Saturday, February 24, 2007

Anna Nicole Smith 
I defer to what Baldilocks says in her beautiful essay.

One of the nice things about living without television is that I had the blessing of missing Ms. Smith's public decline. I never saw her reality show. I never saw any of her embarrassing public appearances at awards shows. I never had the opportunity to laugh at her expense. I never had the occasion to feel superior to her. Intellect, I've long believed, is a fleeting thing.

For several years, I was a paid companion and caretaker to two men in their forties - brothers - who were profoundly mentally retarded. Both functioned at the toddler level or below, cognitively. And both had fully-formed personalities and were all formed in the image of their - our - creator.

They were disabled from birth. Others become disabled later in life. And others, for whatever reason, have to struggle with the gifts they're given, and make the best of what they had.

I remember Ms. Smith only from her Playboy debut and one appearance in a comedy movie. I only remember her loveliness, and I'm glad.

No Schadenfreud here. Our lost sheep are not to be ridiculed, but recovered and embraced.

Splash, out,


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