Carole & Co.

Today marks the 11th anniversary of the founding of Carole & Co., with this the 3,519th entry -- close to one per day. (For many years, I indeed had more than one entry daily, but homelessness and other personal problems forced me to cut back. Since April, I've resumed my one-a-day habit.)

It's hard to describe precisely what this site means to me, but perhaps the above heart-shaped pic of a late 1920s Carole is appropriate. Love has been the dominant theme of this site from day one; in the mid-1980s, I fell in love with Lombard as an actress and, after reading much about her, even more so as a person. That her death preceded my birth by more than 13 1/2 years is unimportant; she continues to inspire actors, writers and others in the entertainment industry.



It should be noted that Lombard is far from the only Golden Age personality to be lionized long after death. Many of you feel that way about Myrna Loy, or Barbara Stanwyck, or Jean Harlow (yes, Darrell Rooney, I'm referring to you), or Joan Blondell, along with male stars such as William Powell, Clark Gable and many others. That's fine. There's plenty of adulation to go around.



Four decades ago, I had absolutely zero interest in moving to Los Angeles, not with the smog, the freeways, the laid-back lifestyle and such. I was instead a proud easterner, and thought I'd always stay that way.

The 1984 Summer Olympics softened my resistance to the city, and a few years later Lombard did the rest. In June 1989 I made my first visit to LA, as it was beginning its transition from 1960s car-dominated sprawl into a multi-faceted metropolis. Both downtown and Hollywood struggled a bit at the time, but one could see better days were on the horizon (indeed, downtown LA now has a population of 70,000, triple its size of 1999). I now eagerly sought to be a part of the city, though the upheavals of the 1990s -- both from man (rioting, the O.J. Simpson trial) and nature (the Northridge earthquake -- not to mention wanting to be near my aging mother, made me hold off for a while.

Finally in 2014, a few months after her passing, I made the move, perhaps guided by Carole's siren call. Save for a three-week stretch in Jacksonville, Fla., I've been here ever since, largely loving it despite some setbacks. LA's now my home.



When Carole & Co. turned 10 last June, I was still in a Skid Row shelter, with not much to my name. The following month, I was accepted into transitional housing in South LA, a quiet house where I continue to reside. Social Security benefits and a senior TAP card -- two advantages of turning 62 -- also have made life considerably easier, though I'd love to find sustained employment (it isn't easy at my age).



Screenwriting, my new hobby to complement film history research, perhaps may soon bear fruit. I've frequently written about "Stand Tall!" and its recent Best Character In A Screenplay award at the Die Laughing Film Festival (yesterday, I learned it's now a selection of the Page Turner Screenplay GENRE Competition), but I'm technically no longer a one-trick pony.

I've completed the first draft of my second screenplay, the thriller/romcom "Fugitive Sweetheart," some 106 pages. It needs lots of work, but so did "Stand Tall!" in its first incarnation. Over the next few months, I hope to hone "Fugitive Sweetheart" into a funny, marketable story with plenty of heart. (And unlike "Stand Tall!", special effects will be minimal.)



To Carole Lombard, I love you, and always will.

To readers of Carole & Co., I love you as well. (Over the past week, my more than 1,150 Facebook friends -- including quite a few in the entertainment industry -- no longer receive Networked Blogs; I'll look to post them on my own.)

Again, thanks.