Spoiler Alert!  Contains spoilers for Charlie's Angels, Season 1/Episode 13: Angels On Wheels (but if you've seen any episode of this show; you know how it plays out).

Farrah Fawcett on roller skates.  Kate Jackson: insurance investigator.  Jaclyn Smith, intrepid reporter for Today's Woman.  Yes, a typical episode of Charlie's Angels, Season 1.  "Angels on Wheels" to be exact.  I came in late but here's the 411: The Angels are hired to investigate the death of a roller-derby gal who was somehow involved in an insurance scam.  Pretending to be the late skater's sister, Jill (Farrah) lands a coveted spot on the team.  Meanwhile, Sabrina (Kate Jackson (for some reason wearing an all white outfit with a hood) investigates the insurance investigators, looking for clues.  And Kelly (Jaclyn Smith) stakes out the apartment of the dearly departed derbyist and puts the moves on the studly apartment manager who plays his entire scene shirtless.

It's all a ruse of course.  Kelly's just shining him on, 70's style.  Like that dude, studly and dudely as he is, could ever land Kelly Garrett.  She's out of your league pal.
Actually, I'd pay money to watch those two play patty-cake.  My mind wanders.  The actor is one Steve Sandor, who did tons of roles in all kinds of projects from the late 60's on.  He was usually hired to play intimidating slabs of beef, as he was here.  His hair doesn't match in some of the shots; but who's looking at his hair?
Kelly, despite the interference of Mr. Sandor (playing the roller-girl's apartment manager (he's also in on the scam); hits paydirt.  She finds a baggage-claim ticket for a busline.  Once she charms the metaphorical pants off of Steve (no need for the shirt); she heads to the bus station.  The ticket pays out: a suitcase.  Jackie heads back to her Mustang II and picks the lock.  Bingo!  Stacks and stacks of cash and handful of driver's licenses, all with the same picture.

Now this is where my theory has its genesis.  When Kelly was getting the suitcase, one of the bad guys was busily planting a Napalm(!) bomb on the gas-tank of her car, in broad daylight, no less, in a crowded parking lot.  On her drive to the bus station, she'd had a conversation with Bosley via carphone.  He'd warned her not to go as someone (one of the suspects) had been found in the L.A. river wearing a pair of "cement Florsheims." Kelly insists she can handle it and gets the suitcase.  Later, when she's driving back to the office (with the bomb attached to the car); she gets a call from Charlie.  It has already been established that Charlie is out of town.  He's always out of town.  He informs Kelly that there is a bomb under her car that is going to go off at any moment.  He tells her to find a vacant area and run for cover.  She does this.  When she's running from the vehicle, we (and she) hear Charlie yell, presumably over the car phone "The suitcase angel!  The suitcase!"  She runs back to the car, grabs the suitcase and narrowly escapes as her late model Ford explodes in a thunderous fireball.

Kelly (and the suitcase) survive.  But the question is: How did Charlie know?  How did he know that A) There was a bomb attached to the car?  And B) That Kelly had forgotten the suitcase?  And let's throw in C) How the hell did Kelly hear Charlie through the car-phone when she was already twenty feet away?
I already posted these queries on a Facebook discussion page and was met with a lot of derision and disbelief.  "Oh my God (eye roll); it's just a TV show!" or "The writers can't explain every little thing that happens!"  or even "Charlie had an informant that informed him with information about the bomb."  But there was NO WAY Charlie could've known about the bomb.  Only two of the bad guys were privy to its planting.  So unless Charlie happened to be at the bus station parking lot and witnessed the bomb planting first hand (and we know he wasn't; as far as the script unfolded); only then could this plot hole be explained.  But how did Charlie know Kelly had left the suitcase in the car?  There's no way he could've.  Unless he was hovering above in a helicopter (which he wasn't) or that the car had an interior camera (which it didn't).  So that leaves one conclusion.  Charlie is omnipotent.  Not just psychic; because that wouldn't explain how Kelly could've heard his voice when she was running from the car.  He is all-seeing.  He knows all.  In the world of Charlie's Angels the TV show, he can only be one thing: God.  I will herewith attempt to support my thesis with observations about the show, which, in retrospect seem very strange.

​Let's start with the religious aspects.  Charlie's Angels are not just "angels" as in angelic.  His angels are literal angels.  They even have wings.  Both Jaclyn and Farrah's hairstyles feature feathered side wings, do they not?  Even in this publicity shot, Kate Jackson has the hair "wings"!

​John Bosley (David Doyle), the Angels immediate supervisor, always looked like a Catholic priest to me...

That's him from the opening credits, handing someone a gift.  I always wondered what that gift was (I'm sure it's footage from an episode).  Could this mysterious "gift" have some deeper meaning?  I think it does.  The gold bow makes me think of the Gifts of the Magi.  Could the box contain frankincense and myrrh?  And if does, what does that mean?  Myrrh was symbolic of Jesus' death; a foreshadowing, as it was used for embalming purposes.  Frankincense signals Jesus' deity: it was an offering to God.  A supplication.
The meaning of the gift, is, I think, attached to the meanings of the names of the characters. Jill Monroe, for example.  "Jill" means "child of the god's."  The name Kelly is understood to mean "one who frequents churches."  Duncan means "brown haired man."  "Townsend" is one who lives on the outskirts of the village and "Charles" means "free man." 

So what can we make of all this? 
Let's start with Jill Munroe, the Farrah character.  So, she is the child of the gods.  She has golden hair.  Gold, in the form of the Magi's gift, represented Jesus' Kingship.  So Jill is quite clearly the child of God.  God, in this case is Charlie.  He's a free man who lives as far on the far side of the village as he possibly can.  And he's free to do whatever he wants. 
Sabrina (Kate Jackson) is the "brown haired man."  Her hair is a medium brown that she usually wore in a pageboy style; almost medieval: think Joan of Arc.  She's clearly the "tomboy" of the group, usually wearing pants and hooded garments and tunics; very much like a monk.  Her relationship with Bosley is almost a co-managerial one. We might also note that Bosley's initials are "J.B." as in John the Baptist.  So his relationship with the angels, particularly Sabrina is a mentorship. A fraternity if you will.  Bosley and Sabrina are two prophets who are "baptizing" new angels.  Giving them their wings, as it were.  Sabrina is very much the masculine element of the angels.

​Kelly (Jaclyn Smith) is the frequenter of churches.  Could the Charles Townsend Investigations office be a kind of chapel or church for finding out the truth about sinning people and righting those sins?
Kelly, it seemed to me, was always the Angel who was most in the line of jeopardy.  Why?  I can recall her being shot in the head, shot up with drugs, behind the wheels of out of control cars at least once a month.  Her encounter with Mr. Sandor is a kind of recreation of Theseus and the Minotaur.  He's built like a bull and the apartment complex resembles a maze. He physically threatens her.
​But why Kelly?  Why is Kelly the one always on the verge of death?

Here she is in the line of fire of another golden haired child of God.

Now hear me out on this...I think Kelly is the lone mortal of the Angels.  The other characters at Charles Townsend Investigations are working together (under the direction of Charlie) to claim Kelly as an angel.  That requires her to die; which would explain why she was so often clutches of death adjacent (and who the myrrh in Bosley's present is meant for). But Charlie--though not an angry God--is a fickle one.  He can't make up his mind.  Does he need Kelly on Earth or does he need her in heaven?  Thus; Kelly is in a kind of purgatory.  It's interesting to note that (in my recollection anyways) Kelly was the only Angel who ever had a love interest.  Perhaps even a sex life.  I mean, as "sexy" as the show was supposed to be; you couldn't find a more chaste group of women outside of a nunnery:

When one conjures an image of the actresses in their roles, often the three of them dressed as nuns comes to mind.  Sisters.  Or, in the hooker "cocktail gowns" from the "Angels in Chains" episode.  Sisters again.  Sisterhood was a recurrent theme on Charlie's Angels.  We could view the sorority of the Townsend Investigation ladies as a kind of convent.  I mean, didn't it always seem as though the clientele of the Townsend Agency was almost exclusively women?  It was always a woman searching for her own sister.  Or a mother.  But always women.  And the victims of the crimes (quite often murder) were usually women.  Someone's sister or daughter. 

It's fascinating.  I've been working on this piece for a couple of days.  Initially it wasn't supposed to be a serious examination of the theosophological underpinnings of Charlie's Angels.  It was supposed to be a joke.  But the more I look at it; the less a joke it seems.

Back to Jill (Farrah Fawcett).  She famously left after the first season to pursue "other projects."  Usually that meant: "I want to be a movie star."  How Farrah managed to get out of what I assume was a seven-year contract without burning any bridges is anyone's guess.  But then, she was the golden child, wasn't she?  America's Sweetheart.  Could do no wrong.  So the producers of the show brought in another golden haired child.  And yet another sister.  Jill's "little sister" Kris Munroe (Cheryl Ladd).  It was literally a second coming.  The ratings for the night that Kris appeared were off the charts.  She shortly appeared in a bikini and passed her cheese-cake test with flying colors.  Notice she's wet; having emerged from the surf, a sort of Boticellian Venus (yet another goddess), freshly baptized as the Angel heiress apparent.  Ladd was perhaps the sexiest of the angels; showing more skin then the Angels usually did.  But she passed initiation and settled in for the remainder of the show's five seasons.

Speaking of Botticelli; let's take a look at the main set of Charlie's Angels.  The Townsend Investigations office.  The luxuriously appointed room features a full bar (water to wine, perhaps?), a sitting area and a large desk, ostensibly Bosley's; but he was certainly willing to share it with the Angels.  Again, I can't help but compare the office to a chapel; the desk serving as a kind of altar (it was certainly large enough to be one), with the distaff triumvirate of chairs in front of it.  Then the sitting area, where the congregation would be (or in this case, sisterhood).

The statuary in the room is also rather telling.  Two Asian figures flank the desk, upon which sits a bust of who I think is either Socrates or Plato.  Here's a better look:

The statues appear to be figures of perhaps the Chinese goddess Guanyin.  Guanyin was a Buddhist bodhisattva  linked to compassion.  She is a goddess of mercy.  So, the Angels are also quite literally "angels of mercy."  Kelly certainly was.  She was always taking people under her wing in a personal way that the other Angels never seemed to do.
Socrates (who seems to magically appear and disappear from Bosley's desk at will) was of course the great Greek philosopher who advocated caring for one's soul.  The soul at stake here, of course, is Kelly's.

So did the creators and writers of Charlie's Angels purposely layer in these religious elements?  I doubt it.  I do think, however, that in writing a show about a group of women deemed "Angels" who have a disembodied boss who seems to know all; the show couldn't help but absorb these elements.  It seems to me that the collective consciousness about God and religiosity seeped into the show.

Which brings us to the final episode of the series.  One I didn't see when it was originally aired (I liked the show enough; but it wasn't like it was "must see" TV for me).  In fact, I wasn't even aware of the subject matter of this particular episode until I started researching this article.  And I gotta say, it kind of supports everything I've been postulating (and remember, this was all in jest...at first).  The title of the episode is "Let Our Angel Live."

Once again, Kelly is put in harms way.  She gets shot in the head at point blank range by the bad guy.  This was the second time she'd been shot in the head.  She's  rushed to the hospital where she hovers between life and death.  Bosley, Kris and Julie (Tanya Roberts) hold a vigil in the hospital waiting room and reminisce about Kelly and some of her experiences as an Angel.  It's touch and go.  The surgeons give her only a fifty-fifty chance.  The vigil moves to the hospital chapel where the trio are seen praying in a rather extended sequence.

​Did the producers and writers of the show know that this was going to be the last episode?  Most shows back then weren't given the luxury of a "finale."  They simply were cancelled or not renewed.

​But this episode seems to be some kind of wrap up; especially in regards to Kelly's story arch.  In the last moments of the episode, Bosley, Kris and Julie are informed (in the chapel) that Kelly is going to make it and that she's asking for them.  Two of the surgeons are accompanied by a third man, in green scrubs, who is wearing a surgical mask.  Zoom in for close-up on Bosley who has a look of recognition. Kris tells the doctors that they are "most gratefully excused" (which seems a very strange thing to say--excused from what?  Their responsibility?  That it's now in divine hands?) The three investigators go to Kelly in her room.  She is awake and asks them if  they saw Charlie.  She tells them she saw him; but it was all "fuzzy."  Bosley explains that Charlie was in the operating room the whole time and that he had seen him in the chapel and that he was "in greens."  Then we see a superimposition of the mysterious man in greens right over Kelly's head, like a soul rising from a body...

So, ultimately, what happens to Kelly?  Does Charlie let her live, which seems to be what happens?  Or, has Kelly finally crossed over to the true divine and she's now an actual angel?  Charlie is "in greens."  Green is symbolic of immortality.  I think, in viewing this through the prism of my "theory," Kelly is no longer mortal.  Charlie/God has finally decided to bring Kelly to the heavenly realm, which explains his presence in the operating room and then the final shot.
Or not.
The question remains: was all of this intended on the part of the people who created the show?  Again, I doubt it.  But if the answer to that is "yes"; then we can only see the entire enterprise of Charlie's Angels as some kind of poetic genius.  What else could explain its longevity?  What else could explain its resonance in popular culture?  Why are we still talking today about this dumb little show that invented "jiggle TV"?  Why does this show that's almost a half century old still work?  It really shouldn't.  It wasn't that good.  And yet, here it remains.
Charlie's Angels: a religious experience?*
Who knew. 

*The other night I caught an early episode of the show.  Again, Kelly was in the line of fire.  This time a sniper.  Later, she has a conversation with a nun.  Kelly, it turns out, was an orphan, raised by the nuns.  Curiouser and curiouser!

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Or should I say; "why I watch one soap opera"?  Yes, I should clarify that.  That soap opera would be General Hospital.  So don't touch that dial!  Drop that bottle of Joy; get your fuzzy slippers and bon-bons, 'cuz this might go on for a while.  Just like the "Love In the Afternoon" line-up on ABC right around 1980!

​The reason I watch General Hospital isn't because I'm particularly enamored of the show (although, I do love it; don't get me wrong);  it's because I can't watch One Life To Live, which was my very favorite soap.  Followed by "GH" and then All My Children a close third.  My viewing of soaps over the years has been prone to life circumstances and technology; but before I get into that, let's go back.  Back to the 1970's.  1977 to be specific.  This may have been the year when soaps had reached some kind of peak.  That peak being the number of them on the airwaves.  Fourteen of them that year!  But that was not the year that I started watching.  My mother had dabbled in the daytime drama world; but with no kind of real "brand loyalty" until NBC's The Doctors.  That would be on when we came home from school.  The show had a great villainess.  None other than Kathleen Turner:

She played a character named "Nola" and when she later became a movie star; it was no surprise to me.  That voice: such a throwback.  It was that voice, mostly I think, that made her a star.  In fact, a lot of huge stars have come out of the soap world.
So, The Doctors piqued my interest in soaps.  They'd already gotten my attention as a child, with their artful openings which usually featured incredible music.  I remember before The Doctors, my mother went through a Days of Our Lives phase.  It had a couple on it they were kind of the poor man's Steve and Eydie Lawrence.

Mom would always make disparaging comments whenever they sang (maybe it was just him that sang).  She'd sigh in exasperation while muttering "Oh shut up!" or "So corny!"  I think I got my sense of sarcasm from my Mom.  I remember a Days story-line from when I was about six years old, that featured an older woman putting poison in someone's tea.  I remember it scared the crap out of me; because that actress could've been my grandmother.

Soaps have always embraced music and singing.  I always loved the music from the opening of Guiding Light.  I didn't watch it; but if I happened upon the opening I would listen to the music while watching those mysterious tree branches dappling said light:

That beautiful, dreamy music brings me right back to being home from school, sick, and drinking orange soda and Nyquil.  I wish I had watched The Guiding Light though.  One day, out of the blue, my favorite band, The B-52's were on the show.  I didn't find out about it 'til afterwards; but thanks to the beauty of the internet, we can all see it!  They sang two songs: Private Idaho and the super-obscure Throw That Beat in the Garbage Can.  ​The latter wasn't even a single.  It features a sax solo which Cindy (who didn't play sax) went to town on!

Now how and why this combination came together is anyone's guess.  I think Fred Schneider might've been a Guiding Light watcher.  He mentions the character "Reva" in at least one of their songs.  She was played by Kim Zimmer who won four Emmy awards and was known for being able to supply copious amounts of tears on demand.

So, what really got me started on soaps was my sister Kate.  Like most young teenage girls, she went through a soap opera phase and she brought me along with her.  Our go to soap was General Hospital, mostly because it came on at three o'clock, so you could watch it from start to finish after school while you had a snack.  We had snack phases too.  Kate went through an ice cream sundae phase and I was into Chun King Mini-egg rolls for most of 1978 and 1979.  The trick was submerging them in cooking oil and preparing in a toaster oven.  The toaster oven was key.  Here's an ad for the tasty little rolls.  It's not exactly politically correct; but remember, this wasn't all that long ago.  And then Chung King tried to position their products as health food.  "Try Chun King for your beautiful body!"

Luckily, a fourteen year old boy in the late 70's could eat as many mini egg-rolls as he wanted without gaining an ounce.  "Remember when it was our God-given right to be thin?"  That is a quote from my friend Scott Coblio.  He is a most profound and amusing person.  I keep telling him to write books; mostly because I want to read them.

So, I started watching GH in probably late 1978.  I came in on the tail end of a storyline that involved Laura Webber.  She had killed some guy named David who was much older than her, who she'd been having an affair with.  Her mother, Lesley, took the rap.  When that died down, Laura (played by the then 17 year-old Genie Francis (and amazingly talented) married Scotty Baldwin (the delightful Kin Shriner) and started working at The Campus Disco.  That's where she met Luke Spencer (Tony Geary) and the rest is history.  Here's a typical GH dramaturgy from that period:

How and why the "Luke and Laura" phenomenon exploded is something of a mystery.  But I think it was a culmination of kids like my sister and me who were home from school watching; the apex of daytime drama in the public imagination; incredible chemistry between two actors; and a sprinkle of magic: and WHAM!  Pop culture phenomenon.  Actually, by the time they were getting married and that whole "Luke and Laura's Wedding" thing; I was already kind of tuning out. The peak of the Luke and Laura thing, was, for me, when they went on their first adventure outside of Port Charles. It went on during the summer of 1980 and it was delightful.  However, as delightful as it was,  I was more concerned with what was going on in Llanview, Pennsylvania.  That's where Dorian Lord lived.  Dorian Lord was the greatest lady-rich-bitch-diva in the history of TV.  She could've eaten Alexis Carrington for breakfast.  And she was played by the incomparable Robin Strasser.  When she went at it with "good girl" Victoria (Erika Slezak); you were in for some great television!

Perhaps the most legendary moment, acting/drama-wise in all of Soapdom was the performance by Judith Light on OLTL in 1979.  She played a character named Karen Wolek.  Now my storyline accuracy may be a little faulty but my memory of it was that Karen was married to an All-American doctor named Larry.  Either she'd been a prostitute in her past or she was kind of doing it on the side out of boredom and being blackmailed by her hot brother-in-law (who had the hots for her).  Someone ended up dead and at the murder trial, Karen was brought to the stand and grilled about her past.  She breaks down on the stand and basically has a nervous breakdown.  I would put a clip up; but taken out of context, the performance seems a little over the top.  But this was the culmination of a slow-burn performance over months; so when the viewers watched it (myself included); the catharsis was literally shattering.  That's how good she was.  People still talk about it.  When she turned up on Who's the Boss? as the somewhat prosaic "Angela" I had to cut her some slack.  She probably would've really gone over the edge if she'd continued to play Karen. 

Of course, All My Children was a favorite during the summer, as it came on at 1pm and if you were at school you couldn't watch it.  And the major draw on that show was Erica Kane and her endless string of gorgeous paramours.  One in particular, Tom Cudahy, was a dim-witted, studly jock who Erica had tied around her finger.  It was a blast watching Erica manipulate men.  I daresay it was empowering.

​He's really acting his heart out here.  His name is Richard Shoberg.  I think he may be overacting a bit; but who could blame him?  He usually wandered through the show as though he had a concussion; but he was a football player, so maybe it was a conscious choice.  In a way, this was his big scene.  The birth control pills was the end of his marriage to Erica.  She moved on to her next "true love" with nary a backward glance.  The following promo features another favorite soap: The Edge of Night.  It came on at 4pm and was the last show in ABC's line-up:

The Edge of Night had, hands down, the best opening of any soap (and the biggest assortment of mustaches):

The Edge of Night was a rare and special gem for me.  Back in the day, the Boston ABC affiliate didn't air The Edge of Night.  It was a half-hour show in a really weird time-slot; so they aired Donahue or some such show.  The ABC station out of New Hampshire did air it though.  The problem was, the signal barely, if ever reached the house.  If you put on channel 8 or whatever it was, you had to constantly adjust the rabbit ears (after having wrapped them in Reynold's wrap tin-foil) and stand in front of the television set to maybe catch bits and pieces of scenes.  It was frustrating. I actually asked my parents if we could move to New Hampshire so I could watch the show unimpeded. And then the show was cancelled.  I remember one of the craziest soap storylines from that show.  There was a serial killler puppet, knocking off citizens of Monticello.  Yes, an actual puppet:

The Edge of Night had a great "bad girl" star in its last years in the form of "Raven."  She was played by an actress named Sharon Gabet.  

She bore a strong resemblance to Kathleen Turner.  And I think she had just as much star power.  And she was just on the brink of breaking through to "the next level" (whatever that is); but then, the The Edge of Night and Raven and Sharon disappeared.  The Edge of Night should be resurrected as a night-time drama.  If only for its title alone.  The theme song actually had lyrics.  A complete song that would sometimes play at the end when the show would run credits in their entirety. It was pretty awesome. Here you go:

The ABC soaps were always my "go to."  I had a friend who was into The Young and the Restless, so I watched that for a little bit in the mid-80's; but there was something about the CBS soaps that I didn't like.  To this day they still turn me off.  I think it's because the CBS soaps (particularly the ones produced by William J. Bell) seemed to take place in some kind of vacuum.  It was like the only people that populated the world of Genoa City were the actors playing the citizens of Genoa City.  There were like never any extras in scenes set in places like restaurants.  It kind of creeped me out.  And there was no ambient sound.  It makes a difference (to me at least).  And the acting, no matter how good, was always stilted by the "house style" of those shows.  Know what I mean?
So, my most very favorite movie is Tootsie.  Its story revolves around a fictional soap opera called Southwest General.  Now, is it because of the soap opera element that Tootsie is my favorite movie?  No.  Not entirely.  Tootsie is my favorite movie because, as Pauline Kael said, it's a "love letter to actors."

And also because it's just a great movie that reveals something new every time you watch it (and I've watched it a lot!).
But the best thing about Tootsie (besides its nearly perfect script) is that it respects actors and the soap opera genre.  Soaps are on five days a week.  That's a lot of hours.  And a lot of it is filler.  Just two people talking to one another.  For an actor, to make pedestrian conversations interesting, is the true test of their talent. 
Why do I watch General Hospital today?  Well, one reason is friendship.  Friendship you ask?  But Chris: they're fictional characters.  They don't really exist, you might say.  And I might disagree with you.  Fictional characters can be as real as any real person.  Mr. Darcy is 207 years old.  But people still get hot and bothered over him.  Batman is 82 but he's still going strong.
Yes, I feel like the people who live in Port Charles are my friends.  I live in a rather isolated area and my best friends are all hundreds/thousands of miles away from me.  But I can hang out with Laura Webber Baldwin Spencer Cassadine Collins five days a week for an hour.  And I've known her since I was a kid.  And she was a kid!
Also, I enjoy watching other actors work.  There's an actor on GH who I particularly enjoy.  His name is Roger Howarth.  He was playing a character named "Franco."  Franco was an artist who was also a deranged, psychotic serial killer.  But then, he stopped killing and tried to be nice.  His bad behavior was all because of a brain tumor, you see.  Once the tumor was removed, he was the nicest guy on Earth.  But then he died.  When Franco died, Roger Howarth went away.  But now he's back, looking exactly like Franco, only playing an entirely different character.  And nobody has yet to remark on his astounding resemblance to the late Franco.  But that's all just soap opera silliness.  What I like about Howarth is his dry sense of humor (and you know that's the actor; not the character so much).  I also admire his chameleonic experiments with his look.  What I most enjoy is watching him thrust and parry with his castmates.  He's a good actor and he knows it; and you can almost see his gears clicking when he's working with someone who's not quite at his level (not that the actors in this scene are in that category).  He comes in at the 2:05 mark.

I think it's really a shame that major networks massacred the majority of soaps about ten years ago.  I'm sure for many viewers it was a kind of murder.  I'm not saying we need fourteen soaps back on the airwaves; but did ABC really need to kill One Life to Live and All My Children with such a blood-letting?  These were important shows in many ways. Maybe they could've scaled back production to two or three days a week, for a half hour.  Destroying them was not the answer.  Maybe sometimes we should put pleasure above business.
But just think about all those soaps back in 1977.  It was really a sub-industry of the television industry.  Think of all the work it generated for not only actors; but writers and artists and all the behind the scenes people.  Now what do the networks offer us during the day?  Endless talking heads, a couple of lame game shows and two annoying coffee klatches that I would rather chew glass than have to listen to.  But not really any worse than what they're offering at night: a bunch of lame game shows, people murdering one another and people investigating it; and remakes of shows that weren't all that great to begin with.
It's no wonder the networks are dying.  They're not only not thinking outside the box; they're climbing into it and sealing themselves in.
Remember when Snoop did a version of the One Life To Live theme?  Well, here it is.

And remember when One Life To Live tried to have Two Lives To Live?  It didn't work.  I guess we really do only have one life to live.
I was going to talk about another soap, Passions, which I was into for a little while; but I'll save that for another blog.
Ciao for now.
​CR

Hhhheeeyyy by Matthew McConaughey

With his new line of fragrance products, Matthew brings his essence to you.  Starting with his signature unisex fragrance, Hhhheeeyyy:

Hhhheeeyyy is a boldy subtle, subtly bold blend of fragrance notes that respond to human hormones.  When it interacts with testosterone; watch out!  You may not be able to control the effect it has on the opposite sex!  Or the same sex.  Or even the animal kingdom!*  When Hhhheeeyyy encounters estrogen it's every man and every woman for him/her self!**  
Hhhheeeyyy is an artisanal blend of fragrance notes and pheremones blended in France, where they don't bathe or wear deodorant; and Matt likes that!  He oversaw the entire process of creating Hhhheeeyyy from its unique notes to its sweaty bottle (yes, the bottle sweats (see instruction booklet).***  But please do not apply Hhhheeeyyy to the underarm area unless you can handle the ultimate effects of Hhhheeeyyy****

Every bottle of Hhhheeeyyy contains an actual full milliliter of Matthew's perspiration, guaranteed.##
​Hhhheeeyyy starts with topnotes of seaspray, desert dust and Texas toast.  Then Hhhheeeyyy moves into midnotes of cherry blossom, beaver musk and patchouli.  When it settles into into its basenotes of diaphoresis, sativa rosin, cinnamon Dentyne, McConaughascent(TM/Patent Pending) and Lincoln Backseat Leather you'll know you've arrived.  Arrived at that special place that words simply can't describe: McConaughavannah.

Hhhheeeyyy is available in a line of home fragrance products.  If you purchase the 50 ounce bottle of Hhhheeeyyy you will receive as Matthew's gift, a beautiful candle that will infuse your rooms with the indescribable odiferousness of Matthew.

The above product, although not officially from the Hhhheeeyyy line is available on Etsy.


​*The makers of Hhhheeeyyy and Mr. McConaughey are not responsible for shark, dik-dik or orangutan attack.  Hhhheeeyyy may induce hyperactivity in hamsters.
​**also: any pronoun e.g.: watakushi
***Instruction book sold separately for legal reasons.
****Hhhheeeyyy may cause permanent underarm hair loss.  Opposite results may also occur; sometimes simultaneously.  Discontinuing use of Hhhheeeyyy, once started, is not recommended. Starting use of Hhhheeeyyy requires online tutorial and  signature.*****
*****(Don't you hate asterisks that have no corresponding note?)
##1 ml. per oz.  Your mileage may vary.

Note: This is a parody.  Actually, I think I would enjoy sniffing Mr. McConaughey; if only to see what all the fuss is about.  CR

I was invited backstage with the Brady family for the reboot of their variety show: The New Brady Family Shin-Dig! which is going to be streaming on a device near you very shortly.  I sat down with the gang between takes to talk about wine, women, men and songs.  And sequins and buttons and bows and the whole shebang!
Chris Reidy:  Hi Brady's!
Brady's: Hi Chris!!!
CR: You all look fantastic!  It's like none of you have aged since 1977!
Carol Brady: Oh Chris, you scamp!  It is 1977!
CR: Oh.  Sure.  Uhh, it sure looks like it...
Mike Brady:  What brings you to our town?
CR: I was visiting some friends.  Every now and then I miss L.A.
MB: Who's "Ellay"?
CR: Pardon?
MB: Chris has a girlfriend!
CR: Sure.  Whatever. What town do you live in?  It's never mentioned on your show...
Greg Brady: We live in the neighborhood, silly.
CR: I'm a little confused.  Tell me Florence, what did it feel like to be America's Mom?
(Everyone looks around confused)
Cindy Brady: Who's Florence?  Another girlfriend?
(At this point, Scott Rubin, producer of The New Brady Family Shin-Dig! rushes in and throws a bagel with limburger at my head, narrowly missing me).
Scott Rubin: (raising a remote control and hitting a button; the Brady's freeze (in fear, I assume): You frickin' moron!  One more question and I woulda have to reset their algorithms! 
CR: Who's Al Gorithem? (rimshot).
SR: You're fired.  Get out!
CR: You can't fire me.  I was invited by the Krofft family.
SR: I don't care if you were invited by frickin' Witchiepoo...
CR: Look Mr. Rubin, I'm doing this interview whether you like it or not; so why don't you just take a deep breath and we can have a nice, adult conversation.
SR: (takes a foot-long Slim Jim out of his jacket pocket and takes a bite)  I will sue your ass if you screw this up for me.
CR: (glancing at the Brady's, who are still frozen in place.  Then, in a stage whisper): Why are they not moving...?
SR: (Does a Three Stooges group slap to the Brady's.  No reaction):  They're holograms you dunce!
CR: Holograms?
SR: I just said that.
CR: You mean they're Artificial Intelligence?
SR: Well, you got the first part right.  Didn't you wonder why you were talking to the late Robert Reed and the late Florence Henderson?
CR:  Oh yeah!
(An assistant tip-toes in and taps Mr. Rubin on the shoulder):
Assistant: Oh, ah, Mr. Rubin.  I think they're towing your Rolls Royce...
SR: (Lashing out with the Slim Jim)  I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE CAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Assistant: But the L.A.P.D. forced me to leave the vehicle at gunpoint...
SR: So?
Assistant: Well, you were blocking a major artery!
SR: (Running out) YOU'RE FRIGGIN' FIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CR: (Picking up remote control): I wonder what this button does? (pushes button).

CR: Well, that was something.
Assistant: Actually, I programmed the number.
CR: It's some kind of genius.  You know, you look a lot like the "Jan" hologram...​
Assistant: That's the fake Jan!  I am the real Jan!!! (removes Geri Reischl mask).
CR: Eve Plumb!  But why?
Eve Plumb: Geri! Geri! Geri!  That's all I ever hear.  Somehow the fake Jan is more popular than the real Jan; which is me, Jan--err--Eve Plumb!
CR: I'm a little confused...
EP: You're confused?  Try being me for a day!
CR: Sure Jan.  I mean Eve.  It seems like you can't make up your mind about being Jan Brady.  I mean, one minute you're turning the role down and the next minute you're orchestrating whatever this is...and weren't you in the Baby Secret commercial?  What was that about?

EP: I don't want to talk about it...
CR: And then you played a teen-age hooker in that TV movie, Dawn...
ER: She was a runaway!
CR: Sure Eve.  And then you played Beth March in a TV version of Little Women along side Laurie Partridge...

EP: All right!  What do you want me to say?  I've had an erratic career!!!
CR: You know, a lot of us thought that Jan was the only sane person in that house.  No wonder you became a runaway.
EP: Really?
CR: Really.  But Eve; this has got to go.  It's got to stop.  We can't turn these holograms into show business slaves.  We dont' have the right!
EP: Are you advocating for the rights of Artificial Intelligence that has become sentient; like in that new 20th movie, Free Guy?
CR:  I suppose so.  And might I just say that I find it the height of irony that Disney is using plot-lines involving intellectual property theft?  With a straight face? 
EP: It's 20th studios...
CR: Sure Jan.  But anyway, since you've been fired and you're so rebellious; how about reprogramming these Bradygrams to follow Mr. Rubin wherever he goes, whatever he does and serenade him with Brady hits like: "Good Time Music" and classics like, "Baby Face"?
EP:  I can do that.  I got my degree from ITT technical college.  (She pulls out a laptop and gets to work.  Soon, the Brady holograms come to life and start boogie-ing (boogeying?).
Marcia Brady:  This is so groovy!
Peter Brady:  It's time to change!
Bobby Brady: We've got to rearrange!
(At this point, Mr. Rubin returns)
SR:  WHAT THE FREAK IS GOING ON?  WHY AREN'T THESE CLODS REHEARSING?  THEY'RE FIRED!
The Bradys: You can't fire us!  We quit! (They circle him and start singing "Hooray For Hollywood").
SR:  AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (He runs from the theater as the Brady's give chase, singing at the top of their lungs).
CR: Well, all's well that ends well!
EP: Sure Chris.
(Sid and Marty Krofft wander out from backstage, carrying the H.R. Pufnstuf costume).
Sid Krofft: Well Eve, since you killed our Brady show you better put this on.  We got a curtain going up tonight.
EP:  The show must go on!
CR: Sure Jan.
(Sound of deflating trumpet).

• Music 4: comical trombone outro

And, scene.

Note: Don't ask me.

When I was a kid, the only things to watch on TV on Saturday nights were The Love Boat and Fantasy Island both of which were just placeholders until Saturday Night Live came on.  When you're like, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen you're kind of stuck in the house on Saturday nights.  You're really too young to go out at night; but you're too old to want to do your homework; so it's just you and Julie the Cruise director and Mr. Roarke and Tattoo.  I spent a lot of hours on the high seas and tropical islands with these people.  How many nights did I watch people like Adrienne Barbeau and Audrey and Judy Landers and Orson Bean and Ken Berry live out their rather lackluster fantasies (usually drippy love stories) on the Fox backlot?  The answer: a lot.  You didn't really watch those shows because you wanted to.  You watched them because they were there.  Still, I have a certain fondness for both shows.  Particularly Fantasy Island because at least it got you thinking on some level.  Like, just how much does a vacation package on Fantasy Island cost?  How can a librarian from Sheboygan afford not just a tropical vacation; but one that apparently would require hundreds of thousands of dollars in special effects?

So, when I saw the ads for the new "reboot" of Fantasy Island on Fox and there was absolutely nothing else on; I decided to give it a chance.  I must say, I was pleasantly surprised.  Perhaps even a tad shocked that it was as good as it was.

So, Mr. Roarke is now a Ms. Roarke.  Apparently she's his great niece or something?  She's played by Roselyn Sanchez who I'd never heard of before this.  She bares a striking resemblance to Sandra Bullock: cosmetically, vocally and physically.  And that's a good thing.  If I was a producer I'd be running around trying to find a project where Roselyn and Sandra could play sisters.  Or identical cousins.  Or good cousin/evil cousin.  Yeah, so, they're both spies.  Roselyn works for the CIA and Sandra is her doppelganger in the KGB.  It's set during the Cuban missile crisis, so they both get to wear killer early 60's outfits.  They're both having affairs with the Kennedy brothers.  Oooh, I love this!  One of them is assigned to assassinate Jackie and the other, Marilyn.  So, they both get to play multiple parts!  And then--
But I'm getting off track.
So, anyways; Ms. Roarke seems to have even less staff than Ricardo Montalban did.  I mean, didn't you always wonder about things like: how exactly does one order room service during their "fantasy"?  Where is the ice machine?  How do you get extra towels?  Ms. Sanchez seems unconcerned with these trivialities.  The island takes care of things.  The writers just brush it off.  But what the new writers are doing is introducing and playing with the more mystical trappings of the show.  They've sort of introduced a decidedly Twilight-Zoney element that the show's first incarnation almost never used.  The "lessons" the guest receive through their visits are played up even more.  The pilot's vignette about a woman who eats to cover feelings is a flat-out morality play. 
The supporting actors were all excellent.  Particularly Bellamy Young as the food obsessed woman and the actress playing Tattoo.  The show actually made me teary-eyed at least four times.  This almost never happens to me with standard issue network programming.  I must be getting soft in my old age.  A modern version of Fantasy Island is making me cry?  The world really has turned upside-down.
So, I really liked the show; maybe even loved it.  Which means FOX will cancel it, I'm sure, within a few months.  But I hope they don't.  They could do all kinds of interesting story telling with this; and if the pilot is any indication; they are willing to go there.  I hope they do.

A general discussion about writing, acting and creativity in general; and things in general, generally.

Chris Reidy: Andy, why don't you go first?
Andy Warhol Robot:  I don't know where the artificial stops and the real starts.
CR: Andy, I would think that statement would go doubly, now that you are a robot.  But I know what you're saying.  I think in the past few years we all feel that way; especially those of us living in America at this particular time.  We all went down to Wonderland and we're only just now starting to climb back out.  I'm scared that if we fall down there again; we won't be able to escape.
AWR: Does not compute.
CR: Well, I think around 2020 we encountered a perfect storm of technology, conspiracy, manipulation--you name it--and then layered a pandemic on top of that. Doublethink.  Double-plus-doublethink!  It was like the White House was using 1984 as a game plan. In a way though; I think the pandemic woke a lot of us up.  It brought us back to a kind of reality.  I mean, try as you might, it's kind of hard to claim "fake virus."
AWR: Ondine's been in the bathroom for two weeks.
CR: Good thing you don't have bodily functions.  Joel?
Joel Craig: What would most people be surprised to know about you and why?
CR: I'm a frustrated jock.  Sagittarians are natural athletes; but I wasn't, right out of the gate.  If we'd had a physical education system in the 70's that actually taught kids how to play athletics; who knows what games I might've excelled at?  I think I'd be an excellent golfer.  Joe?
Joe Hayes:  When did you know you wanted to be a writer?
CR: Maybe around fifth grade?  I remember back in elementary school, my best friend David and I created a little book.  I guess it was sort of a graphic novel; although it wasn't a novel.  It was a book about future inventions; like, space-age cars and so forth.  Very Jetson's.  I remember the car could fly and had all these bubble compartments for extra passengers.  It wasn't really writing; but it was a book.  Our teacher loved it so much she mimeographed(!) copies for the entire class.  It was a hit with the playground set!  I think that's when I realized that I wanted to be involved in printed entertainment/entertainment in general.
AWR: Everything's plastic, but I love plastic.  I want to be plastic.
CR:  Well, now you are Andy.  I'm a bit of plastophobe myself.  That is, when it comes to polymers.  But, as you reach a certain age; especially in the entertainment industry--as I'm sure you know--you start to wonder about the other plastic; as in surgery.  You know, we upkeep our houses and our cars and our clothes; why not our faces?  That being said, I think a man should never have any work done on his eyes.  It never looks right.  However, under the chin and the neck is fair game.  Maybe a little forehead Botox.  But that's it.
JC:  Do you have a favorite quote?
CR:  I do.  "Make it work for you."  This quote is from a man whose name is lost to the mists of time.  Around 1998 I had returned to the family manse and secured a job at the Lord and Taylor store in Boston.  I was being trained by this really cool gentleman. He was tall and lanky.  He reminded me of the actor Tim Reid. He was showing me how to work the cash register and carry out the various transactions.  Seeing that I was becoming overwhelmed, he stopped me.  He explained that the machine was so advanced that you could enact numerous transactions in several different ways and arrive at the same result. "The thing is," he said, "is to make it work for you."  This has become my philosophy.
AWR: 00010011100011101010101010101011110010000111010101010.
CR: Exactly!
JH: (When I first asked Joe to supply me with some questions for an interview; he thought I meant "job interview," so...)  What do you think you can bring to our company?
CR:  Well, if you're thinking dessert I could make a killer lemon meringue pie.  Otherwise, you could put me in charge of chips and dips.
JH: Where do you see yourself in five years?
CR:  You know, to be frank, I think that is the dumbest question in the history of questions.  It's impossible to answer, as posed.  Now, if it were: Where do you imagine yourself in five years or Where do you fantasize yourself in five years...I'm the Executive Producer on the TV series version of my novel.  I have final say and complete casting and script approval; but I'm not the showrunner so I don't have to be on the set every day.  The show is such a hit that we can film it in Hawaii (which is where I live most of the year) even though it's set in Boston.  It makes the outdoor winter scenes a bitch; but it's totally worth it.

AWR:  Beauty is a sign of intelligence.
CR:  Hmmmm.  I would agree with you Andy if you were talking about a beautiful mind.  You know, the way someone thinks.  But if you mean physical beauty, like say, Catherine Deneuve--and I'm sure she's pretty intelligent; I mean she can speak French--but I'd have to disagree with you.  I mean, there are a lot of pretty people out there who, let's say, coasted through school?  Now, I think an appreciation for beauty, in all its forms, is definitely a sign of intelligence.
JC:  You've written a second novel.  Why did you start writing it?
CR:  Well, it's interesting.  I hadn't really planned on writing a sequel to 83 in the Shade.  I thought it was quite self-contained and I felt I'd accomplished what I set out to with it.  But then, the characters simply wouldn't leave my brain.  There were some things that I wanted to get to in the first book but since it was already dense enough, I had to leave them out.  I thought Michael McNamara's high school experience would be interesting too.  And since he was on the verge of his senior year, it seemed logical.  Talk about an eventful year in a person's life!  I sat down and as soon as I knocked out a few sentences, it just started flowing.  It really wrote itself.  And in a quarter of the time the first book took.  It's called 84 on the Floor.  There isn't much meaning in the title, other than that it's set in 1984 and Michael likes to dance.  I suppose the next one will be Stayin' Alive in 85 or something like that.  Right now I'm sitting on 84 on the Floor.  I don't want to self-publish it, although I probably will end up having to do that.  But I want a literary agent and publishing house and all that; because frankly, I think I need whatever "protection" that might afford; because to be franker still, I think my work is being "appropriated" right, left and below the belt.
AWR: Who's Frank?
CR: Frank Sinatra, Andy.
JH: When you're writing a book, does it come together as you're writing it; or does it come together in your head and then you must write it?
CR: Well, for me it's both. But in the reverse order.  So, there's an overall idea first.  For example, with 84 on the Floor, the idea was to follow Michael through his senior year of high school, limiting it to that time-frame.  So, then you start thinking: well, what happens during his senior year?  For me, it was that Michael needed to get some new school threads, which was a great way to reintroduce everyone from the first book, because a lot of them would be involved in that undertaking. So, you start writing that with a general idea of "goes to the mall to get clothes."  So, as that thread begins to unfold, that's when the fun starts, because me, as the writer, doesn't know exactly how that's going to play out.  So I get to go along on the shopping trip too.  So, then, what's the next thing?  Well, the first day of school.  And the first day of school is an assembly: and then you introduce the characters from the school story-line; and then that starts to unspool in real time (well, in your mind) and I don't know where it's going to go; but then I do and I can direct things...so that's kind of my process.  But the beauty of it is, for me, that because it's not all thought out beforehand; I get to have as much fun as the reader.

CR: (I will also be asking some questions of myself...to myself?): Did you know Poe liked cats?
CR: No, but I just learned he had one cat who would sit on his shoulder while he wrote.  Also, doesn't that illustration of Poe look a lot like Peter Sellers?
CR: It's uncanny!
CR: Poe's work is really creepy.  What's that one about the guy who's obsessed with his girlfriend's teeth?
CR: "Berenice."  Remind me not to name anyone (or any cat) "Berenice."
CR: Andy, do you remember that time we met?
AWR: ERROR 404 - NOT FOUND
CR: Let me refresh your memory (holds down CTRL/ALT/DELETE) It was at the Boston Public Library and you were in the lobby, standing behind a folding table as a throng of enthusiastic college kids thrust things at you to sign.  A lot of Campbell's soup cans.  In fact, I remember there were a couple of kids who were on the floor above lowering cans down on strings!  It was the late 80's, right before you went to the big canvas in the sky.
AWR: I always thought I'd like my own tombstone to be blank.  Well, actually, I'd like it to say "figment."
CR: Well, as a robot, you're definitely a figment of something.
JH: To what do you attribute your success as a writer?
CR: Well, I think we need to qualify the word "success."  I mean, if you measure success by books sold or readers, I wouldn't even chart.  I'm still pretty much an unknown quantity.  But if you mean successfully completing a book; I guess I'd have to chalk that up to determination.  Perseverance.  It's a hard thing to write a book.  A lot of people will subtly try to persuade you out of doing it.  Why?  Because everyone on some level thinks they can write a book.  I mean, we all use words, right?  Everyone is sitting on that Great Fill In the Blank Novel.  But so few people sit down and do it.  And if you do sit down and do it: even if you didn't do such a great job; people get jealous/envious/annoyed.  Not everyone.  For example, my mother. 
I think there's a lot of "who do you think you are that you could write a book that anyone would want to read?"  I certainly had that mindset for myself.  It's a drawback of the competitive nature of human beings.  That being said: if you're reading this and you've always wanted to write that book in the back of your mind, DO IT!  Just sit down and write that first sentence and say "F" the world!  Because the world just may need that book.  You certainly do.
AWR: Oil!  Oil can!
CR: Oh Andy, that's you all over.
I'd like to thank Joel and Joe and Andy for their questions.  They actually supplied me with quite a few; so look for more roundtable discussions in future blogs!