Musings & Meanderings

Dusty Cohl died yesterday, and much of my day has been suffused with memories of him. Of the many people I rarely see any more, largely isolated as I am by physical disability, Dusty was one of the few I have often and truly missed.

I see him on the terrace in Cannes, where the inspiration for the Toronto Film Festival was born and nurtured. He’s wearing the hat, and toying with one of the beloved cigars he missed so much in later years. His magnetic and magical charm is irrepressible, infusing the gathering with whispers and waves of inspiration. This charm lives on, flowing like a pure mountain spring from an elemental source. Its sound deepens occasionally, heavy with a lifetime of experiences, but it is never poisoned or blocked.

I see him with Joan, the strong and beautiful woman he loved and shared his life with. Their dynamic could fill volumes, deeper and richer than an entire festival of the films they both loved. My arms ache to give Joan a hug, even knowing that it could barely acknowledge her loss or provide much solace, but still wishing to pay tribute to both of them, to their certain knowledge that every expression of caring matters.

It is a weekday morning, several years ago, and I’m meeting Dusty for breakfast in the deli where he held court for so many years. The day has dawned gloriously, with a crisp morning chill being gradually dispersed by a vigorous sun in a perfect azure sky. It is the closest approximation possible in Toronto of a perfect Cote D’Azur morning. We meet, both look outside, and without discussion Dusty asks for service on the empty patio. The morning chill is still resisting the powerful sunshine, making the brilliant light sparkle like diamonds. The sparkle matches the wit and intelligence in Dusty’s eyes, even as we catch up and he tells me about a life that’s slower, about rhythms of aging. His words melt away in the gathering warmth, evaporating like the dew, and what remains throughout our meal is the vitality and joy that was Dusty, brimming with pleasure at the astonishing panoply of life and ideas which surrounds us.

Of the many splendid things with which you gifted our lives, Dusty, I have most valued your honesty and integrity. Au revoir, mon ami.