A year after Heath Ledger's death...

I've found myself a bit reflective today as it is the one year anniversary of Heath Ledger's death. Obviously, I didn't know him personally. I haven't even seen many of his movies. But my impression of him was that he tried to be a good person, he absolutely loved his daughter and possessed a sincerity that can be hard to find in this world.

Part of why his death was so shocking, so profound for me is where I was when I heard about his passing. I was actually in the presence of several actors, agents and movie directors.

Before I share this story, please forgive if I seem unfair or unkind toward anyone. I want to give everyone the benefit of the doubt but understand there is behavior that is absolutely soul crushing and inexcusable. It is this kind of behavior that, for the first time, had me thanking God that I had never realized my over-the-top childhood dream of being a fabulous and famous movie star. It also made me sad for those who are surrounded by it on a constant basis....

Last year, for a few hours every week I was waitressing at a health food cafe. The job was just right for me. I love people. I'm kind of a granola when it comes to health food and I love waitressing. I met so many wonderful people there and grew to love my 'regulars'. One of these regulars approached me shortly before the Sundance Film Festival. A relative was in a movie and wanted to have a reception for the directors, actors, agents and so forth. They hired me to serve at the party. It was really an honor because it made me realize that I'm good enough at my job that people wanted me to represent them to their peers in their homes.

That day I was a little nervous due to the fact that I tend to be a klutz. (The story of me dropping a dessert tray and narrowly averting disaster for a table of diners is another story for another day). I drove up to Sundance where there was 2 feet of snow and light flurries were drifting all around. It was beautiful, just the right setting for such a reception.

The bartender and I received our assignments and set to work. By the time the guests arrived I realized something. I was invisible. Being a camera hog with a love for hamming it up, I have never before allowed myself to go unnoticed. Whether it was because I was the hired help or that I certainly didn't fit into the mold of the crowd, I can not know. But what I discovered was that in distributing punch, clearing plates, and offering sushi (that gratefully didn't end up on anyone's lap) I could go anywhere with my platter and no one would notice.

Don't get me wrong, no one was rude. I was obviously part of the scerery which meant I got a bird's eye view.

I noticed a gaggle of girls who couldn't have been over 20 years old. They arrived togther, with their 'talent agent' and looked as though they were cut from the same cookie cutter as the agent with some cut shorter than the others. They looked nervous and insecure while trying to put off an air of confidence.

As cliche as it is, I heard a lot of people calling each other 'Baby' and giving each other quick kisses on the cheeks. A few of the directors spent their time texting, chatting on their phones and networking with guests while holding thier martinis and olives.

At one point, the previously mentioned talent agent walked up to a middle aged friend of the host and told her, "You're absolutely beautiful (which was true). You could be in movies." She then went on to encourage her to continue further contact after the party so they could work together on the prospect. At first I thought, "Wow. That's really a compliment". But then it occurred to me. That women just expressed a real interest in working with someone who she had absolutely no prior knowledge of talent or acting ability just on account of her looks. That seemed a little sad to me. Is Hollywood generally that superficial? I really, really hope not.

The party was winding down and after the cookie cutter girls (sorry, is that mean?) had hob-knobbed with various directors and producers they were preparing to leave. As they turned to go, one of the directors called attention to the group, which inevitably drew the crowd's notice, pointed to one of the girls and said, something to the effect of, "You are going to make it". I can't imagine how that must have made her feel (Again, there was no demonstration of talent. Although, for all I know, she could have been a champion sword swallower or could've been able to stand on her head on a bed of nails while crocheting). But what about those other girls. The other ones that had probably spent thousands of dollars to present themselves the way they had. How could he not know, that as a director, his words hold a lot of stock to those dreaming of such a profession? Could there have been a more tactful way of giving a superficial compliment to the one without crushing the hopes of all the others? For some reason, I found the interaction disgusting.

During the course of the party, one of the patrons received a text that Heath Ledger had passed away. I remember looking up at the bartender. We were both horrified. Little other information was given and for the duration of the party, speculation swirled over what could have caused his death. The general consenus was that he'd overdosed and that drugs were bad; which seemed so hypocritical somehow. No one knew anything. Yet the verdict seemed to have already been decided.

By the end of the event, I regretted wearing the four inch high boots but was grateful for the experience. The host of the party and the actress involved in the planning were truly delightful people who were a pleasure to work with. The bartender and I both left feeling greatly appreciated and happy to have worked with them. As we talked, the conversation gravitated to Ledger's death, how tragic it was to lose a person who was so passionate about his work and family. I truly hoped his daughter would be alright and couldn't imagine the sadness her father's death must of meant to her and those who loved him.

The experiences of that day gave a new perspective. As I drove home and met He-Man, I couldn't help but be so grateful for him; his sincerity, his goodness, his rugged handsomeness that ensures he'd be the star of all my features. I was grateful for my sweet kids, my simple, beautiful life...and all my imperfections that make me obviously not movie-star material.