Hollywood, Hollywood North, And The Stars In My Eyes

I am a Canadian baby boomer. Like most of my generation, I grew up suckling at the breast of American television in the years when Canadian television and cinema were still in their formative years.

Watching everything from the Mickey Mouse Club to My Three Sons and the Dick Van Dyke show, I absolutely adored Jerry Mather as the Beaver and was amused by Bob Denver as Maynard G. Crebs on Dobie Gillis. I swooned when Conrad Birdy sang “One Last Kiss” in Bye Bye Birdie” and rejoiced each time Doris Day and Rock Hudson fell in love. I might as well have lived in Chicago or Detroit. Except for the amazing all-Canadian Wayne and Shuster Comedy Hour, whenever I turned on the TV or went to a movie matinee, I felt as American as apple pie.

Years later, while living in New York City, I was drawn to such famous movie landmarks as FAO Schwarz, the wondrous Plaza Hotel – I could easily imagine Barbra Streisand picketing out front-, the Statue of Liberty and Empire State building. To my great disappointment, neither Cary Grant nor Meg Ryan were ever there when I visited the observation deck.

I soon realized that the images of these seemingly magical places were imprinted on my brain by years of exposure to the hypnotic world of television and film. Fifth Avenue became my Yellow Brick Road and Times Square a special place where I could imagine Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers painting the town red.