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best left forgotten. He was going to revel in all of the gory details at my expense, and yet, callme a masochist, I was going to let him. In fact, I was getting inexorably drawn to the notion.
    Times have certainly changed. Being a producer was never a bargain, but obsolescence was never expected. Had the producer turned into an emu?
    The food finally arrived.
    â€˜Before we take this too far down the road, would you mind telling me what
bog stuffing
means?’
    â€˜
Snorkeling
, baby, bog
snorkeling
.’ He then flicked his tongue in two quick, semicircular moves. No doubt about it, he was a beaut.
    â€˜Oh, dear lord’ was all that I could whisper.
    â€˜What’s the difference, what it means? You might not realize this now, kid, but this could be your lucky day.’
    â€˜I sorta felt that way the moment I saw you, Jerry.’
    â€˜Use me right and I can help you.’
    â€˜How so?’
    â€˜Suffice it to say, the end of the road for me could be a glimmer of hope for you … although, knowing you, I’m not so certain of that.’
    â€˜Last I checked, I was doin’ just fine.’
    â€˜Look at your eyes; they’ve lost their confidence.’
    â€˜What exactly are we trying to get at here, Jerry?’
    â€˜I’m trying to get you to look at the last few years, really look, and maybe, just maybe, it will give you the grace to continue.’
    He was turning into Mr. Rogers, and I was becoming Sally Field.
    â€˜You care. You really care,’ I said without a shred of enthusiasm.
    â€˜I do care,’ he said, his eyes almost moistening with concern.
    â€˜I get it … I get it. This isn’t about me. You just want to hear the grim details. You’re lonely and my failures comfort you. What to give a studio head has-been for Christmas? I know! Fill his stocking with the bitter memories of a producer tailspinning out of control. That’ll keep him till Easter.’
    â€˜Actually, I can’t deny a certain delicious pleasure from all of this. By the way, did you hear about the movie producer who gotrobbed and beaten on his front lawn by the Crips after he was followed home from Mr. Chow’s?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜That’s a good one.’ He cackled with glee.
    â€˜Jerry, your heart is bigger than a bread box.’
    Everyone, of course, knew about this incident, but only the most twisted were taking delight. I guess it just didn’t get weird enough for Jerry. A few years back, he was devouring producers, writers, agents, like chum. Now, his only sustenance was to sit on the sideline and watch them burn. Most people preferred sports.
    â€˜I want to hear it all … slowly, please.’ He was begging now.
    â€˜What’s in it for me, again?’
    â€˜Let me count the ways: Hollywood salvation, a good throat-clearing, the will to go forward. Take your pick. I’m certain you will find it purging. It seems like a good bargain to me.’
    He said this without his usual self-satisfied smirk. He was suddenly glowing with generosity and concern. Was he really interested? Not ole Jer. He used to be president of the Hollywood Venality Club. Could it be that the old warhorse wanted to shine a little light on those left behind?
    â€˜Jerry, let me get this straight. I get to delight you with all of the shit I’ve taken over the last few years, and your commiseration is going to make me feel good.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜You are one sick fuck.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Think colonoscopy. Believe you me, it’s preventative. And besides, who else but me wants to hear it?’
    He was vibrating now. The hook was in the water. He was having a terrific day.
    â€˜Just know, Jerry, if I were busy, I’d be gone.’
    â€˜I’m sure you would, but you’re not and I’m not. I want to hear it all. What was that first picture you did at Fox?
Great Expectations
! Let’s go