I feel like I’m betraying my memories by picking a favorite Watermark memory. Watermark has been part of my life since picking up the first issue on Rollins College campus.
I’m 57 and three-quarters years old, which means Watermark has been part of my world for more than half my life. I get to say I was part of its history, which is pride I can’t describe (which is a humbling thing for a writer). Betrayal aside though, there is one memory that stands out.
“You’re making me nervous,” my editor Scott Smith said, passing through my Watermark office which was as open as an open floor plan could be as it had zero walls. The interview that day was different for me.
When I’ve interviewed celebrities there is always a bit of anxiousness and, thanks to Watermark, it’s quite a handful of them. Rufus Wainwright broke my heart when I asked him if he’d date a person with HIV and he said it was something he’d have to think about. (He didn’t know but my diagnosis was fairly fresh.)
Harvey Fierstein snapped at me for asking about his voice but apologized later in person saying he wouldn’t have if he had known I was so cute. (A piece of that interview wound up in a textbook.) Porn star Ryan Idol told me about a near-death, out-of-body experience, and I still wonder if the title of my article was insensitive: “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Ryan.”
This interview was different for me. Eartha Kitt was my mom’s hero. She would often recount seeing Eartha on “The Mike Douglas Show” openly talking about race and what an impact that made on her. I still have the cassette tape with Eartha purring her answers. We chatted about the environment because of fires in Central Florida, our horoscope signs and she recounted famously making Mamie Eisenhower cry at the White House. The latter was a story she no doubt told a million times but patiently told Scottie about it — how about that, Harvey? Eartha was blacklisted in the U.S. for standing up for what was right and banned from the White House until President Jimmy Carter invited her back.
My interview came about because Eartha was on tour in “Cinderella” in 2001 as, you guessed it, the Fairy Godmother. That tour afforded me the opportunity to meet face-to-face with Eartha, twice. When it passed through Tampa, my friend Josh Levine and I attended that opening night party. Eartha seemed trapped at a table by guests, and not wanting to be sycophants — a word I learned from her during the interview — we didn’t try to approach but as she was making her way to her room, she saw us and made a beeline over to us. I don’t remember any of that conversation.
When the tour came through Orlando, I took mom. I asked the marketing guy who had arranged our comps if we could get backstage; he gently told me I was out of my damn mind. Leaving after the show, we were walking past the stage door of the Bob Carr Theater and there was Eartha on the stoop, a glow around her as she took in the night air. Eartha and I share a birthday, so at this point I was convinced we are cosmically connected. Mom tearfully told Eartha how much she meant to her, then she bragged about the Watermark interview.
Clicking slightly into business mode, she asked me, “How’d we do?”
