Ms Grazer
I realize this is out of the loop, but I would like to begin to write for TV. I am used to rejection, you see, I am a dentist. Well, I was a dentist, who quit his job today because he didn't want to do it anymore, in the worst economic environment in our generation. I could pick it up again, the dentist thing, its not like I am a slob at it. Lets see, I was voted "Best Dentist" in my area of Dallas in 3 publications for 8 consecutive years, so I am good at what I do more than a couple dozen times.
Its just that what I really want to do is write. I have led an interesting life. If you could point me in the right direction, I am sure I could make a mark as this midlife crisis sets in.
I will skip most of the banal stuff, you know, graduated #1 in my class, never missed a day in school, father died when I was 13, mother went into a depression when I was 13, mother remarried when I was 17. To a multi millionaire. I went to UT Austin and then UT Dental School in San Antonio. Shortly after graduating, I stage managed my step father's funeral for a seated guest list of about 1200, then I went to work making peoples smiles better for the next 24 years.
During that interim, I sat on city, state and national civil rights boards, went to too many rubber chicken galas to count, met and raised countless money for progressive politicians (that would RE:Democrat), briefly flirted with going into the fashion world during my early 30s.
I used to be a front row "guest" at the Men's shows in Florence, Milan, Paris and NYC for years, and interviewed with Calvin (Klein) and Donna (Karan) to work with their men's lines. I didn't interview with subordinates, I talked directly to the designers.
One of the more interesting times I had was when I was in Paris and having high tea with Karl (Lagerfield) at Coco's atelier, where he resides when he is in residence in the city. Mr Lagerfield and I had a lovely talk about the direction and longevity of fashion, its meaning to the way we see art and commerce and communication. I had to demur and leave that conversation to hop over to my suite at the Mercer to change clothes for JeanPaul's show that nite. Mr Gaultier's shows are a work of art, not to be missed. A mix of rock concert back stage passion, vulgarity, youthful extravagance, brilliance and throngs of admirer's who could never wear any of his clothes hanging from the old deserted and converted theatre his handlers had converted for the show. When I got back to my suite, exhausted, but amused, I found a lovely black suit bag on my bed with a huge KL in gold on it. Inside was a 100% cashmere navy blazer with huge KL gold buttons in exactly my size and the sweetest thank you note. I still have the coat and wear it with fond memories.
I could go on, but its so silly at some point. I moved my Mother to a convelescent center near me so I could monitor her demise into dementia and alzheimers, which is very near its end. I picked out her dressing gown already (for what its worth, its pale violet Valentino Couture with a Helmet Lang dove grey blouse and an Hermes scarf. I already have her jewelry pulled from the bank vaults and shined. Two days ago, I picked out her powder blue steel heavily draped coffin and if I can wrestle the stupid florist to the ground to get me the dozens and dozens of Casablanca lillies I want, this part of my life will, to put a fine point to it, be laid to rest).
So, Ms Grazer, I would love to talk to you at the Ivy on Robertson and figure out where my next move is. I will gladly pick up the tab for our lunch. BTW, I eat inside, not outside near the riff raff, and I imagine the lobster salad will be divine this time of year.
You have my email from this post, but just so you can make sure, its AMDDS2004@aol.com.
Warm Regards.
PS. The Starter Wife has been TiVo's into eternity on my HD TV. You have assembled a brilliant cast, amazing writers, the art direction is superb and the USANetwork has a hit on its hands, trust me.