I was working as an assistant entertainment editor for Glamour magazine in New York back then. A publicist called to pitch a bizarre play involving Debbie Harry and Andy Kaufman wrestling. My editor didn’t think our readers would be interested in wrestling, but they were interested in knowing what Blondie was doing. She told me to “check out” the rehearsals during my lunch hour.
This was April 1983. This was the year Karen Carpenter died of not eating and Tennessee Williams died choking on an aspirin cap. We were all dancing at places like Area to “Beat It.”
When I saw that the stage was a wrestling ring meant to look like one in Atlantic City, I knew I’d never write about it, not for Glamour. I sat in a bleacher-style seat, one seat away from Debbie Harry, who had a white towel around her neck even though she wasn’t sweating. She was no longer the petite blond of Blondie. She was chunky and she had red hair and she got up to move around the ring with Andy... Continue Reading