It must have been strange having Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love as parents. A rock God and sort of a hopeless mess with her own talents and contributions that have been wildly overshadowed by her nutty personality. I can’t imagine it. Let’s face it. Your Mom seems completely crazy. And by crazy, I mean that it’s probably a really smart idea to keep your distance. Remember, it’s not about you. It’s about her. At least your grandmother and aunt stepped in when it counted. I hope they were nice to you.

I recently saw the photos of you that were taken by Hedi Slimane. I think a lot of people were surprised by them. But to me, you seem like someone I’d probably like to compare reading lists with. I’m assuming you’re as much of a book dork as me.

Quentin Crisp

Your tattoos tell me that you’re really smart. You have a lot of references to art and celebrities on your body which are really interesting to me. Like I’ve said before, I am not the tattoo type of girl. But I do appreciate that you happen to appreciate the cultural contributions of others. That’s what my whole blog is about… appreciating little pieces of the human puzzle.

So let’s break it down. First, you have a huge portrait of Quentin Crisp on your back. This is a very interesting choice. He wrote The Naked Civil Servant and was a major 70s gay icon. He was the ultimate effeminate chap from London. Why did you choose him? He was a writer, illustrator, actor and artist’s model. He just seemed hip beyond measure. I hope you write about him someday.

Then there’s the text on your arm– lyrics from Jeff Buckley‘s song, Grace. It reads:

“”There’s the moon asking to stay
Long enough for the clouds to fly me away
Well it’s my time coming, I’m not afraid to die.”

That’s pretty heavy. I love Jeff Buckley, too. You have excellent taste. I especially love Lilac Wine. That is an awesome song. I can’t help but think that he also died tragically at a young age. He was a talent beyond measure, like your Dad.

Then there’s the French phrase on your back:

L’art est la solution au chaos.

Art is the solution to chaos. Some people have said that this is sort of an inelegant translation, but we get the point. Your life has been publicly riddled with chaos… suicide, parental drug use, inescapable fame that you didn’t ask for. Wow. Thank God for art. Seriously.

Anyway, I hope all is well in your world. Keep doing your art thing. And you don’t have to use a pseudonym if you don’t want to. People will take you seriously. Trust me.

Always,

Capra

If I come rushing toward you at Comic Con, don't be frightened. I just need a Christmas card pic.

OMG. I just found out that all of you kids (now grown waaaay up) from the original Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory will be in Austin for Comic Con in November. Call me weird, but I liked that original, kooky 70s version so much better than the Tim Burton version– but do NOT tell Johnny Depp. M’kay?

Aside from the fact that I have a serious sweet tooth, your movie has stuck with me like an Everlasting Gobstopper in my soul. OK, maybe that’s stretching it (like delicious toffee), but the point is that Charlie won in the end. His integrity, his honesty, his truth– it all meant something in a world of thieves, consumerism and selfish brats. Go Charlie.

It will be incredibly satisfying getting my picture taken with all of you. This, of course, means I absolutely must dress up like Willy Wonka. And I will also be scrapping my famous Christmas card ban this year and definitely plan to have the most epic card of all time. Would you guys mind wearing Santa hats? Just think about it.

These conventions are pretty intense, I know. My friend Eliot goes to them every year and he always assumes a dashing Dr. Who persona. It’s sort of his thing. I used to not tell people that I went to Comic Con. I was afraid of the social stigma. But then when I went to my first one, I saw half of the drama club, most of the band and four guys from the tennis team. I’m sure there were more, but there is absolutely no way I could identify anyone in a Boba Fett or a Neytiri get up.

So anyway, I just wanted to let you know that when you see a teenage girl dressed up like Gene Wilder holding a bunch of Santa hats and rushing toward you, don’t be frightened. Like the song says, “There is no place I know that compares with pure imagination…”

Always,
Capra

Actually, I have a lot of questions about the whole tattoo game. I, of course, don’t have any because I’m only 16. But I’m just curious as to why people get them. I’m a Gemini, so I can barely commit to what I’m going to have for breakfast, not to mention something permanent stabbed into my skin.  Actually, I am into scrapbooks and journaling, and I suppose it’s sort of the same concept. You want to document your experiences, chronicle them somehow, celebrate them. But pink hair is probably the closest I’m going to get to altering my looks.

Sure, that might change. But it would probably take me years to decide what to get. An animal? A pattern? A saying? Some elaborate scene? And then there’s the portrait tattoos which you’re obviously an expert in. Allowing someone to tattoo you takes the sort of courage and trust I just don’t have.  I mean, what if they completely screw up? And, as in your case and probably countless people before you, what happens if you break up with your portrait? Are you just going to say to yourself, “Well, that’s just a chapter in my life. It’s fine,” or are you getting that thing lasered off, like, immediately?

Maybe you could make him into something else. Like an evil clown. Aren’t those popular? Or how about making that portrait look like Herve Villechaize and just tell people, “I got a tattoo of Tattoo.” That would be clever, right?

Listen, I’m not going to believe all the online gossip about Jesse James with yet another woman, but it certainly sounds like he is a serial cheater. If that’s the case, good riddance to him. Maybe you could tattoo some choice words over his face… maybe something like “Avoid THIS guy. Trust me.”

Always,

Capra

Then you died.

I suppose I can’t blame people who immediately grabbed on to the spooky fact that you were 27 years old, just 11 years older than me. You could have been my big sister. Being the newest member of “The 27 Club” seems to be both accurate and belittling. I look at my four year-old cousin and I wonder if he has the addiction gene like you did. Any of us could. My grandfather had it, and so did my great grandmother. But they got better. Maybe they didn’t seem happy all the time, but they were alive and they did manage to have moments of joy in their lives .What I’m saying is that they could get there to, you know, themselves.

I don’t know what it must have felt like to 1) feel completely uncomfortable and miserable while sober and 2) have the power to control your condition, but basically decide not to. For the non-addict this seems insane. But it’s a brain thing, a self-esteem thing, and maybe an art thing.

It makes me anxious, as a young artist myself, to see the myth of the tortured, suicidal artist play itself out yet again in the headlines. Is creating good art more important than life itself? Is it more important than taking that big step to accept that itchy, hopeless feeling for the rest of your life so you can live another day? Why did you wrap yourself up in your image and how much and well you produced music so much so that you couldn’t bear to face your flaws? If we were, like, really little kids and you saw a little girl saying “I have to get this right, I have do better, people won’t like me unless I give them something great” wouldn’t you do everything you could to sweep that little girl up in your arms and say, “No, no you’ve got it all wrong. You’re good enough just being you, right here and right now. Now worries, OK love?” I have a feeling you would be really nice that way.

But now it’s too late. A very deep, damaged part of yourself gave in and gave up. You couldn’t fathom living day in day and out without the comforting, buffering haze of drugs and alcohol. You forgot the feeling you had when someone close to you would hold you and rock you to sleep if you were low in yourself. You forgot the joy of swinging too high on a playground swing and then hurling yourself into the air, a little scared that you might land too hard, but relieved and excited when you didn’t. You forgot the feeling of having cousins over you haven’t seen in a long time and sleeping in a tent under the stars. Did you ever do that?

I don’t understand addicts. But I do understand that addiction is a real disease that really kills. I am sad for you, Amy. I was going to say that I’m sad for all the world who will never experience all the music you had left in you. But I actually don’t care about that so much. I guess I care about you because I don’t personally know anyone, at the moment, who is slowing killing herself or has actually self-destructed. I knew you through pictures and recordings and reports. You were a human being– a person who died from a terrible disease that millions of people have. I am sad for all of them, too.

Rest in Peace, Amy.

Always,

Capra

Mr. Murdoch, You need a MAJOR time out.

I am just getting up to speed on all this hoo-ha over the phone hacking/tapping scandal in London and elsewhere. So what you’re telling everyone is that you had absolutely nothing to do with and no knowledge of any phone hacking by your editors or reporters? They bugged everyone! Celebrities, politicians, victims’ families. You seriously expect the world to believe you?

“Operatives for Murdoch’s News of the World, which he shut down Sunday, reportedly hacked into the voice mail of a 13-year-old murder victim and deleted some messages, leading her parents to hope, falsely, that she was alive. Other allegations include that Murdoch reporters bribed police, hacked into phone messages of bereaved military families and paid the queen’s bodyguards for phone numbers and travel plans.” (I got this from an editorial in the Chicago Sun-Times.)

Here’s the thing. You’ve built an international media empire based on sensationalistic, crude, money-grubbing journalism. You’ve made a lot of money. You have not necessarily made the world a better place with the fortune you have amassed based on the misery of others.

Your business practices completely suck. You are biased. You sway elections to suit your business. You troll people’s voice mails and bribe police officers. You get excited when you break news on Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears even though it may be through illegal means. That makes you more money.

Your argument may be that you’re just giving people what they want. That is the age old justification for anything that’s really horrible and bad for people– like guns, french fries and thongs. You’re just giving people what they want. You’re making an honest buck. Really?

Journalism used to be awesome. It used to be something that I thought I might want to get into. Maybe it was because my Mom and Dad made me watch movies like Broadcast News and All the President’s Men. My parents taught me all about the greats like Walter Kronkite, Edward R. Murrow, Katharine Graham, Seymour Hersh. Look, here’s a list of some them right here. Do you remember any of them?

My generation will never know what it’s like to look at the news and completely, 100% believe that the reporter is unbiased. That era of journalism is so over. And, thanks to your “operatives” we are revisiting the unsavory possibility that there are no limits, no boundaries, to getting what you want. That is the total opposite of what we’re taught in preschool. It’s called respect.

Everyone has has some agenda they want to push. Everyone has an opinion. And they don’t even need to earn the public’s trust anymore. They just get hired, get on camera and start talking. I mean, there’s no incentive to be honest or to change your opinions at all. The crazier the talk, the more lurid the articles, the more money you get. It’s sort of disgusting.

And now your empire has taken dishonesty to a whole new level. Shame on you. Shame, shame, shame.

Always,

Capra

So instead of the Brando letter, I decided to go in a different direction today. (Don’t worry, I’m still working on the letter)

Therefore in honor of Brando’s wacky interviews, I made a list of other strange celebrity interviews that you might like.  I don’t generally do lists, but I just had to share.

Marlon Brando is easily distracted by his dogs and cookies. Lordy, this is epic.

Quentin Tarantino FREAKS out with a San Francisco reporter named Jane.

Joaquin Phoenix is, well, is he there at all?

Billy Bob Thornton is unflinchingly arrogant and mean with this super patient and nice Canadian DJ. Poor DJ.

Tom Cruise, you are one nutty dude.

And then there’s this guy, Chris Young, who is not actually a celebrity but I think he rounds this list out nicely.

What are some of your favorite awkward celebrity interviews?

Always,

Capra

Or this…

Listen, other than the obvious “don’t act like a stalker” tip which I agree with, the best advice is about grammar and compliments. Really? I have soooo failed in my fan letter writing etiquette according to these guys. Yes, I tell my celebs why I a) love him/her or b) offer some friendly advice. So, I shouldn’t be doing the latter?

I beg to differ. I am ALL about the friendly advice. I fear that so many celebs are just surrounded by “yes” people. Maybe I just sometimes want to be a voice of reason.

Then there are the dead celebrities. I write to plenty of those. Just because they’re in the hereafter doesn’t mean I don’t have a bunch of stuff I want to say to them. Who knows? Maybe they can read my blog?

Anyway, here are my tips on writing fan letters to celebrities.

1) Use cool stationery. Nothing says, OPEN ME, like some beautiful paper. Check these out!

I Love More Cards when you just want to keep it short and simple.

Blue Flora Stationery when you want to be sweet.

Red Florentine Sheets when you wanna be extra classy.

Botanical Paperworks… It’s Alive!

2) Use a good pen… because this is the perfect excuse to buy a really cool pen. What about one of these?

Scrittura Mosaic Metal Ballpoint

Ray Gun Pen

Space Pen

Cross Classic Century Ballpoint

3) Make a special place to write your letters. I write mine on a comfy chaise on my veranda overlooking the ocean… not really. I put on some cool music and curl up in my bed.

4) Think about who you want to write to and why. Do this knowing full well that they may never see your letter. Let’s be honest. You’re writing these letters more for you then for them. That said, make sure you’re totally cool with everything you actually do write because the celeb might actually read it! Also, if you ever plan to run for the U.S. Senate, think about whether or not that “I love you so much, you’ve changed my life forever” sentence really does need to go to Justin Bieber. Think. Hard.

5) I know you’re excited, but try to minimize terms like “freakin’ awesome”, “mind blowing”, “it’s like you know my soul” and “twin flame.” You know what? Just avoid all that mess.

6) You can actually find addresses for celeb managers, agents and publicists if you sign up for IMDB Pro. You get a 14-day free trial and everything. Send your fan letters to one or all of the people who represent your celeb. You can also check out Contact Any Celebrity which also has a pretty impressive database.

Always,

Capra

Yep, she was a reader. Look it up.

I realize that I haven’t written you a proper fan letter and there’s a reason for that. You’re one of the biggies. I mean, you are one of the most important celebrities of all time. I just haven’t had the courage to write to you yet because I know when I do, it will be one of the most intense letters I’ve ever written. I hope it will be as sincere and thoughtful and beautiful as you. I want to ask you some questions and tell you about all the ways I don’t feel right with myself.

But until then, I just wanted to wish you a Happy 85th Birthday. Not many people know this, but you were a curious person with a love of serious literature and culture. In your library they found books by Bertrand Russell, Albert Camus, Chekov and lots more. They even found some diaries (and they published them in a book called Fragments) of yours and, wow, you were smart, curious and had a lot on your mind. You were complicated and terrified of disappointing people. Oh, Marilyn– or should I say Norma Jean– what a strange experience you must have had in your short 36 years on the planet. Half your life, you weren’t loved enough and the other half, maybe people loved you too much and for the wrong reasons. But more on those questions later.

Anyway, Happy Birthday and thank you for this awesome quote:

“This life is what you make it. No matter what, you’re going to mess up sometimes, it’s a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you’re going to mess it up. Girls will be your friends – they’ll act like it anyway. But just remember, some come, some go. The ones that stay with you through everything – they’re your true best friends. Don’t let go of them. Also remember, sisters make the best friends in the world. As for lovers, well, they’ll come and go too. And babe, I hate to say it, most of them – actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can’t give up because if you give up, you’ll never find your soul mate. You’ll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. Just because you fail once, doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail at everything. Keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don’t, then who will, sweetie? So keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life’s a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.”

Always,

Capra

Why is that every time a woman does something in entertainment that doesn’t have to do with being incredibly sexy or dumb, everyone completely freaks out? All of a sudden, she’s riveting or groundbreaking or a pioneer. Seriously? I know plenty of funny women– and not all of them complain about guys and how fat they’re getting. Not all female comedians are building their audiences on PMS jokes and how lonely they are.

A lot of the funny women I know share astute social observations or do pretty good impersonations. I can’t think of any right now, but I know they are there. I think I remember my friend’s Mom doing a Don Rickles act for the PTSA celebrity talent night fundraiser, but OMG it was a tragic mess and so I wouldn’t put her on the winning side anytime soon. But the truth is, I know I laugh more with my girlfriends and aunts than I do with my Dad or guys in general. And for the record, us girls are not all swapping recipes or hair tips and/or studying our “how to confuse and torment guys” manual. We don’t do that until we’re 18 or so.

So basically, I’m not the best movie reviewer in the world. If you want to find out what Bridesmaids is about, go to Fandango.com or IMDB. But I can tell you that I completely enjoyed seeing Kristen Wiig’s pathetic life fall apart on the eve her best friend’s graduation into proper society. Oh, and her love interest was an incredibly adorable Irish guy which, if you’ve been reading my blog, I am a total sucker for.

So, Hollywood, do you get it now? Do you get that you can let the ladies write their own characters and screenplays and let them be themselves and have real, honest problems that are miserably funny just like the guys? Do you get that you don’t have to make God-awful “chick” movies like the 2008 remake of The Women which, in my humble opinion, was maybe the worst movie about women probably ever made? It was just full of silly, cliche ladies stressing out about cheating husbands and fashion and their huge houses. Triple yawn. Do you get that women feel insecure about life not because of the men or lack of men in their lives but because they’ve sold themselves too short in a world that barely lets them be who they really are in the first place?

Look, Bridesmaids wasn’t perfect– but it touched a nerve. Maybe when I’m 26, I’ll look back on Bridemaids and realize that it was the beginning of a new wave in women (wait for it) who get to write about life in ways that (wait for it) pretty much anyone will find funny. You know, my Dad is a huge Albert Brooks fan and I’ve probably sat through Modern Love, Lost in Americaand Defending Your Life maybe 20 times each. Funny stuff. Brooks mostly plays out of sorts losers who really feel dejected and a bit misunderstood. He plays characters who long to be happy and normal. Why are these male themes? They are not. They are for everyone.

So thanks, guys. Thanks for getting over your crippling fear of lady comics and manning up to watch them stumble through a movie in the most refreshing (and not like feminine products) sort of way. This movie has made some serious money and you didn’t even see any boobies. You should be very, very proud. Here’s a cookie.

Always,

Capra

But of course she made her biggest splash as Carol Brady on The Brady Bunch. I’ve only seen reruns, but my mom? She was a pretty big fan back in the day. I’ve actually seen pictures of her in some seriously funky 70s get-ups that involved really ill-fitting pants, big collars and some completely freaky patterns. What the heck was going on? I mean, I almost watched The Brady Bunch more for the confusing fashion choices than I ever did for the “story lines.” Truth be told, I’ve always had a fascination with TV moms since, you know, what they are capable of has always just been so extraordinarily unrealistic– you just want to talk to one of them and see if they really are that kind, well-adjusted, sensitive and sweet. Of course, that would be impossible.

I think if I only had my own mother for thirty minutes a day with commercial breaks, she could be a picture of patience and tenderness too. But real moms have way more than thirty minutes to deal with the craziness that we heap on them every single day. Carol Brady also had help (thanks, Alice), and a totally handsome husband who paid for everything. So in that way, I’m sure characters like Carol Brady totally stressed out our real moms.

But in all honesty, I think being a good mom is really about being who you really are– whatever that is. So don’t be fooled. It’s not necessarily better in Carol Brady’s world.

I think the best moms are ones that let go of perfection and just let themselves be OK with whoever they are. Honestly, we once had dishes in our kitchen for, like, a week when my Mom was writing a children’s book. And the beds weren’t made and there was stuff growing in the fridge. I was about 9 or 10 at the time. And I’m like, “Mom, um, what’s up?” When she told me all about what she was doing, I totally got it. I cleaned the whole house and hoped that someday I could be as cool as her. I got to brag to my friends that my mom was writing a book.

So for kids like me who watched probably a little more than our fair share of TV, Carol Brady was sort of an emotional lifeline to a world where picture perfect homes filled with a rainbow of healthy conflict resolution strategies were the norm. And that was a little comforting. Depending on the day, you could see an example of (then) modern American life as a benchmark for success, or yet another thing none of us could ever possibly live up to. Even though it was a big lie (that’s TV!), it definitely gave me a place to hang my vulnerable little girl emotions when my parents were still figuring out who they wanted to be– without a script.

So, I wanted to write to Mrs. Henderson to thank her for her contribution to American popular culture. A lot of us learned about manners and how to behave from shows like The Brady Bunch while our parents were working, or at a bowling alley or generally just hiding from us (or writing that children’s book). Yes, I understand parking a kid in front of a TV is not an ideal child-rearing strategy. But it was what it was. It didn’t damage us, though I do remember an altercation with my mom about the fact that we never used placemats like the Bradys. Oh, I’m sure she loved being reminded of our placemat deficiencies courtesy of ungrateful child #1.

I also wanted to write to Mrs. Henderson because she was the first woman ever to guest host The Tonight Show, which I think is incredibly cool. She has also appeared on Broadway and was inducted into the Smithsonian Institute’s first permanent Entertainment History Exhibit as one of the greatest pop cultural icons of all time in Nov 2008. That was the same year she got her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Here is my exclusive interview with a TV legend! (It’s sort of short and sweet– just like her!)

CQ: Did you always want to be an actress? Was that always your passion? FH: Yes, I always wanted to be an actress and a musical performer.