Scott Baio, not a rocket scientist but co-star of Erin Moran from “Happy Days” and “Joanie Loves Chachi,” doesn’t have much sympathy for the actress who died over the weekend. Reports now are that Moran was in stage 4 of some kind of cancer. Baio, famous for being a Trump celebrity supporter, pretty much kicked Moran to the curb on a radio show.

On WABC Radio’s “The Bernie and Sid Show,” Baio said: “I’m OK, a little shocked but not completely shocked that this happened. My thing is, I feel bad because her whole life, she was troubled, could never find what made her happy and content. For me, you do drugs or drink, you’re gonna die. I’m sorry if that’s cold, but God gave you a brain, gave you the will to live and thrive and you gotta take care of yourself.”

He added: “I’m saddened by what happened. I don’t know if it was drugs that killed her, I read one report said it might have been and I hope it… I don’t know what I hope. It’s what it is. What can you do?”

Unlike Ron Howard, Henry Winkler and the other cast members from “Happy Days”– all of whom mourned their friend– Baio came to bury Moran:

“I knew Erin well, over the last many years I have not spoken with her. She was just an insecure human being and fell into this world of drugs and alcohol. Again, I don’t know if that’s what killed her, I’m sure it was a culmination of years and years of doing it that might have had something to do with it. She just never found her way.”

“How do you help somebody that doesn’t want to help themselves? You try a couple of times and if they don’t want the help, I gotta go, sorry.”

It was only a hot minute ago that everyone wanted to be in the Caitlyn Jenner phenom. She even made the cover of Vanity Fair. The former Olympic athlete Bruce Jenner was the media’s hottest commodity.

But fame is fleeting, and so are novelty acts. Public interest in Jenner seems to be evaporating faster than instant milk. First her reality show on the “E!” channel was cancelled. She was re-assigned back to the Kardashians’ circus of a show.

But things get worse: On Friday, Caitlyn’s interview on ABC with Diane Sawyer was a bust. The show was down 85% in adults 18-49 from the interview Sawyer did her in April 2015. They didn’t even finish first in the time slot on Friday night. Only 4.3 million people watched, down from 17 million two years ago exactly.

Meanwhile, Jenner’s book, “The Secrets of My Life,” is not flying off bookshelves. The book, which is officially published tomorrow, is ranked at 78 on amazon.com. In the Kindle store, it’s number 582.

Tonight, Jenner appears on Tucker Carlson’s new show on Fox News, the one replacing Bill O’Reilly. I do think the trans and LGBTQ audience has left her, considering Jenner’s backing of Donald Trump. She’s going to play to the Fox crowd, and they are certainly not forking over 20 bucks for a book by a gender-changed transsexual. The Fox crowd does not want to hear about genital re-assignment, trust me.

Happy Birthday, Barbra Streisand!

The formidable singer-actress-director-activist-collector turns 75 today. She joins a group that includes Paul McCartney, Carole King, and Aretha Franklin among others.

Who could have guessed in 1942 that so many music legends would be born? And born at such a difficult time, the beginning of World War II for America?

Streisand has boatloads of awards and the devotion of a zillion fans around the world. She’s just about to embark on another tour, this time bringing her back to Brooklyn and then to Long Island for the time ever.

The Way We Were
 

and almost 40 years later…

Streisand in her best movie, What’s Up Doc?

I’ve been to a lot of parties– in New York, Hollywood, Europe, wherever. But the best Hollywood parties are the mythic ones, in a home, where stars let their hair down and the biggest celebrities are just like you and me.

Sandy Gallin, who passed away last week at age 76, hosted such a party in January 2010. In his second career as a superstar house flipper among the rich and famous in Hollywood, Sandy “dressed” houses, then “staged” them for sale. During Golden Globes week in 2010, that’s what he did. And he invited every famous person he knew for a picnic dinner.

How did I get there? It’s hard to remember. A friend knew a friend, and they said, invite him. I was invited, but told I couldn’t write about it. Seemed fair enough. It was an adventure. And during those awards show weeks in Hollywood, it’s nice to get out of the hotel-restaurant world, and sit down in a normal setting.

Where was the house? I could not tell you. It was in Beverly Hills. The nice part. The house was big, and white, and had great views. It was decorated beautifully, but it was very cozy. It was not like Joan Crawford’s house in “Feud” with marble floors and staircases. This was funky chic. The living room was all big white puffy, overstuffed couches and chairs. The dining room had a long rich looking dark wood table for 20. And people moved around unfettered.

I told Jackie Collins I wasn’t allowed to write about any of this. I asked her, Will you? She said, “I already have!”

Sandy Gallin knew everyone in Hollywood, and they all loved him. Elizabeth Taylor had been his close friend. He’d managed Michael Jackson. His Gallin/Morey company was responsible for tens of dozens of success stories. Jane Fonda credited him with putting her together with his client, Dolly Parton, and Lily Tomlin, for “9 to 5.” (Sandy, Dolly is the first to admit, put her over the top as a superstar and icon.) So the guest list, well, this was something to behold.

It’s the only time I have ever been in a room with Jane Fonda, Barbra Streisand, Anjelica Huston and Shirley MacLaine. They were all there, eating with plates on their laps in the living room. Jane was with record producer Richard Perry. Barbra was with James Brolin. Shirley was an entity to herself.  Sisters Jackie and Joan Collins were each there. Extraordinary.

At some point, Elton John came through the front door. I remember sitting with him on the top of the couch (where Jane and Shirley were actually sitting, eating). That was the night he told me he was going to make an album with Leon Russell, and that Russell had been such a huge influence on him. “The Union” was released 10 months later.

Not everyone was an actor. I do remember chatting with Nancy Meyers in the kitchen. Roger Birnbaum, of MGM, was in there, too. There were a lot of people like that, the great behind the scenes talents. The great songwriter Carole Bayer Sager was eating at the long dining table in the narrow dining room between the kitchen and the living room with her husband Bob Daly, who used to run Warner Bros. Bob’s Warner’s cohort Terry Semel was also in there, with his wife, Jane.

One memory: Arianna Huffington explaining to me that, essentially, no one who wrote for the Huffington Post was paid; they depended on that. “Paying for writing is not our model,” she said.

We went on house tours in small groups, guided by handsome young men. The funniest thing about the house was the bookcases. The rooms seemed to have shelves filled with color coded covers. One room was all white books, one was all blue, another all red. Jane Fonda noticed this. She pulled a book off the wall, and opened it. It was all empty pages. She shook her head, and we all laughed. The epitome of Hollywood.

In the middle of this was Sandy Gallin, our host, around whom this all revolved. None of these famous people would have been there if not for him. He had a calming effect on them, a lot like the late agent Ed Limato. Loyalty bound everyone together. This was unusual in a city in which almost no one is loyal. They all had stories about when they met Sandy, and so on. For the first time ever, at that party, I had the feeling Hollywood– at least the Hollywood of the great 1970s, which this group personified– was a community. It was lovely.

It was also a cold night. I do recall sitting by an ottoman near the front door, piled high with fur coats. I can’t say they were real fur. There was a discussion among the ladies about how they were ‘getting away’ with fake fur, too. Soon, the half dozen or great stars were air kissing goodbye and pouncing on the coats. “Joan, this is your coat,” Jackie Collins said, and Barbra Streisand may have said something similar to Shirley MacLaine. There was a simultaneous laugh. Everyone kissed Sandy goodbye, grateful for this moment in time.