Bea Arthur--Why I'm a Golden Girls Geek.

I was at the studio today, when I got a phone call... "Baby, I have some sad news." It could have been anything-my dog has gotten old and sick, a couple of family members are ill, so I braced myself.

It was something I had just thought about this week. Bea Arthur died. I don't know
why, but I always thought that Bea was indestructible--when I went to see her show
a few years ago, onstage she seemed so alive, so vital, and though in her eighties, so strong.
This week, though, I was watching The Golden Girls, and thinking..."it's so sad, but
another one will probably die soon."

One of my favorite professors at Auburn told us if we ever wanted to learn about comedy, we should study her. I guess that's when I started getting obsessed. I watched everything she had
done one summer, and then The Golden Girls every day with two great friends the last year
of grad school--two in a row, each afternoon on Lifetime. The three of us, Neal, Joe, and myself, would watch the show, and laugh hysterically, especially at Bea's sarcastic wit. Joe
would practice her stinging gaze...we called it "the Bea," or "getting Bea'd."

I bonded with another great friend over a mutual admiration/love for Bea--David. I remember calling David long distance from Florida when a great episode of "the girls" would come on...we both loved the one where Dorothy comes out of her shell and sings at the Rusty Anchor...much to Blanche's dismay.

We always joked that Bea should have her own one woman show-and that it should be called "Beadazzled!" We were so excited when it was announced that there was indeed going to be a
Bea Arthur show...and not at all surprised to find each other in Nyack, NY on the same Sunday afternoon for a performance of the hilarious, touching, and rather filthy show.

As my friend Michelle Barge said today....she was the "original Fierce." She was. She was fierce, funny, independent, talented, sharp, and...intelligent beyond measure.

After seeing her show, some of us made our way around to the back of the theatre to hopefully get a pic, or a hug....and she came out of the back door with the most genuinely surprised look on her face. She seemed really shocked that there were so many people who wanted to see her. She regretfully explained that she couldn't stay...she was feeling tired and hungry, and needed to eat something. The thing was, we all knew she was telling the truth. Up close, you could see that she was a little bit older...just a little frailer looking than she seemed on stage. She was so happy to see us all, though. She was beaming. She looked radiantly happy, but, as I said, a little frail and tired. She thanked us, blew kisses, and happily laughed as the driver helped her into her car. She turned around and waved as the car pulled out.

I looked around the parking lot at all the happy people, and was struck with the realization of how much joy performers have the potential to bring into the world, how much light. It is a rare gift to be able to inspire so much laughter. Laughter, you know, is very healing. Bea was a healer, and a yogi, because she did exactly what she loved; by following her own passion, she created moments of happiness for millions of people. She also was a great humanitarian, and a passionate animal rights activist, as well as a great friend to the gay community, fighting to help gays gain acceptance long before it was a popular stance to take.

I read something wonderful the other day--a quote:

"Don't ask what the world needs. Figure out what makes you come alive and do that, because what the world needs is more people who have come to life." Howard Thurman said that. I really feel in the case of people like this---these immensely gifted people...they are living this...when we live our life according to what makes us come alive...we are able to shine out the very best of ourselves, and in the process, illuminate the world around us.

Bea...she was a fucking rockstar. Maybe the funniest actor I've ever seen.