A Dawn Meeting

Olga and I walked up the high street before dawn yesterday morning, giving me a chance to photograph one of our annual neighborhood Christmas trees. Weirdly, I ran into two of Dave's co-workers, a choral music teacher and her husband, who often substitutes. You don't expect to see people you know on the high street at 7 a.m. but we had a brief chat about our holidays.

It was a long-ish walk for Olga, who these days can barely be tempted to go beyond the omnipresent trash bags on the corner at the top of our street. I had a fantasy about walking her to the cemetery yesterday afternoon but she wouldn't go for it. I think our cemetery days are over -- we last went in October and before that, August. Hard to believe we used to go every week and sometimes twice in a weekend.

She still likes the garden, though -- always her first stop in the pre-dawn darkness.

This has been a rough couple of days for celebrity deaths, hasn't it? First Jimmy Carter, a statesman and man of principle if ever there was one; then Linda Lavin, of TV's "Alice," and then Olivia Hussey, Zeffirelli's Juliet. I once saw Lavin on Broadway, in "The Tale of the Allergist's Wife" in October 2000, and I even saved the cover of the program:

That artwork is by Roz Chast, one of The New Yorker's most popular cartoonists. In my journal at the time I called it "a really funny play" but I don't remember many details, except how excited I was to see Lavin in person, having watched "Alice" faithfully for years as a kid. I got a kick out of seeing Michelle Lee too, as a childhood fan of "Herbie the Love Bug."

As for Olivia Hussey, I've blogged before about going to see Zeffirelli's "Romeo and Juliet" with my 9th Grade English class. With that one role she made an indelible mark on many of us -- she's still the world's Juliet, the face many of us picture when we think of the play. (I picture her face and Leonard Whiting's behind. Well, OK, his face too.)

But the death that surprised me the most when I read about it yesterday was that of Troy Masters, a journalist and editor I knew in New York. We were both heavily involved in the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association, and I was astonished and saddened to read that Troy died shortly before Christmas. I only knew him socially and hadn't been in touch with him in years -- except as passive Facebook friends -- but it still came as a shock. I wish I'd known he was living in LA. I would have tried to see him when Dave and I went in February. A missed opportunity.

And here we are at New Year's Eve. How did this happen already? Dave and I have no major plans to celebrate, except that he's getting his surgical staples out today, which I suppose is something. I will probably make a martini with some of our ancient vermouth and watch the "Happy New Year" episode of "Absolutely Fabulous," still one of my all-time favorites. We are such party animals!