“Don’t talk about yourself; it will be done when you leave,” said Wilson Mizner.

Well, I’m not “leaving” my spot here writing this column, so maybe it’s all right if I say a few words about what happened in the past few days. I have decided it is quite exhilarating to be fired, at the age of 86, from a job you’ve had for 14 years. Fortunately, I seem to be healthy so I’m forging ahead.

I do want to say that I am in love all over again with ABC-TV’s Bill Ritter, guardian of the six and 11 PM news in NYC, because in discussing the end of my affair with the New York Post tabloid, he described me as “Eighty-six – going on 40!” It was almost worth losing a salary and a daily tenure of 33 years in New York newspapers just to hear those words. Mr. Ritter abandoned his journalistic “cool” in this outing, enveloped me in a warm embrace when we finished talking and even put it right on the air without editing out his hug. My hero!

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Actually, many good things happened since I lost my day job. For one, I am so old-fashioned that I usually have my e-mails printed out. On February 2, I was under a load of missives of congratulations for living so long. Today I have many more from people expressing love, concern and thoughts about the future of news – TV, print and web  journalism. 

One phone call I had yesterday was from none other than Carol Burnett who said, “Liz, I think you have fallen a step up in leaving the New York Post.”

It didn’t hurt anything that reporter James Barron and his editors put me on the front page of The New York Times on February 25. I was a little disappointed that they didn’t use the gag line repeated to me this week: “WILL THE COL ALLAN FAN CLUB COME TO ORDER!” (Mr. Allan is the Australian editor-in-chief who fired me. But let’s get this straight. He had a perfect right to throw out someone who he felt was not in step with his tabloid philosophy. He was the boss.)     

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I liked hearing from my young friend Michael Bublé, who sang “Just the Way You Look Tonight” at my 80th birthday. We had a — believe it or not — very romantic dance that night … I also received a love note from the wonderful singer Josh Groban and loving support by e-mail from John Travolta, Tom Cruise and Sly Stallone. It was fun getting a blast from Madonna who asked, “What is New York without Liz Smith?” (Nice, but NYC doesn’t have to do without me yet, Madge) … My pal Candice Bergen sent me a cheerio message not appropriate for family reading and Whoopi Goldberg rang in from out of town. Barbara Walters had already chimed in. Then Tom Brokaw called to inquire after my situation. Oh, my word! 

I had a riotous conversation with the great actor Frank Langella and we decided that, as two people who didn’t get exactly everything each of us wanted this week (I lost a job; he didn’t win the Oscar), we’d get together soon and lunch. Frank is such a dynamite presence; I told him I observed him through the Golden Globes and Academy Awards carryings-on with much admiration. He is the consummate serious actor who was dealing with a merciless paparazzi “contest” atmosphere and behaved admirably, and with good humor, in the process. I still believe “Frost/Nixon” was a fabulous film, full of comedy, tragedy, and because Frank’s “Nixon” was so full and well realized, it has some of the best suspense I’ve ever seen on film. 

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