George Peppard's Hairdresser

Fall of 1977 was first attempt at living in Los Angeles. I had just completed my Summer Stock commitment and had $500 dollars in my pocket, a beat-up Pontiac Grand Prix (which I purchased for $100 of those dollars), and absolutely no prospects. Unfortunately, no one (including Gene Roddenberry), was hiring vagabond actors), so I did the next best thing. Circling an ad in a local trade called Drama-Logue, I showed up in Beverly Hills for a job calling businesses throughout the country and selling Bic pens.  The father of the owner happened to be in the office and was currently hiring for his construction job in the Hollywood Hills. With no construction experience whatsoever, I was hired. Job was 8 to 5 M-F and paid five bucks an hour.  No paperwork, paid in cash. Sold!
 
Ray must have been in his late seventies, had late-stage emphysema, smoked at least a pack of Merit Golds a day and also knew nothing about construction. Needless to say, it was a match made in heaven. The job was a house in the Hollywood hills just off Hollywood Blvd. Next door to the house that was being renovated was the hairdresser to the stars. Well, at least two stars: George Peppard and Artie Johnson.  In my four months of working there, I never saw either George or Artie and seldom saw the hairdresser. But I did speak regularly to his elderly mother who seemed to never tire of her housecoat and slippers. A carpenter, who sold great marijuana on the side, was my supervisor. For the record, I never called in as it was probably the best job I ever had in my life. 
 
For the interest of historical accuracy, I will tell you my entire work schedule. Please keep in mind, save for the occasional errand I would run in Ray’s convertible Mercedes, my schedule and how I spent my day never changed.
 
7 am. Wake up and get ready for work, listening to either Boz Scaggs, Electric Light Orchestra or Weather Report. Wake and bake.
 
8 am. Arrive at work and smoke a joint, waiting for the carpenter or Ray (Merit Gold) to arrive.
 
9 am. Visit with George Peppard’s hairdresser’s mother. 
 
9: 15. Continue to wait.
 
9:30. Smoke another joint.
 
10:00. The carpenter shows up and we smoke another joint. The carpenter walks around and points out several items that we need to get done.
10:30. Carpenter leaves for his other job.
 
11:00. Do something that looks like I’ve been working.
 
12:00 pm. Break for Lunch. Drive to the Alpha Beta Market for a quart of cheap beer and for two hot dogs at the stand. (For the record, there was a restaurant on the corner, and a Pussycat Theatre across the street).
 
1:00 pm return to work. Walk around and wonder what I should do. Arrival of Ray. Watch him cough and smoke, pointing out all the work that I have accomplished. Ray is impressed. I look next door and the hairdresser’s mother, still in housecoat, is shaking her head disapprovingly.
 
2:00. Maybe do some work. Maybe not. Sometimes I am too tired from the quart of beer. Sometimes they give me a sledgehammer and tell me to knock out a wall. For the record, I am always up for anything involving a sledgehammer.
 
3:00 Break time. Carpenter returns and we smoke another joint.
 
4:00 Hairdresser returns home. He’s no Jon Peters but he does have nice hair. He’s nice enough to relate stories of cutting hair for two major stars. 
 
5:00 lock the gate that leads to the two houses and drive home.
 
Rinse and repeat until December.
 
 I was never fired, reprimanded in any way for my work ethic (not counting the disapproving works of the mother), and am not really sure why I didn’t return after Christmas break.
 
Oh yeah, Ray died.