Into my teens and twenties, the show became a sort of comfort blanket for me. Each character reminded me of someone (except for Blanche) and made them identifiable. When my college roommates first walked in on me watching an episode of The Golden Girls on Lifetime ("Television for Women...and Todd," they used to say), I was forever branded with this show being part of my legacy. This, in turn, leads to my Facebook page getting littered with articles whenever any Golden Girls-related news breaks: Bea Arthur's obituary (a sad day indeed), a Golden Girls-themed restaurant opening in New York City (which has since closed), and the recent Golden Girls cereal (available only at Target).
After trying to ignore this unwanted attention or pretending I don't really like the show, I've learned to embrace it. The show succeeded on television by targeting a forgotten audience (those ages 55 and older) on a forgotten night of television (Saturdays) and providing them with seven seasons of a well-written, well-produced comedy that still holds up today. Betty White is the lone remaining living star from the show that launched the careers of so many folks (Marc Cherry who went on to create Desperate Housewives got his start on The Golden Girls).
Before a recent lengthy plane ride, I loaded my phone with podcasts to pass the miles in the sky. Along with my usual podcasts about the dreadful Chicago White Sox, I added the first episode of Let Them Eat Cheesecake: A Golden Girls podcast. Four fans of the show (including two Chicagoans who also have a Chicago Cubs podcast) discuss and analyze each golden episode of the show. After getting past the gratuitous giggling from some of the hosts in the podcast's first few minutes, I actually found myself enjoying it and learning things about a series in which I've seen every episode at least a dozen times.
I suppose there are worse ways to be remembered, so I'll simple wear this Golden Girls thing and just thank you for being a friend...