I'm probably aging myself, but I'll cop to remembering the first few seasons of
Roseanne, back when it was still a comedy about a white trash couple struggling to raise a family, before fame and Tom Arnold unleashed Roseanne Barr's ego like the kraken in
Clash of the Titans and the show went completely off the rails. I remember going to the cafeteria in Mitchell Hall my freshman year of college to watch the show even though my roommate Les had a TV in his alcove because his mountain of sweaty, unwashed gym clothes smelled like a garbage dump and you couldn't even get through the opening credits without watery eyes and a barf bag.
With tabloid stories making behind the scenes antics sound more exciting than the show, it's hard to believe that twenty five years have passed since Darlene taunted Becky for farting during a school presentation or DJ kept a secret stash of dismembered dolls under his bed and that none of these kids got arrested for prostitution or murder or got thrown into court ordered rehab. Hell, Sara Gilbert even made it back to television, although she took time out from
The Talk to promote a new book about environmentalism (those lesbians and their recycling) on NY Live.
Not to be outdone, Lecy Goranson took time out of her job reading tarot cards at the Gowanus Yacht Club in Brooklyn to join TV brother Michael Fishman to promote
Roseanne's twenty fifth anniversary because neither of them is doing anything new worth promoting and America loves nostalgia.
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