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Jamaica, Queens’ Curtis Jackson. His father he never knew. His mother died in a mysterious fire when he was 8. The street kid peddled drugs at 12. Now he’s the hotshot bigshot 50 Cent and producing TV’s new series “For Life.” Doing double-trick as actor and producer, it’s bringing his real-life prison time to ABC-TV. …
Jamaica, Queens’ Curtis Jackson. His father he never knew. His mother died in a mysterious fire when he was 8. The street kid peddled drugs at 12. Now he’s the hotshot bigshot 50 Cent and producing TV’s new series “For Life.”
Doing double-trick as actor and producer, it’s bringing his real-life prison time to ABC-TV. The star is a Brit named Nicholas Pinnock.
This true story’s based on Isaac Wright Jr., wrongfully convicted of running a big-time drug ring. Behind bars Wright studied law, ended up repping himself and won his case. Assisting others, he’s lowered sentences and reversed convictions.
Back story. Curtis Jackson was arrested. Selling cocaine. Then again for possession of heroin, crack cocaine and possession of a pistol. Claiming he did not do coke, six months upstate in a NY bootcamp sideswiped the longer-term prison sentence. He picked the name 50 Cent as some sort of metaphor for change.
The series was filmed in a real jail. The Queens Detention Facility in Jamaica. Playing both prisoner and gang member in this TV production — his episodes haven’t been shown yet, and his appearance is supposedly being kept secret.
Included were his real experiences behind bars: “I worked in the kitchen. Serving food. There was a code. An inmate didn’t like a certain dish, he’d signal to give only a little. If he liked it, he’d gesture for a lot.
Because I didn’t like most of them, I always gave a lot of the dishes they didn’t want just to mess with them.”
NYC is still the best place to be
B.C., Before the coronavirus, crosstown from the UN to the Javits took so long that at Seventh Avenue you needed a bathroom break. Today the streets have less action than the Dead Sea. We’ve had 1911’s Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, the Eastern Airlines flight of ’75, and that’s before we even talk about the subways.
We’ve had the shortest mayors, sleaziest politicians, crowdedest tunnels, richest bums, highest buildings, smallest apartments, largest taxes, heaviest traffic, classiest restaurants, nastiest cabbies, crappiest service, dirtiest streets, snottiest assistants, tallest thieves, smartest lawyers, busiest doctors, bumpiest streets, greasiest franks, fattest Nadler, junkiest transportation, wealthiest stock market, slummiest neighborhoods, toughest laws, ritziest shopping, brightest lights, costliest markets, savviest brokers, cleverest peddlers, crowdedest buses, dumbest laws — and 9/11’s deadliest disaster — like we haven’t had other problems?
And . . . so. . . where else you want to live? Downtown Albuquerque?
Hamps status
Some chickens schlepped east. The Hamptons’ newly emptied supermarket King Kullen looks like a scene from “Dunkirk.” Joe Phair of the watering hole Bobby Vans, now doing takeouts, feeding New York Housewives, Bill Hemmer, Matt Lauer, Jimmy Fallon, A-Rod plus whatsername, and says: “At our city’s 50th Street location, patrons are moving tables 6 feet apart from one another.”
How far a mighty fell
H. Weinstein’s reached out to pal J. Bezos. The biggest producer; the richest man. Years back, I met Bezos at Hollywood’s A-1 location — Harvey’s personal table at his usual Oscar eve VIP party. The now-convicted Harvey ruled the room like a king. Shloompy Bezos sat shriveled like a nerd. More than the clocks have changed.
PR man Robert Zimmerman’s a bundler who often bleats for the Democrats on TV. His religion is: devout partygoer. Before this CV, he hit every get-together since Coolidge’s baptism. A marshmallow roast in Arkansas, and if he hadn’t gotten a Save the Date — his face would break out.
Seeing him now schlepping groceries into his apartment, a neighbor asked: “A party?” Zimmerman: “No, dinner.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.
