Why men and women can't be friends

Nora Ephron died today.  She was 71 years old.

I've been a bit quiet on the blogging front lately.  But I figure that for a woman like Nora Ephron, a writer and director whose life and reputation were shaped by words, I ought to spare a few of my own in memory of her.

I have loved Nora Ephron's work for a really long time.  Sure, she and her sister Delia were, creatively-speaking, a powerhouse pair whose collaborative work I saw in New York only recently.  But it was Nora's work that resonated with me the most.

Nora knew how to breathe life into quirky but wonderful female protagonists, even when film directors insisted on casting Meg Ryan to play them. Groan.  Then again, I can't imagine anyone else playing Sally Albright these days, so that just goes to show what I know about these things.  And of course "When Harry Met Sally" gave me a favourite script as well as a favourite movie soundtrack, all in one fell swoop.  And who could forget THAT scene in Katz's Deli?  Iconic.

I will still watch "Sleepless in Seattle" any time cable TV chooses to play it, rainy day or not.  And as Norah taught me in that very movie (which she wrote and directed), "it rains nine months of the year in Seattle".  That movie also taught me where Baltimore is, especially in relation to Seattle.  And how can you knock a movie that pays blatant, unapologetic homage to "An Affair to Remember"?!  I mean, seriously.  Kindred spirits.

So the next time I'm on a plane, I will think of Nora.  I will order a regular tomato juice, not too much ice, filled up about three quarters, and then add a splash of Bloody Mary mix - just a splash, and add a piece of lime, but on the side.  You know it's true.