Dear Reader,
I was saddened to hear yesterday of Liz Smith’s death. She was an iconic New Yorker, and also a delightful person. I knew her, slightly. I’ll never forget when we met, at a cabaret event on the roof of the St Regis Hotel, in the early 1980s.
Ms Smith flirted with me, which was great fun. She turned to my ex and said, “Ooh, Billy, you’d better watch out or I’ll steal him away from you!”. It was the closest I ever came to feeling like a boy toy, and the memory always makes me smile.
Liz Smith had the perfect qualities to make a great columnist: she was smart, inquisitive, honest (except when tact took her in another direction), and good-natured, with a healthy respect for human foibles as well as virtues. I think it was that humanity that earned her career such longevity.
I should also mention her courage in taking on, among others, two famous bullies—Frank Sinatra and Donald Trump. She also came out, more or less, late in her career. Earlier on, polite society didn’t talk much about sexual identity. But later, when they did, she was willing to share a part of her private life. And that always takes courage.
Lastly, I should mention that Liz Smith looked great. She was always impeccably groomed and beautifully dressed, whatever the occasion. The way she presented herself, combined with her charm and humor, made her a formidable human being, the like of which we will not see again. I’m just glad we had her for ninety-four years.
Bruce
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