Heath Ledger

We here at Curtin's Corner pride ourselves at never (ok, rarely) taking a cheap shot, especially at someone who's not around to defend himself, so rest assured, this post pokes no fun at Heath Ledger. I didn't know him, I can't say for sure if I ever saw him in a movie, and I don't know much about him other than he was a good-looking Australian actor who seemed to prefer avoiding the Hollywood "scene" (actually, for this last reason alone, he was ok in my book, even though I didn't know this about him until I read the stories following his death. Call it a posthumous thumbs up). So, I will not mock the dead. I just hope he didn't commit suicide, because he seemed to have a lot going for him with an A-list movie career and a baby daughter going for him, at a minimum. (Incidentally, how is one a suicide "victim" exactly? Victim to me implies that some outside act or actor had something to do with causing your harm. If you off yourself, it occurs to me that you are not a victim at all. Yet, I digress).

But how about the reaction of the maid and the masseuse? Now there is a pair I can make fun of. I completely understand the maid not disturbing Heath (he's dead now, so I can go first name right?) when she first got there. His bedroom door is closed, he's a Hollywood actor type who may like to entertain (ahem) female guests (or male for that matter, I'm not judging - maybe "Brokeback Mountain" awoke previously slumbering tendencies), or party into the wee hours and sleep in - no problem. But, when the masseuse arrives and they finally decide to disturb him, the reaction is nothing short of comedic genius:

Maid, "Heath is not waking up!"
Masseuse, "And he's a pale blue color!"
Maid, "He doesn't appear to be breathing!!"
Masseuse, "My God, we have to call....Mary Kate Olsen!!!

Now, I am trained in CPR and First Aid (true story), but I must have been absent the day the Red Cross taught us to call Mary Kate Freaking Olsen if I encounter an unresponsive, unconscious person! Seriously, Mary Kate Olsen?? Putting aside any issues I may or may not have with the vapid, talentless, anorexic, useless Olsen twins, but if you are the maid and/or masseuse and you are in your employer's apartment, and you have found said employer unconscious, unresponsive, not breathing and blue, and your first thought is to call Mary Kate Olsen? Is this a Hollywood thing? Is she known in the industry as the "go to" person in case of emergency? Or did they scroll through his cell phone contact list and debate the merits of the people they found and decided that Mary Kate was the best of the lot? And if, so, how many names did they hit before they reached the M's (or O's for that matter)?

Maid, "What about Armando Assante? No? Brian Benson? No?, Josh Brolin?... C, D, E, F, G - how about Mel Gibson? I mean, he's Australian and likes Heath - should we call Mel?" Masseuse, Wait!! I've got it - I'm calling Mary Kate Olsen, she'll know what to do!!"

I just can't get past the fact that Mary Kate Olsen somehow ended up as their choice. And she was in Santa Monica freaking California when they called!! (Just to recap, unconscious guy, not breathing, in New York City - let's get someone in California on the horn asap!) But, I'm being petty I know, because Mary Kate Olsen completely validated their faith in her by advising them that she'd be sending...her team of four bodyguards. I can just hear an unconscious Heath now: "Mary Kate's four bodyguards are on their way? Thank God, for a second I was in real trouble here."

I mean, this was quickly becoming an idiot contest and Mary Kate somehow lost! Any normal person would have said (well, you know what any normal person would have said so I won't insult your intelligence...but just so I can complete the thought), "Hang up and call 911! Hang up and call EMS!! Hang up and call the fire department, police!!" But, no, not that emergency crisis management guru Mary Kate Olsen - she is going to send her crack team of four bodyguards over. Poor Heath didn't stand a chance if this mensa meeting was deciding his fate.

One last thought, the ultimate lesson here is - actually, the ultimate lesson is not to surround yourself with idiots - but the penultimate lesson here is that if you are famous you should always be nice to your neighbors - because if you die a tragic death and the newspaper reporters show up, your neighbors will have a lot to do with how you are remembered. Think of the power Heath's neighbors wielded in the hours after his death - they could have crushed the guy! He's not around to defend himself and a reporter sticks a microphone into the face of a disgruntled neighbor? "Well, Heath used to get his mail in a pink babydoll negligee and white thigh high stockings, but otherwise he was pretty quiet. Well, except for all of the satanic chanting, but that was only every other day."

Rest in Peace, Heath. Your fatal flaw appears to be the intelligence of the people with whom you surrounded yourself.