.Gary Dretzka
.Leonard Klady.
.David Poland
.Ray Pride

November 23, 2003

Have y’all heard the tale of The Hollywood Thanksgiving? There are a lot of legends around this holiday. There is the one about the Japanese, the Germans and the French sailing to Hollywood on The Software, The Hardware and The Lacy Underwear and being sold a bunch of turkeys by the Native Jewish Americans. There is the one about Jack Valenti trying to convince Benjamin Franklin to back the turkey as the national bird then claiming that it was really all Franklin’s idea. There is the one about Timeline carving up Sherry Lansing’s job at Paramount.

My favorite Tale of The Hollywood Thanksgiving is the one my dear late daddy used to tell me and my sister Cornelia every year when we were little girls. He would turn on the fireplace and make some cocoa and we would watch the ocean crash onto the beach as he quietly told the tale.

A long time ago, in a company town far, far away, Master Richard Dover wrote a great screenplay called “Break Your Heart.” He gave a copy to his friend Gina who worked as a massage therapist. One day, just after providing a happy ending to a vigorous massage, Gina took off her rubber gloves and handed the screenplay to Hollywood’s most powerful producer.

The Producer liked the screenplay almost as much as he liked Tina or whatever her name was. He summoned Richard to his high story office. He told Richard that the screenplay needed a lot of work. It did not. He explained to Richard that no one else would even read the screenplay. He liked to help newcomers. He offered Richard one hundred dollars, a sack of Quaaludes and a nudie picture of Miss Betty White.

Richard was inexperienced. But he was not dumb. He told the producer no.

The producer was right. No one else would even look at the screenplay. Odd things started happening. One day Richard’s tires were slashed. He heard funny clicking on is phone calls. A week later there was a Slurpee on his hood and a note that said, “Toothpaste. Tuna Fish. Milk. English Muphins. Mustard. Toilet Paper. Juicyfruit. Chicken Breastes.”

Richard did not know what it meant. Soon he lost his job at Starbucks for insisting on using the Italian pronunciation for the company’s brainwashing coffee code and moved back to Wisconsin.

Two years later, a movie called “Heartbreak Becomes You” arrived in Wisconsin theaters. The movie had big stars and a big budget. Richard had stopped going to the movies. He was too embarrassed to talk about his time in Los Angeles. A girl he was dating wanted to go. So he went.

Through most of the movie he mouthed the words along with the actors. After all, he wrote the screenplay.

When he got home he dug into a box of Hollywood memories. He found the Producer’s card. In the morning he called him. Yes. The screenplay was very much like Richard’s screenplay. He would send Richard the cash, the Quaaludes and the picture of Sandy Dennis right away.

This was not okay with Richard. He wanted to go back to Los Angeles. He wanted to get back into the movie business. The Producer agreed to make a deal.

The next morning, Richard got a call from a man who identified himself as a lawyer from the Producer’s company. He asked a lot of questions. Richard gave him a lot of answers.

A week later, Mr. Pelican called again. He made an offer to Richard. If Richard would promise never to tell anyone that his screenplay was stolen, Mr. Pelican would not send out copies of a super-8 movie of Richard’s mom, Mrs. Dover, having sex with the milkman.

Richard decided that his mother’s honor was more important than fame and fortune or whatever a screenwriter gets in Hollywood. But he needed to say one last thing to the Producer. He called and the Producer took his call. How could the Producer do this to him without even saying thanks? And so, the Producer said, “Thanks. Thanks for giving me your script. I hear that I can buy an entire town in Wisconsin for the money I’ve made.”

Richard felt a little better. He asked whether the Producer had seen their mutual friend Gina lately. Coincidentally, Gina was there through the entire call. The Producer told her hi from Richard. Gina mumbled something back, as her mouth was full. The Producer, a kind man by Hollywood standards, sent Richard the $100, a prescription for medical grade cocaine and a photo of Elizabeth Taylor having a three-way with Franco Nero and Efram Zimbalist, Jr.

On the fourth Thursday of November, the Producer told the story of Thanksgiving to his wife, his first ex-wife, his second ex-wife, her new husband, her new husband’s ex-wife and the seven assorted children as he carved the turkey. He explained about the nasty boats, just like in The Godfather. He explained how his ancestors came west, just like Dustin Hoffman in Little Big Man. He explained how the Indians decided to give up the west and explained how lucky the Indians were to have casinos and to not need expensive accountants and attorneys to avoid paying taxes. His second ex-wife shed a tear. The housekeeper started her own tradition and urinated in the margaritas.

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