I recently rewatched Sofia Coppola’s The Bling Ring. Days later, I’m still thinking about it. So obviously I had to rush right over to the episode of The Golden Girls where the girls arrive home late after a Madonna concert and find that their house has been robbed.
It’s very interesting to see how differently each of the girls respond to the break-in. Dorothy responds by mis-quoting Dirty Harry in a loud voice (to threaten any lingering robbers). Sophia is utterly unafraid because she is old and “bathtubs are dangerous.” Blanche frantically searches the house for any missing expensive item. And Rose freaks the f**k out.
I’m reading a book called Chatter by Ethan Kross and I would definitely say Rose has been overtaken by chatter in this episode. She purchases a guard dog (even though she is afraid of big dogs). She purchases mace (which Blanche borrows when she mistakes it for hairspray…that doesn’t end well.)
When Rose comes home one day with a gun, Dorothy urges her to see a therapist. The girls decide to go as a group and they all feel better except for Rose. Things get so bad that Rose sleeps during the day and stays up all night.
One night as Rose lies awake in the darkness, she hears a disturbance at the front door. With their new alarm system wailing, Rose takes a shot. And thank God she’s a horrible shot because she almost killed Blanche’s date but luckily killed her vase instead. (Interestingly enough there is a big continuity error with the vase because it reappears fully intact in subsequent episodes.)
Things continue to escalate when Rose is in a parking deck and knees a parking attendant who chased her down to return her keys. To be fair, this guy should have yelled out something more informative than “hey lady” while in hot pursuit of an old woman, so I can’t really blame Rose for going for the “safe deposit box,” as she calls it. Anyway, this all somehow makes Rose feel better and in control of her life again.
Very Special Lesson: Losing your sense of reality and kneeing an innocent person in the family jewels will somehow help you regain your sense of power in the world –wait what? No, no, no. That’s not right. Buying a gun and shooting a vase will…no, sorry that’s not it either…um…when something traumatic happens and you find yourself stuck in a constant thought spiral, get a good therapist who helps you work through difficult emotions with strategic interventions that support healthy cognitive functioning. Yes, that’s the one. Third time’s the charm.
Want to spend a little more time with this episode? Check out the “Fudge, Yarn, & Gun” episode from Enough Wicker.
I’ve had grifters on my mind lately. Yesterday, I started the new Operation Varsity Blues documentary on Netflix. Earlier this week, I finished The Glass Hotel and then decided to round that out with the four-part Bernie Madoff podcast series from American Scandal. THEN, just for good measure, I listened to an episode of CNBC’s American Greed about Anna Delvey. Now if you’re like, “wow that all sounds like a bummer and I don’t know if I want to continue reading,” hold on just a second because one time Cory and Shawn ran a grift on Boy Meets World and it was mostly good fun.
This episode is from Season 4, which I consider to be the golden-era of Boy Meets World. Season 4 contains my legit favorite very special episode “Chick Like Me,” the classic “Cult Fiction,” and a really sweet Eric-centered episode called “Uncle Daddy” — which sounds weird but actually isn’t. In fact, I think I love season 4 so much because it feels like Eric is really coming into his own and the character hasn’t become totally flandarized yet.
In “B&B’s B ‘n B,” Eric and Mr. Feeny are both going out of town (separately). Cory and Eric’s mother is supposed to take care of Mr. Feeny’s plants while he is away, a job she quickly pawns off to Cory and Shawn. Remembering that Mr. Feeny mentioned he would be staying at a bed in breakfast, Shawn is quick to hatch a plan in support of his economics project.
Meanwhile in Boston, Eric pretends to be a CEO but the bartender quickly makes him for a recent high school grad who works for his father and is attending his very first out-of-town conference. He settles for drinking a root beer and bumps into Mr. Feeny who is having a drink at the bar before he meets his dinner date. Feeny confesses that he has been in a long-distance with another school teacher for years, but they’re both too career-oriented to leave their current jobs and move cities.
That night, Cory returns to Feeny’s house to water the plants and discovers Shawn there along with some bed and breakfast guests. Shawn has bribed airport cab drivers to tell travelers that every hotel in the city is booked and redirect them to this suburban Philadelphia home instead. I give you the first Airbnb!
In Boston the bartender offers to buy Eric dinner, which is pretty strange since she just called him a baby when they met two seconds ago. Was that flirting? Idk I’ve decided she’s an old-looking 21 and he’s 19 and it’s been fixed in my mind. In the end, she gives him a kiss on the cheek and he goes to sit with Mr. Feeny who is very sad.
Feeny confesses that he has realized that there is a limit to his love for his long-distance girlfriend (and vice versa). He worries that he’s too old to take a true risk and therefore too old for true love. After years of taking advice from Feeny, Eric is finally in a position to be the advice-giver. He tells Mr. Feeny that he believes love can come at any age and then offers to be Mr. Feeny’s wingman while their in Boston.
“Cruise for chicks?” Feeny says. “And their mothers,” Eric replies.
Back in Pennsylvania, Cory, Shawn, and Topanga (who has compromised her ethics for the good cash tips), serenaded the guests on Feeny’s piano. Cory agonizes about getting caught because he believes the universe will not allow them to get away with wrongdoing. “Without punishment my world loses both form and meaning,” he says and I hope discusses with a good therapist at a later date.
Feeny arrives home, just after all the guests have left, to a freshly cleaned house. Just when they think they’ve gotten away with it, Feeny asks how much money they made from the bed and breakfast. (Turns out the cab driver was still selling the place.) Shawn hands over the cash and expects a much harsher sentence than his usual detention. But Feeny goes easy on him because he’s proud of Shawn for taking a risk. Oh YIKES no I don’t think that was the thing you were supposed to learn from your failed relationship Mr. Feeny!!! Or at the very least, you shouldn’t be projecting it onto teenage grifters!
Feeny promises to keep the cash for Shawn and return it to him when he is in college because he’s shown a keen eye for business strategy. Huh. Well, I forgot that it ended this way. But I guess I don’t hate the college fund aspect of this. Let’s just hope Shawn doesn’t become the next Jordan Belfort or whoever.
This post is brought to you as part of the 7th Annual Favourite TV Show Episode Blogathon. Check out the other posts here.
Hello, I have just learned of the existence of Squishmallows. These plushes are squishy not beanie and Gen Z seems to love them. One Gen Zer featured in The New York Times has three hundred twenty-five!
Having lived through the Beanie Baby collectible craze of the 90’s, and ultimately, the big ole bubble burst, I’d like to take this moment to reflect upon our toy mania history, lest we repeat ourselves. Thankfully, 3rd Rock from The Sun has a 1998 episode on exactly this topic — well almost exactly. The toys in question in 1998’s “Collect Call for Dick” are “fuzzy buddies.”
For those of you unfamiliar with 3rd Rock from The Sun, Dick (played by John Lithgow) is one of a group of aliens sent to live on Earth to observe humanity. It’s like a really weird group of anthropologies from another planet. During a trip to a fast food restaurant, Dick receives a fuzzy buddy toy as part of a promotional giveaway. Initially disinterested, Dick becomes invested in the fuzzy buddy craze after learning that several of the toys are rare and valuable.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t realize this until after he gives the extremely rare toy he received at the fast food restaurant to a coworker. He then panics and offers her $500 for the toy. Thus begins Dick’s foray into the world of fuzzy buddy re-selling. This is a 30-minute show, so things escalate quickly. Soon Dick is using the group’s food money to purchase more fuzzy buddies. (Some would call this a real dick move, pun intended).
One of Dick’s fellow aliens urges him to sell the fuzzy buddies for a profit as soon as possible. But Dick’s too caught up in the game. Instead of selling his collection he purchases another rare fuzzy buddy for $800.
The group stages an intervention and Dick is finally confronted with his behavior. By the end of the episode, he sells his whole collection (which is good because the freezer was literally full of fuzzy buddies instead of food). He then goes on a crusade to warn others of the dangers of fuzzy buddies. So I suppose I’ve taken up that mantle with this post here. But I dunno…those squishmallows sure are cute…maybe I should get one of those little ones for my keychain…
Released in February of 1989, Her Alibi earned a whopping half-star rating from Roger Ebert and lead actress, Paulina Porizkova, was nominated for a Razzie.
“This movie is desperately bankrupt of imagination and wit, and Tom Selleck looks adrift in it. He plays a detective novelist, named Blackwood, who has run out of inspiration. So he goes to criminal court for fresh ideas, and there he falls instantly in love with Nina (Paulina Porizkova), a Romanian immigrant who is accused of murdering a young man with a pair of scissors. Blackwood disguises himself as a priest, smuggles himself into jail to meet Nina, and offers to supply her with an alibi: She can claim they were having an affair at his country home in Connecticut at the time of the crime.” — Roger Ebert in his review of Her Alibi (1989)
As with many negative things in life, the bad reviews are a problem of perspective. Much like I hated Footloose when I rented it from the video store as a thirteen year-old who took all older teenagers very seriously, I loved the movie seven years later when I caught it on television and realized it was hilarious and metaphorical in all the best ways possible. It was also an early sign of a doomed relationship when the guy I was dating at the time negged me for loving it! Pro-tip, only date people who graciously give you the space to love campy things!
Okay, back to Her Alibi. We’re going to approach this from the perspective of literally everything is a joke whether or not the movie is in on it. This starts with the opening credits, which has some Clue-worthy theme music. It also features a lot of fake book titles. If you regularly read this blog, you know I’m already a sucker for that. More importantly, the book titles let you in on a very important aspect of this movie: it isn’t take itself that seriously.
Much of the narration in this film comes from Tom Selleck’s character writing his latest novel in a detective series. The titular detective is “Peter Swift,” reminiscent of Tom Swift from the same syndicate that brought you Nancy Drew and The Hard Boys. These are airport novels with corny titles. The cover that features a football helmet bears the title “The Dying Position.” The one with a theater setting is called “Looks Like Curtains.” My personal favorite features a stained glass window of a nun with a giant syringe in the foreground. It’s called “The Dying Habit.” You get the picture.
The film opens with a murder in a New York City apartment building. The only leads are that the victim was a student whose downstairs neighbor heard an argument in a “weird language.” Meanwhile, Phil (Tom Selleck) meets with his editor (William Daniels a.k.a. Mr. Feeny) to discuss his four-year long writing dry spell. Shortly thereafter, Phil heads to court where he sits with a group of other writers, eavesdropping on arraignments for inspiration.
When Nina (Paulina Porizkova) enters the courtroom, Phil develops a crush (and a sudden rush of writing inspiration). There’s just one catch — remember that dead body from just a few minutes ago? They think Nina and a pair of nine-inch scissors are responsible.
Dressed as a priest, Phil visits Nina in jail and offers her an alibi. He will pretend to be her lover and she can come home with him to Connecticut. (They work out this deal while Phil shouts at her across the room with a correctional officer just on the other side of the door. Very stealth.) Understandably, Nina plans to ditch Phil as soon as she is released. Unfortunately, there are a whole bunch of thugs waiting for her as she leaves the jail, so she goes to Phil with Connecticut anyway.
Phil’s Connecticut home is a lovely old farmhouse with lots of vaulted ceilings and stone-facing. True to the promise he made in the jail, he gives Nina the guest room and doesn’t attempt to do anything creepy. He mostly just cooks poorly and writes his novel in his head.
The recurring joke of the movie is that Phil is fairly paranoid, who were it not for the power of lust would probably never take a risk at all. We see this paranoia frequently juxtaposed with Phil’s narration of Peter Swift’s daring exploits. As the night wears on, Phil becomes increasingly terrified of Nina, which is understandable given that she’s an accused murderer who throws a giant knife at his head — to kill a bug.
Isolated in Connecticut, Phil interprets almost everything Nina does as an attempt on his life. He’s so jumpy he falls into the pool while taking out the trash because he catches a glimpse of her through the window. She’s painting her face entirely white. Clearly murderous stuff. But who can’t relate to a(n) (un)healthy dose of paranoia these days?
One day, Nina rides her bike to a local shopping center. While there, she narrowly escapes the thugs from earlier and rushes home to Phil, who is just about to leave for the barber shop. She’s afraid to be alone, so she insists on cutting his hair herself. Phil reluctantly agrees to let her use the presumed murder weapon so close to his major arteries. And we get this sexy haircut scene in return:
Shortly thereafter, Phil teaches Nina how to use a bow and arrow — you can see his new level of trust after having survived the haircut. Unfortunately, shoots him in the ass. One harrowing drive to the hospital later and Phil is paranoid again.
Eventually, Phil works up the courage to ask Nina point blank if she committed the murder. She refuses to answer. He follows her downstairs and sees her brandishing a pair of scissors through a crack in the door. As Phil attempts to barricade himself in his room, Nina appears behind him with a rose. She was only using the scissors to remove the thorns.
We then learn that Phil’s been in a bit of a rut since his wife left him. And taking an attractive accused murderer home might be some kind of subconscious attempt at DIY exposure-response therapy. So does Phil finally trust Nina? He does until a bomb explodes behind him in the kitchen while Nina is a safe distance away in the pool.
Phil asks a writer friend to use her connections to research Nina’s past. He also begins listening in on her conversations. Unfortunately, the only thing Phil’s able to glean from his pocket Romanian dictionary is that Nina has mentioned something about a funeral.
In the next scene, Nina makes dinner for Phil’s entire family. She says it’s a Romanian custom where the youngest woman makes dinner for everyone and then takes a walk while they eat it. When Nina leaves for her walk, Phil gives a little portion of the food to the cat before the rest of the family sits down for dinner.
As it turns out, Nina’s walk consists of fleeing with a friend in a car. Meanwhile over dinner, Phil laughs with his family about all the times he thought Nina had tried to murder him. He then goes to the kitchen and finds the cat, dead. He returns to the table and announces that Nina poisoned them all, but the family thinks it’s another joke. The cat’s dead body quickly proves otherwise.
As the family heads to the hospital, Nina returns to the house so that she can tell Phil the truth about everything — which you may have guessed does not include poison. Alone with Phil’s laptop, Nina reads the novel he’s been writing.
Just as the family arrives home after having their stomachs pumped, a neighbor approaches and explains that his wife saw the cat get electrocuted outside and left its body by the door so as not to interrupt their dinner. Nina then confronts Phil for depicting her as a murderer in his new novel and leaves him for good.
Phil later learns from his contact that Nina’s family of famous acrobats has disappeared in the United States after trying to defect from Romania. It turns out the “funeral” from Nina’s phone call is The Funeral of Grimaldi.
Dressed as a clown, Phil finds Nina at the funeral. This must be sort of a Sandy/Danny at the carnival moment because they both instantaneously overcome their trust issues. They’re chased by the Romanian thugs but fight them off just in time for the lead detective to show up. And good news: Nina’s family’s asylum has been approved! Oh and that dead guy from earlier? He was trying to help them to defect and wasn’t as lucky as Nina and Phil when it came to escaping the thugs.
And what good 80’s movie doesn’t roll credits with a Randy Newman song?
This movie is not quite suspense, not quite romantic comedy (though it’s probably trying to be both). Think of it as a TV movie version of Romancing the Stone. Whether or not you like this movie really comes down to whether or not you’ll get a laugh out of Phil’s corny narration because his novel truly is terrible. Personally, I find tight shots of Tom Selleck mixing a chocolate milk while his voice over says “Swift poured himself a bourbon” to be nothing short of hilarious.
This post is part of the Third Annual So Bad It’s Good Blogathon. For the full roster of posts please click here.
I know you’re all very familiar with Jesse Spano’s caffeine pill problems, but did you know that Alex P. Keaton once took diet pills so he could study more? (Honestly, it sounds like your mileage may vary. Comedian Elna Baker describes taking phentermine and spending several intense hours making a really shitty birthday card in her book, The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance: A Memoir. So in my very special opinion, you’re not gonna get quality results on your mind or body with speed.)
In this episode, Alex wants to stay up all night working on school work. He enlists his sister Mallory’s help in getting diet pills (a.k.a. speed) from a friend of hers. Mallory obtains the pills from her reluctant friend with the promise that Alex will take her out on a date — even though he’s super not into her and fat shames her to Mallory when she tells him the details of the transaction. Oh my gosh the 80’s, there is soooo much that is wrong with this situation. And you can betchya only the pill issue will be addressed in this episode — and only as it relates to Alex.
Alone in his room, Alex delivers a lengthly soliloquy (and a little more fat-shaming) as he agonizes over whether or not to take the pills. Seeking the advice of his framed 8×10 photo of Richard Millhouse Nixon, Alex eventually pops some pills (off-screen).
The next time we see Alex, he’s high on stimulants playing Monopoly with his family (as if Monopoly could be any more aggressive). Alex’s ex-hippie parents are very oblivious to the fact that their son is high. I would truly expect better of people who met at Berkeley.
Later, Alex approaches Mallory for more pills and when she tries to cut him off, he breaks cardinal rule number one (never go through a teenaged girl’s purse) and takes the pills for himself. Mallory tells Alex that she never wants to speak to him again. Alex tells Mallory that if she tells their parents about what he’s doing then she’ll be in trouble with them too. (Seriously? The hip Berkeley parents of the 80’s?? Mallory isn’t all that smart, so she believes this to be true.)
Alex becomes increasingly exhausted and irritable. This culminates in a fight with his mom after he catches her watching a documentary with Jennifer about the human reproductive system. He turns off the television, calls it smut, and says Jennifer should believe in the stork until she’s twelve. Oh boy, the Reagan Years.
Alex’s mother tells him that it isn’t his house and sperm-egg fertilization is science not smut. His mother decides to punish him by having him clean the house — which his speed-addled-heart loves. Come on parents, why so slow on the uptake???
Alex later tries to bribe Mallory for more pills, which doesn’t work. He then calls her friend directly. (On a cute little yellow touchtone phone. Oh man don’t you miss how fun landlines were???)
Mallory’s friend hooks Alex up with more pills (also off-screen). The next time we see him, he’s studying while painting his room bright blue at 3:30 am. This finally causes his father to realize something is up. He then discovers that Alex has only slept four hours total during the past week and finally realizes his kid is on drugs.
Alex tells his dad that he’s doing great on pills. (He isn’t. He started digging trenches for a sprinkler system nobody asked for in the backyard.) Alex’s father tells him that when he was younger he took speed too, which is why he can say that this is a horrible idea. He tells Alex that they both need to go to bed and will discuss this further in the morning. Alex falls asleep mid-lecture. He continues to sleep through his big test.
Waking up an hour late, he frantically tosses his room looking for more pills. It’s so poorly written but Michael J. Fox is so good. He’s really, really too good for this writing. Alex finally realizes he can’t stave off the inevitable crash and that his whole speed plan seriously backfired. We then end with Mallory reminding Alex of the details of his date with her friend — oh and another fat joke.
Very Special Lesson: Sleep is super, super important. Like SO important. It also just makes me sad when people abuse drugs for the purposes of studying. Like damn, I know our education system is broken but still. I suppose the one good thing about this episode is that even model-student goody-goody Alex P. Keaton is not immune to the cycle of addiction. But that’s about all this episode does well. Diet pills and supplements are often terrifying. And popular culture knew that when this episode was released–at least in terms of OTC pills. Allowing for the fact that doctor prescribed diet pills are largely a sign o’ the times in this episode, it’s a real shame that neither Alex nor his (formerly) hip-to-drugs father spare a moment for Mallory’s friend, who was taking those pills to impress people like Alex while most likely suffering the same side effects he found so debilitating. For all we know, she wasted several hours off-screen making him a shitty card, risking her life in an attempt to satisfy conventional beauty standards. But Alex was too busy insulting her, using her, and worrying about his grades to think about how she might be feeling.
On a lighter note–just a quick plug: I’ll be participating in the 3rd Annual So Bad It’s Good Blogathon later this month. Stay tuned for my take on the CLASSIC film Her Alibi staring Tom Selleck and Mr. Feeney.
I do not know what it is about this quarantine, but I must have bright colors and I must have them now! I also must have lost my damn mind because I do not remember spending $38 on a palette. It’s a super cute palette, but I think I got caught up in the branding. I wear eyeshadow literally thrice a year.
Anyway, this palette is “Forever Baby” from Sola Look (the people who brought you the Grease palette). Okay yes, it’s all coming back to me now. They got me with the nostalgia. The packaging looks like an old school VHS tape. My #1 criticism is that there is no watermelon color, but further research tells me that this was included in a retired palette that I missed the boat on. In that case, my new #1 criticism is that they went with “heartbeat” instead of “hungry eyes” for an eye shadow color name. Come on! Otherwise, it’s perfect in every way.
Also bonus points for some truly 80’s colors in here. You could 100% recreate Joan Cusack’s working girl shadow with this.
I participated in the December installment of #MurderSheDrank and it was a JOY. The 2021 series will feature episodes from Season 7, so little old me thought I would take a look ahead and see what’s in store. First of all, this season brings us into the 90’s, which I am quite excited about. Secondly, I think it may contain one of the most gloriously ridiculous plot descriptions I have ever seen with my own two eyes.
The official description on Peacock in innocuous enough: “A fan, posing as Jessica, is arrested and later murdered.” But if you’re wondering for what purpose this fan impersonated Jessica — it was to investigate a local dog show. After reading that, I immediately said to myself: “Oh I have to watch this as soon as humanly possible!”
Let me tell you, this episode did not disappoint. It features a Jess Fletcher fan club that meets around a giant framed photo of her and they all carry around little fake Jessica Fletcher ID Cards. Okay, I’m hearing how stalkery that sounds out of context. But they’re all old ladies! And they all live in a small town in Texas! And it’s 1990! Sadly, one of the fan club members does die in the process of investigating a crime as JB Fletcher. It’s one of the few times the show acknowledges that amateur sleuthing can be deadly.
IDK maybe I need this for my living room? Same setup with candles?
But mostly it’s just super, super cute. Jess pretends to be a dog owner with a very bad fake Southern accent, which she then abruptly drops when she realizes she’s in-character with someone who has already met her as the real Jess Fletcher. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen her off her game. She’s also only able to solve the mystery with the help of her wannabe sleuth fan club. To be fair, the stress of having someone steal her identity and then die must have been a lot.
Back when big glasses weren’t ironic ❤
Jess also has to deal with the logistical nightmare of people thinking she’s dead. This involves a tense phone call with Seth back in Cabot Cove and a lot of canceled credit cards. And she has to use the author’s photo on the back of one of her mass-market paperback (purchased at a local drugstore) in order to prove her identity to the local authorities. And as an added bonus, Jethro from The Beverly Hillbillies and Edna from Laverne & Shirley are in the guest cast!
Here’s the whole club with Jess, y’all.
I was disappointed that we didn’t get to see any ridiculous dog show antics. I super wanted to see that. But that’s my only complaint! Another high point of this episode was that a dog was at one time the prime suspect in this murder-by-gunshot case. So. Classic.
Once JB solves the case…for some reason I feel like not spoiling this one for you…the super sleuth crowd hangs a giant photo of the dead former club member right next to the giant photo of JB. Enshrined in sleuth memoriam. God bless.
For those of you who want to join: This month’s Murder She Drank is tomorrow (Friday, January 15th) and features the first two episodes of Season 7. This includes season 7 episode 2, “Deadly Misunderstanding,” which I covered back in 2015 when I attempted to take on the arduous task of proving how Jessica Fletcher serial killed hundreds of people. Needless to say, JB Fletcher outsmarted me and my “Murder She Did” series didn’t last very long.
First of all, I’m sorry. This episode is a real downer. (For once, I’m not being hyperbolic.) But it features the lovely Ted Danson and it feels right to post this as he embarks on yet another starring role in a TV series with tonight’s premiere of Mr. Mayor.
In this episode of Laverne & Shirley, we see a young Ted almost three years before he became everybody’s favorite bartender on Cheers. And I’ll be honest, he seems a little wooden. He’s still affable and charming, but you can see the inherent shyness that Ted describes having to overcome in order to portray Sam on Cheers. On Laverne & Shirley, he’s playing Laverne’s fireman boyfriend, Randy.
He’s just such a sweetheart who likes Laverne for her brains and her bod. He’s the total package. And did I mention he’s a fireman? (Okay, seriously you’ve been warned to bail on this post now if you don’t want to be very, very sad.)
Laverne and Randy are desperately in love. They’re both a little weird and they both can’t get enough of each other. They share milkshakes, they play with puppies at the fire station, and they even want to get married. Unfortunately, Randy doesn’t make it much farther than halfway through the episode. You see, this is a very special episode after all — which means it’s a total bummer.
Laverne hears the news of Randy’s death from Lenny and Squiggy (who have somehow become volunteer firemen). I think this show is supposed to be a lesson in denial, but I really can’t say I blame Laverne for not believing Lenny and Squiggy. How could anyone take these guys seriously?
The denial really kicks into high gear when Laverne won’t listen to Shirley either. Laverne keeps doing her hair and waiting for Randy to show up. The next morning, she’s still getting ready for Randy when her father arrives to try to get through to her. Laverne refuses to listen to her father, saying that Randy will only be dead if she believes it, which is not exactly how denial works. However, I understand we’re trying to cover a lot of ground in this twenty-five minute episode so broad brushstrokes it is.
Laverne’s dad finally gets through to her by reading from the morning’s newspaper, which describes how Randy died in the process of saving a family. He then describes how he went through the same stages of grief when Laverne’s mother died. This scene is strong even though the episode overall is a bit uneven.
Very Special Lesson: This episode feels a little unnecessarily cruel. Like damn that’s a lot of emotion in twenty-five minutes. This might even be worse than that time Growing Pains killed off Matthew Perry. At least we got a few episodes with him! However, I think it’s still better to have loved and lost Ted Danson than to never have loved him at all.
I don’t own a lot of makeup, but I am a big fan of fun pop-culture related things. So sometimes I get hooked into the makeup stratosphere due to my related obsessions. That’s why I am a big fan of Bésame Cosmetics. Their collaborations are beautiful.
Their most recent line is inspired by Mary Poppins. And while titular character’s set was gorgeous but not quite my speed, I jumped right on the Mrs. Banks nail polish and lipstick duo. Not only because lipstick is the one makeup item that I do semi-regularly wear, but also because this set includes these lovely postcards inspired by Bert’s chalk drawings from the film.
If you’re into purchasing makeup for the sake of the makeup itself and not the stationary that just so happens to come with it, here is a shot of the lipstick and nailpolish:
The lipstick looks great in the tube and it has Bésame’s signature marshmallowy vanilla scent, but I haven’t tried it out yet. I did immediately paint my nails, and I found the formulation to be a bit too thin. I’m not brave enough to leave the cap off for a few minutes, so I’ll have to trust that it will thicken up on its own over time. That said, I’m not sure it’s my color anyway.
As soon as it dried I had a flashback to the time in seventh grade where I had finally vowed to talk to my crush, only to look down at my nails and realize that my new nail polish very closely matched the color of my skin. I promptly told my best friend I wouldn’t be able to go through with it because I looked like I had no fingernails at all. The I spent the rest of the day peeling off my nail polish like a good compulsive.
But oh well I’ll try a second coat and see what it looks like in the daylight. In the meantime, check out the cute packaging:
Mrs. Banks herself.
Votes for Women on the flap.
UPDATE: Turns out all the polish needed was a second coat and a little daylight! It dried into a very subtle shimmery coral. If I had to describe this color, I would call it: 2 parts ballet slippers and 1 part beach sand.
Here are some other makeup reviews I did back in the day. Disclaimer: They, like this one, are not very professional.
Ah The Golden Palace. I wanted to love this show so so much, but let’s face it The Golden Girls just doesn’t work without Dorothy. I at least hope they had more fun filming it without the on-set tension. Plus I’m not sure I love the hotel vibe. There’s so much to do at a hotel that it makes me miss the days when the girls had more freedom to randomly star in school plays or spend all day watching I Love Lucy.
One other item of note before we get into the episode is that I totally forgot they re-recorded the original theme song for the spin-off. I’m definitely partial to the original, but this version isn’t bad either. In this Christmas episode, we hear the standard GG musical interludes but this time with a little sleigh bell action superimposed. It’s quite nice.
At the top of the episode we learn that the hotel’s chef, Chuy (Cheech Marin) hates Christmas because of a string of very bad Christmas luck, including: being drafted, getting divorced, having to be a walking display for a cake at a restaurant and having other humans eat directly from his body (I am so sorry that really needed some kind of warning).
Meanwhile, Rose coaches hotel manager, Roland (Don Cheadle) on how to be the perfect Santa Claus for the children’s hospital. She’s kind of a drill sergeant. It’s really great. She enlists Sophia’s help in a mock present request demo. But Sophia sexually harasses Roland, which yeah…this is uncomfortable. Let’s move on past it.
Next Roland must deal with a seminar full of people who have been traumatized by Christmas and will be staying at the hotel to avoid it entirely. Only no one seems to have told Roland this in advance and he’s now tasked with stripping the hotel of any reminders of the holiday season lest he loose out on a block of fifteen rooms.
Enter Rose: dressed as an elf, ready for some more Santa coaching. She doesn’t react too well to the idea of skipping Christmas. “I’m gonna wear my elf costume or I’m gonna walk around naked.” Blanche then explains that they can still have fun as long as they keep quiet. For example, she still plans to have her date with a Dickens caroler. (This is followed but a lot of Dickens inspired double entendres from which I will spare you.)
But Roland isn’t willing to take any chances. Rose has to ditch the costume and Blanche has to ditch the date. Chuy, as the only grinch, is the one staff member to be happy about the new hotel’s new anti-holiday stance.
That night Chuy awakens from a dream and is greeted by an angelic Rose a.k.a. “The Ghost of Christmas Past.” That’s right. This is a Christmas Carol episode. Turns out those Dickens double entendres were some kind of weird foreshadowing. Chuy says, “You’re not really here. You’re just something I ate at Woodstock.” But of course we’re going on this journey whether or not you believe she’s real. Christmas Rose and Chuy travel to his father’s restaurant. The kitchen looks suspiciously similar to the Golden Palace’s kitchen. But don’t worry about that. It’s an in-show joke. Rose tells Chuy that if his father had an oven and a sink in his kitchen, then it’s close enough.
Here is a photo of young Chuy in the cake table costumer before the slices of dessert have been placed on the table cloth portions.
Oh GOD this is a flashback to the scene that Chuy mentioned earlier where he had to walk about the restaurant dressed as a cake. NO. Hard Pass. Chuy’s dad spins this as a “great honor” and grown Chuy appreciates this whole situation in a different way than young Chuy did. It’s all about “a warm friendly place to celebrate the holidays,” his dad says — which like yeah I get that but can you not do that with a regular table?
Adult Chuy magically returns to his room and Christmas Rose disappears, replaced by Christmas Blanche a.k.a. “The Ghost of Christmas Presents.” (That is not a typo.) Christmas Blanche asks Chuy to tell her what presents he purchased for his coworkers this year. He tells her that he didn’t purchase anything for them.
Christmas Blanche leads Chuy to a walk-in freezer, which is the only place the guests cannot hear or see the Christmas celebration Chuy’s coworkers are having — which includes non-ghost Blanche. The non-ghost version of Blanche tells the others that they can’t open presents until Chuy gets there. Uh-oh. Christmas Blanche asks Chuy if he feels like a total jerk now and he agrees that he does. She then returns him to his bedroom where he meets Christmas Sophia a.k.a. “The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.”
Christmas Sophia guides Chuy to a very dingy looking version of the hotel. Rose is scrubbing the floors in rags and we quickly learn that she, Blanche, and Sophia no longer own the hotel. We also learn that the new owner refuses to let anyone celebrate Christmas. Oh and also future Blanche is a spinster who abhors attention from men. We soon find out that Blanche swore off men after her ex-husband stole the hotel from them. Weirdly enough, her ex-husband is Chuy.
Christmas Sophia tells Chuy that he turned into a horrible person because he hates Christmas. Sounds like solid logic to me. Let’s move on. Future Rose begs Future Chuy to let them have a small Christmas celebration. He agrees as long as they let him dictate the festivities. Unfortunately, this involves forcing Future Sophia to wear the cake table and dance for them while everyone else claps along. I genuinely may have nightmares about this. Not even joking.
Thankfully, present day Chuy wakes up in time to stop this atrocity from happening. He hops out of bed and runs through the hotel yelling “Merry Christmas.” (Guess he forgot about the extra special request from that 15-room block.) When he cannot find his friends, he checks the freezer that Christmas Blanche led him to only to find they’ve all frozen to death. Wow. Dark. Luckily, this too is just a dream.
This is elder abuse.
A now fully awake Chuy rushes into the conference room and shouts “Merry Christmas” at a room full of traumatized seminar attendees. Chuy then engages in some sort of proselytizing. In the middle of his speech, we cut away to Rose drilling Roland on his Santa impression in the lobby. Then Chuy and the entire seminar rush into the lobby, full of holiday cheer. (Whatever Chuy said seems to have worked. Whatever it was.)
Then they all sing O Come All Ye Faithful and Estelle Getty breaks the fourth wall to wish the fans a Merry Christmas.
Very Special Christmas Lesson: I have honestly always found the people-as-tables thing to be disturbing and this furthered my view on that point. Anywayyyy, I guess the more positive message here is that it’s never too late to change. So let’s all carry that into 2021! Happy Holidays, Very Specials Readers!
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