Today is the would be 99th birthday of one of my idols, the great Lucille Ball. It amazes me how many people can't believe the fact that, yes, I really do love Lucy. I've had people at the bookstore ask me for something I Love Lucy related and then feel the need to explain to me who Lucille Ball was. I've had people look at my I Love Lucy wallet and ask me if I actually know who that is. Yes, in fact, I do. I've read every book available about Lucille Ball and her classic TV castmates. I've seen every episode of I Love Lucy so many times that I can practically recite them. I've also seen every episode of The Lucy Show, almost every episode of Here's Lucy (at least what's available on DVD), as well as the majority of Lucy's movies. I own a vast collection of Lucy memorabilia. I am, indeed, a big fan.
I was pretty young when she died, but for some odd reason, I remember that day very vividly. My mom was up in our kitchen, which overlooks the family room where I was watching TV before heading off to school. She must have been watching the news on the TV in the kitchen (because I don't think the newspaper would have gotten the details of Lucy's passing yet) and all of a sudden, she let out a big, "Awwww."
"What?" I asked her.
"Lucille Ball died."
And then I said, "Who's Lucille Ball?"
That's right. I didn't know. Like I said, I was pretty young.
My mom was stunned. "You mean you've never seen I Love Lucy?" She asked.
"No."
"Oh, it was this very funny show that was on TV when I was a kid." And I, in all my infinite wisdom, wondered to myself how in the world she expected me to have seen this television show when, obviously, I was not around when she was young. "Well," she said. "I'm sure some TV station will be running a marathon or some sort of tribute to her soon. When I find one, we'll watch it together." And I thought, 'Whatever.'
Well, true to her word, when Fox aired a Lucille Ball tribute/I Love Lucy marathon a few weeks later, she sat me down to watch it with her. The very first episode was one of, if not the most iconic I Love Lucy episode ever: "Job Switching", more commonly known as 'The Chocolate Factory episode'. And guess what?
I hated it.
I couldn't tell you why I felt so strongly against it, but the natural critic in me came out that afternoon. I remember being so upset that at the end, Lucy waited for Ethel to faint before she collapsed on to the couch as well. How fake. How staged. I don't remember how many episodes we watched that day-- I only recall that one. I do remember, however, my mother telling me how Lucy and Ricky were married in real life, and I remember my telling her how romantic that was, that they met on a TV show playing husband and wife and then fell in love and got married for real. And when she told me that they were married before they did the TV show, I remember thinking that they were very lucky to have auditioned for the same show and both gotten cast...
It was about 4 years later when I became a fan. It was 10:00 one summer vacation morning, and I had come in from playing outside to watch one of my favorite TV programs... which wasn't on that day. I wasn't ready to go back out into the sun, so I decided to channel surf and see what else was on. The only thing of interest I found was an old, black-and-white television show that I'd seen one episode of, a show that I remember my mother telling me was very funny. I decided to give it another chance. 'Maybe,' I thought to myself. 'I just caught a bad episode.'
Maybe I just caught a bad episode. As I type this, I am shaking my head.
I don't remember what episode it was that day, but I guess it wasn't all that bad because at 10:30, after another round of channel surfing, I again landed back on that same station, on a second episode of I Love Lucy. And for the rest of the week, when my program still wasn't on, I still channel surfed, but I always came back to Lucy.
It went on like that for the rest of the summer. When my program returned, I found myself determining what episode was on, and if it wasn't one that I liked, switching to Lucy. Then, it got to the point where I would just check to see which episode of my program it was, and if it wasn't one of my absolute favorites, it was off to Lucy hour. Eventually, I didn't need to check anymore. I just tuned in to the redhead.
I Love Lucy was also on at 2:00 and 2:30 on Saturday afternoons. It became a weekend staple. And one Saturday afternoon, my dad came into my room during Lucy hour to tell me that we were leaving for church a little early that day (because we, being good Catholics, went to Saturday afternoon mass instead of getting up early on Sundays) so that we could stop at the library. "You know what?" I told him, indicating the TV screen. "I like her. When we go to the library, I'm going to get a book about her."
My dad beamed with pride. "That is so great," he said. "When you find that you like something, you want to go out and learn about it. That is just fantastic."
Today, I bet he wishes he'd said, "You know what? I changed my mind. Let's not go to the library." Because that trip set a huge snowball into motion.
I checked out two books that day, an adult biography called Lucy & Desi and a kids book called Lucille Ball: Pioneer of Comedy. I was done with the kids book by the time we pulled into the parking lot at church, tears rolling down my cheeks as I read this beautiful tribute that an acting school in Hollywood wrote on their marquis the day she passed away: 'They needed a laugh in Heaven. Good-bye Lucy.' By the end of that book, I was officially hooked and there was no turning back. For my birthday that September, I got my first of many Lucy-related presents: The I Love Lucy Book by Bart Andrews and a VHS tape of Yours, Mine and Ours. I also got an I Love Lucy t-shirt, which I proudly wore as often as my mom's laundry schedule would allow.
That led to Lucy collecting galore, both as gifts from others and purchases with my own hard-earned allowance money. My Lucy t-shirt collection multiplied like rabbits. Soon, I had enough Lucy clothing to wear a different Lucy shirt every day of the week... and I did wear them, every day of the week.
I saw nothing wrong with that-- I mean, people wore t-shirts with their favorite TV characters to school all the time. But I was the only one advertising a TV show that ran when our parents were kids. And I was judged for it. Harshly. Very harshly. As if it wasn't bad enough that I was picked on because I was a geek (aka I wasn't blonde and pretty and I wore glasses), I started to get picked on for being a Lucy fan. I can't even begin to tell you the torment I was put through. I would come home crying because people made fun of me and my shirts and the fact that I always had a Lucy related book with me. My mom suggested that if it upset me so much, I should maybe stop wearing the shirts to school. But I refused. There's nothing wrong with them, I reasoned. I love Lucy-- lots of people love Lucy. It's a classic television show, and not wearing my shirts just to stop their immature comments is like admitting that I'm ashamed of what I like. And I'm not. So, I made my choice. And I paid for it.
My friends wrote me a collective note one day that told me I wasn't cool because I liked I Love Lucy and because they hung out with me, people thought they weren't cool either, so they didn't want to be my friends anymore. Luckily, I eventually fell in with a couple of girls who were also considered 'social outcasts', who didn't mind that I liked an old TV show-- and actually watched my favorite episodes and movies with me at sleepovers and such. In the end, I was much better off because I had found friends who accepted me for who I was, but that didn't mean that the rejection didn't hurt. It did. A lot. I think it really changed my view of friendship and made it a lot harder for me to make friends, a lot harder for me to open up to and trust people. It's something I still struggle with today. Don't ever think that old wounds don't scar, don't run deep.
I'm glad, however, that even at such a young age, even in the midst of such peer pressure, I remained true to myself. Looking back, that took a lot of guts. When I got to high school, a different school than most of my grade school classmates, and I was able to get away from 95% of those kids (including those girls who ditched me), I got to start anew. A clean slate. I didn't wear my Lucy shirts right away, at least for the first couple of weeks. I tested the waters first. But when I did add them back into my wardrobe... people thought it was cool. I suddenly became 'vintage'. On the speech team, some of my teammates actually thought it was so cool that they started calling me 'Lucy'. I couldn't think of a higher compliment.
I wouldn't trade my love affair with all things Lucy for anything in the world. And even though those of you who know me know that I have found another curly-haired redhead to idolize, just as much as, if not more than I idolize Lucy (like anyone thought that was even possible!), my first flame-haired love will always have a special hold on my heart. Watching her has taught me so much. Everything I know about comic timing, I learned from her. Even at such a young age, as I sat there with my eyes glued to the TV screen, I was studying. I didn't know it at the time, but I was. I was taking her in, watching her every move, understanding what she was doing that made her so funny. And in reading about her-- about her life, about her way of approaching her work, of her fire, her passion, her intelligence, her wisdom-- I learned how to be a dedicated performer, a good business person, and most of all, a strong woman.
Thank you, Lucy, for everything. Thank you for the laughter. Thank you for the inspiration. Thank you for the legacy you have left for generations and generations to come. Thank you for being a pioneer for all those aspiring actresses like me. And thank you, Lucy, for being such a solid pillar of my childhood. When I came home from school crying and dejected, you were there on my TV screen, ready with a good laugh to lift my spirits. You helped me to discover who I am, to find my sense of self, even in the face of adversity. You were an original, and I was able to be an original too, because I had you to look up to. You didn't even know I existed when you were alive, but you have been such a guiding force in my life, and still continue to impact me, day, after day, after day.
Happy 99th birthday, Lucy. I'll have some chocolates in your honor today.
