MEL GIBSON

Santa Monica Homeopathic Pharmacy

Santa Monica, CA

November 3, 2000

Photo credit: Mel Gibson

It was a breezy Friday afternoon and I was at a local homeopathic pharmacy. The store was filled with herbs, extracts, pills, and potions that claimed they could heal my worrisome ailments, and crystals with metaphysical powers were also available to balance my chakras. Hanging high on the wall was a monstrous collection of glossy headshots that had been autographed by the megastars who support this place. It was an impressive lineup. With one quick glance, I spotted two NBA Hall of Famers and former LA Lakers' MVPs, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Magic Johnson, situated right next to Academy Award-winning film director and action hero, Mel Gibson.

I hadn't seen an employee and as far as I could tell I was the only person in the store. But while I was admiring the photos a guy snuck in under my sightline and crouched down near my feet to get a closer look at some supplements. I thought it was odd that he kept to himself so much as he was kind of in my personal space, but maybe he was having a bad day. Perhaps a little organic Ashwagandha could have helped with that.

I noticed his profile and thought he looked like Mel Gibson but that notion was quickly abandoned. I figured I must have Mel on the brain since I just saw his photo on the wall. From my point of view, the most I could see of this guy was his hair. He didn't have 'Lethal Weapon' hair. That would have been too easy. No, this guy's hair was short and almost grey.

This could have gone either way however, so I waited. I wanted to hear him talk. That'd be the clincher. I knew Mel Gibson had an Australian accent and figured if this guy did too, we were in business.

A female employee appeared with a basket for me to hold my accumulation of bottles. Sneaky Pete down there already had a basket that he was busy filling. I thanked her and faked interest in more vitamins so I might get another clue about the man I was standing above. The helpful employee slipped back into the netherworld and soon the mystery man carried his remedies to the counter to check out. I followed because really, I had also finished shopping. The two of us created a checkout line but we still needed a checker.

He heaved his very full basket up on the counter then turned to me and, making small talk, he said, "It really rattles." I smiled at the confirmed Aussie and said, "Yeah, mine too." "This rattles more," he said. He had decided I wasn't much of a threat and looked around for someone, anyone, to help us.

After a minute or so of polite distance, I said, "Um, can you do me a favor?" His facial expression responded with 'Darn! I thought I thought she was harmless.' But he politely said, "Okay." I said, "Well, I have this celebrity photo album..." Again, he was clearly thinking 'LAME!' but I continued, "It's just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities. Could you take my picture?" "Sure," he said, looking totally unimpressed.

I gave him my camera and his eyes lit up with a smile. "Can it be of anything?" he asked. "Yeah! I just have to be in it." Now the wheels were turning. "That could be a dangerous thing you're asking for," he cautioned then backed up to take a traditional photo of me. The next thing I knew, approximately six employees were watching from behind the counters, all with big hopeful smiles. Where did they come from? I said, "It could be of my hair or just my hand." I stretched my arms out to the sides. "Whatever you want." He said, "Can it be of just your toes?" I said, "Yeah!" and I did a 'Ta-Da!' move showing off my toes.

He took a photo and handed my camera back. Then after deep thought, he carefully started to share his opinion.

“This is……a……pretty good idea.” He seemed to be considering it from all angles and paused between words. He wanted to make sure he meant exactly what he was saying. Then, gingerly, he continued with a compliment, “….I don’t know that anyone....has ever done this before.” I said, “Yeah, that’s what I hear. That’s the idea, really. To do something different.”

He seemed pleased to have heard an original idea from a regular person on the street (or in a homeopathic pharmacy, to be more specific). A lot of things are different in a place like this. There's something about the scent of patchouli wafting through the air. Just the thought of it makes me want to take off my makeup, light a vegan candle, and strike a yoga pose.

I told him I wanted to publish this idea once I had a solid collection, and then I did a little on-the-job research. "Do you think I would have to get celebrities to sign a release?" "I don't think so," he said, "Well, maybe... No, probably not. But people won't believe I took the picture." "But you did," I said. He continued, "You would need some sort of identification for proof, like my license or papers." I paused and said, "I wouldn't ask you for that, Mel." (In my world, we were on a first-name basis.) Just then a second checker opened and I headed over. Maybe they wanted me to leave their famous customer alone.

This was not the Mel Gibson we know from news reports. This was the earlier model. The Mel 2000. He was quiet and polite, but I sensed there was something big brewing below the surface.

He completed his purchase first and with a rattling bag in hand, smiled as he walked past me and out the door. He seemed tired of his fame.

Thanks for the photo, Mel. I am overjoyed that you like this idea and I appreciate your input. If we ever run into each other again, maybe near the white sage smudge sticks, my name is Rebecca.