Everyone loves Betty

My current guilty pleasure is vintage game shows.   Prior to this obsession, it was Johnny Carson reruns.  It's fairly typical of me to get fixated on one thing for a period of time and then move on to something else.

I suppose when we begin to feel a little less immortal, it's not obscenely abnormal to start looking in the rear view mirror.

One day, I am reminiscing with an old friend about high school graduation and this little irritating thing called math enters my mind.   When I graduated in 89, my mom was the same age I am now, I told her.  Makes sense.  My kids just graduated and I am your age, this friend replied.

Thanks to the internet, we are given the opportunity to read about ghosts.   It's just a collective word to describe all these "celebrities" I watch on these game shows.  One by one as they appear on these game shows, I google them.  

Charles Nelson Riley.  Dead.
Gene Rayburn.  Dead.
Richard Dawson.  Dead.
Brett Somers.  Dead.

And so on...

Morbid, I suppose but all these people seemed so likeable back then.  Filled with life.  Funny.  Creative.  Approachable.

Just when this little eye twitch sets in with this new knowledge that no one lives forever, Betty White appears on game show after game show.  Google says shes alive!   Of course, I knew that but I had to make sure.

Last night, my game show curiosity/obsession took a new turn.  I watched two long documentaries.  One was about Michael Larson, the man who outsmarted CBS and Press your Luck.  He figured out the patterns on the No Whammies board and walked away with $110,000.  Back in the early 80s, no one ever won more that $30,000 on a game show.  Larson was a con artist who spent months watching Press your Luck and figuring out where the Whammies would not hit the board and when.

The second documentary was about Charles Ingram.  He was an English army major who cheated on Who wants to be a Millionaire.  Ten years ago, his wife and a friend sat in the audience and would obnoxiously and loudly cough when the right answer was given out of the mulitple choices of each question.   Worst cheater in history.  He ended up winning $1 million and then getting 20 months in jail.  Of course, he never got paid.

Most of the game shows are cliche.  Everyone is super corny and jumps up and down incessantly.   For fear of being censored, sex is called making whoopie or the cringe inducing making love.  Sexual innuendo is avoided.   It's like watching the Brady Bunch on Prozac.

Really, the only unsavory part of these game shows is Richard Dawson's need to make out with women, girls, or anyone with a vagina.  Most over-rated "celebrity" in history.  Unfunny, pretentious and a little creepy.

So, I'm watching a celebrity episode of Family Feud and there's Betty White again.   She was on every game show possible back then.  Mr. Dawson leans in, makes out with her and she discusses some animal charity she will be donating any winnings to if her team wins.

God, she's the sweetest woman alive, I am thinking.  But what's with the hair?  She's had the same haircut since the 50s.  That's unheard of with women.  It's like imagining a woman owning only one pair of shoes her whole adult life.   I become fixated on this for a few minutes.

Maybe, that's why everyone loves Betty.  She's consistent. 

There's something to be said about consistency.  Being approachable, funny, friendly, kind; they're all noble traits.  And rare.  All of these ghosts seem to be genuinely drawn to her.  SHE'S GONNA OUTLIVE ALL OF YOU, I shout silently.

As I am about to become bored with my evening menu of game shows, Match Game comes on.  There's this little old lady contestant named Mildred who appears.  Mildred?  What's with all these terrible names women born prior to 1950 are given?  I become fixated on names and how they seem to always match the person with it.  I think of every crush I've ever had since I was 13 and there are no Mildreds or Barbaras or Loises or Helens.  

Match Game ends with Mildred winning $500.  The little old lady is beside herself.  I suppose that was a lot of money in 1978.  She's attempting to jump up and down while clapping like a seal.  Her joy is infectious.

And then...

Betty White, with the same haircut as Mildred but probably 30 years younger, rises from her celebrity seat, jogs over to Mildred and hugs her. 

It was genuine joy for another person.

Google says she's 94 years old.  Fifty years from now or 12 more presidential elections, I'll be the age she is now.

I'm getting a new haircut.