
As a child, I wanted to grow up to be Gilda Radner. Decades before the V-Chip, there were liberal babysitters and older siblings who wanted to watch SNL. Thus, I felt that I had struck gold when Saturday night rolled around.
At far too tender an age, I was watching and memorizing the Rosanne Rosanna Danna bits, annoyed for my heroine, by Jane Curtin's interruptions. Did I... Read More