The Golden Girls television program was never much to look at. A foursome of Florida geriatrics getting agitated about pharmacy bills and shoulder pads– who could ever find such a thing interesting? But somehow these perky and absurd women wormed their ways into America’s homes for an 8-year run in the 1980s. Maybe it was our desire to see our grandmothers having fun that encouraged us to watch. Maybe we wanted to believe old age wasn’t dominated by infections and hip problems, loneliness and crushing depression before death finally stomps us out like the acrid end of a damp cigarette.
The most unexpected segment of this show’s fanbase was America’s young men. In the 80s, these were boys too delicate for sports, too awkward for girls, too “artistic” for labor-intensive work and too flamboyant for peer acceptance in high school. With no real adults in sight, these poor children became obsessed with the poorly conceived characters on this show. Desperate for a firm hand in their lives, they gravitated to the subversive undercurrent of masculinity in these aged matrons.
Many studies have been done on why the gays love The Golden Girls, but science can’t fathom the moral challenges and social upheaval of those historic times. The 1980s was an epoch of President Reagan’s manly wisdom and the terrifying threat of Cold War annihilation. America had sobered up from the flashy lights of 1970s disco. We were skipping all night cocaine and sex parties to focus on our careers. Spiritual leaders like Jerry Falwell were telling us that Christianity was in the majority again. On the other side, there was a subculture of homosexuality creeping up on our youths. It gave them an excuse to wear tight jeans and to sneak off to public parks for quick releases with hairy men of different ethnicities.
THE GOLDEN GIRLS GAY AGENDA
It was only to be expected that our lonely boys exposed to these conflicted times would succumb to the nagging Golden Girls agenda. These were slender, unathletic children who were left out of the fun militarism of the Reagan years. Skyrocketing divorce rates ruined their faith in traditional relationships. Rock groups like Duran Duran and Styx encouraged big hair and overactive libidos. The show lit a match which enflamed their intense physical urges. With the utmost cruelty and immorality, The Golden Girls seized upon this opportunity to cross the hormonal wires of America’s lost generation.
The results were disastrous. Our horny, lonely boys sought out intimate comforts with likeminded Golden Girls addicts who didn’t mind each other’s theatrical voices and touch-feely hand gestures. Together, these clusters of awkward teens and twentysomethings bonded over their favorite episodes and characters, mimicking the voices and gowns of their tv friends. When the rush of cheesecake and gabfests wore thin, these hairless boys needed a harder thrill. They were so desperate for the next big trend they turned to same-sex sexual experimentation. What woman would have them now, anyway? This led to the worse excesses of early homosexual visibility– the most enormous of drag queens, the dirtiest of leather daddies, the most enticing of twinkie boys, androgyny, overeating, public sex and the birth of “camp.”
THOSE THREE DIRTY OLD LADIES
If you walk down the street today and bump into a middle-aged homosexual, chances are that the nasty comeback he will shout at you is something he picked up from Dorothy Zbornak of the Golden Girls. Played by noted liberal activist and Archie Bunker-foe Bea Arthur, Dorothy had a hard, masculine voice. She was cold and quick-tempered. She taught our modern butt rompers to disparage everyone in their orbit. She schooled them on insulting people’s clothing choices, body odors, organ sizes and educations. Dorothy taught the gays to speak very fast and have the most superior attitude possible. This formula has worked for many of your urban leather daddies and flaming queens, who attack with the swiftness of a ninja. It often happens that by the time I figure out what the insulting gay man has said to me, he is long gone (probably off groping someone’s son in a Sears lavatory). For others, and here I’m talking about your waiters and retail salesmen, Dorothy has given them permission to be two-faced. They smile at you through gritted teeth when you tell them to keep their nail polished fingers off the edge of your pasta dish or when you make them promise that they won’t peek while you’re trying on a swimsuit in the dressing room. Beneath that smile is a sneer. These gays really hate you for your Christianity and your gold card, your mature good looks or the fact you lead a handsome camping group into the hushed mountains of Tennessee. In whatever afterlife world she inhabits, Bea Arthur is surely pleased by your outrageous outrages, you homosexual anarchists of America.
Blanche Devereaux, played by Rue McClanahan on the show, is one of the sluttiest sluts around. She will do anything to get anyone into her bedroom for hours of offensive copulation irregardless of her aging orifices. Like many contemporary gays, she also demands expensive dinners and presents from her “dates” and takes special pride in catching the rich ones. Blanche’s promiscuity is a common model for the personal lives of today’s homosexuals. Most gay relationships last a week. It is no coincidence that this is the amount of time between Golden Girl episodes when they first aired on primetime. Blanche’s appearances on the show taught today’s 30-something homosexuals that you need a new strange man on your arm every seven days or else your viewers/friends will lose interest in your life’s plot. Sadly, with the Golden Girls in weeknight syndication, the youngest gays have confused this timetable to mean they need five new boyfriends a week. Their sexual adventures have become both shockingly fast and befuddling to their next-door neighbors and Twitter followers alike.
Rose Nylund, played by x-rated comedienne Betty White, was added to the show as a sort of comic relief to the other more serious characters. She is thoroughly dimwitted. Her clueless acting style makes me cringe at her obvious senility. Senility is not at all funny, but the careless creators of this awfulness used her stupidity for a relentless barrage of immature jokes. Once again, Rose’s most salient trait was picked up and celebrated by the gay community. Every buff beefcake I’ve ever met has been tremendously brainless. They can bump out the beats to any Madonna song on a club railing, but are incapable of telling you the difference between Acapulco and an avocado. They lack the concentration to finish reading your text message, let alone a fantastic website article you may have forwarded to them. Most homosexuals love to gallop around a conversation, yammering out a bunch of big phrases to show you how smart they are. The truth is that if they slowed down for a minute you would see that the Lady Gaga references, truckstop handjob stories and Kevin Jennings defenses don’t add up to an intellectual argument. They’re just random phrases strung together by psychotropically-medicated, carnally-motivated ridiculous libertines glazed with moisturizer.
For Florida, The Golden Girls completely ruined the reality of Miami’s masculine reputation. It was no longer a city of Scarface and Miami Vice. The Cuban machismo and gorgeous Ferraris melted in the face of lengthy canasta games and comfortable paisley chairs. And then the gays came marching in to South Beach. Not even CSI Miami can win the city back for the straights.
WILL THE GAYS LIVE “GOLDEN GIRL” STYLE IN RETIREMENT?
Today, as this crowd ages we have to wonder what comes next for the Golden Girl generation of American homosexuals. They’re turning 40 and 50 now. Their hair is thinning, their waistlines expanding, their cachet in the cultural scene is long past. Most have settled into heavily mortgaged condos or bungalows in gentrified neighborhoods, bitter at their mid-level jobs with zero hope of becoming a CEO to make their fathers proud. Many are too old at this point to be pursuing anonymous street pickups and have settled into caustic relationships that are only monogamous out of mutual laziness. Maybe they find weekend solace in amateur photography or an overly primped shit-zu.
In a dozen years, the next logical step for these people is Florida. Will we see whole sections of this state devoted to horny gay retirees sporting the worst 1980s fashions? High pants and feathered hair and modern architecture? Will they follow in the lusty steps of their forebears, the Golden Girls? When all these gays are in such close proximity to each other, will we see a huge upsurge in illicit homosexual elderly trysts? Will they vote out Florida’s married Christian Republican leaders, like Governor Charlie Crist? Will they embrace any and every cutting edge social issue that will be hip in 2020? Personally, I do not look forward to the day when we’re having moral debates about robot sex, gay jetpacks or houseplant marriage. And worst of all, will the next generation of television executives see the need for a new Golden Girls show featuring silver daddies, poppa bears, wankers on walkers and 50-year old twinks who sit on your lap and suck Metamucil lollipops? America, I will be turning off my tv for good in 2019 just in case.