Charlie's Mercurial Angel

Farrah Fawcett and Lynda Carter fought over me, and I bet they didn't even know it.

I was a typical red-blooded, American boy with raging hormones, and that's why Farrah and Lynda fought for my attention, along with the other boy stuff, i.e. the sports pictures and posters on my bedroom wall.

Count me among the bajillion of boys who had the famous Farrah poster adorning their wall. It's about to appear later in this post, so stay tuned. But chances are you've seen it, whether you're a boy or a girl: Farrah, in a swimsuit, playing with her famous curls, smiling brightly at the camera, her big white teeth able to light up the room even if your electricity went out.

Lynda Carter's poster was a little more toned down. She was wearing a man's dress shirt, knotted just above her midriff, sleeves rolled up. Her look was kinda "come hither", and her hands tugged gently on the belt loops of her pants. It was farmer's daughter-ish, whereas Farrah's was pure, unadulterated cheesecake.

The Farrah poster -- she was Farrah Fawcett-Majors back then, married to actor Lee Majors (what a pair THAT was) -- and the Lynda poster were separated by a window in my room, though they shared the same wall. I was 14, give or take a few months, when they went up. I don't even know where I purchased them. I assume I purchased them. My folks certainly wouldn't have sprung for such fantasy material. But with a boy's own money, how are you going to say no? Can't keep the bottle corked forever. So to speak.

I bring all this up now because Farrah Fawcett lies dying in a hospital in Los Angeles.

She's unconscious, the reports say, and in critical condition, suffering from a relapse in her fight with rectal cancer. Longtime love Ryan O'Neal, the reports say, has been by her side since she was admitted on Thursday.

Doesn't look so good.

The Farrah poster -- the most famous one, as what adorned my wall -- came out in the peak of her popularity, circa 1976-77. Girls all over the country began wearing their hair like Farrah -- curly, parted down the middle, and feathered. Charlie's Angels was beginning to enrapture male viewers, of all ages, from coast to coast.



I found this by simply Googling "Farrah poster"

The fact that Farrah, a former beauty queen and model, couldn't act her way out of a paper bag proved irrelevant.

But she got better -- at acting. If you doubt me and snicker, rent a copy of "Extremities", the film version of the play about a young woman who manages to exact revenge on her rapist in her apartment, even as her own roommates beg her to stop.

It's some good stuff. Farrah Fawcett impressed the hell out of me with that performance. I didn't think she had it in her.

But Farrah couldn't be Farrah forever. Instead of building on the momentum from "Extremities", which was well-received by critics who were likewise surprised and impressed, she was unable to really make that transition from cheesecake to main course.

The result was a cartoon-like version of herself, exacerbated by a meandering, painful-to-watch appearance on Dave Letterman's show one unfortunate night in 1997. Farrah was wasted. High as a kite on something, the substance never confirmed.

If you haven't hit your wincing quota for the day, click here and see for yourself.

What's worse, she began having plastic surgery and so didn't even look like herself when she went on Letterman's show. But she looked enough like herself for us to know that it was her sitting next to Dave, bombed out of her mind.

It was a sad beginning of the end of her career, such as it was.

O'Neal didn't help. He never does. His antics, which included allegations of physical abuse, no doubt added to Farrah's state of mind.

The cancer invaded Farrah's body in 2006. It went into remission, but now has seemed to returned with a vengeance. Cancer -- the mind-messing disease. It fools you into thinking you've beaten it, then it comes back and tells you to f*** off. And then usually has the last laugh.

Farrah's dying. I'm sure of it. These things, once reported at this stage, hardly ever turn out for the best.

One of Charlie's original angels is about to sprout wings.