Yes, today is Meg Ryan’s birthday. As you no doubt already know, I’m a huge fan of hers. I “discovered” Meg as a teenager—the way Christopher Columbus “discovered” America. Her mellifluous voice, sparkling eyes and unforgettable dimples very quickly became THE reason to watch a film. And that was before she pixied up her hair to a sizzling 10/10 on The Tinkerbell Scale.For a decade, between When Harry Met Sally… and You’ve Got Mail, Ryan reigned supreme. There really was no touching her for humour, genuine warmth, depth, great hair and dazzling kisses. Acting is all about connecting with an audience, and in that regard, Meg almost always delivered.My only regret of her career is that she never got to work with my other muse, the incandescent Michelle Pfeiffer. Not only was Pfeiffer the enveloping face of her generation, along with Ryan she harkened back to the golden age of cinema, when roles were tailored to suit the personas of the stars who were playing them.Could Pfeiffer’s talent for the withering one-liner compete with Ryan’s homespun put downs? I don’t know, but I think it would have been a match made in heaven.They could have done a comedy, they could have done drama, they could have done romance. In the end, they did it all but not together.