Eddie Fisher's death reminded me of something that happened when I was in the eight grade.
My older brother William came home to visit from college, and it wasn't three hours later that he got into a "disagreement" wih my parents. After the "disagreement," he decided he needed to get out of the house so he uncharacteristically invited me to the movies. His problem with my parents and his unusually kind treatment of me somehow over the years came in second place to what happened in the movie theater.
Suddenly, there was Debbie Reynolds doing what she does best: dancing, singing, entertaining, driving Robert Preston crazy on the screen, and jaw-droppin' all the men in the movie theater. I remember exactly what she was wearing: a scanty, frilly, underwear thing with all of her pokey-outey stuff pulling me into submission.
Just then, William leaned over to me and said, and not in a quiet voice, "Eddie Fisher is crazy." Some would have reflected on Elizabeth Taylor and gotten into a debate over that statement, but with Debbie up there charming the hell out of me, and realizing Elizabeth never charmed me like that and never would, I replied, and not in a quiet voice, "He's nuts."
I can still see her..................Debbie, that is.