I was invited to Open Salon long ago by Monsieur Chariot. " What would I write about?" I asked him, a friend from Table Talk. "Heath Ledger" he suggested as I'd just posted on TT a version of this story.
Ever since then I've known that one day, I would write about this close first and then the second --more mystical or surreal-- encounters. And since a friend here wrote about Heath today, I will start, a story which will sound exaggerated. But what I write is true as truth serum. As true if I were on truth serum.
I first met him on a flight from LAX to JFK. The country was just put on high orange alert with as I recall a tinge of red, or no we went from Orange to High Orange and since this happened a mere 4, if that, months after 9/11, I felt a bit panicky until I got the airport. Once surrounded by happy crowds I got happy too, soon boarding a 767 first class. (In those days I could afford it.) The plane actually had only 8 or so passengers so the pilot invited everyone up; we were all flying first.
Immediate background: I had just fallen in love in Maui, from which I'd flown to LAX with the man I'd soon move with-- to South Beach. I was in high spirits anyway as this was post 9/11 when curiously my plane fears receded because I'd flown more than most, so I comforted others' and that helped cure myself. (more than less.) Next to me, at the window seat was a cute kid and we started joking from the moment I sat down. (I've written about how I "Love in the Air".) Because this was early January 2002, we had terrorists on our minds and began planning what we'd do if someone on the plane was our target. I took out and we played with a Ma Roller ( you remember those long wooden things with curves for one's back?)
Immediate background: I had just fallen in love in Maui, from which I'd flown to LAX with the man I'd soon move with-- to South Beach. I was in high spirits anyway as this was post 9/11 when curiously my plane fears receded because I'd flown more than most, so I comforted others' and that helped cure myself. (more than less.) Next to me, at the window seat was a cute kid and we started joking from the moment I sat down. (I've written about how I "Love in the Air".) Because this was early January 2002, we had terrorists on our minds and began planning what we'd do if someone on the plane was our target. I took out and we played with a Ma Roller ( you remember those long wooden things with curves for one's back?)
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Amazingly, post 911, they were allowed. I always carried one in my backpack but soon, since the flight was delayed, while sitting on the ground for two hours, this kid and I were riffing about how since he was taller, he'd use this weapon while I'd pull the terrorist's hair.
Then we looked around at the 8 innocuous folks and realized terror was not likely to be on our agenda. We cracked up. And then we sank into one of the lovliest, most memorable chats in all my flying life. Hell, maybe in all my chatting-up-strangers life.
I have this personality, when outside, that is nothing like I am at home or with real and close friends. At home I am quiet and work hard. With guests or friends they know I'll tune in and out. But once I get outside, I greet everyone as if I've not seen a human in say, twenty years.
Even though, as said, I had just spent two days and one night with a man I adored, I told this kid about that and then, since the plane was not moving, we entered one long and contagiously intimate discussion. We listened for a while to Bobby McFerrin's "Bang Zoom" on my iPod, one noise-cancelling earphone for me, one for him. He loved this album and not everyone does. We settled in and had what he later called "the most amiable talk of my life."
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He was 22 at the time; I was 56 but, and this is why I believe it went so deep between us: Because I had no idea who he was. He knew that I did not know. I believe, and have good reason to, that this lack on my part is why he talked so openly, hell it's why I could be totally myself. Heath Ledger, whose name I did not yet know, brought out, as no other passing encounter has--my highest and best self. Not that 12 + hours of intense conversation can really be called a "passing encounter." He had that gift. One he no doubt bestowed on many many others in the six years he had left to live. Yes. He had a gift, in addition to his acting gift which once I watched his films I think may be unrivaled --in his potential.
We talked about everything. About his parent's divorce, in great detail. About what it's like to be 22. About the man I just met. Then we found these fake cigarettes, not e-cigs but small nicotrol's that I shared with him, and we laughed at how much they looked like tampons, though yes, they sure took the edge off of not smoking while still waiting for take off.
And then the plane did take off as did also a most unusual alchemy between us. I didn't recall what precisely we discussed, not until much later, maybe because it was more about what we created: a love high like few others. That, far more than the content, is what was key, at least for me.
He asked me lots of questions and I think telling him that once I was a
shrink made him more open, even though I only became a shrink because I was busy nurturing and cheering up my family since I was aged two.
shrink made him more open, even though I only became a shrink because I was busy nurturing and cheering up my family since I was aged two.
When I said that, he lit up, for the same was true of himself. We talked about how charisma can be a necessity in families that aren't much fun. How as the listening and cheer-up kids, something we shared, were roles we each needed-- to enliven our not too happy familes.
He talked about moving from Perth to another city in Australia and then to L.A. and I said that he was lucky to get to see the world when so young. I don't really want to stress the content, not right now, because it was the emotional bonding that went so deep, that was so memorable.
I have rarely, if ever, met a kid who was shy to the max, yet utterly, o so charmingly charismatic. And, this detail comes in later: When he was facing out the window or telling me something private but looking straight ahead, his nose changed shape. It was different than when face to face, as we were for most of the twelve hours. This will seem a non-sequitur but is actually important.
I kept asking him if he wanted to sleep and he said, "No, this is way better than sleeping" which comment of course haunted me after his death, at 28 on January 22nd 2008.
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I remember coming home after this flight and my ex was there, Eddie, and I told him I was giving up smoking because because of the new Maui love, the Bobby McFarrin in my ears, and mostly due to this amazing kid with whom "I'd just exchanged souls." Jet lag, usually a problem, was non-existant.
I went to my computer, something I do whether I have friends over or not-- as surely I don't have to explain to anyone here on Open Salon.
And because this unforgettable kid had written out his cell phone and his name, which I'd stuffed into my jean front pockets-- before reading emails, I took it out, strange name I thought, and looked him up on the internet though I did not have not a clue that he was an actor nor famous. Or I had only one teeny clue.
You see, when exiting the plane, we headed to baggage. Once there, he gave me a hug I will never forget, that boy had one talented body, and he hugged me tight. Then as we walked further, there was Drew Barrymore, who got a great hug too. So at my computer, I thought, type her name, maybe he was her guy. I remembered how he played with her hair and for a second, after thinking how cute it was that she looked ragged, --one pant leg inside one boot, the other outside-- how I was, and this is strange, a little or a lot jealous. I mean I missed him as soon as he was with her. No matter how kind he was about me.
I typed in Drew Barrymore but he did not look like her first nor her second or current husband or beloved. And typing his name from the paper, I then began to see photos which I was not absolutely sure were of him or not. That's where his nose comes in. I studied him facing forward, which, check! was when his nose looked wider.
Then I found other photos of him facing to the side, and that was when he looked like snoopy. Just as I was about to put together: his name and his fame, reading that he had made 4 or so films, right that minute, in came my pre-teen daughter with her friends.
I looked up. Then I got up from the desk and hugged her and the others, asking if they'd heard of... here I had to return to desk to get his name, on the paper, " Heath Ledger." All the kids, five or maybe six, started screaming.
I looked up. Then I got up from the desk and hugged her and the others, asking if they'd heard of... here I had to return to desk to get his name, on the paper, " Heath Ledger." All the kids, five or maybe six, started screaming.
"Moma," my daughter said, "You TALKED to Heath Ledger?" Another girl: "Are you sure? He's a heart-throb, he's the best!" The other kids were in awe, as my stock took a steep rise. They wanted to hang with me, which was not the usual. I wanted them to see the photos. It was he.
I was teasing them and bragging, just for effect: "Girls I didn't say Hi to Heath Ledger, I talked to him for 12 straight hours." My daughter was beaming, she was now one degree of separation from Health and though she is private as a rule, and thinks I talk too personally to anyone, she was surely not embarrassed now. She looked proud. (Aside: Have you noticed that it's the chatty, funny moms who often have almost dour kids? My kid is far from dour but I think I had a bit too much personality and maybe eclipsed her. If so that was unintentional.)
But I was not de trop, not for Heath Ledger. After we had hugged, that long way his tall, wiry body took mine, just as Drew Barrymore met him, he said to her, in his sweet, soft Aussie voice, " You will never in your life meet anyone as kewl as this woman. She is older than my mom but wow, she is so one of us."
I despise; I eschew bragging but this part of the story is essential if you are even to begin to believe or willingly suspend disbelief, about where and what happened at our next meetings.
End Pt. 1
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Comments
This is the set up and to believe what truly came next I had to brag. But could I not in 8 f'en hours scan? Lord-y. Thank you both!
This is a thing we feel in person, often in hearing a voice, or reading words. To hear this in another who is reading someone else's words and playing a part on a screen is very rare, very very rare. We are all drawn and struggle to understand why.
I don't doubt one word of what you say, I know your story is true because he told you a truth "No, this is way better than sleeping" because you will only hear him when he is "awake". For me what I sensed was he arrived and stayed connected, both ways. He remained open/connected the time he was here. Don't be haunted any more, he gave you a word that was a compromise "sleeping". He did not die, he left his body and where he is he we can't hear the words he still says. He did something he can't do while he's sleeping, he let his body hug yours. He gave you a word I know, sleeping, I still live but I cannot hold you and you may not be able to hear me. When I'm sleeping I won't be able to hug, but I will be able to hear you. Tell him you love him still, he's only what you can safely call sleeping. He gave you lovely gifts and you gave him "wow, she is so one of us."
Let me know if you hear him again, or see symbols that he sends you from where we sleep. Can't wait for the next update.
Scanner I have zero karma for fame but weird karma for meeting those that are famous. However no one came close to Heath.
Trilogy, you are so kind to respond. There were typos and some stuff I can fix but after 8 hours of not being able to post this I just said, do it.
dirndl: You totally got him. I saw all his films except the Dark Knight and really look forward to the next one, "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. " As Peter Biskind explains in his August Vanity Fair profile, they filmed in Europe. Then Terry Gilliam et al left for Canada, and Heath as we know went to New York where he died the second day. Biskind, who I happen to know as well, if less intensely, says: "Only when Heath is on the stage does it light up."
So we have that to look forward to. And yes, I'm in contact with him after death to give away the next part. Nothing but nothing like this has ever happened to me before. He lived on for a while anyway. And Biskind, who is wonderful but no mystic, feels he's still out there close by. Risa, yes it is a tragedy that we lost him.
Re: computer hassles writing your blog? Type some, save it. Then go back into edit and type more and save it. And remember, always log in first or you'll lose it! Anyhow, loved this. That's a haunting description: she's so one of us. Wow.
Anxious to hear the rest.
R
"I mean I missed him as soon as he was with her."
Your thoughts and feelings are admirably and originally so natural; it is so intriguing and refreshing. I enjoyed this part immensely from top to bottom.
Beautifully told, rated.
An unintended message came, Re: I totally love your imagination... haha, I awaken discussing this at 2:37 am Mtn Time, I'm alone in bed. What imagination? and we are frustrated discussing it. Alone in bed, trying to understand why I'm alone in conversation. Suddenly I'm 4 or 5 and I hear my parents, I have a vivid imagination, I have to stop making up stories to tell. So I did.
Now I'm just one more crazy person walking the streets finally safe in plain sight. I can't help but wonder who was busy agreeing with me 3 hours ago, I couldn't tell. Thank you for a piece of the childhood puzzle, I can't help but feel if I can remember who I was, I'll understand better who I am now.
Anxiously waiting to see if it was a symbol/metaphor sent through sleep. Dying to know if it was a symbol of him??? You??? or the two of you??? OMG!!! The nose??? Your second PM came 6 times (??? numbers are not my metaphors) and now the patient woman can hardly stand to wait.
Anyway, I will write pt.2 tomorrow. Today is dental hell. Promise! I think you are right M. Chariot, that I can both use other's words and analyze why his films, esp the early ones are so great. YOU will have to do Dark Knight, one the only I could not watch. Thanks to everyone here. So sweet.
Plus, who knew... any friend of M. Chariot is a friend of mine.
Rated