This morning, Aug. 26, 2026, I was driving to the Disney Lot in Burbank. I turned on the radio and they were playing “Sweet Transvestite” from the ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing the song again from that rock n’ roll musical but I was baffled. It’s just not the kind of song KCRW plays (or for that matter any of the rock radio stations in LA). Nick Harcourt came on after the song finished to announce the passing of Tim Curry at age 80.

These are some photos I took at Grammy Museum when they did an exhibit on producer Lou Adler whose club The Roxy in West Holywood opened its doors with the American premiere in 1974 of the stage show of Rocky Horror. The concept of the set was of an old abandoned movie theater. (Note: the photo angles are odd as I was trying to minimize the glare on the photos.)

A fairly long life. A beloved actor. I always enjoyed his performances which were both “big” but still retained something grounded and real. However, I haven’t seen him for a while and hadn’t realized that for the past 14 years, his life had been one of physical difficulty as he had survived a stroke and emergency brain surgery that had left him wheel chair bound, paralyzed on his left side and initially unable to speak. However, he taught himself to speak again and even was able to do some acting voice work eventually.

I felt this death so much stronger than a host of recent deaths of accomplished people, e.g. I’m sure many, many had that same feeling of loss I had about Tim, after the also recent passing of multi-talented, apparently very good person, Dolly Parton. Now, I never met Curry though I was about 6 – 8 feet away from him when I saw him perform at The Bottom Line in NYC in 1978 (or was it 1979?). The date is key – Curry came into my life at that time of profound change and connection, i.e. high school into college. My group of high school theatre friends spent a gloriously stupid summer (either after junior year or after senior year – again that part of narrative is fuzzy for me). We would get high every Saturday night then go to the Belmar (NJ) cinema to watch THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW to shout comic lines in unison in between the dialogue of the movie (or to throw toilet paper, etc. – the theatre closed later that year as it was too trashed). I went to the movie once in the West Village of NYC and found that experience lesser to the Belmar one. The New York audience was undisciplined and just shouted all through the movie obliterating the point of INTER-ACTING with the movie. The point was call and response, not chaos.

We dressed up a few times for a showing and my friend Michelle won the female costume contest as Riff Raff and later as Dr. Frank-N-Furter (lab coat version) and I won as Brad – in the not very visually amazing blue terry bathrobe similar to the movie, but more importantly, I won for my “performance.” I took off the robe, the walked around in tighty-whities where I proceeded to shake everybody’s hand in the front row with a “Damn glad to meet you.”

As Tim said in some recent interviews after the publication of his memoir “Vagabond”, he’s proud that the character he played helped people find freedom and acceptance. For me, going to the movie created connection, a release from self-censorship and good fun, but for my friend Michelle, it was something more, and her experience still touches me. She had what seemed to be a romantic crush on Curry from his Rock Horror performance. When Curry released his first album (my favorite song “Anyone Who Had a Heart”) and then came to the Bottom Line in NYC, we all had to go see him. We got there very early so we were either the very first people in line or nearly so. Michelle acted like she was a Beatles concert – not in constant screaming but rather by being in a delirious passion. She literally was in the chair next to the stage and had direct moments with Curry. (The Bottom Line had long tables perpendicular to the stage and I was at the other end of the table.) I remember she took a tissue from the stage that he used to sop up some sweat and holding onto it after the concert (later laminating it too!). Personally, I remember a really good showman. However, Michelle couldn’t remember anything – she was just so totally in the moment. Her glowing happiness from that concert still means so much to me.

She was one of my best friends, if not my very best friend, in high school. I was the Best Man at her commitment ceremony to Robin in NJ and then at her wedding to Robin years later in California when gay marriage became legal. Michelle latter would credit Curry in her life’s journey for she came to realize his Rocky Horror performance allowed her to express feelings for a feminized male, which was a key bridge toward her understanding and acting on her sexuality of female attraction. (I hope I’m expressing this properly, so forgive me Michelle if I made a mash of it.)

So thank you Tim for your commitment to your craft, for the wonderful acting and musical performances and for the freedom you inspired.

More photos from the original LA stage version of Rocky Horror at https://rockyhorror.fandom.com/wiki/Roxy_1974

Here’s a link to a wonderful rendition of WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN, that Tim did at the Bottom Line in 1979: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA5UK5YL8vw

The theatrical Curry as the Pirate King in PIRATES OF PENZANCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWzqcele1tY

I think most of his movies and TV shows are fairly easy to find, but for something different about the man’s courage, some post-stroke interviews:
Short one with Ben Mankiewicz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4i3u714nxQ

And a long live interview on stage with Adam Felber: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxoXfC0qDe4