A Little Story About David Keith

Actually, regardless of the pedigree of myself and my friend (as mentioned in an introductory post below), sometimes you don't have to be children of celebrities to encounter celebrities (or those who think they are). Sometimes, like a pile of shit you step on accidently on a sidewalk, they are just right in front of you, waiting to dazzle you with their brilliance; date rape you; or treat you like crap.

This is a little tale of how some B/C-List actors think they are A-List - and act like complete assholes when given the opportunity...the opportunity given usually in the form of an unwitting fan or person who would like to express gratitude about a performance - and the asshole actor/actress in question is even more expressive of their tendency to be a prick due to the fact that they are drunk or high. In vino veritas, they say.

David Keith is one such asswipe.

Oh, how the wanna-be-mighty have fallen.

Keith started out 150 years ago doing stints on shows like Happy Days until he landed a part in The Great Santini in 1979. That got him a little exposure, which then opened the door for the role that we all know him for - Richard Gere's sidekick in An Officer and a Gentleman in 1982. He was actually very good in that role; that was probably the last time he ever did any really good acting work that was believable. I think we would all do well to remember him in the hot pic immediately above, or simply butt-naked, hanging in the shower at the end of that movie, because the motherfucker has not aged well at all, as seen by the first pic at the top of this post (too much Jack 'n coke, there, Davie!). He kept the disheveled 7 o'clock shadow from 1984's Firestarter and never went back.

The last work this guy has done have been some bomb made-for-tv movies on the Scifi Channel (my friends and I love that station but most of the movies suck) and a list of stints where he "played Himself." Gee...I wonder if that was hard for him to do.

David, we need you to play an asshole...can you handle this role? Oh RIGHT! You're playing yourself. No problem.

So...now we get to the "story" part of our story.

I was visiting my best friend in Memphis, TN - she was going to college in a nearby state and would drive up to Memphis to party on occasion (hell, we're both from NYC and were like WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE?). One weekend I went with her, crashing at her dorm for the weekend. We went to a club in the trendy part of Memphis at the time (we're talking about 1990/91 here) and it was a lot of fun. The evening had just kicked off, so were weren't drunk or wasted or particularly intoxicated on anything else...ahem...just more happy to get out and hang out with each other and her friends. She is a really friendly girl (she's in her 30's, like me, now, and I still think of her as a girl) with an even better eye for acting than I have. This is probably due to her family...like mine...but I digress...

So, we're in this club, and we're just being happy, and she suddenly points and says to me, "Hey - I think that's David Keith!" (She knows actors names and faces, even the not-so-famous) and I'm saying, "Who?" and I turn and look: there is this semi-attractive man who seems to think he's either Johnny Cash or Jim Morrison (right before he bit it); he's wearing all black with a black leather jacket (even though it was hot as hell in there) and cowboy boots. His belt is studded. His outfit is great, but looks awkward on him; like he's trying to play a role...but there are no cameras rolling. He's holding court among a group of friends, most of whom look as retarded as he does, and they are all pretty wasted.

I can tell she wants to go over and say something to him, but is biding her time. She and I have met many celebs in our time, throughout our childhood, and it's not a big deal unless it's someone that you're particularly fond of. After she points him out, I recognize him, slightly; his puffy face and 8 o'clock shadow not withstanding. I'm concerned because it looks like he's stuffed a cucumber down his pants. Like, it's ridiculous. I think of This Is Spinal Tap and I smirk.

"I'd like to go over and tell him what a great job he did in An Officer and A Gentleman," she says. This is something that she does whenever she sees an actor/actress whose work she has enjoyed. She doesn't run over like a happy puppy, slobbering all over them and shouting about how hot they are; she simply goes over and tells them how much she has enjoyed their work as an actor. What actor wouldn't want to hear that? The only time I ever saw her lose face was when she met Steve Martin, but that's another tale for another day.

"So go over." I tell her. So, she does.

My mistake; I found out later from the bartender that I was flirting with, that David Keith had been doing lines in the bathroom all night and he and his friends had been drinking WAY too much and being assholes to just about everybody in the club.

What I saw and then what happened both disgusted me and made me laugh; his reaction and her reaction, respectively.

She walked over and said, I found out when she came back (because I couldn't hear her over the music even though we were all watching), something very much like I thought she would say: "Mr. Keith, hi, I just wanted to tell you that I really enjoy your work. You're a great actor - your work in OaAG was fantastic."

He turned to her, with all of his court watching, and sneered at her: "Whatever. Get the fuck away from me."
He tried to swagger, but the gut pushed out a little too far over his belt and you could tell he was actually just swaying from too much booze and coke.

My friend looked a little hurt and shocked, but barely missed a beat.

"No wonder nobody's seen you in anything worth shit since that movie." She turned on her heel and his eyes opened wide on that remark - and then she turned back as she kept walking backwards, so I heard the next part of her tirade. "What was it like playing second fiddle to a 10-year-old girl in Firestarter? Nice to know even at that age she had more talent than you."

He yelled some curses at us, but then turned to his friends and ignored us. I was laughing my ass off and patted my friend's back, and gave her a high five.

She was right, of course. After we had a few drinks of our own we wanted to go kick his ass, but he'd left...off to do another bad movie or tv stint that nobody will ever see, no doubt.

Career Move: A Drag Queen?

I'm thinking about becoming a drag queen.

No, seriously...stay with me here. I like the "I am still a woman (kinda)" bit, so I could be a Drag Queen instead of King (my tits are really too big to try to hide anyway, and I'm not getting breast reduction surgery because I like my bodacious ta-tas) and I could cut my hair (it's shoulder-length, I'm not tied to it) and its dark brown. And then I could just wear a really great wig. If I worked it, I could almost, in my own mind, look like Julie Andrews.

Then, maybe...just maybe...I would land some better fucking roles than what I've been getting - because I've been scraping the bottom of the fucking barrel. What a fiasco. I could at least get a regular Drag gig and at the age of fifty be some tired Drag with my tits hanging down to my knees, but by that point I might be able to wrap them around my neck and pull the loose skin that will be hanging there, like a Perdue chicken, up tight - and save on face lifts. If anyone tries to give me shit, I can just say "You know what? If you want - I mean, if you really want, I can lift my dress and show you the schlong of the century, but I don't think you really want to go there - I know I don't!" and hopefully, that will keep them at bay and they will never know the horrible, horrible secret: that I have a cooter.

Who am I kidding. Maybe I can get a job as an extra on "Deal or No Deal?" or if not an extra - I'll be on the other show (is that lame fucking thing still running?) the one where they strut like 40 people up on the stage and you have to tell who or what they are by looking at them.

As if THAT wasn't just asking for some close-call-racist/elitist/sexist/homophobic/(fill in the horrific blank) classification and generalization possibilities you ever could conceive. Who was the moron who came up with that show?

Which one of these people lives in a trailer park? God forbid the contestant point to the guy wearing the CCR t-shirt chewing the tobbacco. (the answer? Pat Sajak, since Wheel of Fortune really isn't doing to well)

Which one of these people is an "exotic dancer" (and here there is a murmer and chuckle in the crowd as the host grins with that "what? I never had to pay for sex...this week" kind of look) Everyone's eyes travel to the chick in skintight jeans, lots of makeup, and the "come hither and boink me" stare. (Answer? The guy with the beer gut who saw one-too-many episodes of the Full Monty).

Which one of these people couldn't get a paying job as a serious actress, so she got stuck doing this? Everyone will immediately point to me, and I'll tell them to fuck off and storm off the set, and not get paid.

But if I do it in DRAG, at least it will be looking FABULOUS. Actually, it won't be in DRAG, but if I can make them think I'm in drag (I know a good makeup artist who can make it look like I have a bit of an adam's apple) and I am really tall...If I just act more feminine, like the transvestite at my job that everyone knows about but she thinks nobody knows (uh, I've never seen her without a turtleneck and she's an awfully manly looking chick) I think I could pull it off. She's more feminine than any girl I know...so I have to learn to be feminine. I have to learn grace. I have to learn how to walk like an angel...

Oh, fuck it.