Gilda Radner was born on this day, June 28th, in 1946 in Detroit, Michigan. Hooray for today and this amazing woman! As part of the original “Not Ready For Prime Time Players” Saturday Night Live cast on NBC from 1975 – 1980, this versatile performer was perhaps the most beloved woman in contemporary American popular culture. Let’s let the Canadian Mary Pickford keep the “America’s Sweetheart” tag and with all due respect to the great Carol Burnett, I’m saying that not since Lucille Ball had a comedienne so absolutely captivated and charmed a nation (and by “nation” I mean me but I don’t think the cheese stands alone here).
At the age of six, I had no idea what the word “zeitgeist” meant but as a seasoned SNL watcher by the age of seven I knew I wanted to marry Gilda Radner. I was vaguely aware there was an age difference and that there weren’t a host of seven-year-old grooms, but I wasn’t 100% cognizant that a bride-to-be had to agree, too, so I let the daydream linger. But gadzooks, how Gilda Radner and her indelible characters made me (and my family) laugh. She also kicked down a door I didn’t even realize was shut. I wasn’t that far removed from trying to look down Linda Carter’s Wonder Woman breastplate (although I was doubtful the physics were on my side, my older brother had assured me that that was why television was called the “boob tube”). And this was also the era of the Farrah poster (which my brother had) and I wouldn’t dispute her foxiness but Gilda Radner made Mrs. Fawcett-Majors seem shockingly two-dimensional to me. I realize it’s not in anyway heroic to recollect the moment when a boy realizes he prefers ladies with a sense of humor and personality. I cannot even say I had entirely stopped objectifying certain women (onscreen) or that this supposed fond remembrance of Gilda Radner hasn’t gone wildly off the tracks but let me put it this way: As a lad, I was naturally going to be piqued by the filmographies of Adrienne Barbeau and Sybil Danning but, at the age of seven, I fell in love with Gilda Radner. My forty-year-old self understands the gaffe of not saying “I love her work,” but the thing is, as messed-up as it is to say so about someone you’ve never met, I stand with my grade school sentiment. My heart hasn’t changed. I love Gilda Radner. And I miss her so incredibly much. But today is a day for celebration and smiles.
Gilda’s Club, a non-profit network of free wellness and cancer support communities, happily accepts gifts of every size. For more information visit http://gildasclub.org/
