Maggie and Annette

So we lost two remarkable women this week.  Margaret Thatcher redefined what women were supposed to do on the world stage.  Annette Funicello defined a generation.

I think that as the proto-female statesperson, the Iron Lady had no choice but to be a polarizing figure.  When she came to power in 1979, Britain was a nearly-broke, bureaucratic nanny state.  She sought to undo the nationalization of nearly everything in the UK by the Labour Party, who were in power from 1964 to 1970 and again from 1974 to 1979.  As a member of the Tory, or Conservative Party, she championed private enterprise and personal self-reliance.  And as a lady of principle (even above politics), she sought to make these changes rapidly.

As a result, she was vilified by the likes of Sinead O’Connor, Billy Bragg, Elvis Costello.  Her own party was mostly lukewarm to her radical notions of reinventing -- and revitalizing -- Great Britain.  The moniker “The Iron Lady” was deposited on her by the Soviet Union; keeping her own counsel, she essentially jawboned a reluctant Parliament into adopting her vision. 

This vision was not without casualties.  The poor and disenfranchised felt the result disproportionately; but the wealthy also felt the sting of her tectonic shift in Britain’s social, industrial and military policies.  Her high point had to be the victory over Argentina in the spat over the Falkland Islands.  She led the UK to a decisive triumph through force, guile and propaganda.  (At one point in the war, British intelligence let slip that the UK had several nuclear submarines on the way to the South Atlantic.  In fact, it was a mere ruse to rattle the Argentines into second-guessing their own strategy.)

Her lasting legacy is the Britain of today.  After her success in refashioning British life, the Labour Party, in the guise of Tony Blair, moved decidedly to the right.  My British friends begrudgingly admire her and her contribution to Britain.  Like her or not, she helped fabricate the stronger England of today.  Like her or not, everyone respected her unflinching principles.

If Maggie was polarizing, Annette Funicello was unifying.  True confession:  Annette (one of the few personalities who is immediately recognizable by her first name only) was my first boy crush.  At the tender age of six, I was mesmerized by her Mousekateer ears, her shock of dark hair, those brown eyes and that amazing poise.  The very first 45 rpm record that I ever bought was on the DisneyLand label:  Annette singing “Don’t Jump to Conclusions,” with a B-side of  “How Will I Know My Love.”  I wore the grooves out, playing that ad nauseum on the family’s Magnavox stereo console. 

By her own admission, she wasn’t the best singer, or the best dancer, or the prettiest Mousekateer (that last distinction, in a rapid poll of my contemporaries, goes to Darlene).  Upon hearing of her passing, I was transported back to sitting in front of that Magnavox turntable; just for grins, I pulled up those now-ancient recordings on iTunes to give them a memorializing ear.

Annette was right.  She wasn’t the best singer.  By a long shot.

Having said that, in the mid-Fifties, she received more fan mail than Mickey Mouse himself.  She transcended child stardom to the legendary Beach Blanket modesty (rumor was that she did not actually have a navel).  She even mocked herself as a pitch celebrity for Skippy peanut butter in the 1987 movie “Back to the Beach,” in which she played a doting mom with a panty full of nothing but jars of Skippy.  (I loved that scene.)

When she announced her diagnosis with multiple sclerosis in 1992, she did so philosophically.  With the good, comes some bad.  Her grace and that amazing poise served her well to the very end.

In the end, then, both of these remarkable women left their respective mark.  Thatcher made women heads of state more than plausible – she made that certain resolve desirable.  And while many of today’s female politicians can be said to be polarizing, none command the respect of The Iron Lady.

Annette, with graciousness and class, is a jolting counterpoint to today’s female celebrities – most of whom can’t seem to keep their panties on, let alone hide any part of their anatomy.

Both women are now part of a different time.  And I think we’re all the poorer for their passing.