Retro TV

As a young child with older parents in the 1980’s, I remember having to watch the Golden Girls. I never really admitted to liking the Golden Girls to anyone before, but it had its moments. I do remember liking Bea Arthur the best out of Estelle Getty, Betty White and Rue McClanahan, as she was dry and funny and didn’t take any sh*t from her lame ex, Stan. And she always wore those long flowing outfits complete with jacket and/or scarf. And those shoulder pads…hey, it was the 80’s.

Then I started watching retro tv, and I discovered Maude. If you have never watched Maude, I will be starting a new thread on Maude as soon as I get the discs from Netflix.

Bea Arthur was born the decidedly unglamorous Bernice Frankel in New York City in 1922. She soon moved with her family to Maryland, went to high school in Pennsylvania and college in Virginia. She returned to NYC to study drama at the New School. She appeared on stage as Lucy Brown in the English-language premier of Kurt Weill’s Threepenny Opera, going on to play Yente the Matchmaker in Fiddler on the Roof and Vera Charles in Mame with Angela Lansbury. Arthur went on to reprise the role in the film version with Lucille Ball as Mame.

And then there’s Maude…

Bea Arthur was originally cast as Edith Bunker’s feminist cousin as a foil to the overt sexism of Archie Bunker in All in the Family. She made such a splash as the acid-tongued Maude Findlay that CBS made the smart move and gave Bea and Maude their own show. And what a show it was. Covering all kinds of controversial material, the apex of the series in terms of scandal came in the two-part “Maude’s Decision” episode, in which she decides to end a late-pregnancy with a *gasp* abortion. You think abortion is controversial today…many CBS affiliates refused to air the episode, which, hello, means that everyone who might not have watched the show in the first place tuned in to see what all the fuss was about.

Arthur needed a change after six seasons. She took a break, danced in the Mos Eisley Cantina in a Star Wars holiday special. Then she turned again to sitcoms in the Golden Girls. She was a perfect complement to Betty White’s ultra-nice, ultra-naive Rose from St.Olaf and the overly promiscuous Blanche (McClanahan). [A little tv trivia for you: White was originally cast as Blanche, and McClanahan as Rose; but White had already played a slut on The Mary Tyler Moore Show and McClanahan had already done sweet and innocent on... ta-dah... Maude. Both actresses feared being typecast and agreed to switch parts.] But the best combo came from Arthur’s play off of her “mother” Sophia, played by the younger Estelle Getty. Getty’s ascerbic tone played right into Arthur’s deadpan sane-among-the-crazy Dorothy.

For younger viewers, you may have noticed Arthur’s guest spots on Futurama as the Femputer when Fry and the boys are forced to make it with really large women in “Amazon Women in the Mood.” She also played Dewey’s babysitter in an episode of Malcolm in the Middle in which she likes dancing to ABBA’s Fernando.

Bea Arthur survived an incredible 7 decades in the entertainment industry, and that is no small feat. For Maude alone, she is a star in the television history firmament.

I say, rest in peace, Bea Arthur. You made me laugh and think, and for that, I thank you.

Bea Arthur, Maude, Golden Girls, Futurama, Malcolm in the Middle, Star Wars

So maybe it is just me, but I am thinking that the episode titles for One Day at a Time are not exactly on par with something like The Mary Tyler Moore Show. There’s no clever innuendo, or playful turns on words or other titles. I mean, “Super Blues” is about the Super having the Blues. And that is one of the more clever titles…sigh.

We open on a stressed out Romano-Cooper household. Julie is freaking out on Barbara about earrings, Ann is freaking out on Julie over pantyhose, and David arrives. It’s a party, and it was David’s idea for Ann to host a party. Ann is seriously annoying and the scene plays a little broad with Bonnie Franklin yelling at Richard Masur to zip her up as she quickly walks away from him. The zipper is stuck and this scene is now going way too long when Schneider enters with Ann’s mail. Schneider fixes the zipper, because he’s the handy man. Get it.

Schneider notices the preparations for the party and starts offering his help, and then he finds out that she has invited several neighbors. But not him. He leaves…sadly. That is cold, Ann. This guy hangs out at your apartment all the time, and you didn’t think that he’d feel left out.

Ann again starts freaking out about this and that, and the garbage disposal is broken. So, guess who Ann thinks it is appropriate to call…Schneider. Barbie calls him and after she hangs up, Ann changes her mind. She is really starting to wear out her charm when it comes to being wishy-washy about men.

Misunderstanding Barbara’s call, Schneider arrives in full party-hardy mode, and we go to commercial.

Schneider’s idea of a fun time is to wear a hand-buzzer and leave whoopee cushions around for unsuspecting ladies. He is a laugh riot! Barbie says something about the disposal, and Schneider figures out why he is there. He says something about he is the superintendent and that what the superintendent does. I think what he is really saying is that he is not a “friend”, only a superintendent. Aw, I suddenly feel sorry for the very lonely Schneider.

Ann feels bad now that she didn’t think to invite Schneider. About time. She’s so insensitive. But the first guests have arrived. A fun couple that really liven up the place. The old lady sits on the hand buzzer. Hilarious.

Ann sneaks out of the party to go talk to Schneider and we get out third set for the One day at a Time universe: Schneider’s basement apartment. It’s as sad as his life.

Now, Pat Harrington gets a little screen time to ham it up and give us a little background on his character. He’s a big John Wayne fan. So am I. Gee, maybe this Schneider-based episode was well-timed. I never really liked him before, but maybe I am starting to change my mind.

During the exchange, Ann tries to bring it all back to her, but Schneider won’t have it. We find out he was married before, and Ann and Dwayne Schneider find that they have something in common — something called loneliness.

It’s a sweet moment. And almost a little funny, too.

Cut to “Later that evening” and Schneider is the life of the party.

One Day at a Time, Bonnie Franklin, Richard Masur, Pat Harrington, sitcom