I was 20 when I really first became aware of Marilyn Monroe.  I knew who she was of course and that she died young and that was really it.  I knew she was also featured in the first Playboy, but I don’t know of I ever saw the picture at that point.  I was driving across the United States with my friend Rob.  We got to Los Angeles, the furthest spot on our drive from home.  We were in some tourist trap store on Hollywood Boulevard while out checking out the stars on the Walk of Fame.  On the wall of the store was a life size poster.  It was this picture:


I was instantly in love.  I still have the poster rolled up with a couple of other posters.  I had that poster on my wall for the next few years.  I have seen a few of her movies through the years since then and I have read a couple of biographies.  It may seem immature or disrespectful or whatever, but the truth is that on that day in August when I was 20 years old, I fell for Marilyn.  It is 24 years later and nothing has changed.  That puts me right up there with, what? How many millions of others?  I don’t care.


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