by Neena Strichart
With the passing of Joan Rivers, the world has lost another great comedic wit. I have been a fan of hers for as long as I can remember. Through the years, I so enjoyed watching her tell her stories on various television shows, and what a hoot it was to hear her utter her ever-present mantra, “Can we talk?”
Back what seems like a lifetime ago, my former husband Cliff Krieger and I went to Las Vegas to see Joan Rivers perform. Also on stage that evening, as Joan’s opening act, was comic David Brenner; after the show I met David in the elevator and got his autograph. The year was 1981.
At that time I was a 26-year-old, leggy, thin, tall blonde. Since I was sitting next to my 66-year-old husband in the front-row-center stage of the Las Vegas Showroom, Joan Rivers spotted us immediately. We were pretty hard to miss— I wearing my fancy black dress with a fur coat draped behind my chair, and Cliff with his shock of beautiful grey hair and curly waxed handlebar mustache. Boy, did she tease the heck out of us.
First she asked if I was his nurse, granddaughter or girlfriend. When I replied that I was his wife, Joan quickly demanded to see my wedding ring. When she saw that I was sporting a pretty large diamond solitaire, she said that I was either his second, or more likely, his third wife. When I looked surprised at her accuracy (I was Cliff’s third wife), Joan declared that she knew, because in her experience she found that the third wife gets the biggest stone! Throughout the show she would ask if Cliff was still breathing, and at one point she suggested I double his life insurance and then get behind him and yell “Boo!”
At the end of the evening, Joan thanked us for being such good sports and suggested that I write to her to let her know how “well” (she used air quotes when she said the word well) things were going between Cliff and me and our 40-year age difference. Of course she rolled her eyes as if to imply that at Cliff’s age he probably didn’t have long to live. I spoke up and said that I didn’t think she wanted to be pen pals, but she insisted that indeed she would answer if I wrote to her. Believe it or not, she kept her word. Between 1981 and 1985 we exchanged three letters with one another. I also received one from her secretary with a listing of Joan’s upcoming Las Vegas shows for the year.
Each letter she sent was on pale-pink stationery. Although the letters were type-written, she signed them all by hand. One included a small button-type pin with the words “Can we talk?” printed on the front. I cherish those letters, and of course, they mean so much more now that she’s gone. How kind of her to stay in contact with a fan whom she made feel so special for one night in 1981.
Note: Although Cliff and I divorced after 10 years of marriage, he lived to be well over 90 years of age.
Years later I met and married my darling third hubby Steve. While getting to know each other, I shared my Joan Rivers pen-pal story with him. After hearing my tale, Steve walked across his living room and plucked a book off one of the shelves. Smiling from ear-to-ear, he showed me a book called The Life and Hard Times of Heidi Abromowitz. It was written and autographed by Joan Rivers. He had picked it up at a used-book store. We later compared the signatures, and yes, his book was really signed by Joan Rivers.
Rest in peace, Joan. Thank you for touching our lives.
