WENDY LIEBMAN

A private home

Santa Monica, CA

October 28, 2016

Photo credit: Wendy Liebman

I was at a no-holds-barred Halloween house party. On a regular day this venue would pass as a nice, family home on a tree-lined street in Santa Monica, but one weekend a year the house is decorated from top to bottom with ghoulish props that, during the other 51 weeks, sit crammed in a storage unit waiting for their big reveal. This place had now become a frightful house of horrors (on a tree-lined street in Santa Monica).

Chiffon ghosts hung from the ceiling, spiderwebs were in every corner, and there was a life-size rubber corpse laying in the bathtub. People who dressed as zombies mingled freely with sexy cats and escaped prisoners. And then there was the six-foot-tall middle-aged man in ruby slippers. Head-to-toe he was perfectly dressed like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. This event caused a sensory overload, but hats off to the host for his commitment to the holiday.

In the middle of all this, I was sitting at an overly decorated table with my friend, a comedy writer, and his friend, comedian Wendy Liebman. Unlike most Halloween traditions, these two were crafting jokes as they popped up mid-conversation. It was fun to watch the process and witness the birth of a one-liner.

Tonight Wendy came wearing regular street clothes but had a hefty fake bird dangling from her shoulder. A big black crow. She was dressed as a character from the classic Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds and it was supposed to look like she was being attacked. Hers was a high-concept costume which is consistent with her comedic style. During her act, a person has to pay close attention to her subtle delivery or you’ll miss her witty after-thoughts. On this night, however, I had to make a point to ignore the emergency happening near her jugular vein in order to carry on a casual conversation. Things were reversed at this party.

As conversations had a tendency to do during this particular late October, we also talked briefly about the scariest topic of the day: politics. Super Tuesday, 2016, was quickly approaching and we had no idea what we were in for. Trump or Hillary? Of course, polite people typically avoid such charged topics in mixed company but in West LA it was pretty safe to think we were all on the same team. Thankfully, before falling into a deep depression at the thought of our pending future, we turned our attention to sharing pictures and stories of our adorable rescue dogs, and as dogs often do they saved the day. (Oh, right, rescue dogs… Wendy must already have a joke about this.)

While we were on this happier note at this inverted Halloween party, my friend told Wendy about My Celebrity Photo Album. “It’s just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities,” I explained. She liked the twist and was asking questions so I asked if she’d take my picture. “Sure,” she said. She picked up my camera that was sitting on the table and snapped a quick pic. Because there was no flash, the multiple black lights shining down on us were able to continue to do their job, explaining why my white teeth look electric.

In the process of taking the photo, Wendy glanced over my shoulder and noticed her friend standing behind me. Most of the characters at this party weren’t who they appeared to be, but it was Dear Abby. The real one! Wendy called her over. That brought our photoshoot to a quick stop, but it opened up a brand new opportunity with Miss Abby. Once she made it over to our table Wendy told her about my idea and so began a fresh story.

I was feeling pretty lucky to be endorsed by the two comics I was sitting with. By each of them telling their respective friends about me all I had to do was sit back and smile.

Several months later, I went with our same common friend to Wendy Liebman’s Locally Grown Comedy show in Studio City. He reintroduced us saying, “Wendy, you remember Rebecca…” She said, “Yes, hi. You’re the photographer, right?” I was extremely flattered that she remembered me but I had to correct her, “Ahhh… No, (grasshopper). You’re the photographer.”

Thanks so much for the photo, Wendy. It was fun hanging out with you under those black lights and I'm glad you made it home safely. That murderous raven looked quite determined while it sat perched in an attack position.