Cindy Lou despised Christmas, but kept her feelings to herself. She hated the forced merriness, the tired movies of visiting angels, days of reckoning, misspent youth, and the predictable moment of redemption. Her suppression of contempt for all things Christmas was not a self-defense mechanism only, but a sort of goodwill gesture to her fellow human beings. A simple, Oh, come on now, don’t be a Grinch, might set off a chain reaction within Cindy Lou at the molecular level and trigger a cataclysmic blast.
As a tot, Cindy Lou had won a small, but important role in a Christmas-themed docudrama, set in her hometown of Whoville. It was a huge box office success and critics called Cindy Lou: a natural!…a delight!… a dazzling cinematic presence!…a talent of unfathomable depth! Yet, she was beat out of an Oscar nomination for best supporting actress and for weeks had to listen to the uncontrolled rants of her embittered stage mother. Hollywood politics did not faze Cindy Lou, she was young and in demand; a tinsel town hot commodity. Wherever she appeared in public, crowds formed with fans pushing and shoving, vying for an autograph or to simply touch her person as if that would draw out fame and fortune for themselves through osmosis. It turned ugly when a crazed fan tried to cut-off one of Cindy Lou’s signature ponytails and her mother was forced to hire a bodyguard. The paparazzi captured the attack and sent the images around the world. Cindy Lou’s fame, already formidable, sky rocketed. Her image was worldwide, from tee-shirts in obscure African outposts to grand billboards in major European cities. Cindy Lou got the best seats in restaurants, threw out the ball at the open of the World Series and attended only A-list Hollywood parties; which is where she got her first taste of alcohol. Any clear, sober eye, outside of Cindy Lou’s bubble, could see no one had her best interest at heart.
Around the age of ten, Cindy Lou’s cute factor faded, and parts started drying up. She was drinking daily, sitting in a darkened room, playing her one big movie over and over again, emerging long enough to quarrel with her mother. At the age of sixteen, Cindy Lou took her mother to court and sued for emancipation. She won; but, sweet victory turned sour when she discovered her mother had blown all the money.
These days, Cindy Lou takes roles in the adult film industry, while awaiting the right vehicle to come along to launch her comeback. If you should happen to see Cindy Lou this Christmas, be so kind as to show her goodwill and not accost her with: “Yo! Ain’t you that little Cindy Lou Who? Hey, sing Fah Who for-aze for me! Come on, fah-who-for-aze-dah-who-dor-aze-welcome-Christmas-day !”
Epilogue
Cindy Lou is cast as Gypsy Rose Lee’s mother, Rose, in a Broadway revival of Gypsy. She draws heavily on memories of her own stage mother to give a stellar performance and wins a Tony award.
