Who can turn the world on with her smile? Mary—with a little help from a lot of people

 

I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ll always consider “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” (which ran on CBS, Saturday nights at 9:00pm from 1970-77) my all-time favorite tv show.  I think it’s partly because in that fall of 1970 when her show began, our family had also just moved (like Mary did in her first episode).  Okay so we didn’t move to Miinneapolis, but for a 9 year old like me, it was pretty tough leaving your neighborhood, school & friends behind.  And when I watched a nervous Mary stumble into her new life, I felt an instant connection.  She was sweet, and funny, and pretty—I was smitten.

So when I heard of this new book about the show, I wasted no time getting my copy.  Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted: And all the Brilliant Minds Who Made The Mary Tyler Moore Show a Classic by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong.  (Click on the title to see the book on Amazon.)  

I couldn’t put it down, but I can’t help but feel the title was a little misleading.  Yes we get to read all about Mary, Lou, Rhoda & Ted (and Murray and Phylllis too) but the book focuses just as much (if not more) on the series creators, James Brooks and Allen Burns, and especially on the women they hired—secretaries and female writers who helped make the show what it was.  Does Treva Silverman (one of MTM’s early writers) deserve her accolades?  Yes.  Do we need to read about her 2 year trek across Europe during the shows run, to find herself?  Not really, no. 

But it still delivers one helluva history lesson in early 70s television, and how MTM almost didn’t make it.  At the time, TV Guide wrote “this is preposterous, are they really making a show about a 30 year old spinster?”  Network execs worried the concept was too sophisticated for middle-class America, a single girl trying to make it on her own.  They reminded James Brooks that on ‘That Girl’, Marlo Thomas had Donald—and an apartment paid for by Daddy.  Where were the outlandish schemes?  The slapstick?  The laughtrack?  Brooks insisted it be about an ordinary woman living an ordinary life; a good ensemble would drive the show. 

The only reason it even made it to tv was because of ‘Laugh-In’.  Fred Silverman (the new head of programming at CBS) saw the ratings for it on NBC and wanted something urban and modern for his network too.  And in less than a year, TV Guide would be singing a whole different tune, calling MTM the “gold standard” for television comedy.

I love this:  Joe Rainone, a 26 year old accountant from Rhode Island was a fan and wrote long letters critiquing what worked & didn’t after each episode.  The MTM staff were so impressed, they flew him to LA for a week, for the taping of an episode.  Here he is (center) with Mary and James Brooks

 

But it really was a first, in many respects—no tv show had been written by an assortment of women before.  James Brooks said “when I put in the script that Mary says ‘I’ll go get cleaned up’, the female writers yelled ‘a woman would never say that!’”  The women also pushed for more realism, inisisting her apartment not be “all girlish and fluffy” and even limiting her wardrobe.  “No working girl has an endless closet.”  Mary would wear the same dress or blouse she’d worn on an earlier episode, with a different belt or scarf instead.

Mary crochets while Rhoda watches tv; MTM received scores of letters from fans who considered these moments their favorite parts of the show

I loved reading about the casting too;  I thought I’d heard it all, but still found some surprising tidbits.  When Gavin McLeod (Murray) auditioned for his part, he asked why Ted Knight was there; it turns out Ted was also Gavin’s business manager.  Enemies on the show, they were close friends in real life.  The same with Cloris Leachman (Phyliis) and Valerie Harper (Rhoda).  Always at each others throats in Mary’s apartment, in actuality Cloris saw Valerie Harper as her best friend.  And when Betty White later joined the cast as Sue Ann Nivens, it turns out that she (and her husband, Allen Ludden of Password) were fixtures in the studio audience.  They’d never missed a taping of the show.

 

The author of this book, in front of the Victorian house where Mary, Rhoda & Phyliis lived.  Decades after the series ended, fans still flock to see it

I know I’ve gone on too much here but I’ve barely skimmed the books surface.  For instance, I don’t think the women of today realize the positive influence this show had—not just on women writers, but for women’s rights.  In one episode where Mary’s parents visit, her mother turns to her husband and says “don’t forget to take your pill dear”.  Mary is busy in the kitchen and answers “I won’t” then realizes it wasn’t meant for her, as her parents turn to stare.  A funny moment in one episode that made headlines—and got cheers across the country from the women’s lib movement.  Such a line wouldn’t be given a second thought today.

I own “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” on dvd, and I’ve probably seen every episode more times than I’d care to admit.  But as a middle aged man, I watch it now in a different light.  Where before I’d be transported to Mary’s apartment, a single adult living in the city with funny and caring friends, it now reminds me of those Saturday nights in our little farmhouse, surrounded by my parents and brothers and sisters.  And I am home again.

I sure do love you, Mary! 

Welcome to the Official Dude Club—wait, is there really a dude club?

The other day in the office, my buddy Jeff approached me and said “Hey Doug, I heard about your Dude Club.  Can I join?”  I said “Dude Club?  What dude club?”  But before he could answer it hit me—I think I get it.

You’ve probably heard me mention this before, but I work with a large group of women.  There’s Jamie, Julie, Candace, Gwen, Rita, Mia, Kim, Kathy & Danielle.

There’s just two guys in our group, myself and Steve.  Now I’m not knocking our set-up for a minute—this is a talented bunch, funny and smart and hard working.  We have a good team. 

But I think the older I get, the more I see the differences between the sexes (besides the obvious).  I’ve always gotten along pretty well with most women, and count many of them as good friends.  But at the same time… you’re always aware they are a different species.

Here’s Steve, the other dude in our group;  you won’t  meet a nicer guy

This whole “Dude Club” began awhile back in the office.  One day, after learning of an upcoming new hire to our team (another man) a flurry of emails went back & forth between the women in our group. 

“What's this new guy's name?”  “What’s he going to do?” “How come the boss never hires any eye candy?” 

I watched all of this transpire, but said nothing.  My friend Julie noticed this, texted me and asked “Fresh, why aren’t you joining in?”   (She calls me Fresh.) 

I said “You don’t see Steve replying to any of these emails, do ya?”  Julie said “You’re right, why is that?” 

I said “Because we don’t care about this kind of stuff.  We are dudes.” 

Julie said “Well I want to be a dude too.”

I told Julie that wasn’t so easy. “WHY” she asked, then added “I’m more a dude than you!”  I said “Well, your hair is shorter than mine, and you can probably kick my butt, but that still does not a dude make.  Why do you want to be one?” 

Julie said “Because women are crazy.  They need women pills.  I think all the women who work downtown should have to get in line every day for their lunch and their pills.  ‘Here’s your lunch and here’s your women pills.  Next!’  I’m not crazy like them.”   I said ok, ok—that’s too damn funny.  You can be a dude too.  This made Julie pretty happy.

When she’s not busy being a dude, Julie enjoys being married to her husband Jimmy

But I might’ve been a tad premature in handing down that dude decree.  For instance, when Steve (or Jeff who sits behind me but is on another team) walks past my desk in the morning and says “Good morning Doug”  I’m usually friendly right back.

But sometimes these guys may get a grunt or crappy response in return.  It could be for any number of reasons—I hate Mondays, I’m under pressure to get something done, maybe I just got out of bed on the wrong side that morning and feel like being a dick.  

Do these guys care?  Hell no!  Steve wants to settle in and look at last night’s lottery numbers, and Jeff is anxious to check his voicemail and eat his breakfast.  They are dudes.  

The following however, is not dude behavior:

JULIE:  Good morning Fresh… (eyes me suspiciously)

DOUG:  Good morning Julie.

JULIE:  Whoa—what’s with the attitude?

DOUG:  What attitude?

JULIE:  I saw the way you arched your eyebrow at me.

DOUG:  What the—I didn’t arch anything!

GWEN:  What’s going on over here?

JULIE:  Fresh is giving me attitude—and he won’t tell me why.

GWEN:  At least he acknowledged you—I came in this morning and got snubbed!

DOUG:  Gwen I didn’t snub you, I was in the men's room!

JULIE:  Fresh I’m still waiting for an answer.

Now Gwen can be excused for her women drama, she’s one of them.  Julie on the other hand… well, her husband is a cop so she’s suspicious by nature.  I know she’s trying her best, but getting back to Jeff’s question about joining our so-called club:  when I asked “Dude Club?  What dude club?”  

Jeff said “Julie told me that you, her & Steve are dudes and I can be one too if you guys are okay with it.  So am I in?” 

Yes Jeff, you can be one too.

My quest for The Golden Fleece (I have the money so what’s the problem?)

 

Friday, 6:00 pm.  Like a gazillion other office drones, there’s not a better time of the week.  I’ve just arrived home (after stopping at the market first for some weekend essentials—a loaf of raisin bread, half a chicken and a bottle of Baby Ray’s barbecue sauce) and the only thing I have planned for tonight is a ham sandwich and one or two episodes of “Breaking Bad” on my DVR. 

I kick off my shoes, toss the chicken in the fridge and turn on my computer (just to confirm I haven’t gotten some emergency waiting for me, like a message from the bank that Russian hackers emptied my account) and see this instead:  an email from the Roddenberry Transmitter (where hardcore Trekkies go to shop), proudly announcing the arrival of ‘Master Edition’ Star Trek tunics. 

“Produced by Anovos, these Star Trek tunic replicas are the most accurate representation of the 1960’s era wardrobe available. Using decades worth of accumulated research and access to the original garments, great care has been taken in reconstructing these tunics. These replica faithfully represent the original wardrobe seen on Star Trek – The Original Series.”

It then goes on about their quest to find the original dye colors & fabric, the meticulous handcrafting of the gold braided sleeves and how no serious fan should be without one.  The price: $200.00.  Yeow!  That’s a lot of money for Captain Kirk’s shirt.  And right now I can think of nothing better then seeing one of these golden treasures hanging in my bedroom closet.

Here’s where I keep all my regular top gear:  you may need to make some room, boys

So I sit here staring at it, trying to put it out of my head which is difficult to do when it’s looking right back at me.  I mean c’mon, it’s an obvious waste of money.  For gosh sakes, I need a new pair of glasses (and my last pair cost $550.00).  I need a new couch.  My niece’s birthday is coming up.  I have 25% of my salary deducted into savings and investments for those dreams of early retirement so I’m on a budget.  Plus I want to hire a painter to do some work in my apartment.

Will I wear it to sci-fi conventions or costume parties?  No.  Will I wear it to the office on Halloween?  I’m self-conscious enough there as it is.  Will I take it out of the closet and proudly show company?  “Shawn, Jim--guess how much I paid for this—go on, guess!” 

So what would I do with this bad boy besides let it hang?  I know what Spock would say, and blast it he’s right.   

“Douglas, I fail to understand how owning this replica of a fictitious organization from the future is going to serve any useful purpose; logic demands you buy a new sofa instead.

Why am I even writing about this, no one wants to read about some goofy-ass Star Trek shirt anyway.  It’s forgotten, I’m going to bed.  (Thanks Spock.)

 

Stardate 20130921.  It’s Saturday morning, I have a list of things that need done and I can’t stop thinking about that damn shirt.  

Now I know how Ricardo Montalban felt in ‘Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan’ when he was explaining to his cohorts his need to capture Captain Kirk:  “He tasks me!”  (By the way, I’ve seen that movie around 215 times, does that impress you?)  I need to make a decision here… I’ll be back.

Stardate 20130922.  It’s Sunday morning, my stomach is full of raisin toast, and I’ve made my decision.

As much as I want this awesome tunic, if I’m going to shell out the big bucks then I feel like I have to earn it.  (That’s how the Enterprise crew got theirs!)  If I can lose that 25 lbs I keep griping about, the shirt will be mine.

I think this is just the challenge I needed.