Tag Archives: Twitter

Cher Asked, I Tweeted

I’m such a hypocrite. It was only last night, as I was falling asleep, did I utter the following. “Why Tweet? Why use Facebook? What’s it all for? To what end? What is it going to accomplish? It’s all so overwhelming. What am I keeping up with?” And then this morning, before my coffee was brewed, I went on Twitter.

The first Tweet I saw was from Cher, asking if anyone knew anything about Weilea Maui (Earthquake/Tsunami in case you just crawled out from under a rock) because she has a house and friends there. The Tweet was posted only six seconds earlier. Yes, I thought that I would be the first to respond to her and yes, I thought that she would reply.

I wasn’t just any Tweeter. I had spoken to Cher once, on the phone, BT (before Twitter) and this would be a reconnection. Full disclosure: Cher was one in the holy trinity of entertainers that I was obsessed with as a kid. Barbra and Bette were the other two, in case you were wondering.

Years ago, my ex-husband was producing a band, whose lead singer was friends with Chastity (Chaz) Bono and Cher. What were the odds? Soon I was playing the tambourine with Chastity in my apartment and smoking cigarettes on my porch, talking about losing her father. I was dumbstruck, dumbfounded and just plain dumb. How could this be happening? A childhood dream come true. Almost. I still hadn’t made contact with Cher.

These friends often went to Cher’s house in Malibu to play Wise and Otherwise (an awesome board game) and most of the time, they’d stay overnight. I’d inevitably get a phone call asking if we could babysit their dog. I’d get mad for the last minute request and they knew I was annoyed. They were also keenly aware of my Cher admiration so they came up with a plan.

I came home from walking my own dog and my ex-husband told me that I had a phone call. He didn’t say who. I took my sweet time. I was pissed because there was a hole in the poop bag and I noticed it too late! I picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Cher.”
“Who?”
“Cher.”
“Who?”
“Cher.”

Sweet baby Jesus. It took three ‘who’s’ to hear her right. She must’ve been talking on a cheap phone. My face crimsoned and my ex started laughing.

I spoke, “I’m going to kill her.”
Cher laughed.”Who, Heidi?” I talked to Cher like I was talking to a close friend. I congratulated her on her star on Hollywood Walk of Fame.
I could tell that she was smiling, “Yeah, that was cool.”
I said, “I wish I could’ve been there.”
Then she dropped the bomb. “Would you take care of the dog?”
I said, “You know, Heidi’s got to plan better.”
Cher laughed again.
I said, “Maybe it’s that fucked up Atkins diet she’s on.”
Cher laughed even louder. I told her it was good to talk to her, wished her well and we hung up.

So you see, my expecting her to Tweet me back wasn’t that far fetched, was it? I mean she would’ve remembered my name, right? Yes, it was 13 years ago, what’s your point?