Yay! I Finished Another Book - "My Happy Days in Hollywood" by Garry Marshall

Okay, those of you who are regular readers to this blog, you will know that I, myself, am not a regular reader.  About a year and a half ago, I challenged myself to read more with the goal of reporting it here.  I go through reading spurts, most tied to those times when I am on a plane a lot.

Now that you're completely updated on the annoying exposition and backstory, I will follow up by telling you that I tend to read nothing but non-fiction.  Some history, usually about the Presidents of the last century  Some sports, primarily retrospectives on baseball.

And, of course, I do love the occasional celebrity biography.  If it's a memoir written by the star themself, even better.

A few months ago, I read and subsequently trashed the autobiography of James Garner.  After 300 unctuous pages of self-adminstered-back-slapping, I totally hated the author.  He was self-congratulatory to a fault.  And, with his non-negotiable stance on politics and the world around us, I found Garner even more annoying.  Who gives a shit what he, merely a serviceable actor, thinks about anything more important than what Malibu restaurant he should have dinner at?

Totally the wrong way to do one of these memoirs.  Now, Garry Marshall?  He's got the right idea.  And, as a result, his latest tome, "My Happy Days in Hollywood," is a big winner.

None of these Hollywood tell-alls will take up much of your time.  Most can be knocked off in a single LAX-JFK flight on American Airlines, as long as there isn't a small child kicking your seat.   Based on sheer substance, all these books read as quickly as a greeting card.   You know how they work.

"And then I...."

"And then I..."

"And then I..."

The trick to success with that format is the way you, as the celebrity author, approaches it.  If you take your accomplishments too seriously, you'll lose some readers, including me.  But, as the always humbled Garry Marshall does in his book, he seems to be constantly in awe of his own career.  And, as a result, the journey through his life is a refreshing and gentle one for the reader.

I've always been a fan of the guy.  He's got a lifetime pass with me for simply producing "The Odd Couple," which is one of the best TV sitcoms of all time.  But, he's done a host of other stuff for both the small and big screens.  Some of it good.  Some of it lousy.  But, as Garry relates the story behind each and every one of those productions, his kind and friendly demeanor comes shining through each page.  And you can practically hear the Bronx accent with every written word.

If you're looking for nastiness about people he has worked with, forget it.  Garry doesn't tell tales out of school.  Except, of course, in the chapter where he has to address the very unfortunate production squabbles that revolved around his big TV hit, "Laverne and Shirley."  To do that accurately, he has to shine a pretty big glaring light on his own sister, Penny, who was completely and hopelessly out of control during those years.   He does apologize to her in advance, but he honestly relates just how bad the times were on that very troubled soundstage.  Props to the author for being that compliant.  And kudos to Penny for allowing him to do so.

The best compliment for Marshall's book is that it all feels very breezy as if you're simply talking to the guy on a backyard patio over a nice, cool glass of lemonade.  Ultimately, he's somebody you feel you want to be friends with.  And, after 275 pages, you essentially are.

Since Garry mentions pretty much everything that happened to him over the course of his sixty-year career, I should be a little pissed that he left something out.

I was introduced to him in a bathroom at Warner Brothers while he was filming an episode of "Murphy Brown."  Obviously, folks like Jane Fonda, Julia Roberts, and Tom Hanks have made lasting impressions on him while I did apparently did not.  Or maybe our meeting didn't make the final draft of the book.  I envision the excerpt as something like...

"So, I'm standing in front of the urinal doing my thing and I am asked to say hello to this guy Len.  Who he is, I don't know.  But he looked like a nice guy and I stuck around long enough to make sure he washed up before I shook his hand."

Or something like that.

Dinner last night:  Leftover tortellini and salad.