Me Me Me

Today I opened up my box of author’s copies of HIDDEN IN SMOKE….and share some news about what I’m writing now…and what’s coming up.

I’m very sad to hear about Joseph Wambaugh‘s passing.

Like my brother Tod Goldberg, who has posted a Facebook remembrance of Joe, I don’t remember how I first met him, only that he was a friend of our family for years. It was probably through my Mom, and maybe at the Santa Barbara Writer’s Conference. But I have all of his books signed, and several photos with him over the years.

The last time we actually saw each other face-to-face (but not the last time we talked) was at the 2012 Los Angeles Times Festival of Books…he’d asked me to interview him on stage to promote his latest HOLLYWOOD STATION novel. I was delighted to do it. I read up on his old interviews, watched on YouTube his old appearances on Johnny Carson and Tom Snyder, and figured I’d just ask him the questions I knew he already had great answers for…and a few fresh questions of my own.

We had lunch together beforehand, and it was all great….but just before we were supposed to go on stage, he pulled me aside and said…”I can’t do it. We have to cancel the interview.” I thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. He was having a panic attack. I told him you’ve been on Johnny Carson, Merv Griffin, this is nothing. I’m going to ask you softball questions you’ve been asked before, nothing you can’t answer. But he shook his head. I can’t do it. I’ve lost it. I’m terrible. I said you’ll be fine, if you don’t have the anecdote, I’ll give you a gentle reminder. You’ll kill, trust me.

And he did. He was wonderful, totally at ease, funny, insightful, his usual. But as we got off stage, he was shaking…and he said, “that’s it, I’m done. I won’t appear on stage ever again.”

To my knowledge, he never did.

But we stayed in touch. He blurbed a book of mine (KING CITY), he blurbed a book for Brash (Jack Bunker’s TRUE GRIFT…and there’s a great story behind that, too, but I will let Jack share it), and he congratulated me on LOST HILLS, which he thought was a great crime novel. I resisted the urge to ask him if I could use it as a blurb 🙂

He told me the secret to his cop novels was taking fellow cops to Ruth’s Chris, buying them a steak and some drinks, and letting them talk…and then just listening to what they had to say. Not so much to the specific stories, but the way they *told* their stories, what were the key details that matter to them, the observations they made, the language they used, how they held their bodies as they spoke… it never failed to inspire him.

And his work never failed to inspire me.

He will be missed.

I was saddened to hear about Gene Hackman’s passing. I had a brief encounter with him after he retired and had become an author.

He was a guest at the International Mystery Writer’s Festival at the RiverPark Center in Owensboro, KY, which was run at the time by Zev Buffman, a well-known Broadway producer.

When I arrived, I was brought on stage, given the key to the city, a gavel making me an honorary judge advocate, and then the Governor (or was it the Secretary of State?) honored me as a Kentucky Colonel, telling me I was joining a long list of people including Pope John Paul, Elvis Presley, Florence Henderson, Teddy Rosevelt, Harlan Sanders, etc. I joked that he was making a terrible mistake, he had the wrong person, etc. There was a lot of laughs and that was that.

I was staying at the Comfort Inn, off the freeway, along with some of the other authors, but also truck drivers, traveling families, etc. It’s place people usually stay on their way to somewhere else.

So, the next moring, I went down for breakfast, and it was mobbed with people…families, screaming kids, etc. I sat down with the late Bob Levinson to eat my bagel and Gene Hackman comes in. At first, nobody noticed him. The last person you expect to see at a Comfort Inn in Owensboro is somebody famous, certainly not an Oscar winning actor.

Hackman went through the motions of gathering his breakfast, and one by one, people recognized him… they were startled. They’d did spit-takes, or jumped back, or shrieked, and on each occasion, he smiled politely and took their shock in stride. It impressed me. It was also hilarious. Bob and I could have spent all day watching people react to Gene Hackman.

Later that day, Hackman was also brought up on stage, and given the key to the city and the gavel, and then the Governor made him a Kentucky Colonel, repeating the bit that Hackman was joining such luminaries as bla bla bla bla and, of course, the Governor looked at me now with a glint in his eye, Lee Goldberg.

Later, I approached Hackman and asked if I could have my picture taken with him, and he said of course…we also exchanged signed books.

I asked him what he was doing in Owensboro, and he said that Zev had given him one of his first jobs on Broadway, so if Zev calls, he shows up. I mentioned how impressed I was by his reaction at breakfast to being recognized and he said was used to it, but it had also surprised him, because off-camera, he looks like such an “everyman,” that he can often get away unnoticed.

I think that may have been one of his great gifts as an actor. He didn’t look like a movie star. He looked like a regular guy … but I think, when he wanted to, he could also *be* one.