Let’s get this over with right now. Ann Blyth sleeps in formaldahyde. She must drink the blood of virgins because she looked 11 times better then many of the woman (and their weren’t that many) at the Castro Theater half her age and that my dear is no exaggeration. Her Hollywood training was quite evident in her appearance and demeanor and as I walked up to her for a picture and an autograph it occured to me that I was meeting a legend. Truth be told I wasn’t nervous about meeting her. Not Ann-Margret/Debbie Harry nervous- until I started walking to her and she looked at me directly in the eyes with the same eyes that looked contemptuously at Joan Crawford 60 years ago. I touched the same hand that SMACKED Joan Crawford 60 years ago. I had to be the 3 hundred and something person she met that night and she was gracious as all heck. I was nervous as hell. ‘Thank you for your wonderful performance tonight and keeping the good things about Joan alive’. ‘You’re welcome’, she said.

Filed under: My Way Of Life