A Live Doll Takes It to the...
A Live Doll Takes It to the Maxie
She is bright, personable, articulate beyond her years. But that’s not why they chose her. Mainly, they chose Brooke Theiss because she looks exactly like Barbie. Make that Maxie. Or is it Maxie who looks like Barbie?
When the powder clears, it is apparent that Theiss, 18, of Palos Verdes, is touring America on behalf of Maxie, latest pretender to the throne of Barbie, still undisputed queen of “fashion” dolls. Hasbro, the toy firm out to make a Maxie-million, is only the latest to attempt to impeach the unimpeachable. Hasbro has tried before, with a dolly named Jet, which crashed with all hands aboard.
Still, Hasbro reasons that Barbie, born postmaturely 30 years ago at the age of 17, is now crowding 50; ergo, today’s babes will better identify with the ever-young Maxie. Theiss, meanwhile, admits, “I had Barbies as a kid, but I didn’t play with them too often. I didn’t relate.” Theiss “preferred baby dolls, life-sized. I fantasized being a mother . I still do. I want six kids.”
The kid-clogged tour, then, has been genuine fun for the actress (Wendy on TV’s “Just the 10 of Us”), who’s most often billed as “wholesome.” “Sure; I am ,” Theiss says. “A pure, clean look. Not real vulgie.” Vulgie? “ You know,” she says. “Anyway, I don’t take credit for my looks. It all started with God. . . . “
Talent, though, must be developed, and post-Maxie, Theiss will start college at NYU: “My mother and I found it has the best drama school by far; 50% better than USC.” Eat your heart out, Troy.
Rally ‘Round the Flag in Hollywood
Ask any tourist. For a place that’s supposed to be a place, Hollywood is hard to find.
OK, the signs say it’s Hollywood, and underfoot on the Boulevard are all those sidewalk stars, but aside from that, can this meretricious miscellany of misfits be the Hollywood? The Hollywood of Gable and Swanson and Funicello? The Hollywood we sing “Hooray” to? Must be lost, Myrt.
No more. By mid-winter, a tourist will durn well know where he is, thanks to a somewhat whimsical competition being staged by Hollywood/Highland Partners (HHP), a real-estate project, in league with the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce. The contest (for local high-school youth) is designed to produce a Hollywood flag, of all things. (First prize: a $2,000 scholarship to Otis Parsons. Top judge: David Hockney.)
Why a flag? “Why not?” asks Bill Welsh, C of C president (“ Somebody had to be”). “It’ll give people a little more chance to get involved with their neighborhood. It’ll add to the feeling that we’re an active, going community. People could fly it on their lawns, in front of their businesses. . . . We’re into a redevelopment project of 1,100 acres, building the Hollywood of the 21st Century--and we’ve got to hurry; we have only 12 years left.”
Back to the flag, though. How does Welsh envision the heraldry? Procurers rampant? “You’ve got the (Hollywood) Sign,” he says, “the Walk of Fame, the Bowl, the Chinese theater. . . . Lots of possibilities. As for the street people, the pushers, we’ll get rid of them by attracting better businesses, which will lead to better jobs, better housing, better people. . . . “ Better flags.
Call Ripley: 7-Week-Old Baby Walks
Let’s not beat around the bush. Aaron Anthony Taminich is illiterate. He can’t read, nor can he write. He cannot perform simple tasks like combing his hair, whistling “Heartaches” or filling out the Short Form. Aaron Anthony Taminich, if the truth were known, is not even potty-trained.
What he does, though, young Aaron Anthony, is walk. He’s been strutting his stuff, in fact, since Oct. 2, says his Mom, Tammy, a waitress from Signal Hill. At the time, Aaron was 7 weeks old.
“I know, I know; people don’t believe it,” says Taminich, “but I have it on videotape. At about 2 weeks I knew he was going to walk early--well, not that early, but early. He would stand up as I was holding him, real stiff-legged and strong.
“When he was 7 weeks old, I stood him up on the dressing table, just playing with him. He was holding onto my fingertips, and he started taking steps toward me, cool as he could be, one foot in front of the other--practically running because he’s so light. . . . “
Both Tammy, 20, and Aaron’s dad ran track in junior high and high school, “so maybe it’s genetics. Anyway, people tell me he’s going to be really smart; after all, it’s his brain that’s telling his legs what to do.” Or, skipping a few lines of the old song: The foot bone connected from the head bone.
“It’s a wonder to watch,” concludes Taminich. “He’s so alert . I worry about his being bow-legged, but I know he’ll be at least a football player. Probably much more.” One small step for a baby; a giant leap for Aaron Anthony.
