Humor

Golden Girls and Happy Twirls

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Blanche, left, wandering into the living room from wherever she had been but she no longer was: “Rose, darlin’, what on earth are you watchin’ on that wretched news program that is making you weep so? You shouldn’t watch things that make you cry. All that wetness makes your face puffy, and let’s face it, you’ve already got enough puffiness with that hair.”

Rose, right: “Oh, it’s not wretched news. It’s good news. And these are happy tears, and I think happy tears are worth the puffiness.”

Blanche: “Good news? Did they find a batch of eligible gentlemen in Miami that haven’t yet had the honor of dating me?”

Rose: “I wouldn’t know about that, but I doubt it, considering how many times that turnstile has clicked at your bedroom door. No, they just announced that Joe Biden will be our next president.”

Blanche: “Joe Biden? That name rings a bell. Is he better than the one we have now?”

Rose: “Of course he is. How can you not know that? I’m the slow one, according to the scriptwriters.”

Blanche: “Well, I’ve been busy and I haven’t had time for politics. Besides, what does it matter to me who wins?”

Rose: “Blanche Devereaux, pardon my French, but you are dishonoring democracy saying something like that.”

Blanche: “Oh, honey, I’ve been dishonored before. Many, many times. Why, I got a special certificate in high school for that very thing. Given to me by Coach Oakwood, the manliest man in the county at that time. And I should know.”

Rose, puffy face and hair contracting into a squint: “Well, pardon my French again, but you are really self-centered Blanche. This is important to me and the least you can do is pretend to care.”

Blanche, eyes widening: “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you mad. Here, let’s sit down on the 80s tropical-themed couch and talk about it and eat that cheesecake you’ve been holding since the opening of this scene. Wait, where is the couch?”

Rose, casting her puffy eyes downward: “Well, that’s a little bit my fault. I was trying to open a jar of pickled herring and it fought back. Let’s just say there were a lot of stains in places that they shouldn’t be and the couch is in rehab at the moment. We’re supposed to get it back on Tuesday.”

Blanche: “Okay, that’s more in line with what I expect from you, so I’m getting back in my comfort zone. No worries, we can just stand here and work things outs. Despite the nasty rumors, I actually can resolve situations without furniture that allows me to sprawl out on my back. So, this Joe guy is better than what we have now?”

Rose: “Yes! Pardon my French, but the one we have now has spent four years trying to tear the country apart.”

Blanche: “Honey, stop apologizing for your French, especially since you don’t really know what that phrase means. “

Rose: “Oh, good. I didn’t think I did, but it’s no wonder. In St. Olaf, we weren’t allowed to speak foreign languages unless one of your cows won a blue ribbon.”

Blanche: “That doesn’t seem right. You’re always throwing out those long-ass Norwegian words that nobody understands but they all seem to somehow involve fish or surprise pregnancies.”

Rose: “That’s the scriptwriters again. They think it’s funny to make me move my mouth in a way that a virgin farmgirl shouldn’t.”

Blanche: “Got it. I just played out that same scene with a gentleman caller the other night and… sorry, making it about me again. Let’s get back to the current president and his tearing.”

Rose: “Right. Well, pardon my… Norwegian, but he has tried to demonize everybody in this country who isn’t white and rich and male.”

Blanche: “Huh. That leaves out a lot of people.”

Rose: “Exactly! He hates immigrants.”

Blanche: “In a country that was founded by immigrants?”

Rose: “And he hates people of color.”

Blanche: “Even though there are more people of color than there are white people in the world?”

Rose: “And he hates women.”

Blanche: “How can that be? Is he gay?”

Rose: “Oh, he hates gay people, too. But you do know that gay people don’t hate women, right? They just don’t want to play pin the tail on the donkey with them.”

Blanche: “That’s an interesting image. Anyway, with all his hatred, how did this current president get elected in the first place?”

Rose: “Because some of the people who voted for him are immigrants and people of color and women and gays, the very people he has tried to dehumanize.”

Blanche: “That sounds absurd and ridiculous.”

Rose: “Any more ridiculous than you not paying attention to what is happening? Did you even vote?”

Blanche: “I meant to, I really did. But the turnstile was clicking and I got distracted. Still, it sounds like things are about to change with this new Joe guy.”

Rose: “I think so. I have to hope so. Anything has got to be better than the last four years of hate in the White House.”

Blanche: “And what does Dorothy think?”

Rose: “I haven’t asked her. She’s up on the roof right now.”

Blanche: “The roof? What on earth? Is she that desperate to get a man that she’s now trying to catch low-flying aircraft with those giant shoulder pads of hers?”

Rose: “She’s trying to get Sophia to put her top back on. Apparently it’s a Sicilian tradition for women to bare their breasts in appreciation for an election result that meets their approval.”

Blanche: “Really, now? I think I’ll go join them. It sounds fun.”

Rose: “Because you approve of the election or you just want to take off your top?”

Blanche: “Both. And it never hurts to keep your merchandise in the window.”

Blanche sashayed away, stage left.

Geraldine, one of the new housemates, sashayed in, stage right. “Rose, honey, who are you talking to?”

Rose: “Oh, just one of my girls.”

Geraldine sighed. “You know we’ve talked about this. Your girls aren’t here anymore.”

Rose: “Oh, yes they are. They’re just a little bit above me. And I’ll be with them some day. But right now I’m going to keep watching the news and being happy and trying to remember the Norwegian word for hope. Would you like some of this cheesecake? There’s plenty enough for everyone if we slice it just right.”

 

Categories: Humor

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40 replies »

    • Thanks, Lynette. I’ve been savoring and enjoying and twirling. So much so with the twirling that I managed to spill some Ojeda’s salsa on my American-flag Converse tennis shoes. But that’s been the only stain on the last few days… 😉

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  5. A word from red-eyed Golden but grim Girl Laura Ingraham; ‘The Fox Propaganda/News network is currently experiencing technical problems with its programming. We regret it appears we can no longer rely on our usual Fantasy/dark comedy/dramady.’

    Liked by 2 people

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  11. They all came back to celebrate Joe? Aw. Wait. THREE of them came back, ol’ Betty is still hanging in there, even though she’s got to be slightly older than God at this point. With the passing of Sir Sean Connery on Halloween (how spooky is THAT?) her time can’t be long stationed here on earth. They were roughly the same age. I hope their state of competus mentus (spell??) wasn’t the same though. He was rumored to have dementia (well he was in the slightly older than God category too), and the thought of Betty being more off beam than those scriptwriters of long ago portrayed her? *shudder* unthinkable! Go Joe! And ding dong the warlock is ‘dead’…now someone drive a stake through his heart to make absolutely sure. Goodbye pumpkin boy! Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way OUT…or maybe just let it. It’s a lot less than you’ve earned in the way of punishment.

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    • Betty is such an inspiration. There are times when I get all whiny about feeling old and tired, and then I think of her. She’s 43 years older than me and still going strong. (Granted, she’s got some extra cash on hand to spackle together her decaying parts, but still.) I really shouldn’t be complaining, not that it will stop me.

      I didn’t know about Sean’s dementia. That’s a personal possibility that haunts me, and because it does, it will probably happen to me. If it does, I just hope the transition is quick. I don’t want to be aware that I’m losing my mental faculties. I just want to skip the interim mess and go right to my own inner world….

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      • If that kind of unhappy scenario happens to me, I hope someone smothers me with a pillow. I cannot stand the idea of not knowing where or who I am, and being probably subjected to some version of Nurse Rachet (or however you spell that name) in some low grade ‘storage’ facility. I’m hoping for death at around 72 years of age, and I guess we’ll see. My tree seems to have a lot of ‘old farts’ that hung around long past what I consider a suitable age, including my maternal auntie who will be 100 in March of 2021 and has lost most of her sense. Gah!! That simply terrifies me…

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  13. I’m not crying… I’m not! Oh hell, yes I am!😭😭 I need tissues and a drink, STAT!

    Let’s hold this moment and pray to the Flying Spaghetti Monster that things don’t get so much uglier between now and Jan 20.🙏💌

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    • That ending got you a little bit, did it? Good. I was sobbing as I typed it. Not that I want anyone to cry, but it just felt right to write it that way…

      But the ugly between now and Jan 20? It’s going to happen, because the Republican party lost all sense of decency years ago. But we will get through it…

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  14. All of us Golden Girls (or white-haired depending on the sunlight) are dancing in our hearts to see that our Baby Boomer legacy might be just a bit better today.
    Kamala, bless you for representing.
    Bless you, too, Brian for keeping it in the road.

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    • The last week has been almost surreal in its emotional impact. On election night, I finally tumbled into bed about 3am, reeling from the stunning reality of so many folks still voting for Trump and the real possibility that he was going to pull it off again. But the tide was already changing by the next morning (those magical and glorious mail-in ballots!). And the rest of the week, though trying and exasperating, it became more and more obvious that the pendulum was swinging back. It was a beautiful affirmation of decency finding the sun again.

      As for Kamala? Well, if things go smoothly, she could be well-positioned to eventually become President. We shall see…

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  15. When I was watching Biden’s speech Saturday evening, the tears were flowing down my face with abandon. God, it feels so good to breath again, to have hope again!
    By the way, the word is håp. 😉

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    • I was a wet mess from Friday night (when Biden gave his wonderful “we’re not quite there yet” speech through Saturday morning (“the networks called it!”) and into Saturday night’s acceptance speech. Even the fireworks had my waterworks going. It was an exhilarating and redemptive 24 hours.

      And thank you for the Norwegian, Rose-Christi. I shall cherish it…

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