Sue (Broph) Brophey and I cemented our friendship doing 85-mph in her green MGB up the 400 on a rain-slicked late afternoon. It was back in the mid-seventies. Back when you didn't wear seatbelts and you could smoke 50 DuMauriers between you without cracking a window.

We were on our way to a job. She was Global Television's "crack, ace" PA and I was her anxiety-ridden "I'll-never-be-able-to-add-in-60s" trainee. When we turned out onto Barber Greene Road, we barely knew each other, but by the time we reached the "future site of Canada's Wonderland," we were fast friends. We had much in common. We both grew up in the deafening suburbs of North York and when we were 18, grabbed hold of a friend and got the hell out. We both skipped the university experience in favour of working our way up in jobs that wouldn't require a suit, pantyhose or a 35-story elevator ride. We both loved Rondstadt, Joni and singing in harmony. We both felt a giant confidence that would occasionally be off-roaded by searing insecurity. But the glue that bonded that trip, however, was the laughter. Sue Brophey was funny.

Tumbling out of the car that day, we went on to share countless experiences - cars , apartments and drives down the 405. We have celebrated victories and beaten down heartache. We've discussed everything from children, husbands, dogs, parents and siblings to intricate, multi-layered worst-case scenarios. Whenever I have a problem or there is something I just can't wrap my head around, I know that Sue's quick, halogen-bright mind is just an IM away. Sue may use Google, but I use her. How she remains so generous with her time while raising children, maintaining her spot as the country's top producer and building a formidable performing career as "Warm-up" woman is beyond comprehension. But then again when you are one of the smartest funniest people in the room, anything's possible. Including turning 50.

Happy birthday old friend,
Love, Deb

 

 

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