Wow. I read that Barry got a lot of hate mail when eventually wrote a serious column about his mother’s death, which was a suicide. People were really angry at him for breaking his normal routine and not being funny for once, and it really shook him up.
Especially since Michael Stipe is, you know, gay…
The worst I can think of is Sean Penn. I worked security in Malibu where he was married to Madonna back in the mid-80’s. There were rumors of his drunk and abusive behavior (well, I saw him drunk many times, but never with her) but it all came to a head when he tied her to a chair for something like 72 hours. She was forced to piss and shit all over herself (I saw the chair after it happened, it was naaaasty) and when she eventually escaped and ran to the police station, she was so messed up & disheveled that nobody recognized her.
What’s even more disgusting is that he somehow managed to keep it out of the media. Even a recent “True Hollywood Story” episode failed to make public the reason for their breakup. I think it’s repulsive that they would give that mysoginistic psychopath a second chance when they demonize other celebrities for ridiculously trivial things (like Nick Nolte…)
Was that before or after 9/11? Because I remember his first column that week beginning, “No humor column today. I don’t want to write it and you don’t want to read it.”
I was upstairs at a club that did a lot of comedy in San Francisco in 1985 seeing Bo Diddley. During the break in the set, went downstairs and ended up playing pinball with Robin Williams. BTW, he really sucks at pinball. But no remarkable body odor from Robin. Actually, he was very cool and happily recorded a KDVS radio station ID for me.
The Sly Stallone story I heard, directly from a friend that worked in a really nice hotel in Maui where Stallone stayed, was that he would poop in the shower. Dunno, maybe he’s into enemas. regardless, the hotel cleaning staff refused to clean his bathroom.
“And, boy, are my arms tired”…
Love the Ike!
Artworld celebs, while not name-worthy of Entertainment Tonight, exist on a higher astral plane of creepiness.
Franz Klein was once asked to watch a friend’s dog for a few days. He ignored it and it died after becoming so hungry it ate a box of laundry soap. Klein took the opportunity to wax philisophical: “artists are people who can survive in environments that can kill dogs.”
Jackson Pollack got himself banished from his favorite bar (I don’t recall if it was the Cedar Street Tavern), so he stood outside alone, looking in the window night after night.
The sculptor Marisol once went to a cocktail party around Christmastime at a home where they had a tree with presents under it. She decided to take the presents for herself, and when they stopped her she shouted “Let’s all leave! We can’t be here with these greedy people!”
I had a friend who worked at the Guggenheim when they had a show by Agam, who made sculptures that were basically hanging accordions which when viewed showed complete images made up of all the parts viewed from that one angle. He cut to the head of the line in the cafeteria, and refused to pay, declaring “I’m Agam!” instead. When a museum staffer tried to talk to him, Agam spit in his face.
More sad than creepy is the story of Arshile Gorky, who’s wife had to keep a constant suicide watch on him. When she’d see him heading for the woods with a rope, she’d send the kids to tag after him, telling them that he was actually going to make a swing for them.
This is part of Weird Al’s message from his website about why he performed after his parents’ deaths. Unlike VCO3, I don’t find it at all creepy and the last sentence is especially touching.
It is not uncommon for someone to make strange choices or to behave in unusual ways in the hours and days following the death of loved ones. It really is unfair to judge the behavior of the bereaved.
I remember that Robin Williams made an appearance on Donahue the day after he buried his father. It made me think of the opera Pagliacci that has the grieving clown.
Back to the subject: I saw a photo of Yul Brenner with hair. That creeped me out. He definitely made the right decision in shaving his head.
A friend of mine, had a friend that got her an extra role on The West Wing. She was on screen for less than four seconds I’d say. Her friend was in the business, not on screen, but knew a lot of people involved in the process.
Anyways, my friend, the girl that got her the “part”, Val Kilmer, and a couple other people were all in an elevator together. She said that he was definitely on some sort of drug, so much so that everyone else in the elevator was visibly uncomfortable.
She’s seen plenty of stoned, coked-out, drunk, tripping, and otherwise crazy people, and was sure he was really high. On what, she did not know. Had he been overly shy, I doubt that he would have been making the rest of the occupants in that elevator uncomfortable.
I was kind of disheartened by this because he is one of my favorite actors. Not that I think that any and all drug usage equals naughty behavior, but it kind of made me realize that more people in the movie industry are users than I might think.
On a personal note, I once met Billy Corgan (singer for Smashing Pumpkins) at a bar. The only reason that my friends and I were even there, was because there was a potential that some performers from the next day’s Lollapalooza might be there. I believed the radio ad that said as much to some degree, but wasn’t expecting much. Sure, the spoken word performers were there as promised, but there was little else of interest going on.
After an hour or so of ho-hum spoken word stuff, a small group of people walked into the bar. What caught my eye was the really tall guy. They sat down at a table near the door, and none of them went to the bar to get a drink (no cocktail waitresses or servers in this dive bar).
I looked at the guy, and realized that it was Billy Corgan. I was either the only person to notice that, or the only person that felt like not ignoring his presence. So, I went to the bar, asked the bartender for a sharpie (which he actually had much to my surprise) and approached Billy’s table.
I made sure to not block his view of the show, or stand over him, and didn’t get too close. I kind of squatted about 2 feet away from him, towards the front of his view. When he looked at me, I said “Excuse me Mr. Corgan, could I please get your autograph?” He looked at me like a kid looks at his Mom when asked to take out the trash. “Must I?” he said.
I didn’t really have time to answer, not that I didn’t pause, before he grabbed the sharpie in my hand, and the bill of my ballcap that I had for him to sign. He signed it, with kind of a cool star shaped thing on it, and handed it back to me. I figured I had bothered the guy enough, thanked him, and ducked out.
I got back to my friends and they asked if it was really him. I showed them the signature, and we left soon thereafter. Not a single other person approahed that table, let alone Billy. He did a good job of being unassuming I guess.
The next day at Lollapalooza, I was hanging out near the side of one of the minor stages. There was a restricted area right next to me, part of which led to the massive “backstage” area behind everything. An asian guy came around the corner in the restricted area and kind of peered at the band playing. He was only a few feet from me, and I recognized him as James Iha, guitarist for Smashing Pumpkins. I asked him if he could also sign my hat, and he did so gladly. In my estimation, he was very stoned, but he was really nice, so I didn’t give a shit. He left soon after.
Later his father dug his way out and pressed charges. (Williams’ mother died on 9-11-01, but of natural causes.)
I once had a co-worker who did some sideline work as a contracter. He once did some work for Prince on a gate at his estate. Prince came out while this dude and his partner were working on the gate. He had a bodyguard (or something) with him. Prince wanted to ask them some questions and give them some directions but he refused to speak or respond directly to them. He would whisper to the bodyguard and the bodyguard would relay the message to them. Then they had to speak to the bodyguard who would relay it to Prince. They were both standing like two feet away. My co-worker said it was one of the weirdest experiences of his life. He said it was like an SNL sketch.
He did say that Prince paid them well and wasn’t exactly rude or hostile, just that he insisted on speaking to everyone through this other dude.
I wonder if he was just being weird, well I guess he’s always being weird, or just making sure that he never made statements to some random dude directly. Maybe it had legal implications in his mind, unfounded as they might be.
My friend’s impression (and this is somewhat backed up by rumors about Prince in general up here), was that he was just really, really shy.
I can see that.
I hear he’s really good at basketball too. Charlie Murphy said so. 
A member of the theater department at a college I worked at in Georgia took some of her students on a London theater trip, and one of the plays they attended was Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Brendan Fraser and Ned Beatty. The prof’s mother had dated Ned Beatty in high school, they had friends and cousins in common in Kentucky, and she hoped she’d be able to wrangle an autograph. When she and the students waited outside the backstage door Beatty appeared and gruffly pushed past them. When they asked for autographs he said “I’ve gotta be somewhere!” (not in a nice way) and when she said “My mother’s ____ and she knew you in high school” he responded “A lot of people knew me in high school! Leave me the hell alone!”
She was irritated and embarrassed. I think of this when I see him.
The happy ending: Brendan Fraser, who they assumed would be mobbed and too stuck up to speak, came out, signed autographs with them, practiced his Chinese with an Asian student who was on the trip (she went to school in Georgia), gave them advice on things to see in London, and actually apologized for having to leave them to go somewhere. Even though it was just for a couple of minutes they all came back from London wanting to have his babies- genuinely nice and super charming and “sexier in person than on screen”.
My dad had been a corporate pilot for decades should have had more anecdotes but he was one of those old fashioned gentleman types who wouldn’t say nuthin’ 'bout nobody, damn it.
However, I do have a minor Elvis story. My dad had been with various corporations and picked up ratings in a few different types of planes including the newer (in 1970s) Lear jet. He was with a company in Memphis that took a big hit when the oil embargo sent gas prices skyrocketing and gas shortages. This set this company back a bit so they ‘lent’ him out to other people on a freelance basis. Who goes and buys a Lear Jet? The King, of course. And who was instrument rated for Lear jets, living in Memphis and free to take gigs? My dad.
First flight out is early in the morning and bound for Vegas but Lear jets are really just high occupancy rockets and can be sorta scary the first time you ride in one. (I’ve ridden in them and even after decades of flying it made me queasy!) Well, it seems the King has been imbibing plenty of his favorite and this mode of travel did not, ah… ‘sit’ well with him. Somewhere over Kansas the King is on the floor of the cabin puking his guts out and screaming, “Land NOW!” They land and Elvis walks away from the jet never to see it again. I believe he gave it to the Colonel.
In these later years I’ve wished to god I had access to the catering logs for the concert tours he flew. That must have been some very interesting reading.
I saw a brief documentary recently that suggested that Man Ray was heavily involved in the Black Dahlia incident.
Which one played Maggie? 
I’ve never found Madonna all that attractive but I would be fine with that.