“Roseanne” bar none

I’m a little ashamed to admit this, but I’ve seen every episode of “Roseanne” so often that I could teach a college course.  I mean a brief Continuing Education fun course.  So here goes.  “Roseanne” was a situation comedy created by the star and namesake, comedienne Roseanne Barr.  The premise revolved around her working-class family life with a husband, three kids, and a close sister.  The show ran from 1988 to 1997 on ABC.

When this show first aired, it was a phenomenal success along with the comedy musings of Roseanne Barr herself who sardonically titled her comedy club act “The Domestic Goddess.”  She made fun of her daily life as a wife and mother with lines like ‘We’re starting a natural food kick at our house, so we switched to brown sugar.’  Her comedy was down-home, family-centered though not always G-rated, with lots of die-hard feminism and blue-collar pride.  Her show followed suit.

Because she was a wife and mother and also obese, probably in the 20+ size range, the network suits did not know what to think.  These were the years of other hit comedian shows like “Seinfeld,” “Drew Carey” and Tim Allen’s “Home Improvement.”  Roseanne did not fit the mold.  Not only was she a woman, a loud-mouthed, wise-crackin’ mother, she was not thin and attractive.  And Roseanne cast as her TV husband Dan Conner an actor equally large, John Goodman.  She can laugh about it now, but in those early years, the tabloids, media and late-night comics were unfairly rough on her because of her weight.  The truth was the higher-ups in show biz could not believe a loud funny woman who was as large as her opinions—spewing left-of-center politics and controversial views—would draw tens of millions of viewers and fans.  They lost a bet.

Americans are big and fat

People saw in Dan and Roseanne Conner couples who look like them, like everyone else, or like most people if we’re being honest.  A precious few Americans can keep the weight off for a lifetime, not without some kind of little helper or great self control and maybe metabolism.  So the fans cheered on Roseanne for years.  She even tells of a time when the network execs bought fancy sport cars for two of the male comedians whose shows were in the top ratings, along with Roseanne’s show which was probably number one at the time and beat “The Cosby Show.”  And what did they get fat Roseanne?  A chocolate rose.  Probably a big chocolate rose.  The sexism and body shaming speaks volumes.  No doubt Roseanne would have enjoyed a new sports car, too, as sincere appreciation from the TV execs whose pockets her talent helped line.

What the suits didn’t understand is “Roseanne” episodes dealt with real-life everyday situations with poignancy and heavy doses of humor.  It was blue-collar comedy.  There was nothing like it coming out of L.A.  Throughout the years, the Conners worked fairly hard: Dan, a dry waller who later chased his dream of revamping classic motorcycles until the shop went belly up; Roseanne faithfully working a variety of menial jobs until starting her own diner which stabilized the family income.  Still in the lean times, the Conners played some games about paying bills (like not signing the check) or misusing coupons (erasing the expiration date).  There was the time during an extreme financial low, their electricity was shut off.  Critics didn’t like watching a sit-com about a low middle-class family laughing their way through a mountain of problems.  I guess they figured it was unbelievable.  Let me tell you, it wasn’t—as many of us who’ve had to rough it can attest.

Watching the episodes in reruns, we see Roseanne’s weight shifts but a little.  She is a TV character, from the health-conscious ’90s, who will remain forever overweight, morbidly obese at times as was her husband.  But have you seen Roseanne today?   She did it!  She lost the weight and at no small price.  A rags-to-riches story does not mean instant weight loss and body perfection.  She has been candid about cosmetic surgeries and a weight-loss procedure that seemed to not take effect until years after her famous show ended.  Still, she lost the weight.  ‘Quite a load off, huh,’ the Roseanne character might say enviously.

Shut up!

Critics also objected to the yelling, what seemed to be constant loud and heated arguing back and forth between parents and kids and husband and wife.  Roseanne held her ground and refused to cut the yelling from her TV family, maintaining this was realistic family life whether people acknowledge it or not.  She was perceptive as most comedians are.  In the family unit, members do not perceive how loud or angry they come across to neighbors, friends and onlookers.  Roseanne believed most families yell on occasion if not often.  Prudish folks wouldn’t understand and felt as parents they were in charge and their power never challenged by their children even during adolescence.  Get real, Roseanne would reply.

What made the show tick was the family unit, the three kids growing up with obese parents.  The wealthy and upper-middle class do not relate to a show like “Roseanne.”  That’s because when it comes to families, the poor and low class care about their children because they have nothing else while the middle class and the wealthy care about their children’s education.  Roseanne’s oldest daughter found this out the hard way, again during the Conner family’s lowest economic crisis.  Becky Conner assumed her parents had a college fund for her, but they didn’t.  Through the years, they needed money for housing, utilities, food, clothes, bills, other priorities and emergencies.  So Becky, without graduating high school, simply ran off to marry her boyfriend who had taken a job out of state.  It was a shocking moment in TV history.

Writer’s block

As a fellow writer, I noticed through studying the series how Roseanne’s character occasionally lamented how she had not done anything special with her life or had become someone special, specifically a writer.  She spoke of her high school dream of moving to New York City and writing for Mother Jones, of being a children’s book author someday.  Possessing a creative imagination, she could spin an original bed-time story for her son every night.  As a birthday gift one year, her family turned the basement into an office just for her to write, a quiet place away from the chores of wife and mother.  The next scene, Roseanne is dusting and vacuuming her new office.  She does not have a writer’s drive, the ability to collect and organize thoughts then sit down and punch it out on a typewriter or computer—both devices she never learned to use.

This is where I cannot relate with Roseanne the character.  My middle-class background led me to take every advantage of writing, from tall tales in elementary school to junior high poetry and newspaper staff, continuing on in high school.  A couple of weeks before starting my senior year, I walked into the hometown newspaper office and talked to the editor about a part-time job.  I could type and was on the newspaper staff, I told him.  I would have swept the floor and laid out the paper old school with glue and light boards.  But he needed a high school correspondent and so hired me on the spot, paying me $10 a story.  That experience helped me in college when of my own volition I wrote freelance features for the town newspaper, which led to becoming a news correspondent for the university news service, and later a writing tutor at the college.

But Roseanne Conner never pursued real writing, any writing, writing just to write, like this blog here.  [The real Roseanne of course has a blog.]  All those years, especially when her children were in school, she never thought to drop by the local newspaper (the town had one) and start writing a column or go to a community college (there was one nearby) and take a writing course.  Other TV characters do just that.  But those other TV shows were written and created by middle- and upper-class folks, people with built-in drive and a lot of self confidence.  That is what Roseanne—very overweight, economically and emotionally depressed at some level yet always quick-witted with razor-sharp hilarious perceptions of men and, well, every kind of person—never had: self confidence.  That counters the real Roseanne.  Her TV character never figured out that through pursuing a passion, doors open that lead to opportunities like a fulfilling job, career and success.  The comedian clearly brought success on herself but did not instill her own drive and ambition into her TV show character.  Wonder why?

Now Roseanne Barr has become a Trump supporter, strange given the American TV audience still believing her to be a big ol’ feminist.  But she’s proven once again, like her working-class sit-com—entertaining through deep characterization and blunt bawdy humor for loads of laughs—she has her finger on the pulse of real America.

Bedmates and Politics

Like a nation divided, so is my marriage.   I’m a lifelong liberal Democrat married to an equally dedicated conservative Republican.  But somehow for 15 years, we’ve managed to keep the peace that seems to have eluded our fellow Americans especially at this point in time.  My background is in liberal and perhaps dreamy-eyed causes and insecure professions: newspaper reporter and music teacher, the latter having suffered two job cuts as a choir director in the public schools.  Admittedly, a decade in the public schools has opened my eyes to many a Republican’s perception and stereotypes of minorities and the poor: crime, gangs, drugs, run-down neighborhoods, broken homes, perpetual chaos and drama, overworked parents, tough kids feeling unloved and unwanted, and an overbearing collective sense of despair and more urgently a disbelief in education making any difference.

My husband, also a college graduate, works in an upscale community as a cubicle cog within the tech industry.  A recent cancer battle meant he would have to take on an additional part-time job.   He would describe me as altruistic, the last of the bleeding-heart liberals.  I would refer to him as the consummate Angry White Man.  Yet together we have seen our income not only shrink as taxes increase but our growing medical needs and household bills escalate while salaries remain stagnant.

We know we work hard.  He has taken few vacations.  I completed a master’s degree, hoping that might open doors for a salary increase.  Still we float along together on the ocean of life, holding tightly through storms and managing to laugh along when an unexpected wave slaps us silly.

We’re both 54 and have lived through many presidential elections (my husband voting in all local elections, too).  So during the summer when the political dust cleared and we knew the choice was between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, without saying a word we agreed to disagree.  He put up with my ferocious laughter during “Real Time” while I held my tongue as he listened to right-wing radio and FOX News meme about crooked Hillary.  Time and again, he allowed me to call Trump a lying sack of *()& to his TV face while I accepted my husband (and just about everyone I knew on Facebook) referring to Hillary as, well, the worst kind of woman.

Working where he does, he assumed everyone nationwide shared his views.  I the same.  But we were both equally alarmed and surprised at the election results.  I was seething the next morning, clearly foreseeing the worst recession ever and bracing for another music teacher job loss.  Yet he refrained from an ‘I told you so’ smirk.  He really could not believe his guy won.  Like the rest of the country and world, we were reeling in shock and maybe uncertainty.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day he offered to take us out to eat, a sign between us that we, like the country, will go on.  Over dinner he remarked with a pleasant surprise about my lack of anger or even tears.  I wasn’t crazy for Hillary to begin with.  She’s no Obama.  But I did not believe Trump should or would win the election especially the way he did.  With a sigh of resignation, I told my husband I’ve lived through Republican administrations before.  After all, the America I know elected Reagan twice, Bush I, and then Bush II twice.  Nothing is shocking. Nothing lasts forever.  I think half the country had forgotten that.  It’s our deal.

So what advice could my mixed political marriage offer to help bring together fellow Americans, seemingly divided more emotionally than politically? First I’d say we win some and we lose some; deal with it.  I and millions of people will be watching the new president like a hawk.  A review of American presidents, 99% rich white men, will reveal Trump is nothing unusual and nothing our nation hasn’t dealt with before.

Finally I would say politics is not as important as marriage.  In a country with a high divorce rate, maybe we forget this.  Plus, our democracy allows us to throw away presidents every four years, and that’s how it should be.  The people are in charge, not the president who represents always only about half of us.  Marriage, if at all possible, should not be thrown away after four or eight years, especially over political views or affiliations.

Our divided nation is going to have to find ways to get along, to not let emotions overrule knowledge and truth, to not take American politics so devastatingly serious.  We’re still living in the land of the free and home of the brave.  (A marriage like mine proves it!)  And by the way, humor goes a very long way in bringing people together, including married couples, because laughter is a product of love.