Call me Rose

Do you remember when The Golden Girls was on television?  I do.  If I remember correctly, the show aired on Saturday nights.  Don’t quote me on that though because my social active life made it difficult for me to watch tv on Saturday nights.  By active social life I am referring to watching the Love Boat and probably Golden Girls with my folks.  Anyway, I remember it was one of the shows my mom got a kick out of and enjoyed.  And so, because I have a chameleon personality and will absorb other people’s interests, I of course enjoyed it.  In hindsight, I probably didn’t understand or relate to a group of geriatric women but because mom laughed I laughed.

When it’s not Hallmark Channel’s Christmas time (which is about ¼ of the year) that channel will play The Golden Girls.  A lot.  My cable company recently messed up its schedule which means I have an opportunity to watch The Golden Girls.  A lot.  If I choose to do so.  Or if there is absolutely nothing else on.

So, I succumbed to boredom one night and watched an episode.  Or tried to watch an episode.  It was my first time watching since the show went off the air so many years ago.

I learned a few things.

For one thing, I learned they weren’t as old as I thought they were.  Don’t get me wrong, they are not spring chickens.  But when I originally watched the episodes they seemed so old.  Now, I would classify them as older.  Dorothy’s ma was still alive for Pete’s sake.  I am now closer in age to the characters on the show then I am to the age I was when the show was originally on.  Let me stress, closer, not in their age bracket yet.

Two, they were mean to Rose.  Were they friends, really?  I don’t know that I would like to be roommates with Dorothy specifically.  I’m a bit slow on the uptake and I don’t think I’d like to live with someone who consistently and constantly mocked me.

This leads me to my third observation.   As I watched that particular episode I realized: Rose Nylund is my spirit Golden Girl.  I am Rose.

Rose Nylund spirit

Granted, when I watch I can still hear my mom’s laughter at the jokes and her comments.  For that reason, I can watch a few minutes of an episode.  But then I have to switch it and find something uplifting to watch.  Walker, Texas Ranger is on at the same time if I get desperate enough. For a few moments though, I almost feel like I am watching with mom.

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