Here's to You, Rue

When I was five, I was goofing around in my grandparents' back yard and ran face-first into their chain-link fence (don't ask), shattering my two front teeth. My brand-new permanent two front teeth. After impact, I staggered backwards and noticed something gritty in my mouth, at which point I spit, spraying a fine mist of powdered tooth all over the grass. Yep, those bad boys were busted nearly to the gums. So you know what I did?

I didn't collapse to the ground in a sobbing heap. I didn't even cry. I went in the house, climbed up into the scratchy recliner in front of the family room TV, called to ask Grandma for a glass of milk, and watched The Golden Girls.

Fast-forward to just a few months ago: September 2009. I was in labor with my son Coby, my biggest baby yet at 9 pounds, 2 ounces. Sitting in a sterile hospital bed, wearing a flimsy gown and a grimace - and watching The Golden Girls.

Dorothy, Rose, Blanche, and Sophia have been a part of my life since I was barely old enough to form lasting memories. They've held the number one spot on my list of favorite shows since, like, the eighties. Those Girls have seen me through a lot (see above), and I've gleaned wisdom from all four of them at some point. But my favorite has always been Blanche. Sexy, self-absorbed, shallow Blanche. So when I read today that Rue McClanahan, the actress icon who played her, had died ... I was genuinely sad, y'all. Rue brought such life to the role, like no one else could have, and her face is as familiar to me as my own mother's.

Here's to you, Rue. Thank you for being a friend.

Blanche: I am abhorred.


Sophia: We know what you are, Blanche. I'm glad to finally hear you admit it.

Blanche: Sophia, I said abhorred.

Sophia: Abhorred, a slut, a tramp. It's all the same.