The thing about Farrah Fawcett is she was kind.
To me. Once, 14 years ago. When we met out on a red carpet set up on the beach at the Delano Hotel in Miami Beach.
It was a windy, rainy, kinda moody afternoon. Hurricane Katrina was barreling toward New Orleans, bypassing Miami and allowing MTV to host its second-consecutive VMAs in the Magic City, after all. The occasion was the premiere of the comedy The Cookout. Farrah wore white, and when I handed her my orange Nokia cell phone (you know the one) to talk to my friend, the real estate agent Oliver Davis (a big fan of hers), she took it. Gamely making his wildest dream come true.
La Fawcett was a lot of things, but today, on the 10th anniversary of her death, I put my lighters up to salute her generosity of spirit, of which I know.
King of Cups 