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YOU OUGHTA BE IN PICTURES
Kenny Moore
February 01, 1982
When Hollywood calls, who among us can turn away? Not the author, a writer-athlete who decided to put his personal best foot forward
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February 01, 1982

You Oughta Be In Pictures

When Hollywood calls, who among us can turn away? Not the author, a writer-athlete who decided to put his personal best foot forward

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"I hope it's not rude to ask," said the ranger, "but what do you do?"

"Didn't they tell you?"

"They just said that their company will lose $50,000 a day for every day you're not there. Hired a bunch of us to run you down."

"It's a movie." It was hard to say it. "But I thought it was done. Shooting was over."

The three of us sat at the fire and shared the wine and fish and potatoes, and thought it out. The ranger seemed embarrassed that it wasn't something else, something more vital. He complimented the fish.

"Any chance of bribing you to keep your mouth shut about finding us?" I said.

The ranger winced. "I promised I'd call," he said. There must have been a bounty.

"Well," said my friend to me, "you know you'll go back. We'll never get any sleep if you don't."

For a moment I thought she was wildly overestimating the strength of my conscience. "Why not?" I asked.

"Because of all the helicopters with searchlights that Robert Towne will send to hunt us."

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