The End of an Era, Once Again

 Los Angeles, California

Last weekend, a friend cryptically texted me: Another of our beloved, favorite actresses lost. No clue. My brain flashed through possibilities which I won’t list (kinda gruesome). Reminded of pre-internet days when good friends had postulated the usefulness of a toll-free service 1-800-deadyet, I googled: Who died today? And Diane Keaton’s name and photo came up. I texted my friend, Cindy: News is reporting that Diane Keaton has died. She was the first person I thought of when I heard the news. Later, when I pondered this, I remembered the nights w/ Tom, Cindy and Michael at our first home. They were our best and closest friends and we spent many a summer night with them on the patio of that first home, back in the day when we listened to albums on a turntable. And the Gershwin-based soundtrack from Woody Allen’s film Manhattan was a frequent musical backdrop to our evenings.

After Cin texted me back, I responded: I’m still not over Redford! And it did seem vastly unfair to lose another icon from our younger days in such rapid fashion after the first. But alas, we have learned that life is like that in its inequities.

So, Diane Keaton. Le sigh. I first saw her in the film Play It Again, Sam. I saw it with David, my college boyfriend, at a long-gone movie theater out at Valley Circle in Calabasas. It is very possible that we had come there to see Harold and Maude and that PIAS was the second feature (the ‘70’s version of ‘binging’). It wasn’t long before we had seen Diane Keaton in The Godfather and another Woody Allen film, Love and Death.

After my relationship with David ended, Annie Hall was one of the early films Tom and I saw together shortly before we married. But my favorite Diane Keaton film is Reds. I saw it at a theater in Westwood with Cindy and Michael on Super Bowl Sunday in 1982. Tom was working that weekend and couldn’t join us. Before leaving to meet them for the movie, my mom called. When I told her I was just leaving to go see that film, she responded (SPOILER ALERT!): He dies in the end. Which, if you knew my mom, you would be inclined to remark in unison with me: That is So Betty…

Reds is a complex and interesting film, with one of the most memorable scenes in over a hundred years of filmmaking. It is the scene where Louise Bryant searches for Jack Reed at the train station in Moscow, her face reflecting the death and destruction she surveys until she and Jack find each other and embrace. Scenes like that, epiphanies in film viewing, are why we watch and study fine films. It doesn’t get a lot better than that. Ok, maybe Rick and Ilsa. Here's looking at you, Kid.

Losing Diane Keaton is shocking. But as Cin and I reflected recently, time is passing. We are no longer the thirtysomethings who worked out at Jane Fonda’s, had breakfast then shopped at the Gap at the Sherman Oaks Galleria. Our mothers were right, I remarked. It does go fast.

I watched Annie Hall last week. I actually own a dvd of Reds, so when the time is provided (it’s a very long film), I will watch that too. Hard to believe she is gone. I’m still not over Redford. Le sigh…

The Bracelet

 Los Angeles, California

Lynnette came to visit last weekend. It's what we do. We schedule a time each month for her to come and be what I call my weekend roommate. We schedule this in advance, generally four to six months at a time. The goal is to see each other twelve times during the year, but we're lucky if we hit two/thirds of that. This was a rough year, and her visit last week was the first since May. We now spend three nights instead of our original two. But once we switched to the three-night business, it seemed to go just as fast. I wish she would stay for a week.

I have always loved spending time in the same place with people I love. I loved visiting my favorite cousins in Reno, and the time they spent in LA was even better. We went back and forth a few times each year. Throughout my youth I spent overnights with my friends in both our homes. And girlfriends were always invited to Carmel when I rented the homes up there.

As I have written before, I call my closest friends, Fristers. But, truthfully, Lynnette seems more like a sister. A sister, in a good way, that is. I think because when she is at my house, there is a complete ease. We tend to do more or less of the same things each time, though varying the meals, activities, and games but only slightly. This was a Yahtzee weekend, as Joel and I taught ourselves to play Yahtzee when we were in Santa Fe last month. And we varied our fast food lunch by going to Cupid's hot dogs one day.

I grew up near one of the three Cupid's hot dog stands of the day. It was a walk-up stand, and I don't even recall the three tables that were eventually installed alongside the stand. They served hot dogs with chili, mustard and onions. And sodas. That's it. I recall the hot dogs being 35 cents when I first began meeting my best friend, Debbie Clevenger, there. It was about halfway between our houses. Later, after we bought our first home in that neighborhood, Tom would make a Cupid's run at the mid-point of a full Sunday of gardening. And by full, I mean about ten hours. At the end of the day, I would sit on the front porch writing in my gardening journal and sipping a shot of tequila from a bottle stored in the freezer. I no longer put tequila in the freezer (sacrilege), but remember that ritual well. Our dog, Taz, was always with us, supervising our work.

That location closed last year and there is only one remaining in the Valley. I had never eaten at that one! When we ordered our hot dogs the woman working asked me about the bracelet I was wearing. I have several of these, from a company called Little Words Project and have given some as gifts. You choose the wording which is strung together with colored beads, the words spelled out with small alphabet blocks. The one I was wearing said: Frister. This woman, taking our orders for chili dogs, asked if the word was a portmanteau. I'm sure I gave her my best imitation of Gen Z facial vacuity. Yes, I had heard the word. No, I have no idea what it meant. And, I was an English major! She gave us a definition and example: Frenemies. Yes, I replied. That's what it is. Closer than friends, better than sisters. Of course I have the luxury that many of my friends don't have sisters so I can just slide in there. But truly, fristerhood is special. And that's why I wear the bracelet. My other ones say: Kindness; salsera, and my first one: Cafe Con Leche which has a special meaning for me and for Joel.

So I told the Cupid's woman Lynnette's and my story: That we have been friends for ten years after she was my dentist for twenty. I like that story. And I like her being my weekend roommate. Maybe in 2026 we'll get closer to our twelve-month goal. Or, eleven months to be exact, as we spend a weekend in Phoenix, usually in March, when we attend MLB Cactus League Spring Training. Lots to look forward to as this season marches towards the fall and winter holidays. And we already have our frister weekends booked for November and December, all things willing.