You know the old adage—what good is a law degree if not for arresting Charlton Heston in front of the nation?
Or something like that.
For reasons that aren’t immediately clear to me, my dad, fresh out of Harvard Law, moved to California and tried to make it in the biz. Perhaps he had seen and met all the Northeast and Midwest had to offer and sought greener pastures. In any case, this led to a string of gigs and bit roles, including guest appearances on shows like ‘The Colbys’ and ‘Falcon Crest,’ and a recurring spot (a somewhat more fitting role, it should be said) as an attorney on the early 80’s iteration of ‘Divorce Court.’ If I remember correctly, the latter role supplied him with an excellent denim jacket featuring a broken heart on the back, unearthed dozens of years later in a closet in Northern Michigan.
Eventually, he tried his hand at a different form of public life: politics. Vying for a congressional seat from California’s 21st congressional district, he rubbed shoulders with some interesting characters, faux-arrested a few others, and ultimately fell short; but I think it’s the pursuit of that most West Coast dream which really endures.