Georgina Spelvin: My day with Mr Crisp.

The movie set was someone's walkup one-time coldwater flat in mid-town Manhattan. There was barely room for the cast to sit around the living room for the final scene of /Red Ribbons/, a gonzo film produced by David Nahmod out of his hat -- and with a little help from his friends. My job was to portray the mother of a young gay man: a recent victim of the horrible scourge of AIDS.

His friends, gathered for a last farewell to him, are in a tizzy because his MOTHER has asked to attend the memorial moment and they are sure she will have only scorn and retribution on her mind -- having disowned the boy and all that. However, the character has a wonderfully moving moment of recanting her fierce opposition to her late son's chosen life-style. It was hardly the most elaborate set I was ever on, but I've never been on one with more unanimity of purpose.

When I arrived -- all a-twitter at the prospect of meeting Quentin Crisp, my copy of /Naked Civil Servant/ gripped in my sweaty hand -- His Elegance was seated at one end of the long, crowded room. I made perfunctory responses as needed to the group as I plunged headlong the length of the room and unabashedly held out the book.
"Would you please, please, please sign this for me, Mr. Crisp?" I pleaded.
"Why I'd be delighted to, my dear, IF you will kindly give me YOUR autograph. I've never met a porn star before. You know, you don't look like a porn star. You look more like one of those ladies who lunch."

Well, blush and giggle I did. I also hung on his every bon mot -- and there were plenty through the day.

My only regret is that my book, /The Devil Made Me Do It/, in which I speak of the honor of actually working with that amazing iconoclast, didn't get into print before he sailed away on that big luxury liner to Paradise.

Still in awe of one of the true Originals of our times, I am.