![]() I wanted to say, “Well, are you sending me money?” But I was a 24-year-old actor so I said sorry. “We need you not to say things like that.” “You can’t say things like that,” said the marketing department. I sat there, under my enormous face, waiting for the car to cool down, thinking: “Surely this will work out?” When I arrived home that day I did an interview that I’d surreptitiously arranged with my hometown paper, the Philadelphia Inquirer, and shared this story, laughing: “I’m like the poorest new famous person in America!”Īs soon as it ran, I got a call. Who gets to do that? On a brutally hot July day, the 1984 Toyota Celica I bought with my temping pay when I moved to LA overheated (again), only this time it happened under a billboard with my face on it. I watched a significant time in my life unfurl without me. ![]() The first line of my obituary.īeing dead and alive at the same time has its advantages. The folks at the now-defunct Artisan Pictures bought an odd little midnight offering at Sundance that year called The Blair Witch Project, about three film students who go into the woods to make a documentary about said witch and are never heard from again. ![]() It was the marketing department that killed me. It said I was dead on IMDB, a site that was new when I first died in 1999 – a time when people still believed everything on the internet was true. It’s a complicated thing to be dead when you’re still very much alive and eager to make a name for yourself. M y obituary was published when I was 24. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |