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Carrie Fisher is a year older today and LAist, for one, is grateful for that fact because she's still around for us to enjoy. Fisher should be the patron saint of Los Angeles. She's the consummate Angeleno: grew up in Beverly Hills as the offspring of glamourous Hollywood stars, became a global icon herself via the "Star Wars" triology, lived the LA "high" life as a drug addict, crashed, burned, crashed, burned, turned the detritus of her life into witty books and scripts and now raises a child with a man who "forgot" to tell her he was gay. She's managed to remain down-to-earth, funny, and wise despite living her life in the public glare. She's simultaneously idolized and pitied by millions. How can you resist a gal who once quipped "(On merchandising for "Star Wars") I signed my likeness away. Every time I look in the mirror, I have to send Lucas a couple of bucks."
And she used to throw an annual kick-ass birthday celebration with Penny Marshall. Does she still do that?
Los Angeles should imitate the French, who select the profiles of famous French women to represent their national symbol, Marianne. This LAist is such a "Star Wars" geek that if Fisher's likeness were indeed immortalized as a statue representing our fair city, we would insist that the statue mimic Han Solo's iconic pose in "The Empire Strikes Back" as he's carbonized for transport back to Jaba the Hutt.
When Western society finally devolves back to paganism, we could make little altars to our LA goddess using these miniature Fisher statues and Princess Leia figurines.
Wonder if Lucas would give LA the rights...
