Dean Martin's Dentist

“You really need to get back to writing about what you do best,” my mother called to tell me. I had no idea what she meant by this. Snark? Bitterness? A perpetual state of nagging disappointment even during my finest hour? “You write best about people who’ve touched you out there,” she said. I didn’t know how to tell her that nobody actually touches each other in Hollywood. It’s not like New York where you’re all on the street together and you could easily pass off touching as an accident. In L.A., we barely look at one another, except to pass sub-conscious judgment on a butt that’s too big, a face too weatherworn or a car too old. I myself get judged quite regularly in this town, I’m willing to wager.

Now that I’m mostly locked indoors working on my first big studio assignment, I have to rely on the neighbors for any remote human contact. The old man next door, Gordon “Russ” Russell, is a Korean war vet and retired junk dealer an ambulance came for last week. It turns out he has a serious heart condition that in all likelihood will be the thing that gets him. He’s well into his eighties, so I suppose his dying wouldn’t be all that tragic in the grand scheme of things, although it never seems a good time to pencil death in.

I followed him to the hospital to be neighborly, where the nurses informed me that I’m his only friend in the world. This despite my only having met him six months back. Though he'd offered to look after my dogs when I went to Sundance, I wasn’t certain that obligated me alone to watch him take his last breath. He gave me a letter to send to an estranged sister in Albuquerque in the event he didn’t make it, although he doesn’t have anything for her to claim except a garage full of vintage Playboys.

He’d been an incorrigible youth sent to Boystown, where he played on the football team and served as a pallbearer at Father Flanagan’s funeral. He only specific Hollywood connection appears to have been sharing Dean Martin’s dentist, Dr. Peter K. Thomas, a fellow he’s mentioned to me at least twenty times. I find this ironic, since the old man has so few teeth I had to ask the half-wit hospital orderly to grind his food before serving it after witnessing an unfortunate choking and Heimlich incident. Russ claims that Dr. Thomas took him to a big soiree up at the Trocadero back in the day, where he encountered Marilyn Monroe, Ginger Rogers and Judy Garland, who also owed their famous celebrity chompers to Dr. Thomas’s handiwork. This all seemed a bit far-fetched, so I Googled the late Dr. Thomas and discovered he had indeed been a rather prominent Hollywood dentist and man about town in his time.

He’s been dead for years, however, so that leaves this reclusive screenwriting neighbor with so few permanent connections of her own to look after Russ in his last days. This is clearly a guy who’s made an awful lot of mistakes in life, since avoiding dying broke and alone seems to me to be the unspoken force driving most of us—especially in a place as notoriously difficult to accomplish that as Hollywood. On the other hand, the studio might actually end up making my movie, meaning I’d have a big Hollywood soiree of my own to attend with a date. I’m no Ginger Rogers, but if Russ can hang on that long, with the right partner I am known to dance one kick-ass Macarena.


  1. You could yet earn some bigtime notoriety dancing the macarena with an octogenarian with a heart condition. They say no publicity is bad publicity. Julie, the workingman's Anna Nichole.

  2. We never know when we are going to take our last breath or who will be the last person we see? You're probably offering Russ a warm send off and the impetus to demand his choppers back from Dr. Thomas when he gets to the other side.

    Look at the bright side. At least you don't have to masticate his food for him, I mean unless you're into that sort of thing?

    I can see the headlines now. "Hollywood Screeenwriter Feeds Dying Man Who Proproses To Her On His Deathbed."

    Imagine the reality show to follow. It can happen, especially in this town! I'll call Mark Burnett and see what he's doing this afternoon. Check your local listings.

  3. He's lucky to have you.

  4. Anonymous9:10 AM

    be nice, he may leave you his IBM shares he bought way back when, when it was just a basement startup... then you can buy Fox and then hire all of us

  5. Anonymous3:05 AM

    Interesting blog. I knew Dr. Peter K. Thomas towards the end of his life. He was all the Dentist you described and more. Last I knew, he still had the moldings of Marilyn Monroe's, John Wayne, Willie Shoemakers, Judy Garlands, Conrad Hilton's, and Steve McQueen's and others teeth moldings. I recall eating brunch with him for years at the Beverly Hilton hotel oftentimes with Earl Scheib. Those were the days.

  6. Dr Thomas was my grandpa, he was a very eccentric man who LOVED what he did.

  7. Many people loved Dr Peter K. Thomas including me. He was eccentric, but boy could he cut teeth beautifully. He roamed the world picking up accolades and teaching classes on how to do better dentistry. one of his study clubs was in Laguna, California. There is a picture of me with Peter on my website: http://abitingchance.blogspot.com/search?q=Peter+K+Thomas
    Dr Neil McLeod