Posts
I grew up, reading Liz Smith. I recall when she was film critic of "Cosmopolitan" Magazine, and an article she wrote in "Playbill" about the greatness of Barbara Cook as Cunegonde, in "Candide," as well as the greatness of "Gypsy's" overture, (it is!) and, though she was on some assignment, she could not tear herself away from the show, so spellbound was she by Ethel Merman and Company.
Those were the days. Alas.
Yesterday, at the age of 94, (wow!) Liz Smith died, of natural causes. Now, Heaven will get all her scoops!
There is something oddly appropriate at Liz leaving us, amidst the gossip frenzy of Harvey Weinstein, Kevin Spacey, Louis C.K., and God knows who else!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She was a class act, and knew when it was time to leave.
How the gossip mills have changed. I owe a debt to Liz, for even being on here, myself.
Her journalistic quality will be missed. With her departure, another piece of New York City history is lost to us.
How am I supposed to pick up the slack? Graydon? Liz????????????
Nevertheless, I will do my bet.
Rest In Peace, Liz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
4 comments:
I wanted to believe she would outlive us all somehow. : ((
Victoria,
So did I. I thought
Liz Smith would go on. How
sad she has left us. But
she was the gold standard
of gossip for my era!
One after the other, our cherished icons are falling. I, too, thought Liz would live forever (she's been such a fixture for so long, I took it for granted that she wasn't even aging somehow: when did she suddenly turn 94 ???).
One inexorable fact thats terrified me for years is knowing every last touchstone would vanish within my lifetime, leaving pretty much nothing behind that I could relate to in a fundamental way. Those of us in our 50s-60s came of age during the very tail end of the era where a thread still connected prior decades (perhaps centuries) to new cultural developments. That thread snapped circa 2007, severing younger people from having any history or context, leaving them (and us) stranded in a sea of pointless incessant temporary changes. Lately I feel trapped in the World Trade Center scene from "The Wiz," as Richard Pryor barks out conflicting nonsensical cultural edicts that the population below mindlessly rushes to embrace minute to minute.
With Shakespeare and Dickens (even the Beatles) now being vilified from rooftops as irrelevant scumbags who need to be expunged from history, you know the curtain is coming down on any semblance of cultural heritage. Once Betty White and (God forbid) Deborah Harry leave us, I plan on joining a Tibetan monastery.
Who is saying things about Dickens?
I will take care of them.
Still, I fear you are right.
But as long as I can write this
blog, something of a cultural
legacy will be preserved.
Post a Comment