The things that shape you…

Yesterday we lost Dolly, and today Tim Curry.

What a change it was to see the world mourn Dolly almost in unison. You know someone has left a pretty extraordinary legacy when almost everything you read is filled with love. Sure, there were a few scattered conspiracy theorists, but I guess that’s part and parcel of the world we live in now.

And even if Dolly did do something ‘wrong’ along the way, I feel like she had the kind of heart that probably believed she was doing it for the right reasons.

And then today, Tim Curry.

I think his death stands out for me, but probably for different reasons than you might expect.

When I was 13, our school took us on a nighttime excursion to see The Rocky Horror Show.

Looking back, I’m not entirely sure who thought taking a bunch of 13 year olds to Rocky Horror was a good idea, but I’m forever grateful they did.

I remember walking into that theatre and feeling like I’d entered another world.

It was dark, the doors were locked behind us and once everyone was seated, the characters began moving amongst the audience.

They were outrageous, provocative and incredibly sexual in their manner. They’d trail a hand across your shoulder or run their fingers lightly along your side as they passed.

It was 1978. A group of 13 year olds being taken to Rocky Horror and having scantily clad adults flirt their way through the audience probably wouldn’t get past the permission slip stage today. But it was a different world back then.

There are things we encounter throughout our lives that somehow change us. And that night, I took a little piece of that aesthetic home with me. At that age, I didn’t really know the significance, but I think it made my world a little bit bigger.

Rocky Horror was almost cultish back then. You either got it or you didn’t. And if you got it, you became part of this strange little world that seemed to exist completely outside the mainstream.

It became part of my creative DNA. It influenced my style, my love of the unusual, probably even my appreciation for people who aren’t particularly interested in fitting neatly into whatever box the world has prepared for them.

In my mind, Tim Curry became an icon. He was my introduction to self expression.

So hearing that he died feels strangely personal. Not because I knew him, obviously, but because something he created found me at exactly the right age and became a part of the person I would eventually become.