As you know, I now live in Los Angeles for good reason.
So being the idiot I am, I tempted fate and walked to where Dorothy Parker once lived.
Just as I once innocently walked to her grave (and oh boy, what I mess that caused).
Parker lived at 8983 Norma Place with her husband—writer, stage actor, and screenwriter—Alan Campbell, from 1957 to 1963.
8983 Norma Place, West Hollywood, CA
Norma Place is in the West Hollywood neighborhood of Norma Triangle, named after silent film star, Norma Talmadge. (For the first time ever! A sentence with three Norma’s in it!)
Parker and Campbell, who divorced in 1947 then remarried in 1950, were not a happy couple while living here.
Parker barely made a living writing book reviews for Esquire magazine. Although she did try teaching for a year at California State College, she didn’t like anything about it, especially the students.
(I get that. I was the worst professor ever for one semester at Emerson College in Boston.)
Norma Talmadge
I took a photo. Then being curious, I walked along Norma Place, looking at mailboxes and door buzzers to see if a Lajos Antal or Allan Jatos might live nearby.
Me hanging out at Parker’s. Just missed her by 59 years.
Nope, nothing. No deaths afoot this time. Well, except that Alan Campbell killed himself here
59-year-old Campbell spent the day of June 14, 1963, drinking Bloody Mary’s. (I sorta get that too.) When Parker came home, Campbell was in bed along with capsules of Seconal and a plastic bag over his neck and shoulders. The coroner went with “suicide due to acute barbiturate poisoning.” Parker insisted it was an accident. (Hey, she wrote both fiction and nonfiction. She should have had a blog.)
According to Lillian Hellman, when a neighbor came over to ask the grieving widow if she needed anything, Parker said, “A new husband.”
The neighbor was shocked and angry and said so to Parker.
“Okay,” Parker said, “Then run down to the corner and get me a ham and cheese on rye. And tell them to hold the mayo.”
By the way, I know a guy. (I love that phrase. Perfect for my next stupid blog concept. Every posting will include the phrase, “I know a guy.”)
Anyway, I know a guy. His daughter now lives at this house. She moved in, having no idea that it was once Parker’s home and that her husband killed himself there. Her father soon figured out the house’s history.
On every gift-giving occasion, the guy gives his daughter a Parker book, some first editions, some autographed. The house now has quite the Parker library. Very cool.
So the next home Sally and I have, I’m going to make something up about the place. Like Lajos Antal lived there when he decided to change his name to Allan Jatos. And people will load me up with special editions of his work. Cool!
I gotta end this with Parker quips. Some oldies, and at the end, a new favorite.
“If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.”
“You can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think.”
“Tell him I was too fucking busy — or vice versa.”
“Brevity is the soul of lingerie.”
“I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I'm under the table,
after four I'm under my host.”
“Get me a new husband.”
Oh, and if you’ve made it this far, dear reader, so have Sally and I. Today is our 41st anniversary. xoxoxox
June 6, many years ago. Luckiest guy in the world standing there.