RIP Mr. "C"

I was and still am a TV kid. When I was little I had a toddler size wood rocker. My mother tells stories of how I would pull it right up to within inches of the television screen and watch my cartoons on Saturday morning. As I grew older my favorites expanded to more than cartoons. In 1974, ABC aired a 30 minute sitcom called Happy Days. It was about a 1950's family called the Cunninghams and their son, Richie and his friends, Potsie, Ralph Malph, and, of course, Fonzie. The patriarch of the family, Howard Cunningham, or Mr. "C" as he was known on the show was played by the actor Tom Bosley. He was the master of the delayed surprise take. He gave us the stern father figure with a heart of gold that every character came to for advice. And who could forget those tender moments with his daughter, Joanie, those heart-to-hearts with his son, Richie, his undying support of Fonzie, or his "Frisky" chases up the stairs after his wife, Marian? The show ran for 11 seasons, quite a feat for TV, even by today's standards. Characters came and went on the show, but Tom Bosley was a fixture for the whole run. I loved the show, and I loved Mr. "C". We lost Tom Bosley this week and with him will go some of our Happy Days.

I'm Coming Out

Today is National Coming Out Day. In recent days much attention has been given to LGBT and Questioning Youth. Unfortunately what has caused this attention is that these young people are committing suicide. The reason they are taking their lives is because they would rather die than live their lives daily being harassed and bullied for being different.

From the time I entered the theatrical world at the age of 10 , I have been around gay people. Of course in 1973 most people weren't "Out" I didn't really understand anything about homosexuality. It didn't really make a difference to me. The words "Straight" and "Gay" weren't really in my vocabulary. In High School I can remember having intense discussions with my father about being open minded. It usually fell on deaf ears, but he was from a different time. He was raised a different way, with different beliefs about what was right and wrong. I'm not really sure when it happened, but somewhere in my late 20's I slowly began to become more and more judgemental. I finally got to the point where I and all the people I surrounded myself with became judge and jury, and we knew exactly who was going to heaven and who wasn't. We were going, "they" weren't. "They" meaning homosexuals. We weren't haters, or bashers. In fact you would never know we thought that way. We weren't Westboro Baptist Church. No, we were worse. We "loved" everyone. Isn't that what we were teaching in our Sunday School classes and Bible studies? Everyone but the people who didn't believe the way we did. It was a struggle for me because I had so many friends, good friends, best friends, who were gay. My friends who are reading this, please don't think that my feelings were not genuine for you, and don't stop reading here. I did and do love you! I just thought you were wrong, and tried not to think about our differences. What I have learned or been shown is that "LOVE" cannot be wrong!
The title of this blog post is "I'm Coming Out" I am not writing this to denounce the fact that I am a Christian or that I think that my faith is wrong. And, I am not coming out of the closet. I am still straight, but I am coming out of a darkness I have let myself live in for a long time. Coming out of a blindness to the loving, caring people that I was judging, people that have always been there for me.

A year ago I lost a very dear friend to cancer. I had known him for many years, but I never let myself really know him or his partner until about three years ago. Ironically I played his wife and I really let myself know who he really was, because I stopped seeing him as gay and just saw him as the amazing, caring, loving person he was. When he died, I took it really hard because I was so mad at myself for wasting all of that time. I had such a short time to be friends with him. I watched how much love and care his partner showed him all through his illness, and I cried along with 100's of people at his funeral.

¹"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. ²For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

 ³"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? ⁵You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye. .... Matthew 7:1-5

So, I am coming out! I am coming out of the darkness of judgement and into a light of love. I am coming out to thank all of my dear, dear friends who happen to be gay or lesbian for loving me without judgement in spite of all my flaws. You have taught me so much about what it is to be a true friend, and I love you all so much!

IMAGINE

On February 7, 1964, a significant event happened to music in this country. Four young men from Liverpool, England, named John, Paul, George and Ringo arrived in the USA. I was, at the time, just over 3 months old, so I don't really remember the actual arrival or the now, legendary, appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, but The Beatles, as they were known, were a phenomenon. I would venture to say that if you stopped anyone on the street over the age of 10, they would know at least one Beatles song and probably several. I grew up hearing their music, and the one and only time I can remember seeing them on TV was an appearance on The Smothers Brothers show. They performed Let It Be live. You may like them or you may not, but no one can argue that they are pop icons and essential to any historical anthology of music in America. I wasn't an obsessive fan of The Beatles, but I did and still do love so much of their music.
Today, October 9th, is the birthday of one of The Beatles. John Lennon would have turned 70 today if he had lived. Just as I remember so vividly that amazing live performance on The Smothers Brothers Show with happiness, I also remember another event with great sadness. On December 8, 1980, I was up very late doing homework in my bedroom. I was listening to a local radio station, Q-94, when the DJ came on. You could tell by the tone of his voice that something was terribly wrong. He announced that John Lennon had just been shot outside of his apartment building in New York City. Shortly after they announced his death. I was shocked. Of all people, John  Lennon, the man who penned the words, "Give peace a chance." Someone had taken his life. It was senseless. The assassin had planned it, and in one split second he silenced forever John's contribution to our world.  Some of the most profound lyrics he ever wrote, in his death, were also the most ironic. Wherever you are, John, you don't have to "IMAGINE" anymore.

Words Can Cut Deeper Than the Sharpest Knife

I have written in this blog before about the car accident I was in when I was 11. The reason I am talking about it again is something that happened to me because of the accident. I was permanently marked that night. The smooth, olive skin of my forehead was ripped to shreds by exploding glass. My eyelid was sliced in half, and the bottom of my nose was almost falling off. How does a surgeon even begin to piece something like that together? They do the best they can, and in my case, they used over 100 stitches. As you can imagine, skin that heals from 100 stitches is heavily scarred which brings me to the point of why I am writing this. The following year when I entered 6th grade, I received a note passed to me in class one day. It was a crude drawing of a stick figure, with a large head. All over the face of the figure were "Frankenstein-like" stitches and the word Scarface was written on the note. It had been passed to me by one of the boys in the class. I hadn't provoked it. I hadn't treated him badly in any way. In fact, I barely knew him, but for some reason he felt the need to tease me about something that was beyond my control. I remember acting like it didn't bother me. You see, I had an attitude then of "I'll show him. He's not going to make me cry." I did show him by showing the note to my teacher, who then showed it to my principal. The boy was suspended from school and was made to apologize to me. I often wonder how I would have gotten through all of that and the many years of teasing that would follow as I endured surgery after surgery if I hadn't had that "I'll show them" attitude.

In the last month 3 young boys have committed suicide because they were constantly teased and harassed for being different, something beyond their control and one college student because someone chose to reveal to the world that he was gay over the Internet. I am sick and tired of hearing the excuse of "kids will be kids" or "kids can be cruel" THERE IS NO EXCUSE!!! for bombarding another human being with taunts and name calling day after day after day. I don't have a solution, but I do know that all we can do is love our children every day, and teach them to respect everyone, and to never do anything that would cause someone hurt or pain. We teach them that it is wrong to physically harm people, but if we don't start teaching them the damage they can do with their words, we are lost.

Before "D'oh", There Was "Yabba Dabba Doo"

50 years ago today the world was introduced to a wonderful family named the Flinstones via a little box in their living room called a televison. On September 30, 1960, ABC, premiered the first Prime time cartoon about a prehistoric couple named Fred and Wilma Flinstone and their neighbors Barney and Betty Rubble. The show ran from 1960 -1966, and proved to ABC that an animated show could survive in a Primetime slot. Fred and the gang had a  primetime first. He and Wilma were the first married couple to be shown on TV sharing the same bed, so naturally a child would be introduced. At first pass Fred and Wilma were supposed to have a little boy, but when a sponsor came to Hanna Barbera and suggested that it be a girl so they could market a doll, an episode called "The Blessed Event" aired on February 22, 1963, and the Flinstones had a baby girl. The network sponsored a contest to name her, and, yes, you know the name that won, Pebbles. The little girl with the bright red hair that would forever seal the name of the ponytail on top of one's head as a "Pebbles Ponytail."

I grew up with "The Flintstones." I remember so many shows, and I especially remember that the episodes with Kazoo were some of the favorites of my sister and me. And Jenna and I sang "Let the Sunshine In" for weeks after Pebbles and Bamm Bamm performed it. I was only 3 when the series ended in 1966, but it ran in syndication for years, and most of us, I'm sure, can sing the theme song, but do you REALLY know the words?

Flintstones. Meet the Flintstones. They're the modern stone age family. From the town of Bedrock, They're a page right out of history. Let's ride with the family down the street. Through the courtesy of Fred's two feet. When you're with the Flintstones you'll have a yabba dabba doo time. A dabba doo time. You'll have a gay old time. I have to confess. I don't know what I was singing, but I never knew until recently that the line was: "Through the courtesy of Fred's two feet" Admit it, you know you're singing the Theme song right now, aren't you?
So Homer Simpson if Fred had not paved the way with his "Yabba Dabba Doo," and 6 years of a primetime series (longer than many sitcoms that run today) you would have never had the the chance to utter those immortal words on primetime televison, "D'oh!"

Love Cannot Die

Yes, 2 blog posts in one day. There is a reason for it, though. 18 years ago when my first daughter was born on this day, September 24th, something else took a back seat, my parents' wedding anniversary. Today, however, I must acknowledge another milestone in our household. Along with my oldest daughter turning 18, it also would have been my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Back in 1960, my parents, Ralph and Peggy, were married in Harrisonburg, VA. The reason they were married in Harrisonburg rather than their hometown of Richmond was because it was a second marriage for both of them, and they couldn't find a local minister who was willing to marry them. How times change! I am thrilled that they found someone who was willing or I would not be here to write this blog. Through the life of their marriage, my parents had their ups and downs, joys and sorrows, and successes and failures, like all married couples, but the thing that I can say about them that impressed me most was their devotion to each other. They took their wedding vows seriously and lived by them:


Mom and Dad at their 25th Anniversary



                For better, for worse

               For richer, for poorer,

              In sickness, and in health,

              To love and to cherish,

              Till death us do part.





I wholeheartedly agree with all of those except for one, "To love and to cherish, Till death us do part." When someone dies, our love for them does not, nor do I believe that their love dies for us. It just takes a different form. Our love lives on in our memories of them, the way we feel when we hear a song that we danced to or see a picture of them. There is a quote from a show called Company of Angels. It is spoken by the character of "Joe", to his mother, "Toby" as he tries to help her accept his death and move on. "Love cannot die, Mama" I know my mother thinks of my dad often. I know she still loves him deeply, and I know my dad's love surrounds her and all of us every day!









My Little Girl Isn't Little Anymore

18 years ago today before the sun came up I was on my way to St. Mary’s Hospital. I had planned to be making this trip earlier in the month, somewhere around the 7th of September, but someone else had other plans. You see, I was pregnant, and my baby was 2 ½ weeks late. When I found out I was going to have a baby way back in December, being the TV buff that I am, my mind brought to memory all those sitcom episodes of the madcap goings on of getting the mom to the hospital. The nervous dad, a la Ricky Ricardo, when Lucy nudges him with that all too familiar sitcom phrase, “Honey, it’s time!” Madness then ensues and somewhere before the rush is over the dad has left for the hospital without Mom in tow. Call me crazy, but I kinda wanted that surprise element, that “Honey, it’s time,” but when Leah refused to come on her due date, we planned an induction. The date had been set for September 24th. I would arrive early and they would induce. For those of you reading this who don’t know, they chemically start your labor with a drug called Pitocin. Call me crazy, but I had decided that I wanted to have my baby naturally, yes, you heard me right, sans drugs, no epidural, feeling everything! What they neglected to tell me was that when you are induced there is no build up, you are in HARD labor immediately. Well after 7 hours of hard labor, and no further along than I was when we started, this chick elected to get an epidural. Good thing, too, I ended up having a C-section. Chemically induced labor was stopped somewhere around 5:00 PM because the stress of it was making my baby’s heart rate drop. The doctor was held up at another hospital, so we waited. Around 8:00 PM things started moving very fast. They wheeled me down the hall to the surgical suite and 16 minutes later Leah was born. 9 lbs. 10 oz. Boy, was I glad I had a C-section! She had dark, dark hair and a lot of it, and her eyes were so puffy I could barely see, but they weren’t that murky blue most babies have. They were dark, dark brown, just like mine. In those 16 minutes my life changed forever.

Today Leah turns 18, society’s and the law’s definition of an adult. That doesn’t seem possible to me. Last night as she walked up the stairs to bed, I jokingly said, “Tomorrow when you wake up, you’re a grown-up. This is your last night as a kid.” How odd that feels. Her childhood is over. When that little puffy eyed baby came into the world, I had such a different vision of what her childhood would be like and what it actually became. I thought she would grow up just like every other kid, with her mom and dad in the house together, a brother or a sister, maybe a pet. She didn’t grow up like that, but I can’t really say that I think it would have been better if she had. She’s grown into a remarkable, confident, talented young woman that has wonderful ambitions for her future, and I know she’ll make them happen! Enjoy your day, my sweet girl, and cut Mom a little slack if you catch me a little teary today. I love you so much!!! You’ll always be my little girl, and I will hold those memories of you close to my heart as long as I can, but I am also proud to call you my friend. Happy Birthday.