Lapel

Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: "I'm with you kid. Let's go."

Maya Angelou

Doctor D

Dr D, unlike your erstwhile Dr P, was a real doctor. A medical one, with the knowledge of the uppermost consultant and the heart of a saint, the bedside manner of a goddess, the integrity of nobody you will ever meet. She was an angel. She was too good to be true. And some days, it's hard to believe she ever was ...

She was born on this day in 1974. She was killed in a stupid car accident in 2004. She was the worst person to die, worst as far as confirming to an already cynical mind that there is no rhyme nor reason, no method to the madness, no steadying hand helping us along in a pretty, karmic fair-balanced way. There is no Grand Narrative justifying everything. That she died disproved everything faith-related. (My grandfather's Auschwitz days helped along in that regard, but, then again, that didn't happen directly to me. The ego is a powerful thing.)

I have suffered a few episodes of depression, of varying degrees of awfulness. (I am good now, and have been for several years.) But in those bleak times I did think at times, Why her? Why her and not me, when I am concealing myself behind curtained doonas and Xanax fogs, and she would be out there engaging, enjoying, doing, helping, being? It scares me writing this, it's not something I've ever articulated. But it feels safe to recall publicly with regard to her memory.

She was sooooooo amazing - to which all her many, many friends would attest. I wish beyond wishing that I was calling her now to wish her "Happy, happy, happy birthday, my beautiful, darling D!" instead of writing this horrible eulogy. I will never stop loving her and I continue to take inspiration from her life.


xxx

RIP Dom DeLuise

One of my favourite films of all time:



My favourite actors are often those who work in an ensemble: the Christopher Guest/ Harry Shearer/ Catherine O'Hara crew; the early Woody - Diane Keaton - Tony Roberts brigade, but my first and most favoured are those Mel Brooks Mischief Makers: Madeleine Kahn, Harvey Korman, Marty Feldman ... and a big beautiful bear of a man sadly lost to us on May 4th. (And thanks to Spaceballs, May the fourth always be with him ...)

Not only was Dom DeLuise a comic genius in his own right (Silent Movie, History of the World, Part One), but he left a wonderful legacy to the world in the form of his sons Peter (readers of a certain age may remember him as Johnny Depp's partner-in-preventing-crime-while-looking-young in 21 Jump Street) and the lesser known Michael (Jess' stepfather on Gilmore Girls) and David (one of Dick's students in 3rd Rock From The Sun). Unlike Baldwins, there can never be enough DeLuises in the Holly 'hood.

Also touching is the statement released by his family: "It's easy to mourn his death, but easier to remember a time when he made you laugh." That's how I try to recall my main (funny, burly, bearded) man. Hoping that Dom and my dad are sharing a few giggles and guffaws somewhere fabulous.

xxx

Bitched Out By Bacall

Growing up I had pictures of her on my wall, Betty Jane Perske that was, a fatherless child with a smouldering stare: "The Look".



Years later I spent approximately a week's wages to attend a function at the Dorchester Hotel in London to hear her speak. I approached her at an appropriate moment, then timidly said "Ms. Bacall, I don't mean to bother you ...", to which she retorted "Well, DON'T then!" before imperiously sweeping past me. Which sounds all rather grand in retrospect but I was in tears. (That said, I was younger than anyone there by about half a century and she had just bitched in her address about "the younger generation" AND it was just after that panel at Cannes where she objected to Nicole Kidman being deemed a legend, so maybe it was all just down to unfortunate timing!) But still, Lauren?!? Oh, how I loved you! You hurt me more than any man ever has!

Have you ever been dissed by someone you've adored from afar?