Fuzzy was driven, self-possessed and demanding of himself and everyone around him. I think he couldn't bear any competition, though. Oh, when he walked into a room, the charm simply dripped off him like manna from heaven, extremely elegant and always impeccably dressed. Both Gran and Fuzzy had exemplary manners; gracious hosting was an intrinsic part of life at the Ranch. He was a health freak, beautiful to watch when he moved, when he spoke, and when he looked you in the eye, there was a fire and twinkle of mischief there. There is a reason Edie is who she is, even now, cheating death, and I attribute her joie de vivre, personal flair and pizzazz to Fuzzy most of all.
Fuzzy could hold you captive for hours with amazing stories, jokes, and little poems. My favorites were always about riding or ranching. Once, Gran and Fuzzy were carefully picking their way through a planted field on horseback (naughty naughty - we were always told not to ride through planted fields) - toward the end of the farming field, a rattlesnake startled the horses. Neither Fuzzy nor Gran lost their seat but the horses ran back through the field exactly the way they had come, all zig zag and wily nily. He said that when horses are afraid, the blood no longer reaches the brain and they move on instinct only.
Fuzzy always woke early. He'd have this awful (at least to a child) bowl of yoghurt, molassas, brewer's yeast and god knows what all else. Blech! As I said, health freak. Then he'd head down to the studio to work until about 12:30, drawing, sculpting, reading on occasion, the music blasting. I loved his studio - had the best dance floor on the Ranch and it was huge, floor to ceiling books and an enormous fireplace. He'd do his exercises afterwards by the side of the pool, throw us out of the water so he could swim without our splashing about (control freak too). Then the bell up at the house would ring, announcing fifteen minutes 'til lunch would be served. We had to be dry, dressed and presentable, and most certainly on time.
Gran was much more frightening to me as a child. She had breakfast in bed, almost always by the time I came along in the family. It wasn't until I was in my 20s that we became really close. I think she preferred horses to children, frankly, and sometimes, I can't blame her. Imagine, having eight children, even with ample help. Hard on the body, harder still on the mind, I think. But Fuzzy felt, and often announced, that the world would be a much better place if it was exclusively inhabited by Sedgwicks. Since Fuzzy was the universe to Gran, she had child after child after child, every two or three years. I still think that was massively rude of Fuzzy to say 'populate the world with Sedgwick', but I'm a San Franciscan, and I am true to the melting pot culture of my city. Fuzzy and I didn't always see eye to eye but I was too little to ever let him know. He could be perfectly brutal and that was never fun.
We used to have huge Sunday lunches, with fascinating people coming up from Santa Barbara, and the invariable houseguests and family friends. Food galore, drink including this thing we called grog made of vermouth and some other liquor that was icky that I can't recall at the moment, oh yes, lemon rind also.... the art of conversation, the little dramas, the temper tantrums... meals can be challenging in any family, don't you think? I loved Sundays, so may laps to sit in, so much interest in us as children, and the stories stories stories going round the table. In the afternoons, those who did not nap went riding.
Gran and Fuzzy had huge circles of friends from all over the world, learned, interesting, curious and very verbal. Fuzzy was a complete and total extrovert, Gran an introvert, and painfully shy. He would tell his stories and rule the table with an iron fist. I remember being thwacked on my elbow by Fuzzy with the blunt side of a knife when I dared to put my elbow on the table - never did that again. I also remember him exploding at the table more than once and taking me outside so we could have a quiet meal, just the two of us.
Fuzzy died not long after finishing a bust of me - I was nine - it was the last sculpture he ever did. It's painful for me to see it as I know what mortal pain he was in due to the pancreatic cancer, and I was not the best model being entirely incapable of keeping still or completely closing my mouth for very long. I knew perfectly well that he was dying and that made me completely miserable. So, he would make up some game or competition to get me to do what he wanted - 'if you don't move until the big hand reaches the 12, you may have extra dessert today' or somesuch. I believe that he had a far easier time being with his grandchildren rather than his own children.
It wasn't until I was about 20 that Gran and I became really close. She was so alone, unwell and without the least interest in participating in life any longer. I lived with her for several years in my early 20s, hoping to make a difference in her life, but nothing worked. I took her on the train to San Diego for the Mozart festival, and she couldn't bear to leave the hotel. So then I took her again on the train, up to the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon. It was wonderful to see her happy on the trains. She'd tell me about traveling with her father in his own car, SP 100, which still exists over in Oakland just east of San Francisco. She could tell by the sound of the tracks what guage the track was! The car has red velvet everywhere, and its own monogramed silver. Oh, what a time they must have had during those years, traveling back and forth across the country.
They both loved Edie best of all, and they suffered and tried to help again and again and again. There was nothing anyone could do to deter Edie from living her life on her own terms. Just as Fuzzy and Gran did, for that matter. When you are 'above it all', owe nothing, have everything necessary for a comfortable life without working for it, well, it may not be the best thing for a human being. Something to do, somewhere to live and someone to love, we all need these simple things in life and I think people need to work to obtain a good, happy life. Luxury can be utterly poisonous in the long run, from what I've seen.
I deeply loved my grandparents and they loved us dearly, and they taught me more than any school ever did. Sorry to be so long on this, but once I start, it is rather difficult to stop the memories from flooding in...
Did not even make it through the clips......
I just knew this was going to happen....why oh why did this movie have to come out....I just HATE to think people are going to get their impression of Edie from this movie.... Here is something to Cheer us up!!
do you really like them??? 
And I definately can see the family resemblance of Kyra to Fuzzy!
