This much is clear: the Code of Eastwood serves you well. Earning ‘it’ serves you well – even when it doesn’t seem like it. Eastwood recalls a house party he hit up with his sister. He was 16. “I had taken my younger sister, who was, like, 14, to this party. I left, maybe to go get beer with the guys. And I left her and I didn’t think about it at the time. Later, Dad found out that I’d left her there.” Clint Eastwood, all six-foot-one of him, slammed his teenage son against a wall. He wrapped his sinewy hands around Scott’s throat. And then he punched him, square in the face. “He popped me and said, ‘You don’t ever leave your sister at a party. EVER.’ And it was very old-school, very old-school of him. He wasn’t afraid. None of this new-age bullshit where you can’t even smack the kid because everyone’s afraid of being judged or whatever. That wasn’t the way that shit went down in that family... If you did something wrong, you were going to get punished. I learnt quickly – you don’t do that.” Considering how children of Hollywood royalty tend to turn out, it’s a minor miracle that Scott Eastwood isn’t a shitty person. Objectively, he’s actually pretty great.
Click to revisit the heyday of Chelsea's 8th Avenue
My blog is featured in Susan Olsen's tell-all about the ill-fated "Brady Bunch Variety Hour"!
Growing up in Madison Heights, Mich.
The Web leads to an unexpected return to a house I grew up in.
Carlsbad, Calif. (2008)
Go Behind the Music of my high-school band, A La Plage
Little Larry left us too soon.
With Debbie Harry
With Robert Buckley
With Roger Federer
With Ed Burns
With Thomas Roberts
You've read the blog -- now read the book!
My memoir is available at Three Lives & Co. in the West Village
Like my book on Facebook here.
