[cnn-photo-caption image=http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/2009/images/04/20/art.punky.brewster.jpg caption="Soleil Moon Frye in 2005." width=292 height=320]
First of all, I think we can agree that – with the possible exception of Boutros Boutros-Ghali – the coolest name in the world is Soleil Moon Frye. You know it, I know it, even Hugo Chavez knows it.
Ms. Frye – for those of you pretending to not know who she is – is the actress who rose to stardom playing lovable orphan Punky Brewster on the popular 1980s NBC sitcom of the same name. And let me say that if you really don’t know whom I’m talking about, well, I’m just sorry you hate America.
You see, long before stars like the Olsen twins and Hannah Banana, or whatever that Cyrus girl’s fake name is, there was Soleil Moon Frye. As a child, she was a staple of my weekday television viewing. As opposed to my weekend television viewing, which revolved mostly around the Solid Gold Dancers.
Each afternoon I would put on my jean jacket, tie a brightly colored bandana around my head and watch Punky get into new mischief. And sure, I still wear the same outfit when I watch Larry King, but back then I would furiously write letters to Santa during the commercial break asking for a golden retriever and an elderly foster parent.
After the show I would sit in my room, silently resenting Punky’s best friend, Cherie (pronounced Cherry) Johnson for living my dream of being named after produce. (Note to Soleil: The episode where Cherie got stuck in that refrigerator…I’m not saying I wanted her to die, I’m just saying you could have left her in there a little longer.)
Fast forward 20 years and it turns out that Soleil Moon Frye is now a Twitter powerhouse, @moonfrye, and co-owner of an eco-friendly children’s clothing store. She has about 250,000 Twitter followers, compared to my 3,000. If my math is correct – and it usually isn’t – that means she is 83 times cooler than me. And, let’s face it, you didn’t need Twitter to tell you that.
Anyway, imagine my shock and delight this past Friday when Soleil Moon Frye posted a link on her page to the blog I wrote about Ashton Kutcher winning the first-to-a-million Twitter contest.
I mean, I was already pretty excited, what with me single-handedly eradicating malaria and all, but this was beyond comprehension.
Friends who couldn’t have cared less when Angelina Jolie said hi to me, or that brief period when I was President of France, were through the roof with jealous curiosity.
Come to find out that Mr. Kutcher is godfather to Ms. Frye’s children. Which obviously raises the question: Why is Soleil Moon Frye not my godmother? All it would take is one phone call: “Hi, Aunt Sue, sorry, but you’re out and Punky Brewster is in.” I’d be hanging up before she knew what hit her.
I am, however, nothing if not a realist. So I know that – despite the Twitter link – the chances of Soleil Moon Frye and I becoming best friends are slim to none. Kind of like the chances of Gary Coleman recording my outgoing voicemail message.
Regardless, it’s just nice to see that she turned out so well. A pop culture icon turned tech-savvy entrepreneur.
It gives me a warm feeling. Or maybe my bandana is just tied too tight.
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