When these moments come

A long time ago a friend re-introduced me to Smile written by Charlie Chaplin.  My friend and I would sometimes debate how the song should be interpreted.  He has a stunning voice, my buddy--in fact, I'll never forget the first time I heard him sing.  He was staying with me--I was downstairs, he was staying in the guest bedroom upstairs.  I was washing dishes--I remember this distinctly, you know how your mind wanders when doing the idle mechanical chore, and I started humming along to Sinatra singing Smile.  It was an upbeat, swing version--and it dawned on me, that I didn't have any album with Sinatra singing Smile.  I walked upstairs and there was my friend, surely at one of the darker moments in his own story line, belting Smile out with a voice, that to be honest, and standing that close to the music source, was better than the Chairman of the Board's.

Michael Jackson's recording is today even more bittersweet and if it's treacle wasn't juxtaposed to Chaplin's scenes, maybe too unbearable.  Thinking of Dame Taylor, her friendship to Michael Jackson, her long friendship and heroic stewardship of all gay men (she was one of the founders for amfAR, raising upwards of $100 million dollars since the late 1980s), I remembered this song, my friend and all those "friends" we have out there on both sides of the silver screen, some gone, some going--

We can only smile.