Red Room Where the Writers Are

The first time I saw The Wizard of Oz, I was five years old. I was at my dad’s. “Do you know what’s going to be on, baby?” He said to me when picking me up for a weekend visit. “It’s The Wizard of Oz! “ I swear to God, I thought he was going to jump and down.

In his studio apartment, Dad made Jiffy-Pop popcorn and we watched the movie. I was so scared for Dorothy in the beginning; I couldn’t imagine anything worse than some mean woman taking your dog away from you.  The cyclone was especially scary, I must’ve looked worried and my dad said “It’s okay, she’s going to be okay.”  When she stepped into Oz and the screen turned into color, I remember saying “Oh!” like Dorothy did when the house finally landed.

I loved the movie, and one of the things I remember were that I wasn’t scared by the Flying Monkeys. I think I was at first but Dad told me “Baby, they’re actors. See? Look at the strings. You have nothing to be scared of.”  Thirty years later, I would try and tell my niece the same thing when she saw the movie for the first time when she started to cry. She looked at me as if she wanted to say, “I’m not buying it, sister. Those monkeys look mean.” (By the way, she now loves the movie and knows it by heart)

I also remember asking about Judy Garland. “Well, she’s gone now,” Dad said.

“Gone where?”

“Dead.”

I felt so sad I couldn’t stand it. Dead? How could Dorothy be dead? “She died?”

He must’ve seen how freaked out I was so he said, “Don’t worry, she was older when she died, and sick.” I was a bit relieved about this; still sad she was dead but glad she was old when it happened. In my universe, only really, really old and sick people died.

A year later Liza Minnelli was on The Muppet Show. Mom said to me: “See that woman? That’s Judy Garland’s daughter. Her name is Liza Minnelli.”

“Why does she have a different last name?”

“It’s her daddy’s last name. His name is Vincente Minnelli and he’s a famous director.”

 “Can they redo the Wizard of Oz with her as Dorothy?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. I think she might be too old.”

“Can’t her daughter be in it?”

“She doesn’t have a daughter.”

As I watched Liza singing “Cobacabana” and danced with several large Muppets, I wondered what it was like to have a mom that for at least ninety minutes was always young and alive.

I watched The Wizard of Oz every year when it was on CBS. It was before VCRs orDVD players, so I would look forward to it every year with popcorn and Cokes.  I loved the beginning  when there was the spiraling of the word Special and a male voice would announce, “ A CBS Special Presentation.” During the commercial breaks, Dad would call me and we would recite our favorite lines. “Sister, who killed my sister!” Dad would ask.

“Are you are a good witch or a bad witch?” I would say back.

In 1983 a station showed a movie entitled Rainbow, with Andrea McArdle as Judy Garland. The story started off with Judy (back then known as Baby Frances Gumm), off to perform with her sisters at a matinee on a Saturday.  I felt so sad for her—she had to work on a Saturday?  I loved the music; however, I was confused by something about Dorothy’s dad. When Mrs. Gumm (Piper Laurie) confronts him about an affair, saying “It’s bad enough you cheat on me. Why do you have to do it with another man?” I thought, wait a sec, Judy Garland’s dad was gay?  I kind of knew was gay was, but how could he be gay? He was married and he had three daughters. He couldn’t be gay.

The movie goes on to show Frances turn into Judy, and wanting, wanting a big starring role in an MGM movie. She’s told she is too chubby, and they make her go on diet pills.  In one of the scenes there’s a close-up of the pill bottle. I looked at my mother and asked: “Why are they giving a close-up to the pill bottle?”

“That’s how Judy Garland died. It was an overdose.”

An overdose. Oh, wow. This was a year after John Belushi died, and all people who did drugs were Evil. How could the woman who portrayed Dorothy be evil, though?

The next time I was at the library, I went to the biography section. I went to the G’s and picked up a random biography of Judy Garland.  I went to the index and flipped to where it said Garland, Judy. I looked up “death of,” flipped to the end of the book, and found out that in June 1969, Judy Garland went in a bathroom in a London apartment she was renting and took pills. Later, her last husband Mickey Deans found her, dead.  I remember thinking but she wasn’t an Evil person, just sad. I wondered if, when she was on the floor, was it like when someone dies in the movies and their ghost floats over the body? She might’ve looked at herself for a moment, then saw her dad. Frances, come on! Everyone is waiting for you!  How could she say no to her dad?

 I remember putting the book down and walking out in the late summer day. I wondered why there wasn’t anyone like the Scarecrow or the Tin Man to help her. Was it because she left the Yellow Brick Road too soon? I wasn’t sure. I walked home, wondering about Frances Gumm, wondering how she got lost.