Picture it: Sicily 1932.
Estelle Getty died, earlier this week. Which is pretty amazing since she's been 92 years old since 1989.
Sophia, I would like to speak directly to you, now. You are free. No longer will you need to fear being sent to Shady Pines Retirement Center by your 6'5'' daughter. And that Alzheimer's you got in that one episode will no longer afflict you (although it stopped afflicting you the next week). You are free to carry the biggest, most jewel encrusted purse with you to heaven, eat all the cheesecake you want and you will be reunited with your husband whose name I can't remember but Dorothy always called him 'Pop'. In short; If you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew. You would see the biggest gift would be from me and the card attached would say, 'thank you for being a friend.'
So I love the Golden Girls. Growing up my mom would always watch it on Saturday nights while she vacuumed and did laundry. For being a show about a bunch of old ladies, it was pretty dirty, especially to my 10 year old ears. My mom would laugh her butt off, then realize the impressionable minds of her children were present and say 'that's just filthy.' But she never seemed to change the channel. Sorry to rat you out Mom.
To this day, if I happen to catch a rerun on Lifetime, I will sit and watch the whole episode. For the record, Mitch Hurwitz, creator of Arrested Development (greatest TV show of all time) was a writer for the G squared (that's what the cool kids called it). That's all the credibility it needs, right there.
- Note: I just read the article I linked earlier. Apparently she really did suffer from dementia, which makes my Alzheimer's reference seem a bit crass. And yet, I leave it in.