Our New Column: Grandma's Celebrity Gossip

Grandma, who goes by her single name, has contributed to a friend's publication for many years.  She has a distinct voice and an interest in celebrities, whom she sees often in her native California.  She has agreed to share her thoughts on occasion with the Idiosyncratist.  Below is her most recent report.

Grandma

About the Oscars, I’ll say this: Most of those people I never heard of. What happened to the real movie stars like Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Bette Davis? Dead, all of them. They’re either dead or, like Kim Novak, they have a face that looks like a giant kreplach. Enough already with the plastic surgery. And Ellen DeGeneres had some nerve telling Liza Minnelli she looked like a man. This coming from a woman dressed like Mr. Peanut. 

Jay Leno was dumped from the “Tonight Show,” and like a baby he cried. His replacement, a pisher named Jimmy Fallon, laughs at his own jokes. Who does he think he is -- Red Skelton? The NBC mavins said only old people watched Jay Leno. I disagree. I’m 60-plus, and I never watch it. Who can stay up that late?

Last month, Kara, my niece Beverly’s daughter, got married to a nice Jewish boy. The reception was at the Riviera Country Club, (such a lovely spread), but the ceremony was at the Malibu Beach. Some ceremony. Not only did our shoes get full of sand, but here wasn’t a rabbi in sight. The justice of the peace was cable talk show host Conan O’Brien. Who knew? Maybe he needs the extra money. Beverly told me all the celebrities are doing it now. What they do is fill out a form, send $16 to a P.O. box in Colorado, and just like that, they’re a Justice of the Peace. Stars like Barbra Streisand, Goldie Hawn, Joan Rivers, and Jeff Probst have also signed up. “Beverly,” I said, “they’re a Jewish couple. With all those celebrity Jews available, they couldn’t do better than a shaygets like Conan O’Brien?”

The other night I was in a fancy-shmancy restaurant, and who’s sitting at the next table, but Jack Nicholson and Anjelica Huston. Twenty-five years ago they broke up. She married the zhlubby sculptor, and he ran after the B-movie actress. From what I could hear, all he did was gridzheh, begging Anjelica to move back in to take care of him in his Golden Years. In not so many words, to him she said: “You should live so long.” 

And I’ve said enough already.