16 December, 2006
Still Not Barry Bostwick
As you know, there are some who have speculated that this blog is the work of American actor Barry Bostwick. I revealed this to be false some time ago. I am not guilty of being Barry Bostwick, however, in the style of the trashiest Murdoch-style tabloids let us imagine for a moment that I am not Mr Trivia. If I were Barry Bostwick, how would I spend today?
I wake in my fabulous mansion on the shores of lake Como. Sure I’m 60, but I still have a commanding presence like Ronn Moss or Ron Jeremy or someone called Ron. Except that I am Barry. I resolve to check the Internet to see if I am the most famous and charismatic of the Barrys on the www.
I am on the computer and I click TV.com. Pah! Television, what a waste of time. Except for my career-defining role as Mayor Winston in SPIN CITY and the time I spent in pervy Euro-Trash sci-fi series THE LEXX, most of the time spent on the small screen is merely an exercise in paying the bills.
I sit in my study and sip my chai tea. I think of my time in theatre when I created the role of Danny Zuko in GREASE on Broadway. Travolta made it famous on film, but I created the role in the first place.
And what about my long-standing movie career? I click IMdB. I am forever Brad Majors in THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW. I was also in WEEKEND AT BERNIES 2, although surely I dropped that off my resume? Damn, the Internet and IMdB! But then I realise that past glories are worth very little. I agree with The Buddha re: living in the moment.
I Google-search “Barry” on the ‘net. Dave Barry scores highly on page 1, but that’s a surname so it doesn’t count. Then in the bottom half of the first page, Barry Manilow appears, which I don’t get. Sure, he wrote MANDY, COPACOBANA and a number of the songs that make the whole world sing. But Manilow?
Then it gets stupid. Barry Bonds – baseball, whaddya expect? BARRY LYNDON, which I resent because it’s a fictional film (although Ryan did a fine job in the lead role – I see himat the track, in Lisbon sometimes, he always says hello). Then on page 6 – Barry Freakin’ Williams! Greg from the freakin’ BRADY BUNCH! Hello?! (Interrobang). He played a whitebread kid in a whitebread series in the 1970s people! Not Brad Majors. Not Mayor Winston. Not the voice of the narrator in the fabulous 1971 animation FANTASTIC PLANET
Around page 20 I give up. I think about a sauna, when my Instant Messenger goes PING!. It’s Bosto59. She’s the head of my fanclub in Lichtenstein. She suggests that I Google-search ”Barry Bostwick”. I do. There are pages and pages of me. I breathe a sigh of relief.
It seems silly I know, but to paraphrase the Bard I have no wish to be but “a poor player,that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more”.
I have to stay contemporary to stay in the game. I am fighting men half my age for roles. Actually that’s not true, they can’t play 50-60! Not like me!
I leave my computer and my worries behind. I will do 50 laps of my half-size Olympic pool this morning. Travolta is picking me up in the jet around noon and we’re having lunch in Monte Carlo. Maybe we’ll talk about our different interpretations of Danny Zuko!
So, as I have explained, I am not Barry Bostwick. But If I were, I believe my life would be a little like that.
Elevate the Insignificant,