Scroll

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Scroll
Scroll

Annabelle Gurwitch, Meet Your Namesake

posted Friday June 27th, 2014

photo-399

The line dwindled, the authors stopped signing books and were chatting with each other, looking bored. It was time.

“Okay, Annabelle,” I said, nudging her. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

As a rule, I don’t line up to meet authors. Not authors I like, anyway, not since a bad encounter many years ago with T.C. Boyle. I don’t want to risk ruining my love of a good author with an encounter with a bad personality. Plus, I tend to gush. Not one of my best attributes.

But this was different. This was Annabelle Gurwitch.

Hers may not be a name that rolls off your tongue, and if you do recognize it, it’s likely for her work as an actor rather than as an author, and if you’re like me, it’s because she was on this show called “Dinner and a Movie” that aired in the late 90s (that’s when she was on it, anyway) in which she and an equally adorable male actor teamed up each week to show a movie (usually an 80s classic) and make dinner to go with it. Usually one of the actors from the movie would show up — think Jon Cryer and “Pretty in Pink.” The show was on Friday nights, and in the late 90s there was nothing to do in Phoenix, so I watched it a lot.

Like I said, Annabelle Gurwitch was adorable. When she left the show, I stopped watching it and found something else to do on Friday nights. A few years later I was pregnant with my first child, searching for just the right girl name. In Judaism (even my casual brand) you don’t name people after anyone you know who’s still alive, and we didn’t have any dead relatives with names I liked enough. I wanted to name the baby Rosy, but that was the dog’s name. And the second choice, Isabelle, was taken by the cat.

I stressed a lot about this. I wrote a piece about it for Salon. I wanted something sweet and classic, a little homespun, but a name that would stand the test of time. Nothing super popular, either. Annabelle came to mind, but it seemed way too cute — okay for a baby or a toddler, maybe even a young girl, but an adult? Seemed like an awful lot to ask of a grown woman.

I wracked my brain. Had I ever encountered an adult named Annabelle? YES. I had. Annabelle something-or-other, from that dinner and a movie show! And not only did that woman rock the name, she also had an ethnic last name — and awesome glasses long before glasses were hip.

Sold. Ray liked the name, too. Fast forward 13 years, and there Annabelle and I were last night, at a reading in Scottsdale featuring none other than Annabelle Gurwitch. I go to (and once in a while take part in) readings all the time, but this was Annabelle’s first. She LOVED it, had wise and kind comments to make about just about every performance, and gasped when she saw Annabelle Gurwitch’s shoes. (I noticed them, too, super cute orange T-straps. I also loved and related to her piece, taken from her book, “I See You Made An Effort: Compliments, Indignities and Survival Stories from the Edge of 50.”)

That would have been enough. We could have headed straight home after the reading. But I took a chance.

“Hi,” my Annabelle said, sticking out her hand. “My name is Annabelle.”

A slow grin spread across Annabelle Gurwitch’s face. She stood up and came around the table. I don’t think she meets many Annabelles.

“So, you are going to think this is really weird,” I told her. “But she’s kind of named after  you.”

I explained — the quest for the right name, the glasses, the Jewish last name. She nodded, pointing to my own glasses. She totally got it. If she was creeped out, Annabelle Gurwitch didn’t show it. She could not have been nicer. Truly. She pulled her tiny namesake aside, engaging her in conversation. They talked about ballet and fashion design and the role of the producer in a theatrical performance (that’s what Annabelle says, anyway) and how my Annabelle didn’t used to like her name (news to me) but likes it now (phew) and later Annabelle told me the older Annabelle talked to her like she was really important. “I liked that,” she said.

I loved it. And only after we left did I realize what a risk I took. It’s one thing to not be able to read T.C. Boyle’s books anymore. If Annabelle Gurwitch had been bitchy, would I have had to change Annabelle’s name?

But that didn’t happen. And now I’ll gush: Annabelle Gurwitch is smart, funny, beautiful, accomplished,  kind, a writer — and at 50 she’s still adorable, still rocking that name. She still has excellent glasses. I can’t think of a better namesake for my daughter.

Did you enjoy this article?
Share the love
Get updates!
Tags: Filed under: Uncategorized by Amysilverman

Leave a Reply

My-Heart-Cant-Even-Believe-It-Cover
My Heart Can't Even Believe It: A Story of Science, Love, and Down Syndrome is available from Amazon and 
Changing Hands Bookstore
. For information about readings and other events, click here.
Scroll

Archive

Scroll
All content ©Amy Silverman | Site design & integration by New Amsterdam Consulting