Is there such a thing as a coincidence? A guy I’ve known since kindergarten just sent me a YouTube trailer for the 2022 “Roku original” Weird Al Yankovic biopic in which his mother memorably tells young Al across the dining room table, “Your dad and I agreed it would be best if you just stopped being who you are and doing the things you love.”
Later, as a teen, Al is brought home by a police officer for illicitly playing the accordion at a polka party.
“What’s the currency, friend?” I asked the sender, to roaring silence.
Well, it so happens that four days earlier Weird Al had appeared on NPR’s “Tiny Desk Concerts,” invoking that same “100-percent completely factually accurate biopic,” namely “Weird: The Al Yankovic Story,” at one point breaking out the song he wrote to play over the rolling end credits, “Now You Know” — “Yeah the truth came out / We finally removed all doubt / If it’s in a movie it’s gotta be true.”
But here’s the other thing. I’ve met him. It was on some Hollywood soundstage when I was first out there and working with another old friend, this one dating to my college years, who was a production designer on bottom-feeding VHS tape fare like Playboy Playmate of the Year videos (shockingly tame by today’s standards), commercials (remember Budweiser’s “Wassup” guys?), and puzzlingly greenlighted disasters like the Chimp Channel, with simian performers in parodies of other TV shows (I missed that one, but was glad my friend escaped without his face ripped off).
The guy is funny, charming, good hair, perfect for showbiz. He moved on and up and at some point became friends with Weird Al. Who was, is, let’s face it, a star, if of a lower-altitude firmament. Famous. Yet upon introduction he clearly paused a beat, a look of anticipation on his face as he awaited the usual praise or other expression of fandom.
I gave none.
Refusing to play along: It’s just one of any number of reasons an average Joe does not belong in Hollywood. Attention-seeking is one thing, but needing the love of a nobody during down time when no one else is looking?
It’s easier to understand the more traditional performer’s personality, the demanding, high-handed “prick mother,” as they say among the grips and gaffers, because when you alone are the show, hey, certain expectations must be met, attention must be paid.
Still, I think of my time there often. The plush red leather booths at Hamburger Hamlet. Taking in Krzysztof Kieslowski’s “Blue” on the immense screen at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Going for runs through the chaparral at Griffith Park.
My former contact seems to be doing well. In fact, he worked on production design for the Weird Al Yankovic biopic, his friend’s movie.
That’s how it works.