Hunk Of The Moment: Michael Wilding
How You Might Know Him: Nobody knows him, or at least nobody knew him before last week, when his mother, Elizabeth Taylor, died, news I learned because Good Morning America interrupted a story about a missing 13-year-old girl to let me know that a "movie star" had passed away, and I don't mean to be disrespectful but is it really major news when someone whose last major credit, and I'm using that term loosely, was The Flintstones, dies? Yes, it's very sad, but "break into a story about a missing teenager?" sad? Special Edition of People Magazine major news?
Well, yes, as to that last part, I suppose, but the point is that as sad as it is when someone dies, it's not break-into-the-news type of things when a movie star dies, especially a movie star who doesn't mean anything to anyone younger than the Baby Boomer generation. (The overwhelming attention to Liz Taylor's death being yet another example of Baby Boomers driving the news to cover themselves, along with the idea that Woodstock was important in any way.)
So anyway, hate mail pointing out that I'm completely insensitive and Liz Taylor was wonderfully talented and starred in more movies than just The Wizard Of Oz and I'm a rat should be directed to scottwalker@wi.gov. Let's just all agree that it's sad when someone dies and Liz Taylor deserved an article in the paper and a mention at the end of the news, just before they show that scene of the crowd in Times Square, and move on to how I know about Michael Wilding, or at least...
How I Found Out Sweetie Liked Him: Sweetie made the mistake of talking to me about Liz Taylor's death on the day Liz Taylor actually died, which I responded to by for the first time ever telling Sweetie I thought something she was talking about was boring -- in over a decade I've never said anything Sweetie was talking about was boring, even though on many of those occasions Sweetie was talking about something extremely boring, like "her feelings" or "the exact time and day we were getting married, which she wanted to make sure I was aware of so that I wouldn't make plans that weekend and would actually show up and also remember to rent my tuxedo ahead of time for."
Sweetie was talking about Liz Taylor was we were waiting at the drive-through of the local pharmacy for a prescription for Mr Bunches, who had an ear infection, and she responded to my first-ever comment that I just... didn't ... care [remember: email me at scottwalker@wi.gov.] about Liz Taylor dying because I'm not 73 years old and so never saw her movies by going on first to point out that Liz Taylor's son Michael Wilding was good looking.
Then, when that didn't make enough of an impression on me, Sweetie also pointed out that the pharmacist was, in her opinion, also very good-looking -- pretty, was the word Sweetie used.
Then, when that didn't do anything for me, either, Sweetie decided to lean over, just after the pharmacist finished ringing up our prescription, and shout into the intercom system "I just wanted to tell you that you're very pretty," saying that across me, so that I was caught in the middle of what had suddenly turned into a very awkward situation, and somehow it seemed as though I had done the flirting/complimenting even though I hadn't, with the pharmacist thanking Sweetie and backing a little away from the window in case we tried to kidnap her or molest her through the glass or something, and giving me a glance that seemed to say "You're really the one behind this, aren't you, you pervert?"
I responded by trying to smile in such a way as to suggest that Sweetie is completely nuts but also harmless and that I couldn't control her and that also she'd just been talking about a boring movie star and that this was just her way of acting out. I don't think I entirely conveyed the message, because the pharmacist sort of shuffled off to her right and disappeared, and we drove away with me telling Sweetie that she had just turned a simple errand into one of the most awkward situations of my life.
To which Sweetie replied in the best epilogue to this story that I could have come up with and it's completely true:
"She and Michael Wilding would make a cute couple."
1 comment:
Isn't it weird how a person can mean different things to different generations? Elizabeth Taylor was like the biggest movie star in the '50s-'60s, but to those of us born after 1970 all I remember was that she was this creepy old lady who was friends with Michael Jackson and had perfume commercials from 20 years ago still airing on TV during the holidays.
It's like how young people now days think William Shatner is just that guy on Priceline commercials and maybe Boston Legal and think Chris Pine is really Captain Kirk--for which I would bludgeon them to death with something heavy.
So yeah it's too bad she's dead, but it's not that much worse to those of us under 55 than anyone else in the obituaries.
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