And the episode of The Golden Girls with Dorothy’s lesbian friend is on. It’s still just as awkward as it was when it originally aired.
…and I’m so exhausted. Can’t believe I haven’t posted more this week, but maybe I have been spreading myself on the thin side.
On another topic, I had forgotten that on this episode of The Golden Girls, Dorothy calls Merv Griffin the “anti-Trump.”
Summer doesn’t happen very often in Madison, Wisconsin, and it’s practically over as soon as it began. Today, the first of August, is the beginning of the end; prelims are due in 2 weeks, and school starts 2 weeks after that. I wanted to start a new, fun, multi-person blogsperiment or something, but I think I found something that will a) substitute, for now, and b) encourage me to post more, with better quality.
The idea? Soothing Summer Series.
Every day (or when I remember/get the idea), I will post something that eases my tension and pain and helps my mental/emotional health.
For today, August 1, I choose…The Golden Girls. Two hours every night on Hallmark channel is good for the heart, soul, and whatever bodily process causes you to laugh. My grandmother loved the show, she always said that “they always have something interesting to say.” I don’t know about that, but despite being an 80s-90s show, it’s still relevant, and, in a ironic twist, not dated for its age. The episode that’s on right now is the one where Rose, Blanche, and Dorothy all get the flu before this big charity banquet, and includes the epic line “if they can make cinnamon-flavored dental floss, how come they can’t cure the flu?” If you want to be wrapped up in some grandmotherly warmth but still laugh at jokes about sex, I prescribe The Golden Girls.
My all time favorite exchange is from the episode entitled “Stand By Your Man.”
Morning. ROSE and DOROTHY are sitting in the kitchen. SOPHIA enters, all dressed up.
SOPHIA: Come on, get dressed, we’re going to be late for temple.
DOROTHY: Ma, it’s Tuesday…and we’re Catholic.
SOPHIA: Oh. ::beat:: In that case, bacon and eggs.
Probably the funniest part of that sequence is the fact that the actresses who played Sophia and Dorothy (Estelle Getty and Bea Arthur) were both Jewish in real life.
Here’s an animated gif from the show to entertain you.
I’m pretty serious about this one.
Every time I scroll through my Facebook news feed, it’s garbage. Old garbage, new garbage, political garbage, garbage about racism.
It’s just plain bad news. Don’t do it.
I started writing this the other day but didn’t get around to finishing it.
Anyway, I keep getting sucked into this endless trap of suck. I mean, there are a few things that are worth keeping up with. One of my friends is going to give birth any day now, and is posting updates about contractions and such. Another friend posts a lot of cute kid pictures and funny stories, and I have a few more friends who get me with their witty one-liners or a funny meme or something. But if it’s a link to an article about something political, whether it’s race relations, the Presidential campaigns, Israel, gender discrimination – and now, the $20 bill changing to Harriet Tubman – I tend to not scroll past them as quickly as I know I should.
Yet, I still subject myself to it. I guess it’s important to me to know what’s going on with my friends, even if it is pictures of what they ate that morning or them checking into airports in exotic cities I’ll probably never get the chance to see. However, that doesn’t stop the Facebook feed, from becoming a dangerous place. Often times I’ve found myself practically agreeing with what a friend posts, even if it’s totally against my own belief system, because it’s well worded, or looks official, or something. And then I wander off and suddenly it’s two hours later.
Maybe I just need to get more positive friends.
Well hello, friends. I know it’s been a few days, most of which I’ve spent trying to stay awake, but while I’m in the middle of my Golden Girls marathon in honor of today being both what would’ve been my grandmother’s 104th birthday, and it being a day ending in y, here’s something fun.
I’ve been wearing a lot of bandanas lately; I started wearing them during my Summer Odyssey. I have six of them in varying colors and patterns, and they’re a great accessory to any outfit. They are also multi-functional. I usually just wear one around my wrist, but sometimes it’s a neckerchief, a handkerchief, a hair covering, a sweatband, a napkin, or just something to make knots in while waiting somewhere or nervous.
But today, I discovered a new way to wear a bandana: a hand sari!
So here’s how to wrap your bandana into a cute sari for your wrist.
Step 1: Turn your bandana into a thin strip.
Step 2: Place the center of the strip over the back of your left hand.
Step 3: Tuck one end under your thumb, and wrap the other end around your wrist.
Step 4: Pull the end under your thumb down your palm to your wrist, and knot the two ends.
And voila, you have a hand sari!
I need a life.
Sometimes, it’s Passover, and you have peaches for dinner with tuna for dessert.
And you have your apartment being shown tomorrow and everything is covered in matzah dust or books. Or both.
And you’re pulling out every trick in the book (games, food, Golden Girls, blogging) to avoid finishing your paper which you could do in about five minutes but you just don’t want to.
And you realize you can’t make matzah ball soup because you don’t have Kosher for Passover cooking oil which costs like $12.99 at the store.
And you realize you have about six hundred pages of reading over the next few days, in addition to APO and dance obligations.
And you’re having trouble enrolling for next semester because you probably waited too long to make up your damn mind about which classes to take.
And you just kinda feel like you’re waiting for something to go wrong.
Well, more wrong than being grabbed around the waist and freaking the fuck out in front of your entire dance class.
It’s been about a month since I’ve posted one of these, so here goes.
That’s So Jacob presents:
Episode 7: “I Got You Babe,” Betty White, Estelle Getty, and Bea Arthur (1990)
It’s a sign of the times.
There is something to be said about a performance that captivates you from start to finish, with not a second where you’re not tuned in to the action. This moment is among the best of many that made the 1980s/1990s sitcom The Golden Girls, well…golden. I say “golden” because it was a television series that had about 25 minutes on your screen and made the most of every second. Even though I did not watch this show growing up – I assumed that it was a show for old people, not just about old people – reruns of this show pop up on Nick at Nite or TV Land every now and then, and when they do, I tune in. If you’re reading this, you probably know what the show is about, so I’m not going to waste time explaining that, but I do want to acknowledge what made the show work: the four actresses, each with perfect comedic timing and the exceptionally-written script that soaked up every second of airtime and used it to its fullest potential. Despite the fact that the main characters were all older ladies, the episodes seem young and fresh even today.
A sign of a truly exceptional sitcom is one that is able to draw you in with absolutely no context. If I was flipping through channels and knew nothing of this show, I’d be drawn in by the music, the dialogue, and the oddly-dressed characters. You really don’t need any context to enjoy this scene; it works independently, on its own platform-heeled feet. Which is a good thing, because I’ve completely forgotten the context of what actually happens in this episode. How often does that happen?
Here’s the way I see it.
We open on Betty White (as Rose) sitting at the piano. A tiny woman walks into the room, even if you don’t know that she is Estelle Getty (as Sophia) you know exactly who she’s supposed to be. After a little banter, out comes the resident giraffe, the stately Dorothy, as portrayed by Bea Arthur. The stick-straight black hair looks so out of place on her and as they line up behind the piano, you can’t wait to see what they’ll do. Of course, they launch into Sonny and Cher’s iconic “I Got You Babe,” from the 1960s and the movie Groundhog Day. What solidifies the amazingness of this scene is encapsulated in one word; when Bea Arthur deadpans the word “Babe,” and flips her hair, that’s it for me. If there was ever a “Queen of the Deadpan” competition, Bea Arthur would have it all sewn up. But the scene must go on, and since hearing them finish the song is not that important now that we’ve milked the humor of situation, Rose gets flustered and starts off on a tangent, ending it with – you guessed it – a classic St. Olaf story. Sophia’s comment comparing Rose to Ernest Hemingway wraps it up nicely, and we’re onto the next scene.
I believe that today’s TV shows underestimate the viewer. This scene shows the right amount of “haha” funny and “serious” funny without stuffing it down our throats. These days, TV shows run the jokes into the ground, as if to tell the viewers “Hey! This is funny! Laugh you people!” rather than letting the situation illustrate itself. In interviews, Bea Arthur often said that this was one of her favorite scenes from any of the episodes, ever, and I’m totally down with that. It doesn’t take a lot to process it; just let the magic wash over you and bask in its shiny, fringy glow.
Here’s how Cher felt about The Golden Girls‘ interpretation of her torch song: