Robert Blake Turns Into 121 Year Old Woman

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Actor Robert Blake "aged 50 years" in the moments after his wife was murdered outside a Los Angeles restaurant, a waitress who served the couple testified on Wednesday in the "Baretta" star's murder trial... "He had aged 50 years in 10 to 15 minutes," she said. "Everything about him looked completely different. He was white as a sheet. He was out of breath. He looked like he was having a heart attack."

"And that's not all," testified Robyn Robichaux, the waitress at Vitello's restaurant where Blake and his creepy wife, Miss Bonny Lee Bakley, star of whatever, were served. "They were sitting in there favorite booth, the one over to the side of the fireplace, with the big portrait of The Rat Pack. Blake told me once that he used to hang with the rat pack, but I found out that was just a lie. Closest he ever came was drinking a couple Manhattans with Joey Bishop."

"I think it was their favorite booth because you could keep an eye on the door, see if any celebrities walked in. Course we didn't have many top notch celebrities at Vitello's. Max Baer used to come in a lot, and Carol Wayne, rest her soul. But nowadays, Gilbert Gottfried walks in, it's a big event. So the point is, yeah, he was a regular, and we let him have 'the Robert Blake Booth'.  His favorite thing was to come in and find someone sitting in his booth. If he knew he was coming in he would call ahead and encourage us to seat someone there, and when he would walk in he would just scowl and stand there until the diners asked him what was up, and then he'd point to the little brass plaque with his name on it. The Maitre'd would come over and move the folks to another table while Blake smirked. He was a great tipper."

"Anyway, bottom line, he looked fine that night, real dapper. So then, twenty minutes after he leaves, he's back, and I don't even recognize the guy. Wow, has he packed on the years, I couldn't believe my eyes. And not only the age thing, but he's turned into a woman! I guess... I guess it's because you don't really see that many 121 year old men. At least not in this town."

Hey Judge, listen to me for a couple minutes, will ya? I'm asking you very nice, Ms. Schempp, or maybe you'd prefer if I just called you Darlene. Okay, Judge Schempp then, okay, no disrespect intended. So let me tell ya how things are with me. Lousy. Stinkin' lousy. This trial has been playin out for near four years now. Four stinkin lousy years I'm on Entertainment Tonight every day like some dancing monkey that they got me tricked out into. Not too funny, let me tell you, not unless you got one sick sense of humor, and I know you judge, I don't think that's the case with you. So, great. Now they steal my attorney's computer. Big conspiracy to drag it out. Great, just great. I tell ya, every time you think you got it made, old Mother Nature kicks you in the scrotum.

So let me tell you, judge, let me tell you a little about the four ages of Robert Blake. Mickey Gubotosi, that was the birth name. Yeah I'm sure you saw that in all the depositions. That was the first age of Robert Blake. The child actor stage. I was a cute little son of a bitch, yeah I was. What did I know back then? Only kid to be in both 'Our Gang' and 'The Little Rascals'. Ancient history. Try to find a picture of me in em now. Ain't easy. Had my agent buy them all up, many as I could afford, restraint orders on a lot of the rest. Just brought back bad memories for

me. Here I am, a little bit older. They had me play an Indian boy, 'Little Beaver', in the 'Red Rider' movies. I'm stealin a pork chop from Fuzzy Knight right there. For real, man, not in the script. I was hungry. Yeah. Hungry child actor. I was Bobby Blake by then, dancing monkey, always got to be the monkey, and you got me here again, judge. Survival. It was a great life. Yeah. Being locked in the closets and beat up and burned and sexual stuff - and to come out from under it - I mean, it's lovely. I mean, most people like me end up on death row, or in the graveyards, or in prison. You can't lock me up judge. I've always been locked up.

Hey I made it, grew up somehow you know, got myself free, relatively speaking, and then what the hell, I ended up in the Army. Not so bad. This was the second age of Blake. Wish I could call it the golden age. Let's call it bronze, maybe, best of the batch in some ways. I had a girlfriend, pretty young thing, sixteen years old and her daddy decides he's gonna try to get me busted for statutory rape. Yeah, right. Sixteen was legal back then, know what I mean? I was gonna kill him, but I didn't, judge. Had my hand on the gun, feeling perfectly sane, steady, waitin for him to show. When he does, I had it pointed at him, finger on the trigger, steady as can be. But I pussied out. The girl's father, ya know?

Went on from there and just worked, not like a lot of guys, I could always find a gig. Usually played a tough guy, but that was okay. Maybe I didn't have that good of an attitude, but I had a strong work ethic. 1960s, started pulling some quality jobs, good money, just no star turns. Got married along the way, coupla kids. And like I say, I worked. Woulda thought after 'In Cold Blood' that a lot more woulda fallen in my lap, but nah, people hated the character, saw Perry Smith not Robert Blake, didn't see the craft. Critics loved it, but in a way that role was Hollywood suicide.

So that worked out good in that I ended up getting Baretta. Like the third age of Blake. Shit's easy... scuse me, mam. Television's easy, just got to put in the hours. Got an Emmy for that, you believe it? Yeah... Lot's of cash. Kept doin TV after that, whatever they pay for. Divorced the wife. Did Carson. Most money I ever got was about half a day's work. I put a battery on my shoulder and dared you to knock it off. Believe that?

More television, and I'm tellin you the truth, once you start doin TV it's hard to ever get out. Lotta crap, and I just got tired, you know. Been dancing all my life, never got to pull my own strings when I think about it. Last
decent gig I got was in a David Lynch movie. Didn't even have a name. I was the mystery man. And to tell you the truth, not only didn't I understand the character, I didn't understand the movie. Fitting end for a monkey like me, huh. I mean a cinematic end, not like the big finale.

And this is the fourth age now. You know what, judge? I may have killed Bonnie Lee. I may have. I don't think I did it, but God knows plenty's the time that I wanted to. She sure as hell deserved it. Three and a half years is a long time to think. Memories get funny. Mine do, that's for sure. I mean, okay, I'm 71, not a real old man, but I feel pretty ancient inside, ya know? You got me here in this orange suit, and I'm thinkin that you want to be somehow entertained, yeah, one last time. Dance, monkey.