SO WE drove along Hollywood Boulevard on a chilly night hoping we can catch a star, would-be star, starlet or falling star along the way. Chances were nil but hey, nothing is impossible.
A couple of rounds around the block, we decided to ditch the car and took to the streets on foot to up our chances of bumping into any of the stars mentioned above. All my hopes are high, in Hollywood anything can happen.
Las Vegas has honored me with a glimpse of Donny Osmond walking past me on an overpass. Here in Hollywood boulevard, chances are good, certainly better than sighting a "It's a little bit country, it's a little bit rock and roll" type of vintage star. Come on LA show us what you got!
It was Prospect Avenue then, it was nicknamed Santa Claus Lane after Gene Autry in Santa gear rode his horse on a parade and the children excitedly shrieked "Here comes Santa Claus, Here comes Santa Claus," (thus the song), and now it holds the names of the biggest celebrities on its pavement- the Hollywood Walk of Fame -- stretching from Gower Street to La Brea Avenue to Vine Street to total to an 18-block series. Not too much. Grin.
The bronze stars at the Walk of Fame are laid as a tribute to the artists and icons in the entertainment industry. It is a permanent public monument honoring the achievements of Hollywood's actors, musicians, directors, producers, musical and theatrical groups even fictional characters.
Joanne Woodward was the very first performer to receive the five-pointed terrazzo and brass star in 1960. Now she shares the walk with other industry stars, more that 2,400 of them, such as Walt Disney, Michael Jackson and my favorite Japanese star, Godzilla.
Attracting me plus more than ten million visitors each year, the Walk of Fame plays a very crucial role in the tourism industry in L.A.
So far, it is only the stars I trod on that I have seen no living ones. But luckily one is being rolled down as she sits on a platform beaming her pearly whites to everyone she passes by. Gorgeous in her famous garb, the white dress, was Marilyn Monroe. Her wax figure at least, finding her way in her home at Madame Tussaud's.
Still no luck in star sighting so far, my L.A. localized Dabawenyo friends continued touring me to the rest of the must-have-a-picture-at sights in the vicinity. I found myself on slabs of concrete with hand prints, footprints, signatures and as I read the names, they were motion picture personalities.
Apparently, these are the distinctive features of the Grauman's Chinese Theater, a 1926 movie theater where Cecile B. DeMille's the King of Kings premiered. Since then, the theater has been home to more movie premieres, gals and three Academy Awards ceremonies.
Then we reached a very familiar sight, a grand staircase flanked by columns, but it seemed to be smaller than what I perceived it to be (the magic of TV) -- the Kodak Theater (trivia: Eastman Kodak sponsored the construction and paid the CIM Group $75 million to have its name associated with the building. Wikipedia).
Since its opening, it had become the permanent home to the golden man, The Oscars aka the annual Academy Awards, and of course, the worldwide phenomenon of American Idol (until the 7,000-seater Nokia Theater opened in 2007.)
Undressed of drapes, frills and red carpet of the awards, the Kodak Theater and its complex looks less massive. Still no sign of any living stars, Simon Cowell or any other paparazzi-chased beings. IT was time to arm up with coffee.
A slow sip while eyes scanning the area just in case someone important is trying to blend in. Who am I trying to kid? Honestly, I won't even know if I just passed by an actor or actress with so many stars in Hollywood, not unless they are ganged up by fans already.
So much for luck. We called it a night. At least I have seen stars, the one on the pavement that is. It was good enough.