Pamela Anderson Saved My Life

And my husband reminded me we did sign a paper saying we would send her home. She has a loving Mommy in El Salvador missing her. Soon she will have a “Mommy” in Malibu missing her too.

Speaking of the Bu I see Pamela Anderson is selling her home in the Colony. Malibu Colony is one small street with one big guard shack. To get in you have to be on a list (and the guards still look like they want to frisk you). The houses are right one top of each other. 7 million doesn’t buy you much beach. The street is packed with stars. Some use it as a beach house. Their real house is about 7 miles away. Comedian John Lovitz once asked me if I lived in Malibu all year round. I do. Even in the harsh winter months. When it can get down to 60 degrees. But I digress. The Colony is kind of a fancy celebrity ghetto. I had a friend who lived between Pam and Jim Carey. A Pam and ham sandwich.

At that house…Pamela saved my life. God helped. But really it was Pam. She didn’t save me in a BAYWATCH way. I was only drowning in gossip. On Good Day LA I was reporting on people I would see at Starbucks. It’s like shitting where you eat (or drink coffee).

Years ago I was invited to a playdate (with wine, the best kind if you can walk home) at the Colony. It was a bunch of Hollywood Moms and me (lowly local TV mommy). My son was 3 and fidgety. Slippery little sucker wouldn’t let me sun screen him . I didn’t want to scream at him. So in front of the actresses I acted like it was fun to chase him. And there’s Pam. All is calm, all is bright. Wearing white, like an angel with Barbie boobs. Serenely sun screening her kid. My son stopped. They were practically nose to nipple. He was mesmerized by the lunch wagons (all boobs become the lunch wagons once you have a kid, well maybe all but Pam’s). She got a lot of sun screen on him.

Later I heard Pam ask the host why she had invited me. She asked why invite someone who will gossip about me and my kids on TV tomorrow. I died a little. It was a fair question. My face was redder than my son’s from the sun.

When our kids went to school together I had a (silly?) rule: no reporting on anyone I see on the kindergarten story time rug.
It was a baby step. Maybe I wasn’t saving the world. But I thought of it as saving the world one less gossip story at a time. Years later Pam complained to me that she couldn’t get any publicity on my show. I think she was (mostly) joking.

OK… story time is over.

I’m getting out of bed.