A Golden Example

Late last night, while watching television from bed, I realized that I can recognize episodes of "The Golden Girls" in a few seconds flat, without benefit of dialogue. This does not make me a specialized savant. It means, simply, that I have seen every episode of the 1980's classic too many times to count, or even estimate. I have been trying, half-heartedly, to write about this show for a few years. That's right, years. What I came up with never seemed quite right. I found no satisfaction in even the opening lines that I composed again and again. The timing was obviously not correct, was premature: the enjoyment and hope that the sitcom has given me over the years would not translate to the page. So, I did what writers do when a piece does not properly synchronize with our intentions. I set it aside, put it away, relegated it to the "maybe I will try again in a few months" corner of my brain.
I dusted the idea off a few months ago when, on my Mother's birthday, Bea Arthur died. I decided not to rush the process but, rather, let it ferment in my creative place; knowing that, this time, it would form itself into what it is meant to be, ripening when it is ready.
"The Golden Girls", which aired from 1985-1992, might seem, on the surface, a strange show to have such a strong cult following, especially among younger women. Yet obsessed we are. I was in Middle School when the show debuted. 24 years later, my mother is still younger than the characters and the actresses who played them. Indeed, my Grandmother was born after all but Rue McLanahan. So, why the fascination?
The generation that The Golden Girls represented was the first to stay young past the age of fifty. They did not have one leg in the grave just because their children were grown and their hair was grey. This is something that we are used to and comfortable with in the 21st-Century, but 25 years ago it was a revelation and wake up call to realize that sex appeal and physical desire do not have to wither. Today's magazines are full of young-looking-and-acting 60-year-olds. There are simply too many to name in this space: it is no longer singular.
"The Golden Girls", then, helped lead this particular revolution, which has been to every woman's advantage, even those of us who have since come of age. It is no secret that the 4 women of "Sex and the City", when put together, represent the varied and complex feminine nature. TGG thought of this angle 2 decades earlier: it is for this reason that the shows have often been compared, with either one or the other found wanting, depending on your viewpoint.
I am exactly who SATC caters to, exactly who they try so hard to draw in. Unfortunately, I see so little of myself in any of the characters that it ultimately fails. True, I am a writer. I love shoes, sex, and booze. Yet, the female bonding strikes me as cold, artificial, and not particularly funny. Not so with those wise-cracking ladies from Miami.
It took the girls a few episodes to find their niche. A cracking-wise gay pool-boy/housecleaner/cook wasn't necessary. Soon, he and the pool were gone, making it possible for the quartet of women to be more relatable, middle-class. They had issues galore, straight out of real-life: there was money trouble, job trouble, family trouble and, oh yes, mighty-mighty man trouble. During those famous late-night talks over cheesecake, they formed a bond tight as any flesh-and-blood family unit.
They put up with a lot but always pulled through, with their friendship and humour intact. Amorous relationships and sex remained highly important in their lives. They waded through much of the same romantic crap as younger women, yet they also had to put up with new sets of challenges. There is an odd comfort in knowing that screwed-up relationships with the opposite sex know no age boundary, that it is not just an affliction of the young. Age may bring wisdom but clear-paths of communication and enlightenment are not guaranteed. Even Sophia, the 80-plus widowed matriarch, was not above getting dolled up for a man; nor did her age offer shelter for a broken heart.
The 4 golden oldies are better, truer representations of the multi-faceted female psyche. Dorothy, Blanche, Rose and Sophia cover the bases of what it mean to be a woman.
Dorothy Petrillo Zbornak, played by Bea Arthur, is intelligent, logical, and strong. She is a smart woman who refuses to dumb herself down for a man, knowing that what she has to offer is plentiful and rich. Jokes about her inability, as a bookworm, to get a date for a Saturday night abound; however, she manages to attract her fair share of men. Indeed, she is the only one of the women (besides, briefly, Sophia) to remarry. She dealt with teen pregnancy (her own) and infidelity (her ex-husband's).
Blanche Devereaux, played by Rue McLanahan, is the voracious, not-so-superficial sex-Goddess. The southern belle spends most of her time wooing and winning men into her bed. She is the most obvious proof that sex-appeal can keep on ticking well past your forties; that a vibrant, fun life can be found at any age. While men are always at the forefront of her mind and actions, she ultimately puts friendship first. She is a widow who struggles to maintain the always- fragile relationships with her children and siblings. Her biggest struggle is that of self-image due, to aging and the lasting effects of a woman who always valued her looks above her not inconsiderable abilities.
Rose Nylund, played by Betty White, is the innocent, naive and good-hearted roommate. Known for extolling the virtues of her hometown life (the real St. Olaf, Minnesota)through painfully long-winded and fairy-tale-esque stories, Rose is always hopeful and considerate. This makes her the obvious butt of her friends' jokes. She enjoyed a long and ideal marriage with her late husband. She slowly learns to become a woman-of-the world, as she deals with dating and sex-outside-of-marriage for the first time. Rose suffered a health scare, when it was believed that she could be HIV-positive, and a goofy yet tumultuous relationship with long-time love Miles.
Sophia Petrillo, played by Estelle Getty, is Dorothy's Sicilian-immigrant mother. She is wily, cantankerous, blunt yet nurturing. She joins the household after leaving the nursing home that her daughter put her in after she suffered a stroke. She is the deepest source of wisdom and experience, often treating her roommates like naive children. Although in her eighties, she, too, enjoys a (more sporadic) dating and sex-life, even sharing a beau with Blanche at one point. She proves that the key to staying healthy and vital is curiosity and a strong-engagement with life.
TGG is an entertaining blend of the slapstick and the witty, the absurd and the topical. It covered all of the important issues of the day, without resorting to preachiness or sappiness. Tolerance and understanding exist at the very heart of the show's message. It is a wonderful, enduring example to all women that friendship is as important as family; that aging can be sexy and fun as well as graceful; and that, if you play it right, life can begin instead of end with menopause.
The Chef does not understand my obsession with these fictional women and their escapades. All that I can say in answer to his perplexity is that I see more of myself and my ways--my curiosity, adventurousness, intelligence, and love-of-life--in those 4 not-so-old ladies than I do in their cardboard-SATC counterparts who are suppose to be my avatars and role-models. Watching 60-somethings demand and take so much enjoyment from life, sans whining entitlement, is the best reminder that we get exactly one whirl-around on this planet: we had best do what we can with it.I think, occasionally, that they may have fuller lives than me, more impressive dance cards, a better-class of adventure. That is all I need to sit up and take action, to demand a little of that life-force for myself. Thanks, ladies, for being the best role-models a girl could have.