SO LONG, FAREWELL
I haven't been keeping up with the Anna Nicole drama since I have always been somewhat disturbed by her whole life. The death of her son finally brought her into the the realm of human because who could imagine losing a child and not feel incredible pain?
I remember when she first appeared in Guess ads with her normal sized butt and massive boobs and amazing face. I thought she was some kind of Sophia Loren lucious Italian lady that the boys at Guess had found eating linguine at some sidwalk cafe in an Italian mountain town. And then when she started to appear briefly in commercials on TV I thought she was kind of like Anita Ekberg in the La Docle Vita, glamorous and bohemian and wild.
And then she started to really get some exposure and, and showing up on those entertainment "news" shows where I heard her speak and I was certain that she was an inbred cracker from the backwoods of some southern US state. She was from Mejia, TX so I wasn't that wrong.
What was abundantly clear by the time she had her show on E!, the Anna Nicole show, was that she had some serious problems. It seemed to be a combination of drugs, sycophanitc leeches and inbreeding, and it was pretty horrible to watch, especially since her involved her son. She barely seemed able to take care of herself, much less a teenage boy.
I know that those shows are edited for "entertainment," and that what got on the air was probably just the worst bits, but they were pretty bad and there was an abundance of them. It was pretty clear that her life was a train wreck beamed out on the E network and it wasn't going to have a happy ending.
And it hasn't had a happy ending.
But, the Anna obsession that has taken place in the media of late rattled lose a memory of a story - a pretty fucking great story - that involves Anna and a friend of mine.
Tom is a photographer. He used to be a model in the 80s, a very successful model who was and is classicly handsome. In the early 90s he decided to quite modeling and pursue photography. He is also an amazing photographer. This journey brought him to Playboy studios one day to drop off some of his work. As he was walking down the hall after meeting with a photographer he passed an open door and inside, at a dressing table, naked except for her robe, which was flung open, was Anna Nicole Smith.
She was there shooting one of a number of pictorials which appeared in that magazine. This particular pictorial involved a big white bathtub full of bubbles. So Tom glances in as he passes by, because what guy wouldn't, and she spots him.
"Him, I want him," she slurred to the producer of the shoot. "I want him to get in the bathtub with me."
Now this isn't Anna at her hugest, but she was pretty big at the time, and also pretty drunk and possibly on drugs. In other words she was quite a handful.
And she wanted Tom.
In the bath with her.
The producer chases him down, conversations are had, and long story short he ended up in the Playboy pictorial in Anna Nicoles arms wearing nothing but a top hat.
I was of course interested to know if her whole slurry, slightly retarded thing was an act or what. He said that she was really too fucked up for him to be able to tell, but what really impressed him was that as out of it as she was, once the lights were on her and the camera was ready she was a total professional and turned "it" on. And whatever "it" was, she was plentifully possesed that that thing.
The camera loved her and she loved the camera.
When the light were turned off and the shoot was over she was practically incoherent and he ended up driving her home. I can't remember if he was asked to do this, or if he offered because he felt sorry for her. I do remember that he described her as one of the saddest people he'd ever met.
I will be glad when she's in the ground and I wish her happiness where ever she is because I don't think she ever really was happy here.