Cockeyed Optimist

 

Dolors is an older woman who lives on the next block. We met years ago when we were both trying on shoes at a shop and have been casual friends ever since. We don’t really socialize, but we always stop to chat when we meet on the street. Sometimes I need something and she helps, and sometimes she needs something and I help. But as we get older, helping becomes more difficult.

A few years ago when I still had Cupcake there was a day when I couldn’t take him out. Dolors was a big fan of Cupcake so I called her and asked if she could take him for a walk. She came a few minutes later and I buzzed her in. She huffed and puffed her way up the stairs (there is no elevator in my building). I didn’t know she had a bad heart. That’s the kind of person she is.

Today I met her a few houses down. She now goes with a walker. I had just read in the NY Times that Mitzi Gaynor had died, and reading through some of her credits really got to me: There was No Business Like Show Business (which I never saw but I’ve heard Ethel Merman belt out that song countless times), Les Girls, with Gene Kelly, and my favorite, South Pacific, among others.

I asked Dolors if she knew who Mitzi Gaynor was, but she didn’t. So I told her she had been an actress/dancer/singer in the 50s and she died yesterday. I told her that all these years later, I still sing some of her songs, in fact I sing one from time to time to my dog, and I started to sing A Hundred and One Pounds of Fun... which she knew! She knew the song and now knew the actress I was talking about. Those were the days, she said, her, Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, those were the days when people did beautiful, graceful, elegant dancing instead of looking like they were having sex on stage. We agreed that elegance isn’t a word you hear often any more. Sexy is what counts. We didn’t sing it, but we both also know another favorite, I’m gonna wash that man right outa my hair.

R.I.P. Cockeyed Optimist

Photo from the NY Times (Getty Images)