Just when you thought Brothers & Sisters could get no better Rob Lowe shows up. I first fell in love with Rob Lowe when Hotel New Hampshire came out. That was in 1984. We go back a long way. I met him a couple of years ago. I was sitting at Oriel’s wine bar in Sloane Square having a drink with my great friend Carla. He walked past us.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Carla. “I just have to do this.” I sprang from my seat, accosted Rob and told him he was the first love of my life. He was sweet. It probably happens to him at least twice an hour. He even said hello to Carla who was busy muttering “shameless” into her wine glass.
“Come see my play while you’re in town,” he said, grinned that cheeky grin and walked away. I did go and see his play, he was in A Few Good Men. He played Tom Crusie if you know what I mean.
Anyway, this has all got me thinking. Are soap operas the equivalent of the romantic novel? Are they the replacement for books like Pride & Prejudice, Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre? And if so, are we a new generation of Emma Bovarys, constantly dissatisfied because Rob Lowe is not about to show up on our doorstep?
I was just wondering.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2009