Penny Marshall. First woman director whose films made more than $100 mil, who starred on TV’s sitcom “Laverne & Shirley,” who’s sister to Garry Marshall, director of biggies like “Pretty Woman,” who’s Rob Reiner’s ex-wife, who survived big-time illness, who’s written “My Mother Was Nuts,” the expected memoir, sat in a low lit room in dark glasses, and said:
“I’m still on LA time. This hides the rings under my eyes. From here I go to Milwaukee. Can you believe this stupid book tour? Beverly Hills on Rosh Hashanah and Jersey on Yom Kippur.
“I wrote this book so everyone who thought I’d die will know I’m still alive. Rags keep printing I’m dying, so I thought I’d write that I’m not. I got sick in 2009 for a minute. I’d smoked. So I had a little chemo, a little radiation, and I’m clear now.
“Writing this took a year. See, with a computer and a script I live in my bed. There’s not even room for anyone to climb on it to get laid.
“In seventh grade my sister gave me a diary so, although I can’t even remember what I did this morning, I’ve written down and remember everything I did in the old days. My brother read it, my daughter read it, my sister read it, my niece read it. Nobody suggested I change a thing.”
The usual celebrity bones attended her party. Stuff them, and they’ll still make every event in Year 2015. As I left, she autographed my book with: “Be nice.”
IRAN’s Ayatollah Khomeini urged followers to boycott all that originates with Jews.
Thus, heart patients must refuse Digitalis discovered by a Jew Ludwig Traube. Toothache? Avoid novocaine discovered by Jews Widal and Weil. Diabetes? Minkowski, Jewish, researched insulin. Sexual disease? Jews Wasserman and Dr. Ehrlich perfected its healing methods. Anti paralysis vaccine? The work of Nobel winner Jonas Salk. Jewish. Convulsions? Oscar Liebreich, Jewish, proposed chloral hydrate. If needing psychoanalysis, forget Freud. Jewish.
The Jewish faith’s Zalman Waxman invented tuberculosis’ wonder drug Streptomycin. Diphtheria’s prevention came from the Jew Béla Schick. Nobelist Robert Baram, Jewish, labored to counteract brain damage. If suffering skin problems ignore all benefits from the Jewish dermatologist Judas Sehn Benedict. The lung specialist was Frawnkel. Jewish.
Lots of luck with your boycott.
OVER French toast and croissants, Ray Kelly announced plans to videotape suspected felon interrogations. Chief Judge Jonathan Lippman, DA’s Cy Vance, Queens’ Richard Brown, Westchester’s Janet DiFiore, Staten Island’s Dan Donovan, Civil Liberties Union and the Innocence Project, who defend the wrongly convicted, applauded.
WHERE They are, what They’re doing:
Christian Cooke, of Starz gangster series “Magic City,” celebrated his birthday at South Beach’s Soho House with Danny “The Butcher” Huston, who plays a mob boss and really dates Olga Kurylenko, who plays the show’s archenemy’s wife. It was all female admirers. Not a dead body in sight.
Lindsay L-oy-han. Plus two females. Saturday, 7p.m. White top. Skyhigh heels, which may be why she wobbled, tripping over another human entering Central Park for a DJ’s non-Philharmonic Swedish House Mafia party. Behind her, eyeing her, NY Ranger Sean Avery accompanied by one male. Who ended up with what, who knows?
Courtney kooky Love. Bowery Hotel. Eight p.m.-ish. Last Wednesday. Beige trench coat. Alone. Began conversation out of the blue with people at restaurant Gemma’s outdoor table. Then, out of the same blue, suddenly ran inside.
New York Ranger Marian Gaborik hanging out. Alone. At Bagatelle. Talking to strangers. We should’ve introduced him to Courtney.
Motley Crue’s Vince Neil, 11 p.m.-ish, at Head Quarters, a jiggle joint on 38th Street, 30 minutes. What he did, being a proper gent of very highest class, was maybe escorting to their strip club employment place two of its hardworking-type ladies. I have both their names so if maybe they’re afraid to cross the street by themselves, I’ll be happy to help.
Bruce Willis. Mid-afternoon. Park Avenue in the 40s. Eating an apple. Hanging off a pole. Winking, making eye passes at whatever females passed past.
Ashton Kutcher. Afternoon. Central Park. Around the upper 60s, lower 70s. With his current temp Mila Kunis. Heavy at it. Kissing, that is. With all he earns on “Two and a Half Men,” surely he can spring for a room. I mean, even if she chips in.
Kris Humphries, midnight. With two guys. At Toy. Dressed down. Unshaven. An itchy female needing a definite scratching took repeat cellphone photos of him. Snatching it, he finally snapped one shot himself then returned the cell. Next, her friend started taking pictures. Qué pasa after that, I don’t know because I was too busy checking Bruce, Courtney, Ashton, Vince, Gaborik and Lindsay.
And Demi Moore, of Ashton Kutcher fame, at the Belvedere Hotel. In Mykonos. Good. The Greeks could use the money.
BARTENDER: Never follow good whiskey with water. Unless it’s not good whiskey.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.