Meet Cathy who’s lived most everywhere, from Zanzibar to Barclay Square
But Patty likes to rock ‘n’ roll, a hot dog makes her lose control
What a crazy pair
We all know by now that Patty Duke died this week. Because most of us are boomers at least, we probably all know the theme and lyrics to “The Patty Duke Show,” which didn’t exactly put her on the map — that was “The Miracle Worker” — but it was the show that spoke directly to us, because we weren’t blind and deaf, like Helen Keller.
Truth be told, I was a little young to be a teen when Patty was playing the Patty/Cathy dual role. I paid more attention to the show when it went into reruns and ran on the UHF station in Cleveland that reached Columbus via cable. My friend Paul, who was gay, loved it the way straight stoner kids loved “Star Trek,” so of course the next step was to find “Valley of the Dolls,” also starring Patty, and fall in love with that. Which we both did. To this day, when I hear the theme song, or recall the crazy ’60s cinematography, I think of Paul.
United with Patty now, maybe, somewhere in the afterlife. The original wig-snatcher.
Speaking of deaths, 180 degrees opposed in every way, you’re going to want to read this elegant, elegiac piece by the great Dan Barry, yet another boxing tragedy, about the day a couple of flyweight boxers went at it and one died in the ring. Died. It’s always possible, but it’s still appalling when it happens.
Boy, this blog feels out of gas these days, doesn’t it? So do I. Sorry about that, but it usually comes back, in one way or another. Let’s hope so. Wednesday, is it? Here we go.