Right on, Maude

3 years ago

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Last night Bea Arthur narrated my dreams. I'm wondering if anyone else is hearing her voice since her death on Saturday. You know the voice of which I speak: deep, commanding, measured, wickedly smart, the perfect vehicle to zing Archie, Walter, or anyone who voted for Richard Nixon.

My parents definitively did not allow me to watch Maude, yet I can sing every word to the theme song and sans the help of YouTube, conjure images of Maude gliding around her Westchester living room in a long sweater-vest and matching scarf. Somehow I knew about her famous face-off with Archie Bunker, the synchronicity of her primetime abortion with the passing of Roe v. Wade, and Walter striking her mid-detox. When I trotted off to college to embrace the teachings of Sandra Bartky or took on my male boss for commenting on a coworker's breast implants, I could hear the faint echo of Maude's voice.

Now I religiously carve out time to watch In Treatment, an HBO show for which I am perfectly suited demographically. I'm most hooked on the sessions between therapist Gabriel Byrne and Hope Davis, the brilliant, Manhattan litigator whose successes would have made Maude proud. These episodes are raw and beautifully written, yet I'm not so sure I want Hope's brittle and deflated Mia narrating my dreams. Of course, we can't blame Mia's unhappiness on her ample professional success, and In Treatment is not billed as a comedy, yet Mia's zingers bruise, while Maude's made me laugh.

Although, today I would probably bristle at Maude's limousine liberalism, I long for her attempts to tackle the toughest topics with humor, earnestness, and grace. She was ruthless, but never snarky. Determined, but not desperate. And I'm hearing Bea Arthur right now because her "enterprisin', anything but tranquilizing" Maude mattered.

Filed Under: Woman Up

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