Mare and Ro.....and us

Last night as I waited for the meteor shower, I watched Mary and Rhoda. I didn't want to think about plot lines or scripts or analyze deep meanings..I wanted comfort. I wanted some time back, time when everything wasn't clear and I still had dreams. I opened the door so I could see the sky and I put on every episode of Mary that featured Rhoda. Best friends. No matter what, Mary and Rhoda were there for each other.

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I know..Mary and Rhoda were the very first independent UNmarried women ever featured on a TV show..that had a lot of appeal in the 70's when the times were a changin', but, truthfully, the stuffy networks were still behind the times. Way behind..but, beggers can't be choosers and I think most women loved Mary and Rhoda. It was progression..of sorts.

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My best friend and I lived together at the time. We were both single and raising a kid. The networks would never have put our lifestyle on television. We pooled our very meager resources and got a decent house. There was no such thing as child care back then, so we worked it out where someone was always home with the kids..mostly me. Kid raising was not her thing. And this is not a bad roomie story, we're still friends after all these years. But, back to Mary and Rhoda.

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Let me start out by saying, Mary..did not translate to color very well. When she was Laura Petrie in black and white, I don't think anyone would disagree that she was the cutest thing on TV. Then the 70's happened and an older single Mary suddenly appeared in Minneapolis, alone and tossing her hat hopefully in the opening credits. Mary was originally supposed to be a divorcée, but because the network was afraid viewers might think that Mary had divorced Rob Petrie ( Dick Van Dyke, for those of you who lived in a TV-less commune in the 70's ), they changed it..she had fled from a "broken engagement" instead. We never really knew why she broke that engagement, but, he must have been pretty bad or Mary wouldn't have dumped him. She was way too nice.

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Anyway, color wasn't good to Mary. She was supposed to be so beautiful that no man could resist her..in fact a lot of the episodes centered around that very fact. My girl friend and I used to sit on the sofa and look at each other and say "Why didn't that dude hit on Rhoda?" We weren't impressed that Mary was the skinny one, we were both skinner than Mary Richards and so was almost everyone we knew. The seventies was a skinny decade. Rhoda was so self-deprecating she introduced herself as "Hi, I'm beautiful Mary's unattractive, but, good natured friend, Rhoda." In truth, which was confirmed by my Mary and Rhoda marathon last night, Rhoda was gorgeous. She had huge sparkling eyes, luminescent skin and a great smile. Mary, in color, had deep wrinkles on her forehead, her teeth were so big they didn't fit in her joker mouth and she stuttered when she was nervous..which was just about all the time. And I'm not even going to mention that big polyester wig they made her wear. But, she was nice. Except when she was mad that someone was taking advantage of her good nature, which was also almost all the time. Rhoda was sharp and witty and her lines still hold up..she was funny. Except when she was complaining about how fat she was. When the director finally took Rhoda out of the knee length cardigan vests, she was all of a size 6. And that was back when a 6 was really a 6 and not a 12 like it is now. Rhoda was hot. They never did take that rag off her head, I guess that was her signature, but, they did give her her own show eventually. Her spin off was just as good as Mary, until they gave her what she wanted..marriage. That was the downfall of Rhoda, but, I'm getting ahead of myself.

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Mary and Rhoda had quite the wardrobe, didn't they? Except no one dressed like that. My friend and I used to look at Mary's latest polyester nightmare and say WTF is THAT? And we'd crack up with laughter at their giant floor length culotte hostess gowns. I once tied a scarf around my head and annouced I was the Rhoda. My girl friend, Shirl was pissed. She said, you are NOT the Rhoda, I'm the Rhoda. I screamed, how do you get to be the Rhoda?? She contemplated this as she walked over to throw a vinal Carole King's Tapestry on our fireplace stereo. ( The plastic wood fireplace with spinning electric logs and a stereo in the top was hers. The Venus D' Milo lamp may or may not have been mine.) She said, I'm funnier than you. That was true. No one is funnier than Shirl. I always told her she needed to take her act to Vegas. She continued to make her point, everyone knows you're the hot one. All the guys like you. Then she added the final insult..YOU are nice. Like Mary.

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Now that was just low. I said, I am NOT nice. She said (adding a Bronx accent), Oh, yeah, you are, you even like those things upstairs. What things, I asked? Those things, she said waving her hands in the direction of the stairs, those little loud things. Me: "Our children?" Yeah, them. I sputtered, I don't like them that much. All I remember then is us collapsing in laughter. And on the TV Rhoda at last had a date, but, he clearly liked Mary better. What a putz.