Friday, May 30, 2003 | 9:49 a.m.
Pigs were flying, hell was freezing over and Martha Stewart was sitting at an unadorned banquet table nibbling on cold cuts and cole slaw.
There wasn't a decorative centerpiece, fresh flower or name card in sight. The table's most creative display was its unlikely mix of personalities: Gilligan, who sat next to Keanu Reeves, who sat next to Siegfried, who sat across from Travis Tritt, who sat near Joan Rivers.
Grumbling about NBC's recent movie, "Martha, Inc.," Stewart picked at her lunch and confided softly, "Thank God for the mustard and tomatoes. Otherwise the plate would be bland.
"We won't even talk about how the table looks. But what do you expect, really?" That Stewart was even present in a mismatched Las Vegas banquet room Monday afternoon indicated the driven entrepreneur wasn't exactly herself that day literally.
She was Deborah Jenkins from Westport, Conn., who looks so much like the crafty blonde she can hardly convince people she isn't.
Along with the more than 130 celebrity look-alikes who attended the Celebrity Impersonators Convention this week at Imperial Palace, Jenkins chose to capitalize on her resemblance to Martha Stewart; she became Deborah Jenkins, celebrity impersonator.
"I was teaching seminars and corporate training," the former stockbroker said. "Every time I went to a seminar, people would tell me about this Martha Stewart. And I didn't even know who she was."
Ten years later Jenkins is four months into her routine and mixing with other look-alikes who came to network, sit in on seminars and meet potential agents and managers.
They are the cubic zirconias of the diamond world, deceptively shining like stars at a four-day convention where uncanny was the operative word.
Discussions focused on ethics, self-promotion and legalities within the industry, mixed with well-timed wisecracks by audience members Jack Nicholson, Kramer from "Seinfeld," two Kenny Rogerses, Snoop Dogg and Ed Sullivan.
At Monday's seminar Hank Williams Sr. echoed Arnold Schwarzenegger's speech on integrity by declaring, "We have to stay within the image of the personality. Elvis has gotten to be a joke. They have him flying out of helicopters."
Listening intently, George W. Bush slipped his feet out of his loafers as Sandra Bullock nibbled on her lunch.
Rodney Dangerfield was unusually quiet. Alan Jackson followed one of two George W's out for a snapshot. Tony Soprano looked around for more iced tea while Tom Jones ushered a pitcher of water to Britney Spears.
From the back of the room, a dressed-down Anna Nicole Smith attempted to exempt herself from heeding the rules of ethics.
"As you all know, I play someone who's not ethically correct," she said assertively. "I can act like a moron."
Being and someone-ness
Anna Nicole is really Jeanine Gearity, a buxom former dental hygienist from New York who began impersonating the sloppy reality television star and once-Playboy Playmate nine months ago after a camera crew approached her in Manhattan, mistaking her for the celebrity.
As with many impersonators, Gearity said, ethics come into play when an impressionist is asked to do something completely out of the character of the person being portrayed.
"I get tons of stuff, porn. I'm talking millions of dollars," she said, referring to job offers. "But I can't do that."
Even so, Gearity says she enjoys a lucrative career as Nicole. She stars as an Anna look-alike in television commercials and shows, performs at corporate events, revues and at a venue in Lake Tahoe.
To professionally become Nicole, Gearity said she gained 27 pounds, began marketing herself and will undergo plastic surgery to further her resemblance. Her career as in impersonator, she said, is shooting upward.
"I do this for a living now. But I'm aggressive."
Gearity switched careers at a relatively young age. Others cross over later in life.
Jack English, a 58-year-old sales trainer from Scottsdale, Ariz., has just begun his career as an impersonator, even though he's known for decades that he resembles Jack Nicholson.
"As soon as 'Five Easy Pieces' came out I got a phone call from my aunt who said, 'Jackie, You've got to see this movie, you look just like this guy,' " English said.
Now he plans to work trade shows, conventions, parties and television.
"I'm going to retire on this," English said.
Star is born
Making a decent living is possible if an impersonator is good, said Elyse Del Francia, who founded the convention three years ago as a way to improve industry standards and connect impersonators with agents.
"There's decoy work. There's doubles work," said Del Francia, who lives in Las Vegas and Palm Springs, Calif. "When they can't afford the real one, they call us."
Her agency, Celebrity Look-A-Likes by Elyse (celebrityimpersonators.com), represents more than 650 look- and sound-alikes, including Bill and Hillary Clinton, George W. and Laura Bush, Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera.
With a star born every minute, new impersonators shoot into the spotlight all the time. Most often, Del Francia said, people become impersonators after years of hearing that they look like somebody famous.
Following a recent newscast highlighting the conference and its attendees -- Snoop Dogg, Austin Powers, Britney Spears and Ozzy Osbourne -- her telephone began ringing.
"I must have had eight phone calls from people who saw the show -- everyone from a Gladys Knight look-alike to a Snoop Dogg look-alike in Massachusetts whose sister lives in Las Vegas and saw the segment," Del Francia said. "You never know where they're going to come from. They come out of the woodwork."
Crossing over
Brent Mendenhall whittled his way out of the woodwork when George W. Bush began his presidential campaign.
After years of hearing he looked like the former Texas governor, the Nevada, Mo., resident switched from being a construction and marketing executive to a humorist/impersonator appearing on television specials and at corporate banquets.
At such banquets, Mendenhall said, "They don't know who's coming on. When the time comes, I have a CD that plays 'Hail to the Chief.' The music is my cue to burst into the room with Secret Service agents.
"I fool 'em for a few seconds, then they get it. Then I give a 20- to 30-minute humorous political speech ... Four years ago I thought, 'I've got another 15 years left on my construction career.' "
Now, he said, "I do this 80 to 90 percent of my time."
Bill Peterson, a former restaurateur in Boston, fell into a career as a Rodney Dangerfield look-alike after retiring nearly 10 years ago.
"First it was the voice," said Peterson, a tall, silver-haired, beefy retiree with a deep voice. "The more you do the voice, the more you start to look like him."
Soon enough Peterson was filling in between the music acts at his restaurant as Dangerfield. Eventually, people came just to see him.
"From there it just took off," Peterson said. "I'm all over the East Coast. I sold my business and I'm busy as hell. I get calls every week."
He's having a blast, he said. But his wife is tired of seeing him sign autographs every time they go out for dinner.
"There's a lot of guys who can talk like Rodney," Peterson said. "There's a lot of guys who look like Rodney. But there's nobody that looks and acts like Rodney. I love it. It's not the money -- even though it's good money. It's making people laugh." It's making people laugh."
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