A bouquet of eulogies for the playwright and actor, George Furth, who died at 75 last week. These titles are simply the way George would surely introduce us to each other, as he couldn't NOT introduce us without a sobriquet of some sort...
Jennie Blackton
Mommy dearest called her a smart little thing, she changed her life completely by going into Democratic politics from being just another sitcom writer and I am so awed and you will be too:
I can remember over 35 years ago when I met George. He was that kind of person. I can barely remember what I did yesterday, yet George greeting me is quite clear. I knew that he'd written Company, of course, and had loved the show. But I never got a chance to say that, since George said it for me. We lived in the same apt. building, and met by chance in the elevator. George remarked,"Well, as the spider said to the fly, it's curtains!" As I started laughing, he said, "Of course, you loved Company. And you're dying to know what I'm writing next." And then he proceeded to tell me in great detail. In fact, he gave it to me to read, and when I hesitantly had some comments, he told me how wrong I was, and then kept calling me with more changes, especially at 6am. Groggy, I told him I simply couldn't read anything at that time, and he said cheerfully, "Winners are up at this hour!" I couldn't resist. And I never did. He was unique, as I'm sure most of, if not ALL of his friends would say. A terrible gossip, which he constantly said he never did, yet a keeper of the secrets of so many. He kept a huge one for the duration of my marriage, and wouldn't reveal it to me until my husband died, keeping his promise and his discretion. (I certainly won't mention it here.) One day he called, announcing, as always delightedly, "It's GEORGE FURTH!" (He always wrote in capital letters, since he always TALKED in capital letters.) He asked how I was, briefly, since we were obviously going on to more important topics, and I said, "Not so great, my dad died yesterday." Undaunted, George said, "Well, didn't he live a wonderful life!" It was true then. And it's true now. George lived the most wonderful life, and I adored spending some of it with him.
Treva Silverman
The cleverest person in the world - she wrote the entire Mary Tyler Moore show you know and also writes Broadway shows, you see I put them second ,much harder to write 24 minutes of solid humor, of course I've done that but some wonder why...
I'm still trying to deal with why this enormous wave of sadness and disbelief doesn't seem to ebb. While I was struggling in vain to write down my thoughts, a helpful friend asked, "Well, if George were here, what would he think?" And my first reaction was, George would have been furious with himself for dying during both the Olympics and an exciting presidential election: how could he and his friends possibly be the center of attention when everyone is relentlessly focused elsewhere? But I probably underestimate him. If there's a way, George would find it. When I first met him I once interrupted him -- no easy task -- to mention he might want to insert a verb or two into his sentences, since his conversation mostly consisted of proper nouns: Warren, Steve, Hal...It took me a while to understand that his life and the life of his friends were, in a way, intertwined for him. More than anyone else I know, he delighted in his friends' experiences and adventures, chortling over his anecdotes with a childlike, gleeful amazement that he, of all people, was lucky enough to be surrounded by such gifted, witty people. When I think about the many memorable things George and I did together, the one that probably tickles me most was when we went to the Hollywood peace march together a few days before this idiotic war started. He came to my house and we took the Metro, a first for both of us, over to Hollywood and Vine, where the march was supposed to begin. There were hundreds and hundreds of people already gathered there, jammed together, and it quickly grew into thousands. It was difficult to move even a few inches, but George insisted we go up to Cahuenga, a few blocks away, to see what was happening. It was a challenge to wend our way through the crowd, but he saw to it that we wended with a vengeance. Every now and then --- which is to say, every few seconds --- he would spot someone he knew, chat a little, and then hurry us along. When we reached Cahuenga, he looked around, got a disappointed look in his eye, and said, "Well, maybe more is happening around Highland." So we elbowed our way up to Highland, dodging baby carriages, bumping into dogs and always there was someone George knew. I was already weary and the actual march hadn't even begun, but I suddenly grasped what was going on. George was working the room! We were in the great Hollywood outdoors, but George couldn't help regarding it as the biggest cocktail party in history. Dear, darling George was trawling for anecdotes, to hear and to tell, even while campaigning for world peace. And now I find it intolerable that I can't just pick up the phone and talk to him... and hear his stories and his ideas for plays and which line is better for this character and just laugh and laugh.....but I feel blessed that I was able to do that for over forty years.
Faye Greenberg
You might not know who she is now but you will soon because she is a great lyricist and if you get to know her now you can tell everyone you knew her when....
"Today I am going to introduce you to your new best friend" or "You're going to love this story and tell it to everybody." A breathless phone monologue ending with an uproarious punch line and then a dial tone. A wildly humorous quip followed by a comment so insightful it nearly takes your breath away. All George. Pure George. George exploded into my life a little more than twenty years ago and I am grateful for every moment I got to share with this kind, quirky, generous, noisy, charming, irreplaceable man. Not too long ago George swore he was going to stop sending his usually interesting, often thought provoking, occasionally hilarious emails. And he did. For awhile. And then he couldn't help himself and the onslaught began again. Truly only death could stop his constant stream of information. But I've been thinking, knowing George, if Heaven isn't up to his standards in any way, shape or form, I'm certain he's already deep into writing a scathing letter to the powers that be to let them know he is George Furth and he is done with them forever. I suggest we all keep checking our emails. You just never know.
Gary Kott
You know he was the producer, oh, he'll want me to say executive producer, of the best Bill Cosby Show and trust me I know Bill and he was his best on this one - did I tell you when I did an "I Spy?"
Live and let live, a wonderful philosophy, an admirable definition of true friendship -- and then I met George Furth who quickly set me straight, "Live, but let me tell you everything you're doing wrong, everything you've done wrong, and everything you'll need to do to improve your wretched existence." Truth be told, George was usually on the mark. Wrong girlfriend. Wrong agent. Wrong mother and father. I'm not sure if anyone ever chose to be friends with George Furth, George chose you, and once you were chosen, you could never look at yourself in the same way again. George Furth was an x-ray to your soul, a jackhammer to your shortcomings, a joy, a challenge, an exasperation, a revelation.
Bill Chastain
Of course you know Bill, everyone does, but they're not always telling why -- the real secret is to make him think you'd be a great contestant on one of his game shows, then you can make a lot of money and thank Bill in your will
George was a great dinner guest, always telling stories, always center stage, always making us laugh. On one occasion, he became serious and told of having recently been at the deathbed of an actor friend. He described a sad scene, everyone gathered around and speaking softly, respectfully touching, but getting no response. George suddenly broke into loud applause, calling his friend's name as though the play had just ended. His old friend opened his eyes and seeing everyone, smiled, then closed his eyes and died. I'll always remember George Furth when I hear cheering and applause.
Beegie Truesdale
You of course knew she was Lee Atwater's best friend, amazing since she's a Communist, well, I say she's a Communist, but she'd say she's a Southern Democrat, not that it matters but there are no sober Southern Democrats but Beegie, and she's the bravest woman you'll ever meet in show business
The play was Fixin to Die: A visit to the Mind of Lee Atwater. I went to see it because I am from South Carolina and knew Lee very well. Though political opposites, Lee was a bit of a Peck's bad boy and I found it impossible not to like him. All I did was go backstage to tell the actor how much I enjoyed his performance when I met the director, George Furth. Somehow, even though I had not a lick of experience producing theater, I became the Judy to George's Mickey and we ended up taking that little one man show all over the country. It wasn't easy..George never was easy...but oh my it was great fun to have George Furth as a friend.
Lee Grant
You know Lee, naturally, I'm sure you're as in awe of her as I am, but of course I knew her when no one was and she was just the third or fourth wife of a blacklisted writer, and you're of course her biggest fan since you saw Shampoo and you're dying to get into the Actors Studio so Lee should be your best friend forever and ask her to direct your scene which she won't but it never hurts to ask does it?
George....you are the best and longest loved friend of everybody I know who is worth knowing. I miss you so much, it hurts.