Farrah Fawcett will always be one of the Angels. That’s how I met her, the earliest of my TV crushes for beautiful, distant and unattainable actresses. She was not my favorite Angel – that had to be Jaclyn Smith – but she was the one that dressed the sexier and that looked… well… freer. Maybe it is a misjudgment caused by time and distance, but I still get that impression from her pictures and from her posters.
My love for her deepened all through LOGAN’S RUN (1976) – a brief fling on screen – and SATURN 3 (1980), the movie with the most promising of posters. I remember reading the tie-in novel first, on a dream date with Ms. Fawcett (she was no longer Mrs. Majors after her divorce in 1979) that would never come to pass.
Our relationship ended too soon because of my immaturity. I confess I didn’t react well to EXTREMITIES (1986). Yes, I know her character Marjorie was one of the best in her career, and I know her performance won well-deserved acclaim. She even let her nipples show, although not in an erotic or titillating manner. Maybe it was because of it, of watching the movie as one watches sunbathers at the beach, without any concern for plot or character development that did it. But our relation ended then and there. I never looked for her again. I didn’t even gave a spin to the CHARLIE'S ANGELS DVDs waiting on my shelves.
But like all youthful flings I could never really forget her. Every time I glimpsed her name on the credits of some movie or TV Series my heart would jump like a startled horse. I’m sure we would come to terms again. Age heals all wounds of youth. Alas, but now no more. Farrah has left us… the most unfair of deaths… way too soon. I’m sorry I never looked her up again, never saw any of her recent works. But I kept on loving her. I still do. Goodbye kid, you’ll be missed.