Retro TV

Season One, Episode 5, original air date was October 10, way back in the great year of 1972.

[Disclaimer: Author was not alive in 1972 and cannot say with any authority whether or not 1972 was even a good year]

“Maude and the Radical”

Things are abuzz at the Findlay House. Walter is scolded by Florida for swiping her meatballs, and makes a lame joke about Black Power. Maude is throwing an important party, and she is freakin! 30 people? That’s not a party. But Maude is taking tranquilizers to calm herself down, so I think comedy is inherent in the premise.

And the party is for…drumroll, please…”one of the most important Black militant leaders in the country.” Then there are the jokes. A lame one about Julius LaRosa, whoever that is, and it seems that only one guy in the audience gets that one, but he really gets it. And the long-tailed cat in the room full of rockers joke that moves from character to character and from Hee Haw to the Dean Martin Show as the source.

Uh-oh, Florida is the only help that Maude can get to serve the party. and for some reason she is in a French maid’s outfit in order to do it. But Maude cannot, will not have Florida serve at the party. How would that look in front of the rich white guests, who left their black help at home?

Arthur arrives, and gives Maude more pills. He’s so great. I bet he was passing pills to Kimberly on Diff’rent Strokes. Aw, that’s mean of me. Sorry, Dana Plato. RIP.

If that is a robe that Maude is wearing a robe in the first part of this episode, it’s the most awesome bath robe ever.

Oh, bad news. The one black couple that Maude could muster up to attend her fundraising party cannot make it. Carol admonishes Maude about only inviting one black couple, and Walt says she should always have a “back-up black.” The only other black couple that Maude can think of is a boring couple that another couple knows, but black beats boring, and she calls her white friends, invites them and asks them to bring along that “lovely black couple” Maude met at their house a month ago. Like they are accessories. Smooth move, Maude. Maude gets shut down. Rightly so.

Florida is on her way out the door when Maude gets an idea. Oh, this will be good.

Maude is running the party, like a military general, and yet everything is going swimmingly. But no matter, she is bugging out on Arthur for more valium. Her behavior convinces him to humor her. She is awesome, and Arthur has to pry her martini from her hands.

Florida descends the staircase, and Maude names her “Mrs. Dubonnet, a guest.” Odd. She then parades Florida around in what looks to be a shout out to some type of “native” style. Maude starts downing alcohol by the rocks glass.

She addresses the party as “fellow liberals” and then she starts singing Some Enchanted Evening. Walt smartly cuts her off after two lines. Luckily, the party guests are all too high and white themselves to really notice Maude’s wackiness.

Seems that the still-absent Black Militant Leader just wrote a book called Give Us Colorado, a title that refers to his idea of the US giving Colorado to African Americans. This idea moves one party guest to ask “why Colorado? Blacks don’t ski.” Brilliant.

Florida is drafted to speak on behalf of the Black Experience. Arthur calls the charade out, and Maude deflects the question with more singing (about Sylvia, no less). But the gig is up. And then the truth comes out about the party being a fundraiser. Maude also starts insulting the guests before arguing with Arthur on his way out. Love her. Arthur and her need to sleep together to get over their whole sexual tension thing.

Ding dong! The guest of honor has arrived. Maude takes a belt of water, tosses the glass behind her, throws open the door, and welcomes the Man with the Afro (natch) to “an evening with Maude.”

She fesses up to Walt that she raised $1,000 for the Black Militant Leader. But wait, she was the only one left at the fundraiser? Oh, you, Maude.

Maude, Bea Arthur, Maude and the Radical, Maude Season One DVD, television, sitcom

This episode of Maude, “Like Mother, Like Daughter” opens with — wow, a surprise — Maude and Carol are bickering about Carol’s love life. Despite the theme, Florida adds some nice levity to the scene. The back-and-forth between Bea Arthur and Adrienne Barbeau is starting to feel a bit more natural as well now that the ladies are getting their sea-legs in the fourth episode of the first season.

However, this time Maude may have a point. Carol is about to go out with an “older…correction, old man” and Maude had dated him in the past before marrying Walter. Double-whammy. Maude is concerned that Carol is too dumb to know when she is the May in the May-December relationship, and this man, Russell Asher, is a novelist and totally self-absorbed. Maude is adorable in her “concern.” But whatever, this guy is loaded, so I say go for it, Carol.

Carol is wearing these weird hair clips that they used in the olden days as curlers or something. She is also wearing a body-hugging burgundy dress…growl. Adrienne Barbeau must have been the shit back then because she keeps getting these odd super soft-focus close ups.

Joke of the show: Maude explains to Walt that man also go through menopause, “they just haven’t had the bad press we women have had.”

Maude is equally charming when Russel arrives. And wow, this is a 70-year-old man — yowza! His suit alone is enough to make me forget my no-one-over-60 rule. Russell Asher is played by this guy, Cesare Danova, and I can swear I have seen him in something before, but if you check out his imdb page, he’s been in just about every old show out there, going back to The Rifleman and Daniel Boone and including McMillan & Wife, Mannix, Charlie’s Angels — and then I see it, Animal House. Bingo. He’s the mayor.

Russel and Carol are flying into NYC to tape the Tonight Show. NYC? Surely, that is a mistake…Carson taped in LA. Ah, true, Carson did tape in LA, but for the first ten years of the Tonight Show, he taped in New York. The Tonight Show moved out west May 1972, a few months after the airing of this episode. But I digress. Carol is going to Russell’s place in the city to watch the airing of the Carson show as they call it. Maude points it out to Walter that most people watch Carson in the bedroom. Florida confirms the sexual intent of Carol’s visit, as she took her toothbrush with her.

Next morning, and flowers arrive for Carol, who didn’t get in until 4 am and still hasn’t come down for breakfast. Maude was up, so she knows and frets. Walt is wondering why his parents had eggs every morning, but he is not allowed. Maude points out that his parents ate breakfast before they knew about cholesterol. Ha ha, a joke about the times and the new medical research.

Carol finally comes downstairs and she is totally over Russell Asher. She is defensive and evasive about the sudden change of heart, but Maude keeps goading her until she blurts out that Russell called her Maude’s name.

Bea Arthur’s slow turn to face the camera is priceless. Seriously, she is a goddess of comedy. Maude is genuinely happy about this turn of events, and she tells Walt about her triumph. Walt gets a bit jealous. Russell arrives, and Maude is precious in her arrogance around him, thinking that he still holds a torch for her.

But alas, the truth comes out. Carol called Russell out on his bigger-than-Hemingway ego, and he calls her Maude as in you are just like your mother while they are fighting. As Maude processes this, Carol figures out that Maude assumed that Russell called out her name while Carol and he were gettin’ it on. This brings Carol pleasure, as her mom is humbled.

But this little episode has brought Maude and Carol a little closer together, and that is kinda cute. This show is growing on me. Except for the weird little codas at the end of the episodes. In this one, Maude is freaking out on Walter, chasing him downstairs and waking Carol. Walt called Maude Sylvia. Kinda lame, and over done. But other than that, a very good episode.

Maude, Bea Arthur, Adrienne Barbeau, Cesare Danova, Tonight Show, sitcom, television, retro tv

Yeah, Maude arrived. I really, really love Netflix, and no, I’m not getting paid to write that (but I’m not sayin’ I’m not interested…hint hint, Netflix).

Alright, so in honor of Bea Arthur…let’s watch Maude.

The opening credits are a lot like the Mary Tyler Moore Show. I guess a driving montage was big in the early 1970’s, probably part of a larger campaign to not only promote the automobile industry, but also to promote urban flight as in the case of Maude’s move to the tony Long Island suburbs of New York City.

The set is totally All in the Family. Perhaps to let everyone know that it’s a spin-off. That is one thing I love about Norman Lear shows. He’s like the James Ivory of 1970’s television sitcoms. The production design is all obviously the same team.

As the episode opens, Walter is reading the paper in his chair, and Maude is anxious about Carol being late for dinner as Maude has to go to the hospital during visiting hours to see her friend, who had a hysterectomy. Oh, that’s a female thing, so let’s start with the feminism right off.

The doorbell chimes, and get this, it’s a super young Ed Begley Jr at the door asking for money for Vietnam vets in a college contest. Vietnam is pronounced funny. It’s like Vee ‘EHT nam. And Maude finds out his little scam — he’s selling magazines — and sends him off while making a comment about how lousy the Vietnam War is. Wow, feminist and political.

Maude is suspicious about Carol, and thinks she’s having an affair. Carol arrives home, pissy and wearing sunglasses. I think that means she has been crying. And then Maude explains that when a woman wears sunglasses in the house she’s trying to hide that she’s been crying. I’m so smart.

Maude presses the issue. Carol is being difficult, and the glasses are starting to annoy me. Carol removes them finally, and yes, she’s been crying. I think she’s touched.

Maude’s investigative skills turn up that Carol is seeing a psychiatrist. Oh, no, not a shrink. Hasn’t Bob Newhart taught us anything? So my summation of where this is going is that Maude won’t let this go, and instead she’s going to face the shrink herself and maybe with some comic consequences.

There is an odd scene at the dinner table and if anyone can explain it, that would be great. I guess it’s Maude trying not to bring up the subject, and it’s literally fighting to come out. Either that or Maude is constipated.

And then, the truth comes out. Maude thinks that Carol’s need for a psychiatrist is because Maude failed as a mother. Ah, reminds me of the Fear of Flying episode from the Simpsons…great episode. Maude starts droning on about how devoted she always has been as a mother, but Carol has no recollection, as she doesn’t remember the ages before 10. What? Really? She really does need a shrink.

By the way, it was brilliant casting Adrienne Barbeau as Bea Arthur’s daughter. They have very similar eyebrows and almost as manly voices.

Cut to the psychiatrist’s office. Maude enters and finds herself with a very nervous looking lady. She feels threatened by Maude’s presence, and Maude tells her she is there to steal her appointment. Odd, and Maude is thinly veiling threats of violence in order to run her out so Maude can in fact steal her appointment.

And we have our first Jew joke. Maude tells Dr. Stern that the only thing she knows is that Carol said he wasn’t Jewish. Hi-larity.

Dr. Stern points out that Maude has a control issue when it comes to her Carol. No! And then during Maude’s defensive ranting, she says something about her own mother. And Doctor Stern has a new patient.

You wouldn’t know that Bea Arthur can carry off physical humor really well, as that you don’t see in her later years on the Golden Girls. She uses her body to great effect to strike the overly dramatic stances of an over-protective mother. At times, it’s a bit much, but come on, it’s the pilot, so we’ll have to see how Maude and Bea Arthur develop.

Maude, Norman Lear, Bea Arthur, Adrienne Barbeau, television, sitcom

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

Our last episode together taught us that freshly-divorced Ann Romano is not quite ready to date seriously enough to start having sex, and this next episode, “David Loves Ann” — only the fifth of the first season of One Day at a Time –starts off with Ann totally teasing David, the divorce lawyer that is not shy about his lecherous feelings for his client.

Ann and David are home from a “date” and they are both a little tipsy. Long story short, Ann kisses David, in a very romantic, albeit drunken way. The girls bust them on it. And then there is a lot of yelling. But the yelling has brought Ann back to reality about the David issue.

David accuses her of being hung up on her pre-cougar status. She’s 34, and he’s 26. It’s a fight, and noisy with an annoying alarm clock going off. This is just jarring, and then finally Barbara breaks it up. I heart her!

And everything is right in the world, until David decides to work his way up to popping the question to Ann in front of both Julie and Barbie. But not before Schneider comes a-knocking at the Romano-Cooper ’s door at one in the morning.

I have to say, I am not sure why Schneider is ever in a scene. I know he is usually there just to lighten the lameness that runs rampant in this show. But here it is to frustrate David’s proposal, and that leads to David blurting out his plans in a very non-romantic way.

David smokes, and it is really weird to see a character on television smoking. I mean, other than Mad Men bringing it back, the Cancer Man on the X-Files is the last guy I can think of that smoked.

David is as whiny as he is overly-aggressive. You do kind of feel sorry for him though, as Ann does clearly lead him on.

Next day, or maybe a few days later — oh, no, it’s just later in the morning and Julie finds that Ann is still up. A cup of soup, and some girl talk about what is was that Ann found attractive in Julie’s father. And how she doesn’t feel that same way about David. But then again, her love with her husband went south, so who knows what is the recipe to a good marriage.

A knock on the door, and David couldn’t sleep either. He is trying really hard to be charming, and then tries appealing to the girls to convince Ann to marry him. Julie tries to get a car out of him. Cute. And then it gets sad. Give it up, David.

He rushes into Ann’s bedroom, throwing her from the bed. The girls rush in after him, but a sound from the kitchen scares them. David, armed with a can of hairspray, finds Schneider (of course) going through the Romano-Cooper’s cupboards. He’s hungry. Yeah.

Cue the yawns. David and Ann get back to hashing all of this out, and I just want it to be over. David is too pushy, and forces her to answer. They do all of this through yawns and it’s too precious and dumb. Ann falls asleep after agreeing to “fool around.” Ah, David. Another cold shower for you.

One day at a Time, David Loves Ann, sitcom, television, Mad Men, X-Files

So let’s review. So far the ladies and lads of One Day at a Time have taken us through the pressure of a single mom having to play both mom and dad roles, sexual discrimination, and jealousy over the ex’s new model/girlfriend. What in the world could “Chicago Rendezvous” bring us in terms of a moral lesson?

Don’t be a whore, Bonnie Franklin.

Ann arrives home from as date with a tall, dark handsome stranger. And she gives it up on the first date — a kiss, that is. She met him in a Chinese restaurant while she was job hunting. She “got picked up”, as Julie so delicately points out.

Julie starts lecturing Mom about the dangers of strange men. She overacts, but the scene is still kinda cute as the girls get to call Ann out on the double standard. And then Barbara tells Mom they know all about divorcee’s being “hot to trot.” So adorable, seriously.

And then the truth comes out, and Ann actually met him a few weeks ago? And they play “who picked who up”. Cute. And a little kinky. Hot to trot, indeed.

And he’s an airline pilot. And we all know about pilots (Quagmires) or navigators (Howards). Strangely, David doesn’t care about Ann dating when Julie spills the news to him. I think he likes it. Geez, the 70’s were swingin’.

When it rains, it pours. The door rings and it’s Schneider, of course, because this guy is weirdly always hanging around the apartment of the single mo and her two teenage daughters. He has roses for Ann. But the roses are from Steve, the pilot.

He wants Ann to come fly away with him. To meet up with him in Chicago. Oooooooohhhhhhhh, 80’s style.

But is Ann ready for this?

David starts acting weird as soon as he sees he’s getting bird-dogged by a pilot. I bet that happens to lots of lawyers.

Next day, and David arrives after having been called by Ann. She needs a man, and of course, David thinks she is referring to him, but he plays dumb until Ann literally spells it out for him. He freaks out, and we get the drama part of the dram-edy of One Day at a Time.

The fight goes on for a long time, and then they start yelling at the same time until Ann calls him a creep. Luckily the girls get home and diffuses the situation.

I don’t blame David in a way, as Ann has totally been leading him on, and it is a pilot we are talking about. Pilots are like sailors, girls in every port. David thinks Ann is making a bad decision, besides the point that he is jealous.

And Ann is going to tell the girls the truth about what she is doing. She’s so liberated! Take that, Gloria Steinem!

Barbara is supportive, and Julie accuses Mom of “shacking up.” You cannot get anything past Julie, and then Julie calls Ann out for not allowing her to go camping. And then while Ann is defending her actions, she starts doubting her decision to go. She doesn’t say it, but you can see it in her face.

Ann is leaving and meets Schneider a mopping the lobby. While she waits for her taxi, Schneider gives her advice. Charming. But his brutal honesty and general sleaziness further drive home the point that Ann is not ready for this “departure” of character. She gives Schneider a tender (tease!) kiss and then returns into the building.

Moral of the story: Don’t be a whore until you are damn good and ready.

One Day at a Time, sitcom, television, Bonnie Franklin, Chicago Rendezvous

We continue going through the first season of the long-running CBS hit, One Day at a Time.

The girls arrive home and singing, marching along with a stranger who looks like a suffragette from the 20’s. Turns out it’s daddy’s new girlfriend, Candace. Both Julie and Barbara are smitten.

Ann arrives home, after cleaning all day and dressed like a slob (but she’s still adorable). Ann immediately starts her passive-aggressive guilt-trip on the girls about how she was stuck home cleaning all weekend, while they were off gallivanting around town with Pretty Younger Candy.

Barbara picks up on Mom’s “jealousy” and we have ourselves a title for the episode, “Jealousy.”

Candy is an actress/model and she sells sex, so David knows who she is. And Schneider recognizes her, too, while giving us his best impression of the sex kitten that has replaced Ann.

But Ann, you made the decision to leave…

The doorbell rings. It’s Candy. Julie forgot something in the car, and this is a great opportunity for David and Schneider to drool over Candy. And the thing that Julie forgot — makeup and false eyelashes. Candy’s tips for seducing a boy that dumped Julie last week. She’s so hip, despite her old-timey style outfit.

Of course, the news about the boy is a symbol for how Ann is out of the loop, and Ann doesn’t get it according to Julie. Julie is so lame, all the time.

Ann then tries to be a bigger person, but David doesn’t buy it. And then Ann really uncharacteristically freaks out on Julie about leaving the top off a soda bottle. Weird. Julie takes it personally, and it was Barbara’s fault anyway. Julie cannot fake cry, and the scene is just awkward.

Ann breaks down, admitting her jealousy, but it’s not about Ed moving on; no, it’s about the girls liking Candy better as Candy doesn’t have to tell them to clean their rooms and other lame stuff that Mom has to enforce. Aw, Ann is jealous that the girls will want to spend more time with Candy.

David tries pulling a lawyer-cross-examination trick to get Ann to realize that her own mother was a task-master at times, and she still loved her. Ann relaxes, and is resolved to fix things up with the kids.

Meanwhile, we cut to the girls talking in their bedroom. Oh, another set piece. Finally. Anyway, Julie is only concerned about her own feelings, while Barbara is the better person and tries to make Julie see her mom’s side of things.

Ann tries to apologize. Julie pouts. Schneider opens the door and comes in. What? Why do these people allow this creepy man into their apartment? The 70’s were an odd time.

The boy that dumped Julie is downstairs (that’s why Schneider is there). Julie starts stuffing her bra and freaking out. The audience is in stitches over this.

Ann answers the door, and this Jeff guy comes in. He’s confused as Ann doesn’t announce his arrival. But Ann is trying to buy Julie some time to pretty herself up. An and Jeff start talking, and Jeff complains about his new girlfriend that he dumped Julie for. Okay. But Julie comes into the room, out of his line of sight, just as he says his new girlfriend is too fake, with lots of makeup and strawberry lip gloss. He misses Julie, since she’s real.

Ah, Julie learns a lesson about herself. She reveals that she tried stuffing and then unstuffing her bra. Jeff finds it cute. Julie admits her mistake to Ann, and the audience claps.

There’s a final joke about the gingerale being flat, but you “could always stuff it with kleenex.”

Hilarious. My guess is we will never see Candy again…

One Day at a Time, Jealousy

Here we are, starting off a new show, with the very first episode of One Day at a Time. As the title is “Ann’s Decision“, I was worried that we’d have to sit through the whole “decision” of Ann’s to get a divorce, pack up her two daughters, and move to Indianapolis.

But no, the Romano-Coopers are settled in their apartment, and we see all that happened in that rousing opening credits sequence. But hey, who is that moving the non-nuclear-family in? Why it’s that one guy, David, played by Richard Masur, who is Ann’s boyfriend in the first season. Were they seeing each other before Ann got divorced? Oooh, scandal!

“Ann’s Decision” opens on Julie (played awkwardly by MacKenzie Phillips) talking on the phone with presumably a friend. Something about two teenage girls plotting to do something without their parent’s full knowledge of the true situation, which I’m sure we’ll find out soon. It’s one of those “I’ll tell my mom that your mom said yes.” No dads at all…

Note that Julie reassures her friend, Trudy, about the plans, describing her mom as a “liberated woman” when the issue of boys comes up.

The door opens and Mom’s home. Ann is an Avon lady? And it’s a recession. Hmm, timely.

So Julie breaks the news about Trudy’s mom saying yes, so she’ll call Trudy and tell her that her mom said yes…but Ann is not having it. She gets the truth out of Julie about the camping trip with boys, but not before Julie calls her “old”. Julie then tries to assuage Mom’s fears by explaining that the boys are seniors, so it’s ok. No deal, and Julie poutingly brings up how things were different before the divorce. I wonder how many times that little trick is going to come up.

Thank goodness that cute, fiesty Barbara (Valerie Bertinelli) runs in the room, saying “it happened!” Ann naturally starts to worry, but “it” is Barbara making the boys’ basketball team. Julie gets indignant over Barb’s attention-stealing ways and how great Barb is — maybe because she doesn’t freak out over stupid stuff, Julie.

Ann lies on the floor to stretch her back, and says a little prayer to her chick “God” about routing for the girls’ team. Meanwhile, Schneider (Pat Harrington) sneaks in — a habit that we see him practicing in the opening credits — and he starts posing in the mirror. Kind of weird, and today I’m sure this guy would not be so welcome in the apartment of a single mom and her two teenage daughters, but it was a different time, and this is Sitcomland afterall. Schneider is the sitcom staple — the looney side character that constantly hits on the main single lady.

David arrives, after Schneider leaves. Something about a quick wedding, but Ann rebuffs him. He’s only 26 and she’s 34. He’s only 26? He looks about 40. Ann cutely wonders why David wants her, and we find out he is her divorce lawyer. Ah ha.

And he is a lawyer that carries mini bottles of booze in his briefcase, in addition to collapsible cups. Nice.

Cue the girls fighting, and Julie forces her mom to make a different decision about her co-ed camping trip, or else she’s is going back to live with Daddy. Ann gets livid, and refuses to budge. Julie is so petulant, and I already don’t like her. Ann gives her bus fare to go back to her dad’s. She hesitates, and even Barb asks her to not go. But Julie is stubborn…and lame.

Now, pretty little Ann is distraught. She says something dramatic and serious about during her first 17 years, her dad made her decisions; the second 17, her husband did, and it’s her first decision and she blows it. Aww. I feel so bad for her. David tries to lighten up the situation, and gently reprimands Ann for not discussing the trip first calmly with Julie before making a decision. Ann agrees.

But Ann also has to call the ex, Ed, about the Julie situation. He starts asking her if she can handle everything, and she starts getting mad. Schneider stops by to hit on Ann (again), and it doesn’t help the conversation with Ed. David, who had popped into the bathroom to shave while Ann calls Ed, enters the room, and now there are all kinds of men in Ann’s apartment.

And back to the phone, Ann is asking Ed to meet Julie at the bus station, but then Julie walks in. She’s such an attention whore.

Ann is tearful, and Julie sees the pain she has caused her mom and even Barbara. Time for a sit-down. Bonnie Franklin gets the opportunity to show off her acting chops with a heart-felt speech to the girls about not being perfect, but she is trying.

I think they are going to make it after all…

And Julie gets to go camping, because…Ann is “not sure”. What? Julie goes to her room to call Trudy, and she says that she cannot go camping. Wow, she made a good decision on her own. Maybe there is hope for her yet — or not.

One Day at a Time, sitcom, television, show, TV, Bonnie Franklin, Valerie Bertinelli, MacKenzie Phillips, Richard Masur, Pat Harrington

If you have no memory of why Valerie Bertinelli is a celebrity other than as someone that hawks diet food, then let’s take a trip back in time (because after all that what Retro TV is all about) to visit a sitcom that featured a lead female character that was…gasp…divorced.

Did you know that when the Mary Tyler Moore Show was being developed the idea of making Mary divorced was batted around before deciding that due to Moore’s previous job as Laura Petrie on the Dick Van Dyke Show it may cause confusion that Laura divorced Dick? So instead, Mary was the victim of a man who wouldn’t marry her, which lead to her feminine independence.

That was 1970. Divorce was not quite so commonplace as it is today. So, I’m sure that having America’s sweetheart, Mary Tyler Moore, be a divorced woman on television would have proven quite the scandal. But five years later, and make it Bonnie Franklin, and you got yourself a hit on your hands.

In 1975, CBS debuted One Day at a Time.

Though the first female divorcee on television was Diana Rigg (a goddess in my eyes) in Diana about two years before ODAAT, Bonnie Franklin’s Ann Romano was more realistic as a working class mom in Indiana with two teenage daughters to raise by herself. Also, One Day at a Time’s heroine was lashing out at her not knowing herself, getting married too young and becoming a stay-at-home mom.

It definitely has a feminist side, and you can thank Norman Lear for that politicizing. Lear, the man behind All in the Family and Good Times, was an envelope-pusher (too say the least) in the changing political and cultural landscape of the 1970’s. His real outlet for feminism was of course, Maude, with One Day at a Time filling the “feminism-light” category, but it could be because of the less-controversial nature of ODAAT that led to its longevity. One day at a Time lasted through nine seasons, although the last few were iffy.

Let the synopses begin…

One Day at a Time, Valerie Bertinelli, Bonnie Franklin, Norman Lear, All in the Family, Diana Rigg, divorce, television, Maude, Good Times, feminism, politics on television

First, I love the title of the episode, “Bess You is My Daughter Now.” In so far as we are now here on the third episode of the first season of the Mary Tyler Moore Show, two of the three episode titles are clever, and if there is one thing I like, it’s clever.

Also, I am hoping that this episode has something more than just Mary’s love life as a subject. Not that her lovelife isn’t funny, but it’s time to expand.

We open in the news room, Murray and Mary are watching the moronic Ted Baxter refer to a veterinarian as a vegetarian. Rhoda phones, Mary’s late, and is going to meet her at her place before heading out to a movie.

Rhoda is waiting at Mary’s place, because you know with the whole issue of Rhoda wanting Mary’s apartment in the pilot, as the main character’s best friend, she’ll be in that apartment all the times anyway, so she might as well just have a key. Anyway, Phyllis needs Mary to watch Bess, as Lars (the never-seen husband) has come done with the chicken pox, which for for some reason, Rhoda finds hilarious because it’s a kids disease. But I’m pretty sure that the older you get, the more dangerous chicken pox can be, so way to go, Rhoda, he could die and you’re laughing at him. I guess they didn’t know that about chicken pox back in 1970.

Bess enters in full drag — Phyllis’ wig and makeup. By the way, Bess calls Phyllis Phyllis, because Phyllis reads child psychology books and she’s modern, which means that Bess is very angsty for a ten-year-old. I like her.

Phyllis gives Mary a beer stein, as that is what Bess likes to drink milk from. Now, I love her.

Mary takes Bess shopping the next day, because all little girls need to grow up to be consumers. It’s a pretty lame montage, but it does establish that Bess is growing fond of Mary - and the attention. She starts acting like a little girl again, instead of a morose little adult. Mary’s girlish enthusiasm for life wins the day.

Back at the apartment, Rhoda comes over and notices what a nice little short person Bess is. And then of course, Mary congratulations herself on her potential to be a great mom. Always with the traditional woman’s role in society, isn’t it, Mary?

Phyllis arrives to announce that Lars only had poison oak. Bess doesn’t want to come home, and Phyllis’ modern mothering supports her decision in a reverse-psychology sort-of way — because that always works.

Mary thinks she is to blame for this new independence of Bess. Phyllis knows it’s a phase, but doesn’t let the opportunity to be passive-aggressive go to waste.

Back to Ted Baxter and his pronunciation coach, Murray, practicing the upcoming newscast. This is going to be an on-going joke, methinks.

Bess shows up at the WJM office. We get a nice dose of Ted and Mr. Grant, with a side of Murray offering Bess the anchor job after she correctly says Richard Milhouse Nixon rather than Ted’s Richard Mil-horse Nixon.

Back at “home” with Bess, and I just noticed that Mary has a Joan Miro print on her wall. She’s so hip. Bess goes out for TV dinners, and Phyllis brings over some cabbage soup. Typical kid. They don’t want Mom’s cabbage soup, and tricks the other adult into junk food.

Mary has to come out finally and tell Phyllis that she doesn’t agree with Phyllis’ parenting skills, and Mary thinks that if Phyllis shows Bess how she really feels, instead of being so “strong”, Bess will want to come home. Phyllis’ insecurity over being a mom had lead her down a draconian of the Ayn Rand school of parenting. When instead if she showed her emotional side and her love for her daughter, she would have a better relationship with her.

Ah, Mary…she can fix anything. She might just make it after all.

And there is an odd little coda at the end of “Bess, You is My Daughter Now” — Mary and Rhoda talk over some credits. Have they done that before?

Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mary Tyler Moore, Mary Richards, WJM News, Phyllis, Rhoda, Bess You is My daughter now, season one, Lou Grant

This is the second episode of the first season of the seminal Mary Tyler Moore Show (originally aired on September 26, 1970), and we finally get to see Mary doing a real job at her new news job. She gets to read off the ratings for Mr. Grant during an odd all-standing meeting. She defends the ratings for the show among young people as she watched it even before she got the job.

Mr. Grant informs Mary that she isn’t young. Oh, no he didn’t! And then the mail boy calls her “ma’am” when he needs her to move.

Cut to a bitch session with Rhoda. Mary doesn’t want to complain about being single, but she is, so there it is. It’s awesome how quickly her and Rhoda became fast friends. I guess being lonely in a new city brings the gals together.

Enter Phyllis. Cloris Leachman really is a goddess. She plays Phyllis as such a great contrast to the single girls, as someone who fell for the advertising of marriage, but wishes she could take it back for a refund.

The ladies are pondering which available men they knew that they wouldn’t mind getting to know better, and I think I smell an awkward double-date coming up.

Mary phones up Howard, a guy she dated once four years ago, and the dude is total stalker material, but Mary doesn’t remember this until it is too late. And then Rhoda calls up her potential beau, a guy she hit with her car a few months ago. He accepts the invite to Mary’s for drinks, but…he’s bringing his wife. Sweet. This should go swimmingly.

Next night and the girls are all gussied up…for an overly enthusiastic guy and a married guy. Don’t get that one. But Rhoda seems to think that Armand Linton will be divorced soon…until the cute little blond Mrs. Linton walks in. Mrs. Linton is a dead-ringer for Angela from The Office, except too tan.

Howard arrives and he is all hugs and photographs. Why, Mary, why? He is living in a freaky fantasy world in which Mary remembers his favorite drink. This guy is super awesome, but Rhoda steals the scene as the fifth wheel in the room.

Somehow things get confused and the guests think they are there for dinner rather than just drinks. She thought 8:30 was obviously after dinner, and I thought it was going to be a funny moment in the kitchen with Mary and Rhoda covered with flour and sauces, but no, Mary just explains the no-dinner situation, and we move on.

The happy couple take off with some creative excuses. Howard takes the alone time to make a move on Mary, and he is crazy forward proposing marriage. But then he backpedals and says she’s too good to marry and he needs his freedom to jet off to St. Paul at a moment’s notice. Priceless.

Mary agrees quickly, realizing she has an out.

The constantly-eating Rhoda returns and swears off anyone but “a couple she really likes.” Love her.

Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mary Tyler Moore, Mary Richards, Rhoda, Phyllis, dating, single woman

The Mary Tyler Moore Show began it’s seven season run with “All is All Around.” It all began on a Saturday night at 9:30 way back in September 1970…

Funny how Saturday night is now one of the worst nights in TV programming. In the 1970’s, it was the night to watch network television. CBS Saturdays nights during the decade included All in the Family, M*A*S*H, and The Bob Newhart Show. I couldn’t even name one show that airs currently on a Saturday. What caused that change, I wonder? Did restaurants and bars ask the networks to stop showing their better shows on Saturday, so more people would go out and spend money instead of staying in? Hmm, another topic, another day.

“Love is All Around”

I am not entirely sure whether or not the premiere episode of the Mary Tyler Moore Show can be considered a pilot. Pilots are usually rougher than this, more awkward and unsure of themselves. Not only that, but pilots are usually a sort-of audition for a television series. I am thinking that The Mary Tyler Moore Show was guaranteed a spot in the CBS lineup, and maybe it is because of that confidence that “Love is All Around” may just be one of the best pilots ever produced for American television.

Ok, so Mary Tyler Moore is Mary Richards. She has just moved to Minneapolis. She has just left a long-term relationship with a man that she supported through medical school, but who doesn’t want to get married. Mary is living above her long-time friend, Phyllis, who owns a large Victorian house, and her new apartment is coveted by the aggressive and gruff Rhoda. You learn all of this in about four minutes. That is what I call efficient writing. And the writers you ask… James L. Brooks and Allan Burns.

Cloris Leachman is Phyllis and Valerie Harper is Rhoda. Both of these characters will go onto their own spinoffs.

In addition to the exposition in the first part of the episode, we also get insight into Mary’s less-than-assertive nature. However, I have a feeling that is all going to change. Of course, one of the foundations of storytelling is a little something called the character arc, and despite most shows best intentions, I find that few American sitcoms have much in the way of a character arc for it’s main characters. They may change a little, but can you name how Dr. Cosby grew as a character over the many years of the Cosby Show? I didn’t think so.

What makes the Mary Tyler Moore Show so good in terms of story and character is not only the absolutely stellar casting of the wacky band of newsmen that Mary is surrounded by as well as the strong personalities of Phyllis and Rhoda, but also that so many of those characters get character arcs. And when they get to really show development in an episode, it usually resulted in an Emmy.

But let’s get back to our episode, “Love is All Around.” The title itself is coming from MTMS’s theme song. it comes after the opening lines, including “How will you make it on your own?” This all goes back to the theme that Mary is unmarried, but rather than feel sorry for herself like so many of the women of the earlier decades did (but hardly on TV), she is a liberated woman. She was going to make it on her own. Dammit.

So after Mary sees her new home and meets the ascerbic Rhoda, she goes in for an interview at WJM news. She is going for a secretary position, but it has been filled. However, even though Mr. Grant (the brilliant Ed Asner) is “thinking of hiring a man” for the job, he’s willing to give Mary a shot at it, after she shows she’s got “spunk.” Grant: “I hate spunk.”

We also meet for the first time Ted Baxter, played by the delightfully obtuse Ted Knight (Caddyshack); as well as the chronically-put-upon newswriter Murray Slaughter (Gavin MacLeod before the awful Love Boat). These co-workers will become Mary’s family, in a twist from the traditional family-based sitcom. Instead of Mary as a wife or mother, she becomes just that to a hard-drinking father-type Grant, the boobish childish Baxter, and the angst-y Murray.

To finish the episode, Mary’s as-of-a-month-ago ex-boyfriend is coming for a visit. Rhoda hopes he’s coming to beg for Mary back with a marriage proposal, so she can finally get the apartment. Phyllis hopes Mary does get married so she too can understand how “suffocating” it is. The ladies leave, and the doorbell rings.

It’s a very drunken Mr. Grant. And why is he there, Mary asks. Grant slurringly tells Mary she’s got a great caboose, and Mary suddenly realizes why she got the job at WJM. Grant says his wife has a better caboose. And then he starts rambling on about missing her, before he resolves to type her a letter on Mary’s portable. The bell rings again and Bill has arrived. As Bill and Mary express their feelings to one another, Grant’s soused brain thinks it’s his own thoughts and the words go into the letter. Until Mary adds, “All my love, Lou.” And the letter is finished. Brilliant. Grant leaves to send the letter.

Bill is a dumbass, showing up with flowers from a patient in the hospital. He cannot say the words I love you without stumbling, and he pleads with Mary to say something, as she always has a way of saying things just right. But Mary says she is horrible at saying goodbye. Bill gets it, and takes off with a “take care of yourself.” Mary’s response: “I think I just did.”

You go, girl! She’s might just make it after all.

Mary Tyler Moore, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, CBS, All in the Family, Bob Newhart Show, M*A*S*H, Cloris Leachman, Valerie Harper, Ed Asner, Ted Knight, Gavin MacLeod, Caddyshack, The Love Boat,

Ooh. We get a teaser in this episode, the 19th of the first season of the Bob Newhart Show. Bob Newhart is known in comedy history as the king of the one-sided phone conversations, and we get a taste of it before the credits roll.

Ew...

Howard’s baby sister is coming for a visit. He wants to stash some stuff at the Hartley’s. You know, women’s clothes, a hair dryer, some unmentionables…He doesn’t want his little sis getting the wrong idea about his swingin’ 70’s divorcee lifestyle.

Finally, we get to see Howard’s apartment. He is having Bob and Emily over for dinner to introduce them to his lovely sister, Debbie. Howard is convinced his sister is a sweet, innocent, impressionable kid and he is trying his hardest to make it seem that he has no life whatsoever in terms of women and sex. It’s refreshing to see a classic TV show so frank about the life of a single man. I have to wonder how old Howard is supposed to be? Or how old his parent’s are, since Debbie is 22.

Brilliant moment alert! When the Hartley’s arrive, Howard offers them a drink, and he wheels out a beverage cart stocked with those little airplane-sized bottles of booze. Howard checks on dinner and Debbie asks Bob about his being a “shrink.” We all know that Bob hates that word, but he humors her. She mentions that she did a new age-y sensory awareness weekend the previous summer and she got to run naked through the woods. Um, I don’t think that Debbie is quite as innocent that Howard thinks she is.

More brilliance at dinner. Howard is serving…airplane food. For anyone who hasn’t flown before oh, say, 1995, when you flew, you got meal service. Actual no fooling food. Hot food, that came on little trays, and though they weren’t very good, at least the airlines were trying. Now, you can buy those stupid snack boxes full of salty treats. Super. I always take my own food on planes. I mean, come on, you can buy fast food at airports or salty snacks on the plane. No wonder Americans are so fat.

But I digress…There is a wine service gag that is priceless! Bob Newhart is so deadpan, and it is such a delight in this world of sitcom dopes and broad physical humor. Too bad this show is more than 35 years old.

A few days later at the office…

Emily sneaks a quick conversation with Jerry, asking him to take out Debbie, to give her a little relief from Howard’s big-brotherness. Jerry agrees, once Emily says Debbie is hot. He’s soooo shallow. That is one of the great things about the Bob Newhart Show. It’s a rather modern depiction of the single man, as seen in both Howard and Jerry. Howard is divorced and thus scared of commitment, lest it goes south, and Jerry is a unrepentant bachelor and afraid of commitment, lest he gets bored with one woman.

Jerry comes to the Hartley’s to pick Debbie up for the date. Howard acts like a dad watching his daughter go out to prom. For a blind date, there are immediate sparks between Jerry and Debbie.

I think you can guess where this is going…

The Hartley’s apartment is dark. Someone starts banging on the door. I bet that’s Howard. Bingo. He walks in with his red phone, which makes me laugh. Who has a red phone? The “kids” get home late. Howard tries to act like he wasn’t freaking out, which he was.

Next day, and Howard pops by Bob’s office. He needs to talk. No! (shocked disbelief) Howard breaks down, asking Bob why he treats his sister like a little girl. Bob explains it may take a while to figure that out, and Howard starts on a slobbery analysis of his own. And Bob sees that some cures are instant. A funny moment, that is cut short by the next appointment. How is this guy in charge of navigating an airplane?

Debbie leaves, and Howard comes over to thank Bob and Emily for dealing with him during this trying time. Bob had just been expressing how miraculous Howard’s analysis was and how it’s the quickest cure he’s ever seen. Howard agrees, and Emily says how nice it must be to be honest with Debbie about hairdryers, and she then says that Howard must know about Frank. Oops. Emily, Emily, Emily…

This is a good episode to watch, if you want to see an example of why the Bob Newhart Show was such a hit and why it continues to have the legacy it does. Bob Newhart does best when surrounded by crazy people, and between Howard and the patient he deals with in the middle of the episode, he is knee-deep in neuroses.

Trivia: Heather Menzies, who plays Debbie, was married to the late Robert Urich. She is a cancer survivor and works at the Urich Fund for Sarcoma Research at the University of Michigan (my alma matter) Comprehensive Cancer Center. She also played Louisa Von Trapp in The Sound of Music.

Bob Newhart, comedy history, comedian, one-sided phone conversation, 70’s, television show, classic TV, sitcom, Bob Newhart Show, Heather Menzies, Robert Urich, University of Michigan, cancer, survivor, The Sound of Music

We are working our way through the first season of the iconic The Bob Newhart Show…Specifically, the 18th episode.

In “The Two Loves of Dr. Hartley“, Bob is faced with a patient that confuses her gratitude for Bob’s services as a psychologist for love. Seems Mrs. Walker lost a lot of weight, thanks to Dr. Hartley, and she is sure she is in love with Bob — Trust her, she’s been married for 12 years and “this is different.”

Oops, end of the session, and she needs to go. But she is in a fragile state, now that Bob is not reacting the way she had hoped. Bob pawns her off on Jerry (the Dentist), to keep her mouth busy, as Mrs. Walker eats when she is upset. Problem not solved, but deferred. For comedy, I’m sure.

Bob arrives home to a headless Emily, who has a zipper stuck in a full-length black turtleneck dress. She is so chic, seriously. Cue phone ringing. Guess who…it’s Mrs. Walker. She threatening to eat a twinkie! Bob talks her down, but he now has Emily’s insecurity to deal with. Bob has to explain to think of her like a “rock star with fans.” She’s sorry for having a twinge of jealousy, but she has another one before they can leave for a lovely dinner for two. She needs reassurance. Geez, even Suzanne Pleshette needs to be told how pretty she is sometimes…

Next day, and Jerry is trying to explain how Vegas works to Bob in terms of gambling, but Bob will only bet a quarter. He’s so cheap. Bob and Jerry were just on their way out for the night, off to watch the game at Bob’s. Oh, no, Mrs. Walker meets them at the elevator. She has to talk to him. Mrs. Walker might not be Mrs. Walker anymore. She told Mr. Walker all About Bob. Oh, snap.

On the homefront, Emily is setting up snacks for Bob and Jerry and Howard for the big game. Ten minutes to game time, and Bob is still at the office. Mrs. Walker is crying, and Bob lets Em know that he’ll be later than expected. Emily is having a hard time, and needs to talk, and whining to Howard is the best she’s got. Does she have any friends?

Howard bumbles his way through Emily’s crisis. There are these two huge mugs of beer on the table getting warm. You know, those beer mugs that you see in German beer halls. Hmm, beer. Oh, where was I? Oh, yeah, Emily is stupidly talking to Howard, and Howard is bungling everything up. Jerry arrives. He tries to cover for Bob. Oh, this is going to be funny. Howard and Jerry are the two worst people to have around when you are upset.

The guys are watching a great Bears game. Bob finally gets home, and as soon as he has shut the door, Howard and Jerry are up and leaving. Bob is trying to play off the situation as nothing big, but Emily is upset and you know what is going to happen. Bob and Emily need to talk. Emily needs Bob to dump Mrs. Walker.

Bob insists this is Emily’s problem. Bob asks if this is all because Emily’s sister got a training bra first. Bob then tries to give Emily examples, but they all turn into doctors that marry patients. Oopsy. Bob tries again, but is distracted by the game on the television. Strangely, this does not upset Emily — instead she tells him she loves him. Huh?

A few days go by, Emily pops by the office. And Mrs. Walker is just leaving Bob’s office. How convenient! Oh, but wait, Mrs. Walker is back together — happily — with Mr. Walker. Emily mutters how happy she is to hear that. And the end.

Yeah, where did that ending come from? A little abrupt for the Bob Newhart Show. Another fairly forgettable episode, but one that shows us that one of the perils of psychology is that your patients may fall in love with you. Yes, even if you look like Bob Newhart.

Trivia: The actress who plays Mrs. Walker, Emmaline Henry, usually played wife characters, but in real life, she never married.

Bob Newhart Show, Bob Newhart, Suzanne Pleshette, Bears, Emmaline Henry, psychologist, psychology, The Two Loves of Dr Hartley

Continuing on with the first season of the Bob Newhart Show…

It’s Bob’s birthday. Emily awakens him in order to give him his gift. A wrist watch. Aw. She even got it engraved. However, Emily let Bob sleep in because it’s his birthday after all, but he’s late for work.

Carol greets him, she unaware that it is Bob’s birthday. Bob is trying not to make a big deal about his birthday, and of course, he tells everyone to not make a big deal about it, and of course, nobody knows it’s his birthday. Ha, classic.

Jerry notices the fancy new watch, and tells Bob just how expensive it is. Bob plays it off that it’s a gift, and he shouldn’t care how much it costs. Bob really is trying to take the high road here, people, but Jerry forces the issue like he always does. Bob is a passive agent in this scenario, like most scenarios in which Bob finds himself.

Looking at the watch, as a viewer, it is fugly. A shiny, inch and a half wide band, and very garish. And it’s worth $1250…Bob now wonders why Emily would spend so much on a watch. For him.

Bob is too self-conscious to wear his watch. He hides it from his patient, and then takes it off on the El. Emily explains that she just wanted to give him a really nice watch, and she does make her own money teaching (she subs and only makes a few thou a year). Bob ruins an awesome birthday present by making a big deal about Emily spending the cash. Oh, Bob…he just cannot appreciate the sentiment or nice things. Emily points out that the problem is that he is cheap. And yes, she is offended. Bob wants to take off for a walk, but Emily insists she is coming along as she wants to go out to a restaurant — a trap. And Bob should wear the watch to dinner, as everyone will want to see it.

Oops, wrong cast.

Surprise!! Cue all cast members. Carol was only acting that she didn’t know it was Bob’s birthday. She helped Emily plan the party. A sit-down dinner for 12. How fun. Too bad, Bob can’t have fun. Gifts are given. Bob is uncomfortable, and doesn’t want to bore everyone by opening them in front of everyone, thinking he’ll “open them later at home.” No deal, Bob. All gag gifts, too.

A brilliant moment occurs when Carol asks Emily why Bob is so unhappy. Sitting next to Carol is Jerry, who asks the same question. The guy next to Jerry then asks the same question, and you see where this is going. It’s a telephone game around the table at that point, and turns into Bob and Emily are getting a divorce because she spent a hundred thou on that damn watch.

Bob and Emily return home, not speaking, but Bob forces the issue. And he tries to explain his cheapness. She offers to take him to the jewelry store to exchange it for a watch he does want. Ah, she’s the best, and she loves him. Sweet. What a sweet ending.

All in all, a fairly forgettable episode. Bob is cheap, and doesn’t like being the center of attention. I am pretty sure the episode’s name is a take on the Frank Sinatra heroin-addict movie, The Man with a Golden Arm.

And how about this…Hulu has this episode. Enjoy…well, kind of, I mean, yeah, enjoy. It still beats most of what’s on TV…

Bob Newhart, Bob Newhart Show, Man with the Golden Wrist, Man with the Golden Arm, Frank Sinatra, Hulu