Several years ago when I owned the cafe, one of my customers and I were chatting about dinner parties. Marilyn is just a tad older than I am, so when I said to her that I was the Mary Richards of dinner parties, I assumed she knew what I meant.
She didn't, Marilyn looked at me with thinly veiled contempt and said, "Well, I'm not, I'm terrible at throwing dinner parties."
Sigh. And so was Mary Richards.
Here's today's history lesson. Many decades ago there was an awesome sitcom called The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mary was a plucky young news producer carving out her own place in the working world during the sexual revolution. Mary was beautiful, smart, a great friend and had a fantastic wardrobe, but even though she tried and tried, could not throw a successful dinner party.
Her most famous dining debacle was the night of Veal Prince Orloff; Mr. Grant was not only extra cranky, but he took half of the portions of veal and Rhoda brought an unexpected guest. The poor guy had just lost his job, but the good news about that was in just a couple of short years, that guy landed a great gig on Happy Days and became one of the most loved icons in America.
So what do Henry Winkler, MTM and dinner parties have to do with me and The Last Prospector? Great question, glad you asked.
Not long ago, I started a contest called the Name Game so I could give away some copies of my book and, thus far, I have received no entries. Not a one. Not even from my sister who is supposed to support me in these things -- that's right I called you out Shaman Ydemon!
This is most disheartening, so I am asking nicely. Please enter my contest, especially since right now, your chances of winning are excellent. All you need to do is make up a name and send it on, you could possibly win a copy of The Last Prospector and you will absolutely, definitely make me smile brighter than a lighthouse at midnight.
And the other thing that Mary Richards and I have in common is that we can both turn the world on with our smile :)