The other night I was watching the movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” I knew it was made in 1977, 35 years ago, but the suburban life it parodied looked perfectly normal to me. The ranch house with a power boat on a trailer sitting in the driveway, the 25-inch TV on a metal cart, the Big Wheel all-plastic tricycle, the lack of instant communication by cell phone—all of it—must seem antique to many, but not to me.
The movie prompted me to Google Teri Garr to see whatever happened to her. I loved the characters she played: the sweet, bemused young woman, so unaware of her own sexiness, ditzy, but good-naturedly struggling to comprehend the world around her. She played them so well it is hard to imagine her as being any different herself.
Like most of us, the news was both good and bad. Now 67, she suffers from MS and in 2007 had a brain aneurysm that was fortunately found and repaired. No longer the ingénue, she is still instantly recognizable, and from all reports, is still funny and upbeat.