Despite my instinct that tells me to run and never look back, I will turn around, like Lot’s wife (or better yet, Robin’s brother) and will answer a few inquiries from posters on the thread. The John Edward reading was held in NYC and the paper I was perusing was the New York Times. There were numerous pages in the theater section that day and there were ads for countless Broadway and Off-Broadway shows starring myriad well-known actors, older and younger, male and female, from both movies and television. The advertisement for Valerie Harper’s play was actually one of the smaller ones which, upon reflection, may be the reason the show closed so darn quickly!
For those of you dismissing the “significant” connection John told me I had with her as actually being insignificant and supporting his own words of it not being about my simply liking her, I would normally agree. Except that I actually do consider it, in context, quite significant, even profound. Merely hours earlier, I made a conscious decision to call my friend specifically about Valerie Harper and then proceeded to have a 15 minute conversation about Valerie Harper, why Valerie Harper hadn’t been in the public eye for so long, how surprisingly young Valerie Harper seemed to look (at least in the small, photo-shopped ad!) and hoping to find a mutually agreeable date soon to buy tickets to see Valerie Harper’s play because we both appreciated Valerie Harper so much. I don’t recall having having had such an extended conversation about Valerie Harper since, oh, about the time of Rhoda’s wedding in 1974. Why did they ever let her get divorced anyway? So I’m not sure how one could dismiss that as insignificant, again, in context of what transpired THAT SAME DAY with John Edward insisting I had a recent Valerie Harper connection. And all the details I have just regaled you with I hadn’t shared with my sister which is why her initial blog comments about Valerie Harper may have been confusing, especially concerning the purchase of tickets. Who knew that three years later I would need to defend the minutiae of every moment of every action on that fateful day to a benevolent group of skeptics on some heretofore unknown to-me website?
And I must say I do think it’s a rather facile position to fall back on when trying to explain phenomenon like this to declare that’s it’s simply the subject’s memory of the event that is faulty. While I’m no Marilu Henner (another 70’s sitcom star) in the memory department, I’m not in Aunt Clara (Bewitched) territory yet either.
And, again, maybe in the end all this is like Resume said - “cool story, bro”, but what if it’s so much more?