The Ellen L. Bliss Memorial Cheesesteak

I have some very sad news I have been holding tight to my chest, because I don't know what to do about it and I hardly even know what to say. One of my oldest and dearest friends passed away on November 27. She was 66 years old.

You don't probably know her, but her name was Ellen Bliss. She was originally from New Jersey, but lived in a number of places, including Pennsylvania, California, England, and Massachusetts. I kept asking her, "When are you coming home?" as I hoped she'd eventually retire to the State College area to be able to hang out with and lunch with old friends.

We became friends in 1985 when I began working at Independent Learning at Penn State. It was the department responsible for offering courses at a distance, and how we loved our work! I was hired as a work/study student in May of 1985, when the internship I'd been trying to arrange for that summer didn't work out.

Ellen immediately took me under her wing, and she began inviting me over to her house after work. She loved to cook, and she was a GOOD cook. She'd laugh when I'd say, "I have a tomato, we can have a salad!" And we'd eat together, and then watch reruns of Airwolf (pronounced "ayuh-WOOF"). I started out feeling so alone in town that summer, but she looked out for me.

We became office-mates at Penn State and good friends for life. She dressed beautifully, accessorized beautifully, and had gorgeous, silky, long hair all the way down to her waist. She had a Jersey way of doing things, and I will NEVER forget riding in her car with her in traffic, where she got to emote and verbalize: "WHATTAYA WAITIN' FOR!??? AN ENGRAVED INVITATION?!???"

At the end of each work day, we'd walk out to our cars together. "Are ya ready, Boot? Start walkin'!" I'd say, a la the famous Nancy Sinatra tune. So we called each other "Boot." When she moved to California, she became "My Left Boot." And I, in Pennsylvania, was of course, the east coast Boot!

We were also both members of the Cinema-L listserv, which was formed for the purpose of discussing movies online with other film lovers. We were passionately engaged in that discussion, made friends there, even met some in real life.

I ended up doing my graduate research on the social dynamics of electronic communications, some of the very first, way back in 1997. Flame wars, love affairs, passionate engagement: all of these things are possible online! I laughed myself silly one day when Ellen described me to our online friends as "Meg Ryan, but with a thesaurus."

The years passed and I did not see her as much. The last time I saw her in person was a few years ago when our friend John Andrews died. We sat side by side at his service and cried our eyes out. We met again for breakfast before she left town, and I had no idea that was the last time I'd see her on Earth.

Ellen had cancer a few years ago and beat it, but she told me a month or two ago that it was back. She was scheduled to be part of some special new trial, and seemed hopeful and positive about it. I had no idea that the cancer would take her life. It happened so quickly, I don't even know what to say.

Some friends and I are planning to have a memorial lunch next week, so you will likely hear more stories about Ellen then. But here is just one more for now. We both loved food and we often went for hoagies or cheesesteaks together.

Our favorite cheesesteaks were the coast-to-coast from C. C. Pepper's, which you see here. Our favorite other type of hoagie was the tuna sub from Bonfatto's, and back in the day, Bonfatto's (now only in Bellefonte) had at least TWO restaurants in State College. Happy times, yes?

The cheesesteak you see is the coast-to-coast. It is a combo of the Philly and California styles. Which is very fitting, as she was the left coast Boot and I was the right coast Boot! A meeting of the ways!

Now, the funny thing about it is this. When Ellen moved away, I'd post pictures of my cheesesteaks on Facebook, and she'd leave a single comment: "I hate you." But I KNEW it was her special way of saying, "I love you." (Yes, people are strange that way.) She was just mad that she wasn't here to have one herself!

So I ate my beautiful, messy, delicious cheesesteak, after first waving it in the air and declaring, "This one's for you, my Boot!" I posted the photo on Facebook yesterday and tagged her in it. And here's the news: I would give ANYTHING for her to write "I hate you" below that photo, one more time.

Here's a song for my friend. For Ellen was a good friend, a beautiful person, one of the best and kindest people I've ever known. She was family I adopted - no, she adopted ME - during a time of greatest need, and I will never forget and I will always remember to be thankful. Thank you, my Bootie, for always being my friend.

My soundtrack tune is Andrew Gold, with Thank You for Being a Friend.