You’ll forgive me if I’m a little shorter than usual today, which given my stature is all the more significant. I’ll be spending a few hours this afternoon at Forest Lawn attending a funeral of someone I haven’t seen in more than 35 years and barely knew in the first place. And I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.
I could likely count on my fingers the number of times I’ve ever been in the same room with Germaine Grossi, and judging by the obituary the famed final destination for so many Los Angelenos with ties to the entertainment industry provided on their website it sure seems like they didn’t know her all that well, either:
Germaine Rotondella Grossi, 77, born November 6, 1948, in Hoboken, NJ, passed away peacefully surrounded by family at home in Hidden Hills, CA on January 21, 2026. She was a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, and a beloved presence to many.
The daughter of an Italian-born father and a Pennsylvania-born mother, Germaine was one of seven children. Germaine met her husband Len as teenagers, and they shared 63 years together, married for 57 of those years…She is survived by her husband Len; her sons Lenny (wife, Kira) and Steven (wife, Nikki); her grandchildren Olivia, Alexandra, Hannah, and Leonard; her siblings Vita, Janet, and Frankie; and extended family and friends.
When I would see Germaine it was usually as Len’s plus one at various events for my first California-based employers , Metromedia Producers Corporation. I mused about those earliest days when the 40-year milestone was reached last spring; in case you missed it you can re-relive those adventures today for context. Len was first little more than a colleague in business affairs that seemed to take a liking to me because like him I was a New York area expat. Make no mistake though–Len is Jersey Italian through and through, a proud alumnus of Fairleigh Dickinson University after serving his country with a stint in Vietnam. Len had found his way westward a few years earlier when he got the chance to work for Paramount Television’s syndication division at arguably its greatest growth point. He was deeply involved in the details that brought ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT to life, including overseeing the purchases and installations of the first-ever satellite dishes for many of its licencees. He was recruited to MPC and given the opportunity to work more extensively with its global catalogue, which was a lot more impressive than the drek it was attempting to sell stateside. Metromedia had the international rights to a host of Aaron Spelling series and made-for-TV movies above and beyond DYNASTY, which was television’s number one show when I joined the company. Len shephered those properties and was also the point man who took on the herculean task of herding five potent yet disparate station groups through an alliance called The New Program Group that was supposed to fill the void for off-network comedies that the outsized primetime success of DYNASTY had caused. Their first and ultimately their only effort was the anything-but-lamented and laughably cheaply produced SMALL WONDER, which to this day remains a punchline for any child of the 80s. But as we’ve detailed before, the show was a true hit with those children at a time when they could dictate what a household was watching long before multiple screens and devices created limitless possibilites. 
My musing last spring detailed how I got here; what I left out what was got me to stay. When the sale of Metromedia to Rupert Murdoch’s fledgling FOX empire was announced MPC was dragged into dead man walking status. Len was put in charge to essentially oversee its last days. Many of the company’s more mercurial leadership began to leave one by one, hardly a positive environment for someone who had just made a life-changing cross-country move. Included in that list was the guy who somehow got hired as my direct supervisor–a position that was never mentioned to me when I interviewed back East. But when he moved on I was elevated to head of my department–a whopping two people–and began working more closely with Len. Nevertheless, with all of the other departures I still got wanderlust of my own and at a time when syndication was rapidly expanding and I was young, cheap talent I actually was in demand. I interviewed for a gig with another small distribution company run by a shady group of Egyptians whose claim to fame at the time was an inexplicably high rated mini-series called SHAKA ZULU and a toy-driven afternoon cartoon called ROBOTECH. The executive committee–the owner of the company and his daughter–made me an immediate offer late one steamy Friday afternoon, and like a dope I accepted.
When I went into the office Monday morning to tell Len he was both angry and disappointed. He revealed to me that despite what the office scuttlebutt had otherwise been he was personally in meetings with both Murdoch and Barry Diller, who he knew quite well from his Paramount days. He rattled off the hidden value we had and educated me to the troubles that 20th Century FOX’s syndication division was having in the wake of M*A*S*H ‘s cancellation and the box office failures of many of their theatrical releases during the notorious Marvin Davis regime. They arguably needed us more than we needed them. He confided that he was going to have a significant role with 20th and that he had identified a select few of his direct reports to come along for the ride, and that I was one of them. He also shared some discouraging stories about the SHAKA ZULU family that he had picked up from the international community that knew them, reinforcing in me a distrust not to immediately believe gregarious Meditteraneans with their toes dipped into cheap animation. (That insight helped me better deal with Haim Saban years later, BTW).
I thought a lot more than twice about that meeting and while I drove past the storied FOX lot on my commutes the lure of actually setting foot there was awakened in me. The fact that Len was personally assuring me I would survive whatever would unfold based on the confidence he had for his own life–which at the time included first and foremost being the breadwinner for Germaine, Lenny and Steven resonated. And when the three of them turned up in his office to meet Len for lunch while I was waiting for him to come out of a meeting down the hall Germaine noted that I shared a first name with her baby boy (she called him Stevie, just like my grandmother did me) and that was probably why her husband liked me. I took that as an omen.
The next morning I told Len I was going to make up a cock-and-bull story about family priorities and as gracefully as possible inform the SHAKAs that I would be unable to join them if he would allow me to stay at Metromedia. He smirked and said “You’re on. But if you ever try to leave again I’ll break both your legs”. As I’ve come to know even more through the ensuing years, when a Jersey Italian threatens you, you’d better damn well listen.
Len Grossi meant an awful lot to me in those turbulent first months. And Germaine Grossi meant the world to him, and him to her. That alone is reason enough for me to show up this afternoon to support him as he heartbreakingly bids her farewell.
Truth be told, it’s been at least three decades since I’ve even seen Len. Career paths diverged and, as you know, a couple of far less successful marriages than his distracted me for a goodly amount of that time. And then, COVID. Len was an especially cautious soul; the caveman-like mane he grew when a majority of us couldn’t see a barber has remained with him. My online requests to reconnect when my dance card finally opened up were politely declined with the promise that “when things got back to normal, we’ll make a date”. Sometimes, life never does get back to normal for some of us. This isn’t the first time that it took a funeral for me to actually see someone IRL, and I have a hunch it won’t be the last.
Which to me reinforces the necessity for me to be among Germaine Grossi’s mourners. To at least thank her and her family for the impact they made on my life and in some small way help them through arguably one of the most difficult points in theirs. And it also reignites my frustration with the damn pandemic and how it has destroyed the very foundation of human connection which I for one consider vital to our experience on this planet. I know this serves as a reminder to me to try that much better to let people know what you think of them and why while you can.
And it’s also a heartfelt plea to those of you who may still have similar reservations and priorities that life is indeed short and it’s high time we all at least made an attempt to connect and reconnect. There are definitely more enjoyable venues to do that in besides Forest Lawn. I sure hope that will the case with Len. Once things do indeed get back to “normal”, if they ever do.
Until next time…