I've greatly admired Stephen Sondheim since I first saw one of his shows (which was, indeed, 'Company') in the mid-70s put on by students at Oxford University. A few days ago there was a TV interview with the great man himself on his then approaching his 80th birthday - and a well-preserved octogenarian he is too! But when I first saw what he looked like all those years ago I was smitten. He was hot! Then I found out about his particular 'predilections', and I do mean 'particular', and my mind was in overdrive. We would be so compatible! Then in 1991 I used to know a theatre critic who took me to a live talk and Q & A session with Mr S. at London's Barbican Theatre. The man would then have been 3 or 4 years younger than I am now. To say I was excited would have been the least of it. The theatre was packed out for the event - and for me it was a case of 'spot the star' as there were so many 'A' list British acting celebrities there. (I found myself sitting right behind the wonderful and adorable Julia MacKenzie.) When he appeared my jaw dropped. He was every bit as handsome as I'd hoped. That did it. I don't remember much about what was said during the Qs and As because my fantasies had taken flight. Even though the audience was big I was easily in his sight-line, close to the middle, about 8 rows from the front. I was willing him to look at me. Surely once he noticed me our gazes would lock - and then he'd think "Wow, he's not bad!". The entire session was spent in mind-games but though there was no obvious sign that he'd noticed me I didn't give up hope. Perhaps if I hung around afterwards someone would bring me a note - "Hi! Have you got a minute to talk? S.S." My answer would be unequivocal but I'd have to hold back a near-orgasmic enthusiasm. We'd have a drink together. He'd ask me if I'd like to come back to his hotel with him. (Would I? Sure as shit I would! - but it would take all my powers to stop visibly trembling otherwise he might think I had a dose of the D.T.s.) I'd accompany him back, we'd have a meal, a few drinks, laughs, then the discreet, exploratory touches, then....... After a night of considerable mutual satisfaction he'd pop the question "Ray, baby, would you like to come and live in NY with me and be my assistant?" "Only if my heart doesn't give out, you sex-bomb, you!" The rest would be history - but what a history!
Oh well, dream on! But if only I'd had the guts to force his attention on me by asking a question, my life could have worked out SO differently! As it is, now I don't even have a 'George' or, in fact anyone else, with whom to spend a Sunday in the park! ;-)
27 minutes ago