There's an old story about legendary director Cecil B. DeMille. CB, as they called him, was preparing to shoot one of his trademark battle scenes. It took a long time to set up, but finally the camera was in place, the set was perfect, and thousands of background actors were poised in the wings. When CB called "Action," the actors charged across the field, cannons fired, props exploded, major destruction was wrought. It was incredible.

When the dust finally settled, CB called to his cameraman, "Good for you?" The cameraman jumped up from a snooze, gave a thumbs up and replied, "Ready when you are, CB!" He'd missed the entire shot.

I thought of that story when I visited CB's gravestone at the Hollywood Forever cemetery, "Resting Place of Hollywood's Immortals." Unless you live in LA, you've probably never heard of this cemetery, but it's right next to Paramount Studios and smack in the heart of Tinsel Town.

The grounds are lovely, peaceful and green, filled with flowering trees and shrubs; one mausoleum (not CB's) has its very own island, surrounded by a pond with water lilies and ducks. If there are relatives or friends "on location" in some exotic locale who can't make the service, the funeral chapel at Hollywood Forever will keep the recently departed in the public eye: It's equipped for live worldwide webcasts of funeral services and tributes, so loved ones won't have to miss a moment of the action.

It's even possible to get a "Forever LifeStory" written through the cemetery, or so the website promises. I tried to read the biography of Eric "Bad to the Bone" Bahl under sample stories and got a pop-up telling me there is no Living Memory written for him or his wife, which doesn't bode well. There wasn't one for Larisa Batsevitskaya either. You remember her, right? There are a lot of Russians, or perhaps Armenians, in this cemetery for some reason, and many have some elaborate grave markers. A man who claimed to have designed several asked if I'd like one, but I told him I'm in no hurry.

Jayne Mansfield, Rudolph Valentino, and Douglas Fairbanks are all buried at Hollywood Forever, where they'll never be late for a casting call. But it was CB's grave that gave me pause.

DeMille was a founding partner of Paramount Pictures, as well as of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. He won a Best Picture Oscar in 1953 for The Greatest Show on Earth. An archetypical Hollywood director, he directed 70 pictures, acted in several, and had a weekly radio show. He was also a writer, established the first commercial airline service to carry passengers on a regular schedule, and was involved with banking.

The director denied persistent rumors that he had testified before the House Un-American Activities Committee, but he was openly critical of "leftist influence" in the unions. Allegedly he ultimately acknowledged the unfairness of the McCarthy blacklist and hired several blacklisted people for The Ten Commandments in 1956.

DeMille was planning a film on space exploration at the time of his death in 1959. What he was doing at the precise moment of death I don't know, but I'm guessing he wasn't snoozing.

Whatever anyone may think of his politics, DeMille led an amazing and full life. I hope when I get that final call for "Action" that mine has been just as full. Of course, the way to make sure that happens is not to snooze on the job.