The other day I put on some Judy Garland at work and my colleague told me this story:
I work for this older man who used to be a popular photographer in New York during the 40s and 50s. Now that he’s realized he’s getting towards the end of his life, he pays me to help him organize his life’s work. One day I came across some pictures of Judy Garland and asked him to tell me what she was like. He said the day these pictures were supposed to be taken Judy requested at the last minute for him meet her at the hotel where she was staying. When he got there, Judy’s eyes were puffy and dark. It was clear she’d been crying and had the smell of mixed boozes on her breath. Her husband at the time, one of the many men she married during her life, had left her earlier that morning. Judy blinked up at my boss and asked, “Would you kiss me?” Boss got all ruffled, telling Judy he had a wife, that he was just there for work. Judy said, “It’s just a kiss. It would make me feel better after the day I’ve had.” My boss did kiss Judy Garland. He said it might have been the saddest he’s ever been.