Thursday, June 25, 2009
Joy In Arabic
I once was at a dinner party where a gay man named Michael claimed to have over ten thousand pictures of Farrah Fawcett. He had the iconic poster, of course, and every clipping imaginable, from Playboy to TV Guide. I loved Michael's veritable font of Farrah wisdom. Did I know she was from Texas? And an artist? After a few minutes of Farrah worship, he went on to discuss a cruise he was going to take (a hundred men on a ship, yay!) and his hangover avoidance formula (you line up all your vitamins and painkilers before you go out by your bed, start the night with two shots and then stick to beer or two screwdrivers for the rest of the night). I was utterly charmed given that the only other conversation at said dinner party was a convoluted retelling of the plot of Rocky IV.
Farrah died today, and I think of all the lore I have heard about her -- that the first time she met Ryan O'Neil, they kissed so much that their lips bled, that her first husband Lee Majors had told Ryan to "keep her out of trouble" while he was out of town (note to men, bad idea), that Ryan claims he won't know this world without her. Theirs was the epic love; stormy, crazy, deeply real. A beauty, a wild spirit, a mother, a painter, a woman who could inspire a gay man to collect thousands of pictures of her, more than her iconic part of an angel, her very name means joy in Arabic. That seems as fitting a tribute as any.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"God gave women intuition and femininity. Used properly, the combination easily jumbles the brain of any man I've ever met." Farrah Fawcett
Thanks for summer drink suggestions!
Benedictions and Maledictions