I love Roseanne. I watched it religiously. I still watch it. I was the same age as DJ, I had the personality of Darlene and had Becky’s bubble butt. This was my perfect sitcom. The writing was far superior to that of the other sitcoms on at the time. Up until the final season, there was rarely, if ever, a need for the quirky filler episodes and broad comedy that plagued Full House and Boy Meets World (which I still totally loved, but for very different reasons). There was no need for an “Urkle” or a “Balki,” although Laurie Metcalf’s “Jackie” seemed to be pushed into that role towards the end.
In a year, I'll actually be forced to be "wacky."
I didn’t know it at the time, but the Roseanne episodes that struck me the most were penned by someone I’d grow up to have a massive fangirl brain boner for; Joss Whedon.
I will argue to the death that “Brain Dead Poet’s Society” is the most fantastic piece of television ever produced. EVER. So Whedon fans note: Before he wrote any inspirational speeches for the Scoobies or lyrics for NPH (scroll to the end of the post for examples of both), he crawled inside my head (and the heads of every other 12 year old girl who used a big mouth and a penchant for sarcasm to cover up how utterly terrifying it was to be a 12 year old girl) and said this:
To whom it concerns, Darlene’s work will be late
It fell on her pancakes and stuck to her plate.
To whom it concerns, my mom made me write this,
But I’m just a kid, so how could I fight this
To whom it concerns, I lost my assignment,
Maybe I’ll get lucky…solitary confinement
To whom it concerns, Darlene’s great with the ball,
But guys don’t watch tomboys when they’re cruising the hall.
To whom it concerns, I just turned thirteen,
Too short to be quarterback, too plain to be queen
To whom it concerns, I’m not made of steel,
When I get blindsided my pain is quite real.
I don’t mean to squawk, but it really burns.
I just thought I’d mention it…to whom it concerns.
It was a fantastic show. I loved the Conners and the love I felt for the humor and the heart this show had grew to encompass the entire cast simply because they were a part of something I loved. They will forever have my admiration…even if they block me on Twitter.
I was very new to Twitter. I’d learned about hashtags and followed appropriately. I didn’t sign up for every celebrity Twitter feed I could find. I was choosy. I had almost 12 followers that weren’t even my real-life friends! I was on a roll dammit! This was around the same time Roseanne’s Nuts was airing on Lifetime. I watched every episode, this was my Roseanne after all. I still loved her! I followed her and boyfriend Johnny on Twitter. I read every single one of their political and socially conscious tweets.
Meryl Streep was also in this. For reals.
I noticed that a lot of strangers spent a whole lot of energy calling her names and responding with an unreasonable amount of anger towards someone who’s major contribution to the world (other than Roseanne) was She-Devil. She’s not in charge of foreign policy here, people. She can be as bat-shit crazy as she wants and I promise you, it will never affect you in any way. Unless, that is, she yells at you on Twitter or something.
I hadn’t quite grasped the subtleties of retweets vs. replies and I sure as feck didn’t think anyone was really reading them. Roseanne likes to retweet the negative replies she receives. So I tried to make a funny and seem like a totally with-it chick. I saw one of these and thought this was my opportunity to be bold and let The Great Roseanne Barr know that we were destined to be Besties by commenting on how that person was totes lame and I was totes awesome.
See what I did there? No? I retweeted a retweet that was originally a reply and added “Really? Are you new?” and then followed it up with an explanation tweet (which I neglected to realize wouldn’t even been see by Roseanne) about “flouncing,” a made-up word from a niche blog. I thought I was freaking brilliant. In actuality, I’m a freaking dumbass.
I’m also painfully aware that this is incredibly hard to follow. Blogging is hard…hang in there Reader, I’ll get better.
What you don’t see is what happened when Roseanne got involved…
TheRealRoseanne: @CJackKittycat @k______ ITS NOT BILE HONEY ITS TRUTH!!!!!
The next day…
To Whom It Concerns, I Suck At Twitter.
I believe my mistake here was three fold: One – Using the term “flounce” which is apparently only used amongst the Regretsy crowd. Two – I obviously find it difficult to say things in only 140 characters without muddling the intent. Three – Attempting to kiss Roseanne Barr’s ass on the follow-up.
In essence, I tried to be funny while communicating with an idol via a social networking site that I have yet to master (Ashton Kutcher can do it for Christ’s sake, how hard could it be?!?!?). It backfired and I looked like an asshole. And if you’ll notice in the above screenshot, Roseanne “hates assholes.”
In a brief moment of unrealistic panic I thought, “Now Roseanne’s mad at me!!!!” So I tried to explain myself to Johnny, but he (rightfully) ignored me and went right back to tweeting about #occupying something.
It definitely bummed me out for a few weeks and I’ve put that Roseanne tattoo on the back burner for now…but I do realize that all these years it wasn’t Roseanne Barr that I loved. It was Roseanne Conner and Dan and Darlene and Bonnie and Mark and David and Nana Mary…this world we live in now presents far too many opportunities to “get to know” the person behind the character with reality shows and Twitter and TMZ and maybe it’s not such a good idea. It’s not fair to them and it’s not fair to us. We can broadcast our crazy/passions/beliefs/ideals/opinions all across the interweb and it’s likely that not many people will care. An actor does it and all of a sudden we get our feelings hurt because we really loved them, that one time, when they were somebody else.
What’s that saying? Never meet your heroes kid…
Check back tomorrow for
Part II: LeVar Burton Did Something Weird To My Eye.
EXAMPLE A – Joss Likes Speeches
EXAMPLE B – He Also Writes Groovy Tunes