Last night, for reason’s soon to be explained in an upcoming photo post, a friend and I headed to one of New York’s most revered restaurants in the minds of many a foreign tourist: Planet Hollywood, that gaudy celebordello of movie memorabilia and Cap’n Crunch fried chicken. But somehow, surrounded by leopard print carpeting and True Lies props, we discovered something that actually struck a real emotional chord: The plaster hand-print of legendary actor Paul Newman, who passed away only a couple of days ago.
Look closely at the conviction with which this man placed his hands in the plaster. This was no Hollywood dandy. This was a racecar driver who would slap you in the mouth and then heal you with salad dressing. Here is the handprint of a man who knew what he wanted in life, and got it. These were Paul Newman’s goddamned hands.
Who knew Planet Hollywood would be so moving?
One more photo with a different tinge ahead…
