Bastet

Whoever was organizing our ten-year high school reunion went into full-on stalker mode. Someone called my parents' house to ask for my address, and my mom said no, she would not give out that information, and she happened to know I had zero interest in attending a reunion, but she'd be happy to pass a message along anyway. Then someone called the mom of one of my best friends, who's a teacher at the school, to ask for my address! Thankfully, she also respected my privacy and said that's not information she's comfortable divulging, so no one ever got my address. By our twentieth, someone would have easily been able to find my work contact info online, but thankfully we never had another reunion.

I'm taking such comfort in revisiting this show right now. No matter how many times I watch it, I never fail to marvel at the writing and the acting. The way Linda Bloodworth-Thomason (and later Pamela Norris, but Linda remained the master) explicitly addressed issues big and small with honesty, heart, and humor is masterful, but wouldn't have succeeded as it did without the delivery. And while the line delivery on the big moments is legendary, the little things they did are just as great. For all of Julia's epic rants, one of the funniest things Dixie Carter ever did was ask, "What'd she say?" when Suzanne mumbles the item she is peddling is edible underwear. And when Charlene recounts the "There's no need for introductions, Ray Don" encounter to remind Julia who the IRS auditor is, the way Jean Smart imitates Julia every time she says the name Ray Don is pure art. The way they all play off each other is truly something to behold, and a large part of why the show endures. I remember an article about that wonderful reunion special they did for Lifetime (which was airing the show in syndication, to great success) noting that Hal Holbrook said, during a break in its filming, how lovely it was to revisit the show because they all loved each other, and they all had such wonderful craftsmanship. He's right, and that combination shines through, and it's timeless.

The Stanford TS surprised me at first, but based on their answers, they obviously don't know the Pac-12 (which makes sense based on their locations). Seven Sisters still surprises me, though. As does extra virgin olive oil. I'm also a bit surprised only one got FJ. I cannot believe the Sistine Chapel clue was in DJ. Even in the Toddler Tournament, that would be a $200 clue. I laughed that Sirad, the Princeton student, rang in first with (University of) Texas after Marshall, the UT student, had nabbed the clue about a novel set at Princeton. Emma was so dominant in the first round, I thought it was going to be a runaway, but it got competitive in DJ. I was rooting for her, but good game. I had a good one, too, just missing a few scattered clues in DJ.

Ooh! I almost stopped reading when I saw it was Kim Zimmer and Robert Newman (I kind of think I'd like her, but I hated Reva and Josh and the way they ate the show SO MUCH I have a visceral reaction), but then I spotted Maureen Garrett's name and squealed. Add in Liz Keifer and Jerry verDorn, and I am there! Thanks for letting us know.

Other than the missing apostrophe, this made me laugh:

Oh, yeah, this will go smoothly and equitably:

Because I watched it over and over as a kid, I associate her with The Cat and The Canary. Dying peacefully at home with her family after 94 years of life is pretty much the ideal way to go. It's unfortunate that if her family wants to have any sort of memorial gathering with others, that will have to wait, but all in all I hope they're comforted by the fact she enjoyed (and she did indeed seem to enjoy it) a long life. I like this (from the linked obituary):

Yeah, I certainly hope it's not happening now! But I don't understand why it ever happens. This came up in conversation with my mom's cousin many years ago, and when she said she enjoys when people unexpectedly stop by, I was gobsmacked. I've never known anyone to regard the pop-in as anything other than the rude intrusion it is, and I really can't wrap my mind around thinking it's okay to just turn up at someone's door without asking and expect to be welcomed with open arms. My mom, who had a visiting friend with her, once phoned me from the car - meaning she was on "speakerphone" - to say they'd just had lunch in the area and wanted to know if they could stop by so Friend could see all the work I'd done on my house. At least they didn't just show up, but the hell?! I barely know this woman; show off your own projects! If she's into home renovation projects herself, tell me in advance she'll be visiting and ask if I might like to show her what I've done. Then I can plan, and invite you over at a convenient time. I replied, "Remember when I was a kid, and you'd admonish me for asking you if a friend could stay for dinner or spend the night in front of said friend?" And, no, I didn't let them come over; I said hello the friend, and hoped she was having a nice visit, but I was not prepared for company at the time.

We were supposed to have rain in L.A. starting today, but it's late; I truly believe there are a whole lot of people who are more likely to stay home because it's raining here (we don't get a lot of rain, so we're not particularly good at dealing with it) than because we're in the middle of a global pandemic because of which we have been ordered to stay home since if we don't we will completely overwhelm our healthcare system and people who otherwise could have been saved will die.

Aw - my "niece and nephew" (two of my friend's cats; I am "Auntie Bastet to quite a few cats) are black litter mates named Scully and Spooky, and Spooky has a (very) little bit of white in the same spot as Fox.

And that was all Dixie Carter, not the script; she couldn't keep a straight face after Annie Potts delivered that line, so she came up with a reason to turn her back to the camera -- Julia would turn back to the bar to down her drink.

My favorite part of that is her telling people their dirty gloves belong in the trash, not the parking lot next to their car. Because my Nextdoor feed is, pardon the pun, littered with posts showing photos people have taken of gloves (and some disposable masks) on the ground in grocery store parking lots. Assholes.

When I first got Maddie, she was terribly sick and just wanted to hide all day (and then get in bed with Baxter and me at night), and her chosen place was the shelf of my bedroom closet. When she started feeling better, I'd find her sitting on the hangers instead! (She had been sick for so long, she was down to 4-1/2 pounds, so she could sit on and walk across the hangers without moving them enough to knock her off balance.) I, too, figured she jumped and pulled herself the rest of the way, rather than being able to jump that high, but I never managed to see it. We had those pillows for sitting up in bed when I was a kid, and when not in use they were on the bedroom floor - and the cats would curl up so they were "hugged" by the back and an arm.

I love her putting that crown back on. There's only room for one queen bee. Yes, she hums a little ditty, and then toasts in the direction of the bedroom where everyone is sleeping, "Well, girls, Happy Vacation." I also love Suzanne in "Big Haas and Little Falsie", when she says to Mary Jo (re. training bras), "You little people have to train yours, and you call us dumb?" I just love that they made an entire episode about how society treats breast size. "These things are power!" Annie Potts has said women still come up to her on the street and do that line. The next disc, which I'll watch tonight, includes "The Wilderness Experiment" and I can't wait. "Some white girl."

I'm now one disc into season three in my re-watch, and it's not as if I've never noticed this before, and the episode is still hilarious, but the fundamental flaw of "Reservations for 12, Plus Ursula" - that the Ursula situation exists in the first place because of the kids' presence, yet nothing about that makes sense - bugs me: First, Charlene tells her parents Mary Jo and J.D. are bringing their kids, except Claudia, who is on a ski trip. So that should be four kids - Mary Jo's Quint, and J.D.'s Rex, Hannah, and Burt. Add Reese's two grandkids, and there should be six kids. Except there are five, all little (and none of them being the actors who previously played Quint, Hannah, and Burt, there's just some random, barely-seen group of five children). The live-in au pair for a long weekend makes even less sense if there are teenagers to help keep an eye on the little ones, so I understand Rex not being there from a storytelling standpoint, but they should have thrown in a line explaining his absence like Claudia's. Fundamentally, why in all hell do SEVEN adults, four of whom are parents, need an au pair to stay with them for a long weekend to help take care of five kids? Five is how many Mary Jo and J.D. have between them, and just the two of them didn't need to hire help when they went to a local hotel for the weekend. But add five more adults, to what is planned as a family vacation, and suddenly they need another set of eyes and hands? When Reese blows off the objections to the old lady they'd just interviewed, he says all she has to do is sit there if they want to go to a movie, and J.D. says when the kids are at the beach at least one of them will be with them*. And that scenario - hiring a babysitter to watch the kids one evening while the adults go out - makes sense. Having an au pair board with them does not. *But, of course, as the guys are headed to the beach with the kids, Ursula shows up, so they not only decide to sit in on the interview, they send the kids on ahead alone! With that said, the episode is hilarious. Delta Burke's line delivery when Suzanne tells Mary Jo, "I mean, here you have this gorgeous girl who gets up at 5:30, cooks your boyfriend's breakfast, then goes jogging with him. And what do you do? You're in the bathroom trying her brassiere on your head!" is perfection. As is Charlene's initial, "Mary Jo! You put her bra on your head?!" reaction. And, of course, Mary Jo's compulsion in the first place. "Suzanne's fits me like a beanie, but Ursula's covered my whole face." I also love when Julia smacks Reese on the butt when he tries to roll over and go back to sleep. And other than the parenting/grandparenting fail, the characterization is right on -- Suzanne is the only one who takes on Ursula herself; the others aren't annoyed with her, they're annoyed with how the guys react to her, including right in front of them.