Thank god for Google Maps

I actually found my way to the tree-lined neighborhood of Ron Galella. And I wasn't late! Montville, New Jersey, feels rural and suburban and a much more peaceful haven, I'm sure, than their former digs in Yonkers.

The Galellas mailbox is decorated with bunnies. "Wait, am I at the correct house?" I park on the street instead of using the circular driveway with fountain, which I thought might be rude. I walk up to the large front doors. Inside, I see large mounted black and white prints of Goldie Hawn and Liz Taylor and dozens of other familiar faces. They're resting on easels and almost life-size. Now I know I'm at the right place. I ring the doorbell. No answer. I knock. No answer. I knock loud and hard. A woman answers the door. She's in her bathrobe. "We forgot you were coming," Betty Galella apologizes. Clearly, I've interrupted a relaxing and rainy Saturday afternoon. She's in the kitchen watching television and Ron is downstairs doing some last minute work for a Warhol book he is working on.

While I wait, Betty keeps me company and shows me around. The front of the house is like a gallery. There are countless black and white pictures on the walls, upstairs and downstairs. I look at all of them...Dustin Hoffman, Marlon Brando, Elvis. Each image is an American icon. I think, these pictures will still look great fifty years from now. They're timeless. It makes me think of celebrity culture today and how different it is. Clearly, pictures of Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan will never stand the test of time the way these do. (to be continued...)