Monday, April 20, 2020

Love Letter to Jackson and Sarah

Last night I was dancing my ass off to Jackson Browne's "Running on Empty".  I think that song is about how hard it is to be famous and never be allowed to be less than your best, always your public self.  Sweet Hubby and I saw Browne in concert - was it just last summer?  And he was awesome, played all night, and managed to make it look as though he were glad to be there, doin' it as though for the first time, after how many thousands of times singing all those songs over and over and over. 

I also, for some reason I haven't discovered yet, was thinking about Sarah Jessica Parker.  Oh yes, it was because I started reading A.R. Gurney's play Sylvia.  In the Broadway premiere, SJP played the lead role of Sylvia, who happens to be a dog.  Gurney actually dedicates the script to her.  I absolutely adore Parker.  She has a sweetness that really can't be faked.  But how fierce, how dedicated, how fucking talented do you have to be to maintain that sweetness, always have it at the ready, even as you go through marriage and children and aging, all in public? 

This is why I don't care for those moments when Parker's roles require her to simper.  She can pull it off because she's got that voice, that smile, that hair, and that lovely sweetness.  But she's acting, because the actress, the woman, must be very, very strong, not a simperer at all.  It takes strength to stay that thin.  It takes strength to stay true to your self and your family even as you remain a public figure.  It takes strength not to become cynical or world-weary.

These two people, who (whom?) I will never meet, have brought so much fucking joy into my life.  I owe them both a great debt.  They really do make it look easy.  That's how good they are. 

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