After leaving behind his successful career as the host of late-night talk shows, Jay Leno launched a web series on nbc.com (2015 to 2022) about cars.
Jay Leno’s Garage, now appearing to more than 3.7 million subscribers on YouTube, allows the comedian to share his passion for cars and bikes with his audience.
In November 2022, the former Tonight Show host was badly burned when a fire broke out in his Burbank, California garage.
“I got some serious burns from a gasoline fire.” Leno told Variety at the time “I am OK. Just need a week or two to get back on my feet.”
According to reports, the now 74-year-old man was working under a car when the fire sparked. He suffered third degree burns on his face and got a new left ear after losing his first one to the fire.
Unfortunately, his luck didn’t get any better.
Only two months after the fire, he suffered a broken collarbone, two cracked ribs and two cracked kneecaps in a motorcycle accident.
‘Treats Mavis like gold’
Despite his body breaking down with aging, passion-related accidents and high cholesterol, the one thing that holds strong in his life is his love for Mavis, who he married in 1980.
“I always tell guys when they meet a woman, ‘Marry your conscience. Marry someone who’s the person you wish you could be and it works out okay.” Leno tells People of his enduring love with Mavis, now 77.
After 45 years together, the childless couple started facing some hardships.
Mavis was diagnosed with dementia and her condition is rapidly declining.
In April 2024, Leno was granted a conservatorship over his wife’s estate by a Los Angeles Superior Court judge who ruled the measure was “necessary and appropriate.”
According to court documents obtained by Entertainment Tonight, “Mavis has been progressively losing capacity and orientation to space and time for several years.”
The filing also says and “Jay is fully capable of continuing support for Mavis’ physical and financial needs, as he has throughout their marriage,” but her “current condition renders her incapable of executing the estate plan.”
Included in the documents is a statement from her neurologist Dr. Cohen: “Sometimes [Mavis] does not know her husband, Jay, nor her date of birth.”
Cohen, Mavis’ attending doctor at Cedars Sinai, adds that Leno “loves his wife very much” and “treats [Mavis] like gold.”
‘No one lives forever’
Only months later, In Touch reports that Leno is now preparing for his own death, making end-of-life arrangements so his fortunes are delivered to the rightful beneficiaries.
The filing reads: “No one lives forever, and the actions taken by Mr. Leno are reasonable and necessary for his and Mavis’ protection. Mavis does not object to the petition and in my opinion consents to it. Mr. Leno is her protector, and she trusts him. This estate planning is in her best interest and protects her interests.”
Leno’s latest filing details provisions for Mavis’ care and discloses that the couple intends to stay in their home “for as long as reasonably possible,” using their money for “assistance from household employees or caregivers as may be necessary.”
If Leno dies first, “the estate will divide into the Leno Marital Trust…it will have the Leno Collection and any real property housing Leno Collection. It will be irrevocable, and the survivor receives all income, plus principal for reasonable support. After the survivor’s death, after-tax balance will be distributed, along with the Leno Trust to JDM.”
The Leno Collection is Leno’s collection of automobiles and motorcycles, that’s valued at more than $52 million, and any real property.
Leno also instructed the JDM Foundation, a charity he launched in 1988, to open a museum with his automobile collection, and he’s already named the three initial directors.
In addition, Leno is leaving $7 million to Mavis’ brother Rikki Nicholson, who lives next door, and to his nephew Richard Leno.
The court-appointed official said Leno’s amendments to the trust will likely be approved.
It’s hard to imagine a world without Jay Leno! Please let us know what you think and then share this story so we can send Leno and Mavis a lot of love!
Entitled Customer Threw Fresh Juice at Me – I’m Not a Doormat, So I Taught Her a Lesson She Won’t Forget…
When an entitled customer threw her drink in my face, humiliating me in front of everyone, she assumed I’d just take it quietly. Little did she know, she was in for a surprise—and a lesson she wouldn’t forget.
That morning, I stepped into the health food store, the familiar scent of fresh produce and herbal teas greeting me. It was the start of another day at work, where I’d been earning a living for the past year. As I tied my apron, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different today.
“Hey, Grace! Ready for another thrilling day of juice-making?” my coworker Ally joked from behind the counter.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yep, gotta keep those entitled customers happy, right?”
But the knot in my stomach told me otherwise. There was one customer who made our jobs miserable every time she came in.
We had dubbed her “Miss Pompous,” and it was a fitting name. She walked in like she owned the place, treating us like we were beneath her.
As I began my shift, I tried to put her out of my mind. I needed this job. It wasn’t just about me—it was about my family. My mom’s medical bills were piling up, and my younger sister was counting on me to help with college expenses. Quitting wasn’t an option.
A few minutes later, Ally leaned in close. “Heads up,” she whispered. “Miss Pompous just pulled into the parking lot.”
My stomach dropped. “Great,” I muttered. “Just what I needed to start my day.”
The bell above the door chimed, and in she walked, her designer heels clicking like a countdown to disaster. Without even acknowledging me, she strutted up to the counter and barked her order.
“Carrot juice. Now.”
I forced a smile. “Of course, ma’am. Coming right up.”
As I worked, I could feel her eyes on me, scrutinizing my every move. My hands began to shake under the pressure. Finally, I handed her the juice.
She took one sip and her face twisted in disgust. “What is this watered-down garbage?” she screeched. Before I could react, she hurled the entire drink at my face.
The cold juice splashed across my cheeks, dripping down my chin. I stood there, stunned, as she continued to rant. “Are you trying to poison me?” she demanded.
I blinked, wiping juice from my eyes. “It’s the same recipe we always use,” I stammered.
“Make it again,” she snapped. “And this time, use your brain.”
My face burned with humiliation as everyone in the store turned to watch. Tears threatened to spill, but I refused to let her see me cry.
Just then, my manager, Mr. Weatherbee, appeared. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, though his concern seemed more for the loss of a customer than for me.
Miss Pompous turned on him. “Your employee can’t even make a simple juice! I demand a refund and a replacement.”
To my disbelief, Mr. Weatherbee began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. We’ll remake your juice immediately, free of charge.” Then he turned to me. “Grace, be more careful next time.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. My jaw dropped. “But sir, I—”
“Just get the carrots, Grace,” he interrupted, “and remake the juice.”
Miss Pompous smirked at me, clearly enjoying my humiliation. I felt a surge of anger. For a split second, I wanted to throw my apron down and walk out. But then I thought of my mom and sister—I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
So, I took a deep breath and made a decision. I wasn’t going to let her win.
I met Miss Pompous’s gaze, refusing to be intimidated. She thought she could buy respect with her money, that she could trample over people without consequences. Well, not this time.
As Mr. Weatherbee walked away, I reached into the fridge, bypassing the usual carrots. Instead, I grabbed the biggest, gnarliest one I could find. It was tough and unwieldy, perfect for what I had in mind.
“Just a moment,” I said, sweetly, as I fed the oversized carrot into the juicer. The machine groaned in protest before spraying juice everywhere—across the counter, the floor, and best of all, onto Miss Pompous’s designer handbag.
She shrieked, snatching her bag and frantically trying to wipe off the bright orange juice. “My bag!” she cried. “You stupid girl! Look what you’ve done!”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, ma’am,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face. “It was an accident, I swear.”
Her face turned beet red. “You ruined my three-thousand-dollar purse! I want your manager!”
Trying not to laugh, I gestured vaguely toward the store. “I think he’s helping a customer over there.”
As she stomped off in search of Mr. Weatherbee, I ducked into the stockroom to hide my smile. From my hiding spot, I watched as she stormed out, still clutching her dripping bag, leaving a trail of carrot juice in her wake.
I thought it was over, but I knew Miss Pompous wasn’t the type to let things go.
Sure enough, the next morning, she burst into the store, demanding to see the owner. When Mr. Larson, the kind, older man who owned the store, came out, she launched into a tirade, insisting I be fired and demanding compensation for her ruined purse.
Calmly, Mr. Larson replied, “Let’s check the security footage.”
My heart skipped a beat. I had completely forgotten about the cameras.
We gathered around the monitor as the footage played, showing Miss Pompous throwing juice in my face and the “accident” with her purse. The room fell silent.
Mr. Larson turned to her. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you any compensation. What I see here is an assault on my employee. If anyone should be considering legal action, it’s us.”
Miss Pompous sputtered in disbelief. “But… my purse!”
“I suggest you leave,” Mr. Larson said firmly. “And don’t come back.”
With one final glare, Miss Pompous stormed out.
Once she was gone, Mr. Larson turned to me, his eyes twinkling. “That was just an accident, right, Grace?”
“Of course, sir,” I said with a grin. “Why would I intentionally ruin a customer’s belongings?”
He chuckled and walked away. Ally gave me a high five. “You stood up to her, Grace! You showed her who’s boss.”
That night, as I shared the story with my mom and sister, I realized something important: standing up for myself hadn’t just put Miss Pompous in her place—it reminded me of my own worth.
Have you ever had to deal with someone like Miss Pompous? Share your stories in the comments. Together, we can take on the “Karens” of the world!
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