I say OUR Roy not meaning to be presumptuous, but because he was someone we knew at one time when things were not so good; he was one of the good parts and we always wondered what became of him.
In our little Los Angeles suburb community in the 1960's, along Foothill Boulevard in La Canada, I don't think there had ever been any place remotely resembling the salon named "Hepsibah's Bebespooners". That was Roy's place and to me, it was a memorable and most wonderful salon, the likes of which I have never again encountered. My mother used to shop at "Eleanor's" dress shop on Foothill; Eleanor had praised Roy to the skies to Mother, urging her to go there to have her hair done. My mother had started going to Roy's and was so gratified with what he was able to do with her hair, which she normally gave up on and just flung back into a ponytail (using the rubber band from that morning's newspaper).
When we lost our Dad on a Tuesday afternoon, January, 1969, our world was rocked and my brothers and I were pretty much in stunned shock those first days. Mother took me to the Broadway Department Store in Pasadena to buy a dark navy suit and coat and a hat . . . then on Friday, the day before the funeral, she took me to Roy's to see if something could be done for my hair. I was a mess, could not stop crying (my brothers were more stoic, it seemed to me).
It seemed that I was there for hours. He would do things with my hair between other customers. During those years, I had been using a concoction of peroxide, lemon juice and Life conditioner. Somehow Roy took my hair and cut it, took it all the way to platinum blonde, I guess you would call it. He set my hair, brushed it out, styled it - then it seemed like he did it all over again. I was amazed at what he was able to do with and to my hair, it was like it was his canvas. Seemed I would be on the verge of eye watering and he would launch into the next phase of my transformation. He was just so incredibly kind and I felt like I was coming back to life again. I think I had my first cup of coffee that day, too. It was all very bracing and unexpected.
My life lesson from that day when I was sixteen is that getting your hair done can be therapeutic. . . it may not be able to heal a broken heart, but it can give a needed "time-out" for the mind to be distracted. Maybe all that shampooing and brushing has a salutary effect on the brain.
Since the advent of Google, I have tried at various times to see if there is still a "Hepsibah's Bebespooners" somewhere in this world. Perhaps I have not spelled it quite right yet; I have tried many ways, and Googled the various spellings along with the name "Roy". So, now, being one of those out in there in Meryl Streep's appreciative audience, it is just wonderful to see that our favorite actress knows exactly what happened to Roy. To think that he has been part of her movies that we have watched repeatedly over the years is pretty wonderful.
So, from two fans from long ago, congratulations, Roy!