"Great" indeed.
If you're a writer, you can only hope and pray you have 1/1000th of the genius that this true lady shared with the world. And, to achieve any level of her success, well, that's a bar that is now set eternally high.
High indeed.
The Los Angeles Times ran this picture of her with their story and both my writing partner and I grinned. We remembered when we saw that very poster of Lucy and Ethel in the candy factory up close in Madelyn's home office. Signed by both Lucille Ball and Vivian Vance. Madelyn told us it was the first thing out of the house in the event of a fire.
A few years ago, I did multiple blog pieces listing and waxing poetic over my Top 25 Favorite TV Shows. It was no surprise that "I Love Lucy" topped that list. It gave me the opportunity to tell the following story about our connection to Madelyn Pugh Davis, which will always have a important place in the highlight reel of my life.
Okay, who's surprised by this? Can I have a show of hands please? If you are at all taken even slightly aback by this choice, you should not be. No TV show has played such an important part in my existence on this planet than "I Love Lucy." From my very earliest age, the Ricardos and the Mertzes have been there with me and for me.
To this day, there are classic lines from this series that I still drag up when situations warrant.
When a dessert cart passes by in a restaurant, I always say, "Oh, I'm gonna have a piece of that." That comes from Ethel when they are dining in the Brown Derby during the "LA at Last" episode.
When work gets a little complicated, I have been heard to utter, "If I could only cut these ties that bind me." That comes from Lucy in the "Ricky's Screen Test" episode.
When somebody says they have an idea, I will always respond with "How can you stand there in the middle of all this and utter those four horrible words, 'I have an idea'?" Again, words from Ethel in the "Ricky Gets An Agent" script.
And, of course, whenever anybody mentions "Riverside" on television, my writing partner exclaims, "Riverside?!!" The famous train ride home from LA when Lucy kept pulling the emergency brake.
"I Love Lucy" formed my comedic psyche and nurtured every creative bone in my body. Beyond its place as the very best television situation comedy ever, "I Love Lucy" was pure entertainment that I first saw in reruns when I was 5. And the educational process began at that point. I can watch episodes over and over and over. I wait sometimes for that one line or look or nuance that seems so fresh and so original all over again. It's been part of our lives for 57 years now and it will never go away.
In a world where complication now reigns, "I Love Lucy" persists. Because it is so inherently simple.
While everyone remembers the classic slapstick moments essayed by Lucy and company, I choose to recall its other facets. The multi-camera "shot in front of a live audience" process invented by unsung genius Desi Arnaz---an innovation used to this day. The wonderful supporting characters and actors that became equally ingrained in our beings. Mrs. Trumbull. Carolyn Appleby. Lucy's daffy mother.
And there are the scripts. When you follow the seasons of "I Love Lucy," there is a maturation process at work on the written pages. The first two dozen or so episodes are primitive and very silly. Indeed, the production was making it up as they went along. There was no previous blueprint to follow. But, once you got to the candy conveyor belt and the birth of Little Ricky in the second season, the scripts offered up perhaps the best comedy writing ever to be heard on television. Oddly, there was an amazing sophistication that one often would not connote with a plot revolving around somebody getting their head stuck in a loving cup.
All credit and hosannas go to the show's executive producer Jess Oppenheimer. And "I Love Lucy" creators, our friends, the late Bob Carroll Jr. and Madelyn Pugh Davis.
When I entered back into writing with my current partner about 16 years ago, we did the usual novice writer thing and crafted spec scripts for existing TV shows. One script we concocted for "Mad About You" had so many Lucy-like moments that we even referenced it in the dialogue. We were pretty proud of the work and I especially wanted to note the influence that Bob and Madelyn had on this particular script. So, I resorted to a now much forgotten way of communication.
I wrote a letter to them. Since they had long since retired, I simply mailed it to them in care of the Writers Guild in California. I thanked them for the writing education their work had given me. Short, sweet, and concise.
About a month later, I got a letter back from Madelyn. In her most professional and yet thoughtful style, she thanked me for remembering her and Bob. She wished me all the best. As it turns out, she was the one from the team who answered all the correspondence. More importantly, the envelope included her home address.
Standing there in the middle of all this, I had another idea.
I packaged up the "Mad About You" script and sent it to her. Begging such presumption, I wanted to share it with her given all the Lucy-like bits that were embedded within.
Two weeks later, another letter back from her. This time, it was a bit more personal. And, more importantly, it was a glowing review of our script. I later learn that such compliments from Madelyn did not flow like cheap beer. She wanted to know how she could help us.
Our feet didn't touch earth for about two days.
From that point, we began a correspondence via mail and then by telephone. Being a bit removed from the business, her contacts now were admittedly limited. But she worked hard at connecting us to whoever she could. And she would read everything we wrote.
At that juncture in NY, we were working on the development of a kids sitcom for Nickelodeon. So jazzed were we about our newfound connection to TV writing royalty that we named the unseen character of a faculty advisor after the Lucy writing staff. Mrs. Carol Oppenheimer-Davis. After several years of gestation, that project died. Our ties to Madelyn, however, did not.
When we started the migration west, we made a test trip to try on the city of Los Angeles. And, of course, we wanted to meet Madelyn. Indeed, we were invited to lunch at the legendary Hollywood restaurant, Musso and Frank. Not only were we to dine with Madelyn, but she brought Bob Carroll Jr. along, and he promptly spent the entire two hours eating French fries off my partner's plate. Sometime around dessert, Madelyn asked a very simple question.
"Are you seeing a TV show while you are here?"
We were a little confused. "You mean like Wheel of Fortune?"
Before we knew it, we were hosted at a filming of "Murphy Brown" by her stepson, who happened to be one of the producers. And another connection is made. We spent three hours with him after the show sitting in the backstage area behind Murphy's townhouse.
As time went on, we would lunch with Madelyn periodically until her health stepped in. But, we also wound up partnering with her stepson on projects that still exist to this day. Of course, there was a previously discussed "Mothers-In-Law" article. For about a year, we all worked on a proposed PBS documentary dedicated to "I Love Lucy." Since checks never got written or cashed, that project didn't see the light of any day. But, for us, there was still always a life and a future.
Bob passed on, but we would remember Madelyn every Christmas with a holiday floral arrangement. And there's always one more correspondence and connection that still seems illogical to me. Because I remember seeing their names and their credits when I was five years old. And because they were writers I had admired for years. And here I am with their home phone numbers in my Filofax.
All because I did the simplest of acts. I wrote a letter. Oddly enough, Madelyn had told us never to discount the power of a letter. Apparently, at one point many years earlier, she had done the same thing. With Henry Ford.
I could go on and on and on. But let's have the work speak for itself. The chocolate dipping scene. Which, by the way, was completely scripted by Bob Carroll Jr. and Madelyn Pugh Davis.
Back in 2011, I'm remembering the last time we saw her for lunch about ten years ago. We would meet her for lunch in the Daily Grill of Brentwood. Sometimes, Bob Carroll Jr. would come along and always eat French fries off my partner's plate. But, at this lunch, it was just Madelyn. Around us at the Daily Grill, we got the sense of an "old Hollywood" presence. All the people looked to be over the age of 65, but everybody seemed to be talking "the business."
The conversation with Madelyn was as always engaging. We were usually careful not to pepper her with too many questions about "I Love Lucy" and writing, but she always drifted in that direction anyway. Always almost mystified by the fact that people still wanted to talk about that single TV series.
My partner saw the occupants of the booth behind us first. Former MTM and NBC President Grant Tinker was having lunch with the legendary sitcom director Jay Sandrich. We pointed out their proximity to Madelyn. For us, it was a big deal. We calculated in our minds just how many Emmy Award wins were sitting within five feet of us. Madelyn, however, didn't seem to be affected. She kept on talking about whatever inane question we had just bombarded her with.
After five minutes, she sheepishly leaned across the table with an almost-apology.
"I guess I better say hello to them."
We assured her it was no problem to either of us. Heck, no, indeed.
"But I'd rather sit here and talk to you two."
Gulp.
Madelyn once made a throwaway comment to us that will ultimately last with both of us forever.
"If Bob and I had met you guys earlier, you would be working for us."
Gulp again.
That acknowledgement from Madelyn Pugh Davis is still all we ever need.
Dinner last night: Pancakes and eggs at Jahn's.
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