For Carole Lombard and Clark Gable, it's just another day in Hollywood heaven, where the commissary suspiciously resembles the old Vine Street Brown Derby, and where we find them enjoying lunch. (Whether or not you choose to consider the following "fake news" is up to you.)
(Carole pulls out a smartphone as Clark looks on.)
Carole: Just got this model -- an 11G. Apple and Samsung, eat your heart out!
(She turns it on, looks at the screen and begins to laugh.)
Clark: What's going on?
Carole: It's something I suppose I really shouldn't laugh about, but...well...
(She shows Clark the image on the phone. He looks at it and is confused.)
Clark: So? What's funny about that?
Carole: You're right -- vandalism in itself is never funny -- but it's from the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Clark: Yep. They began enshrining people the year I left.
Carole: Well, I received this from our mutual friend Myrna.
Carole: It pictures the Donald Trump star on the Walk of Fame -- or, should I say, what's left of it. In the middle of the night, someone came over to it, took a pick ax out of a guitar case, and went at it. And you know how ol' Democrat Myrna feels about the Trumpster. Probably saw enough of him during her final years in New York.
Clark: Explains the smiley emoji at the bottom of her tweet. You know what this means for her -- and maybe for you, too?
Carole: Yeah, Pappy, a day in purgatory, though I might escape punishment since I'm not an accomplice. But hey, you know I'm no Trump fan either -- and it has next to nothing to do with his politics. It's another "p" word.
Clark: You mean, those tapes?
(Lombard begins laughing loudly, a la Greta Garbo in the restaurant scene of "Ninotchka." Other patrons and a waiter give her stern looks, but Ernst Lubitsch at a nearby table gives Carole a sly smile.)
Carole: Nooooo, not that -- I was referring to personality! Trump's an egotistical boor, the very type of person I can't stand. All he cares about is his name, his brand. He wishes he was William Randolph Hearst -- who wanted to be president -- or Charles Foster Kane, one of the two. He's not either, in his dreams!
Clark: Certainly not Hearst, as we know from our trips to San Simeon.
Carole: Compare that to Trump Tower! Hearst was a bit eccentric, but nice, at least to us. And the Donald's not Kane either, though you wouldn't know since you fell asleep during the showing of the film Orson gave us! None of Trump's three wives can hold a candle to his mistress, Marion Davies.
Clark: What a terrific woman.
Carole: Indeed -- so unassuming, so generous. Could you imagine her wearing a jacket saying she didn't care? Had it not been for Marion's aid in 1937 when W.R.'s empire was tottering, his corporation of cable channels and magazines wouldn't exist today. She loved that man, though she couldn't marry him. What his sons did to Marion after he died was simply wrong.
Clark: Just as wrong as defacing a star on the Walk of Fame.
Carole: Yeah, tell me about it. A few years ago, I thought my star was going to be caught in the crossfire when Bill Cosby -- his star's adjacent to mine -- was involved in all that sexual harassment crap for which he was recently convicted.
Clark: They could simply remove his star for such behavior.
(Lombard shakes her head.)
Carole: It's never been done. Do you remember a guy on LA TV named Spade Cooley? Led a western swing band.
Carole: Spade was a big star -- heck, Frank Sinatra appeared on his local show in the early '50s, when his career was struggling.
Clark: OK, a confession. After his show left the air, I assisted Spade in a plan of his in the late '50s to build a water-skiing resort with a man-made lake. Never came to pass.
Carole: In April of '61, Spade was arrested, then later convicted of first-degree murder for killing his second wife. I'm not sure if his star had already been installed by the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, but no matter -- it's still there today. As loathsome as Cosby and Trump may be, neither has killed anyone.
Learn more about the Walk of Fame stars with ties to Carole at https://carole-and-co.livejournal.com/704645.html.