The terse "We f---ed up" from Bob Beitcher, newly appointed CEO of the Motion Picture & Television Fund, was not as much an admission of guilt as a clue to the mindset that is running the malt shop they refer to as the Motion Picture Home.
To encapsulate the missteps, fallacies, shoddy treatment of residents, mismanagement, hostility and cover-ups as a "f--k-up" is like Gene Hackman, as the evil Captain Ramsey, uttering "oops" when pressing the button that unleashes the nuke in "Crimson Tide."
Fortunately, the good guy, played by Denzel Washington, stepped in to stop Ramsey, who was hellbent on following a misguided directive.
We realize that it's only a movie. However, we could use Denzel about now to help us stop the detonation of the Long Term Care unit. The evil commandant is gone, but Seth Ellis, who is seemingly second in command to the departed and defamed David Tillman, definitely has his finger on the button, or up somewhere dark and personal as he awaits the command to unleash his misguided directive.
And although Tillman is gone, unfortunately Ellis remains. For now.
The departure of Tillman may be only a smokescreen that obscures the field where the former understudy now can take center stage and summon the grim reaper on more of our residents.
The dismantling of end-of-life services at the Motion Picture Home will bring the curtain down on the future of long-term care for the elderly of the entertainment industry. "Successful aging" and "aging at home" are empty terms coined by vagrants who stand in the shadows of the doorway to motion picture and television healthcare while they beg for attention with signs saying "We Are Starving...," but the other sign they don't show completes the thought: "...the elderly."
They have no business minding our store.
As I roamed the grounds of the Motion Picture Home the other day with a friend, I was thinking how wonderful this environment was. We saw a woman walking beside her husband, who was in an electric wheelchair. They parted company with a kiss. We remarked how sad it would be were either of them to need 24-hour skilled nursing care, which would separate them.
Breaking the reverie, here comes Seth Ellis putting around in a golf cart while squiring two VIPs. I gave him the sign of the cross, and he mouthed a hearty "F--k off!" to me. The guests accompanying him on his journey were barely able to conceal their amusement.
This refreshing dose of reality brought my mind back to our situation. The beauty of the surroundings was in jeopardy. Relationships that have withstood the test of time were in jeopardy of being torn asunder, as we found out with Scott Wainess' parents. The wicked witch was driving a golf cart, not a broomstick. We are not in Kansas anymore.
We are dealing with different people, some good, some bad. The good ones engage us in earnest discussions and shake our hands. They recognize that we are on a mission to save the fund.
