Ken Makes a New Life
It's hard to believe that it has been over three years since this golden couple publicly spilt. Barbie continues in the spotlight, her recent movies are staples at movie rental stores across the world. Let's face it, Barbie is a doll, and she'll be in spotlight as long as her long, blonde hair and athletic legs represent all that is good about America.
However, Ken is a much different story. At the time of the breakup with Barbie, his publicist put on a brave front, talking about taking Ken's career in new directions. Unfortunately, those rosy possibilities for Ken simply haven't panned out.
Ken was seen occasionally at L.A. clubs for a while, but drifted from view over time. Without Barbie, he always seemed ill at ease at these glitzy functions, but perhaps he always felt out of place.
In the three years since parting ways with Barbie, the work was slow in coming for Ken. He left his agent and publicist, and fell from sight.
With a little detective work, I caught up with Ken, who now lives in downtown Los Angeles, in a small apartment that overlooks the Hollywood freeway. The apartment complex is far removed from the glamour of Bel Aire, built in the 60's, the building is in need of a major renovation. Several residents were in the lobby when I entered. Perhaps retirees, they sat in an assortment of frayed chairs that faced a window that overlooked the parking lot.
I reached Ken's 10th floor apartment and rang the bell. Ken had seemed surprised when I called him the previous day, he didn't think that readers would be interested in a story about him now. I assured him that was not the case, and we set up a meeting time.
When Ken opened the door, there was an unexpected awkwardness in our greeting. This was Ken, America's former golden boy, now living in a linoleum-floored room, a single bed pushed against a far wall. His famous face, once referred to as plastic, was lined. He had aged quickly in three years.
After we sat down and exchanged pleasantries, I asked him how he was doing.
"Well, needless to say, it's been a period of adjustment. I've gotten use to this new life of mine, everything changes, I'm just trying to go with the flow," Ken said.
"What are your plans for the future? Do you plan to return to modeling"?
"No," he said simply, "those days are in the past." He paused and then added, "I've got a recording project in the works. Something I can't talk about yet, it's still in progress."
"Do you talk to Barbie since the split"? I regretted the question as soon as I asked it.
"No," he said, almost in a whisper, then his eyes took on a new life, and for a moment his face became animated, and youthfulness returned. "Did you tell her that you were coming to see me"?
“No, I answered,” and I watched his shoulders slump in despair. We talked for a few more minutes. We covered, sports, politics, anything but Barbie. After a while, we fell silent, the only sound was the traffic from the Hollywood freeway. I got up, and told him thanks for taking the time to see me. He did not walk me to the door, it seemed like the energy had drained from his body.
After I was in the hallway, I shook my head. It has been said before, but Hollywood can be a cruel town.
