Joan Rivers: Wish We Could Still "Talk"

How many times did I hear her say, "Can we talk?!" both on the tube and in person,  and off she'd go lampooning some poor soul, but usually some high powered politician or celebrity, and as well herself.  Maybe that's why I did not object to her, even savored her admittedly abrasive comedy. 

I am told this is a photo from the last appearance she made on August 28, just seven days ago.

That's what I find I want to "talk" about here, because everywhere else it will be replays of her pieces, often involving plastic surgery.  Something like "She's had so much plastic surgery when she sits down her mouth opens.". Her guest hosting The Tonight Show for Johnny Carson, who never forgave her for not telling him that she had been given her own show. By the time she called him, he knew and he silently hung up the phone. He had given her the break in show business, and told her she'd be a star, but he cut her off with a cruelty that even now is hard to understand.

But then that is life, isn't it. One thing is happening and then it all changes.  There, a friendship ended abruptly and forever. And now, the woman who in this picture appeared healthy and prosperous is suddenly dead.  How many of us have had "out patient" procedures that were supposed to be simple and successful?  Joan's wasn't. Still not clear what it was, some kind of endoscopy (reminding me, never have one) or work on her vocal cords (should that even be out patient? "Don't get me started," I can hear Joan saying from her new digs in the Divine cosmos. 

I have heard so many phrases about life thrown about, "Life is short, and then you die.". "Life is just a breath," a bit more of a hopeful phraseology if you are inclined toward the idea of an afterlife as I am. But whether you believe in an afterlife or not, it is clear that our time here should not be taken for granted and our relationships either.  Funny, I was going to write today about how hard it is to love my neighbor as faith teaches.  I was going to give examples, from the British accented murderer of innocent American young men whom I fear, dear Lord, I loathe, to the young man on the Gelson's line who refused to move to let me by with my wagon, remaining on his spot like a lawn statue with a bad attitude.  But Joan's death has softened me, Joan that hard boiled, laser taunted comedienne, makes me feel like I should be softer toward my fellow man and woman, and not become a hermit.

Our lives hang indeed on gossamer threads. Here; Then gone. We need to make the most of every day and most especially with each other.

Joan certainly did. I don't think I'll ever laugh that hard again.