Cannes used to feel like it was all about the films and the fun; now it’s just about your next deal.
LA. I’
VE LIVED HERE ALL MY LIFE.
I’
VE DONE ALL MY RISK TAKING,
heart breaking, lovemaking, and mistake making here, right in my own hometown. I still live in the house I’ve been in for the last forty years, just twenty-five miles from where I was born and raised. Though I’ve stayed in the same place, I’ve traveled miles in terms of growth and learning. It seems that’s what life is all about.
Someone said that you can do anything you want in life as long as you’re willing to take the consequences. Life is definitely more challenging when you’re not doing what’s expected or what seems like the strategic, smart thing to do. But ultimately, it’s your life, so the choice is up to you. So I will go ahead and advocate following your passion.
If I hadn’t done that and lived my own way, mistakes and all, look at all the experiences I would have missed out on: singing in honor of Mike Stoller and Jerry Leiber, who passed away not long ago, at Carnegie Hall alongside Natalie Cole and Donald Fagen. Performing at the Music Center in LA. Singing at shows with Paul Williams, Ben E. King, James Ingram, and Patti Austin. Not long before she died, Rosemary Clooney came up to me after a show and took the time to tell me that she enjoyed my performance. I was thrilled to hear that from her, because I’d listened to her all throughout my childhood. Those moments were possible because I followed my passion and somehow didn’t worry about the consequences.
O
NE NIGHT IN
LA I
EVEN GOT TO PERFORM WITH
D
AVID
G
ATES
from the band Bread, my imaginary serial killer–cult neighbors back in the 1970s. Funny how life sometimes comes full circle.
My family—Jonathan, Claire, Jack, and Hanna—inspire me to
keep chasing my passions. Now when I pass a mirror, I think about all my good fortune, all the dreams that have come true for me, and, luckily, all the ones I have left to work on. Like I say to my husband about my music, “Honey! I’m almost there. All I have to do is live.”
Because my world hasn’t changed much geographically, I am surrounded by reminders of the past, and I love this. There’s not a street that I drive down that doesn’t hold memories for me. Some of those memories are terribly poignant, because in a short, recent stretch of years I lost Luana Anders, Robert Altman, my mom, Edith Kellerman, Milton Wexler, and my fairy godmother, Jennifer Jones.
I last saw Bob Altman about a month before his death in 2006. We were at Bob and Kathryn’s home at the beach, enjoying Kathryn’s usual sumptuous spread of macaroni and cheese and sausages—all homemade, all beautifully prepared. Konni Corriere, their daughter, was there, along with their good friend Joan Tewksbury, who had written Bob’s movie
Nashville.
Bob and I sat together, smoking grass and laughing at everything. We were like the two bad kids at the dinner table, the only pot smokers. (By the way: two years now, and no grass. It feels good.) I was still as mesmerized by his hands as I was on the first day I met him, by those long Dickensian fingers, like birds flying to the heavens.
I was blessed to spend a lot of time with Jennifer Jones toward the end of her life. She was living at the beach with her son Bobby Walker, his wife, Dawn, and their two darling children. She was happy, relaxed, and without a hairdresser in sight. She had never looked more beautiful.
I’m counting on the fact that they are all looking down at me from heaven because I’m still talking to them. And I feel that they too keep cheering me on. Sometimes I have to remind myself to call a few people who are still alive.
I still have a lot of my friends from the old days too: my partners in crime Bud Cort and Morgan Ames. I see darling Elliot Gould, and whenever we get the chance, we sing Bob Altman’s
praises. Kathryn Altman, still a very dear friend of mine, comes to my shows, and her amazing daughter Konni has worked with Jonathan and me.
But there’s a lot that’s new in my small-town world too. Driving down my beloved Sunset Boulevard, I marvel at how it has changed. No more drive-by window shopping—there’s too much traffic. No more Chez Paulette. No more neighborhood hangouts where screen legends sit and sip a cappuccino; now they’re crowded with tourists. I pass Sweetzer and Doheny and Havenhurst, still picturing Googie’s and Schwab’s. Thank goodness the Chateau Marmont is still going strong. I’m sure the young actors have their haunts and their own screen legends. They’re just not mine. They grew up in this environment and I’m sure they’re having as much fun as I did.
In the mornings I take walks in the Hollywood Hills. When it’s clear enough, I look out over the valley, where the orange groves that I knew are just a memory.
Singing to myself, as I often do, I sometimes thank George Griffin as I take a surprise breath and, squinting into the sun, think about change.
Won’t Hollywood be great once it’s finished?
Won’t we all?
I
NEVER THOUGHT
I
WOULD BE AN AUTHOR OR THAT IT WOULD
even be possible to write and publish a book of my own. But here I am—better late than never! However, I didn’t do it all by myself, and I am incredibly grateful to everyone who helped me realize this dream; so many wonderful people and happy accidents came together to make this book possible.
I am forever indebted to Yfat Reiss Gendell of Foundry Literary + Media who shepherded this project from start to finish. From our very first conversation, Yfat immediately understood the essence of what I wanted this book to be. Her efforts landed me a stupendous publishing team: Editorial director Amanda Murray and publicity director Georgina Levitt at Weinstein Books have given my book unwavering attention and support. I am so thankful to them for them taking this on. The Weinstein team harnessed the eagle-eye of editor Elisa Petrini, who whipped this book into shape, and the talents and design flair of production head Christine Marra, who made sure the book you hold in your hands not only got to press on time, but looked fantastic when it came out the other end.
I am lucky to have had my co-writer, Denise Kiernan, working with me throughout this brand new experience. I have never met anyone like her. Denise took the fear out of this unfamiliar process and eased my troubled mind time and again. She brought no ego to our writing together, no matter what I red-lined. She is quite an amazing woman and writer and I thank her for her wisdom and kindness.
I would not have had the pleasure of working with any of these people had it not been for Elliott Gould and Scott Yanover. I have to thank Elliott for introducing me to Scott, who in turn connected me with both Yfat Reiss Gendell and Marty Gepsman, the latter of whom helped make my proposal possible. Scott has become a good friend and I’ve always loved Elliott.
It is no mystery to anyone who knows me that computers and I aren’t the closest of friends. Many people came together to assist me with everything from typing changes to printing drafts and wrangling emails. My dear friend Konni Corriere was there from the beginning of this project, keeping the office running and always offering support and encouragement. Her enthusiasm for this book means the world to me. My manager, Charles Lago, and his partner Christopher Johnson at Polimedia have been unwavering in their support for this project. They are always available, and had kindly “loaned” me members of their office staff when I desperately needed them. I thank Jonathan Aleman and especially Jayel Aheram, who was patient and responsive and helped me meet my tightest deadlines. Ellen Houlihan, a talented young filmmaker, volunteered her time and typing as well. I am indebted to them all, especially Charles who is such a wonderful manager and always in my corner. I adore him.
There are so many individuals in countless areas of my life who just helped keep my world going through all the craziness. Looks may not be everything, but the especially talented photographer Alan Mercer knows how to make the most of mine. I am so fortunate to have had Alan’s talents at my disposal for many, many years, keeping me looking good. There are doctors and dentists who have been so patient with my sometimes unpredictable life circumstances. Dr. Pitt has taken excellent care of my animals while I work. The lovely, caring Benny Mena, whom I’ve known since he was just a boy, is so much more than the man who takes care of our pool—he’s family. My friend, the amazing Mary Ellen Kay, has cut my hair for years and gives me the confidence to keep going out in public. Patrick Foley, it’s taken a village to keep me looking good, and in this case you’re the chief; thanks so much for your taste and talent. Dyan Cannon—your warmth, your spirituality, and love—you really walk the walk. And thanks so much for testifying. It is difficult to express the depths of my love and gratitude for the kindness and generosity of my
friends Laura and Larry Worchell who, as well as Esther Rydell, have helped keep my life going during tough and uncertain times. I also have to thank Sandra and John Stephenson for their many years of true friendship and spiritual guidance. My darlings Delmi Batres and Vivianne Carter, you both know how I feel about you. All of these people have made life livable, and without their support I know I would not have had the time, space, or sanity to finish this book.
My sister Diane and Gloria, for their emotional support and friendship. Bud Cort for forty years of friendship and all the gifts, the laughs, and the love. Kathryn Altman, what can I say? I just love you to pieces. Aren’t you my soul sister? Isn’t June 2nd? I think so.
I had often thought about doing something with all my stories, but never knew how to begin. My friend David Rudnick once suggested I just write a letter to somebody I care about. I did, and it helped me get started. For a good 20 years, my dear friend Richard Martini hounded me about writing down my stories, and even volunteered his own time helping me organize my thoughts. He sat me in front of a tape recorder years ago and got me talking. Now he has written a book of his own,
The Flipside: A Tourist’s Guide on How to Navigate the Afterlife.
I am so proud of him, and so grateful.
Jonathan. My partner, my love, my darling husband. Jonathan kept pushing me and prodding me to write a book, often threatening to write it for me if I didn’t get my act together. He is my hero, my friend and my support system. Our life may not be perfect, but I’ve never been bored. My family—Jonathan, Claire, Jack, and Hanna—inspires me in ways that I am still discovering. Hanna, my sweet bright loving spirit, I’ve learned a deeper way of living because of you. I love you so much. My funny Jack, in these challenging times, you’ve shown yourself to be a man of great caring. We couldn’t have made it through without your help. And you are funny, I love you, too. Claire, you’ve been my spiritual guide, my nutritionist, and I’m proud to have been your mother all these years. You’ve been an inspiration and what a beautiful voice. I love you. I would not be who I am or have achieved what I have without you.
Well kids, I guess that’s it. I’ve had the most wonderful ride, I feel like the luckiest woman in the world and you all are the reason. With all my love and thanks, Sally.
Academy Awards night/dress (1971),
105–106
,
108
,
109–113
Adice, Keith,
195