September 17, 2025 ~ Wednesday (a chilly, very welcome morning)
Everyone’s boyfriend, at some time or another, died yesterday … sigh. Robert Redford … heartthrob of probably just about everyone, regardless of one’s sexual orientation, has passed away. Sigh again.
I am feeling wistful … nostalgic … sad; and like I want to go walk barefoot in the park.
I am also feeling that this may be the beginning of a deluge; that he may be the Grand Marshall of the parade of “oldies” who will be leaving us in the next few years. There are so many … from stage, screen, sound, and beyond. So many people we, of a certain age, grew up with … those faces and voices that were constants throughout these years.
The fabric of our lives was woven with their talents, songs, images, and words … it’s hard to think of our lives, even though most of us never met any of these icons, without them.
I can think of more than a handful that are “up there” in age … those that we always welcome into our homes and thoughts as if they were good, old friends … Robert DeNiro, Jane Fonda, the Martins – Steve, Short, and Sheen, Harrison Ford, Barbra Streisand, Dolly Parton, Shirley McLaine, Paul McCartney, Julie Andrews, William Shatner, Helen Miren, Willie Nelson, Cher, Clint Eastwood, Dick Van Dyke … and so many others who are still the lesser side of 80-90 years young.
I imagine this is what my parents felt like as they aged … seeing all their idols leaving the stages … not knowing the names or faces of those replacing them.
Bob, as I fondly referred to him, was the quintessential “boy next door” – the one who made hearts skip (or beat faster), knees buckle, and eyelashes flutter. He was … hunky but not overtly, everyone’s gorgeous dreamboat but he didn’t carry conceit, friendly in manner yet shy. He had … those twinkling, soul-searching blue eyes (mesmerizing!), that thick, tousled strawberry blonde hair, that boyish charm, that rugged but quiet perfection and oh, that smile … and I’m sighing again.
I read somewhere that westerns as well as political and sports films are not the best productions – investment/entertainment-wise. Redford made each of those (and we loved them) and all were huge successes (Jeremiah Johnson, All The President’s Men, and The Natural). Way to go, Bob. He made movies we could get lost in … The Sting, Three Days of the Condor, and … hello, Sundance!
He was one of those guys who looked great in a tuxedo or a flannel shirt and jeans … he could fit into any movie role (or dream) with ease and tamed panache.
He took us with him in his roles … and in his reserved activism. We allowed him that honor; it’s what he did … it’s the way we were with him.
I’m pretty sure, I’m not the only one today with a heavy heart. We will miss you, Bob.