For so many of us, she gave us happy endings when it didn't seem like there were real ones on the horizon.
"Hey Meg-a-la," shouted Rosie O'Donnell, trying to get Meg Ryan's attention at, yikes, Alice Tully Hall, just after the memorial tribute to writer, director Nora Ephron.
We're remembering with gratitude the fifteen times Nora Ephron graced the 92Y stage. She talked about filmmaking, writing, women, aging, politics, AIDS, the differences between men and women and much more.
The memorial to Nora for 800 of the ticketed chosen in Alice Tully Hall of Lincoln Center was brilliantly produced, like a great Broadway opening happening at 11:30 in the morning, last Monday. Nora had established what and who she wanted and she got it all.
Inspired by Michael Cunningham and Craig Marberry's 2000 book that explores the rich history black women have with wearing ornate church hats, playwright Regina Taylor has crafted a joyful, colorful celebration with Crowns.
"What would Nora do now?" I asked myself? Back down and go with the flow?
Another woman's success doesn't take away from my own. If anything, it creates more opportunities for me to achieve my dreams.
I'm moved because Nora, for all the success she had in the outer world, chose not to tell many about her disease.
The moment she sat down in the studio, she started giving me and my producer directions. Not unexpected; I'd heard she was a little bossy. But her soft-voiced charm quickly won us over.
Nora Ephron, film director, screenwriter and essayist. Incapable of settling for mediocrity, she was a writer who dared to do more. Nora's writing and...
I moved to the Upper West Side because of Nora. She wrote of her love for Zabar's, Café Lalo, Levain Bakery, Gray's Papaya and the Apthorp, so by the time I made my rounds, I felt at home.
At 71, Nora Ephron was taken too soon and too young. I was hoping that if I was in the same room as her, some of her wit and intelligence might have rubbed off on me.
I have a plan to combat aging: Don't put glasses on while looking in the mirror, thank god for making my eyes go first and thank Nora Ephron for teaching me how to laugh about it all!
There has been a lot printed about Nora belonging to the Harpies lunch group, but this nonsensical little gathering of women,who like to gossip at will and not see it in print, was the least thing in Nora's busy life.
Last night I had a dream that starred Nora Ephron as Edith Piaf. I was a friend of Nora's (like half the Western world, I know) and like half the Western world I was shocked to learn, in one phone call last Tuesday, not only that Nora had cancer, but that she was dying. So, here is my Nora story.
This week was all about the Supreme Court -- and the suddenly surprising John Roberts. First, the Chief Justice guided the court through a split-the-baby decision on Arizona's immigration law, allowing the noxious "show-your-papers" provision to stand while striking down three others. (Splitting the baby was very much in vogue: see News Corp.) Then came the landmark health care ruling in which Roberts, perhaps mindful of a recent poll showing three-quarters of Americans think he and his fellow justices allow political views to influence their decisions, found a narrow way to uphold Obamacare -- a move that left many conservatives fuming, caused Justice Kennedy to accuse Roberts of "vast judicial overreaching," and prompted Albert Brooks to tweet: "It's a terrific day in America. I'm gonna go out and get wildly sick." Much closer to home, we mourned the passing -- and celebrated the life -- of Nora Ephron (see here, here, here, here, here -- and read Nora's HuffPost posts here).