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The Age of Betty White: From 'Mary Tyler Moore' to 'SNL,' a timeless tickler
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There's an urge to leave this abiding affection for Betty unanalyzed; to yet again borrow a phrase from the slackened intellectual state of the disunion and proclaim: It is what it is.
Because if anything is what it is, then Betty White is what she is. She passed by me in a crowded hallway backstage at the CBS studios in Los Angeles a few months ago, just before the Betty White tsunami of 2010 washed ashore. I did what any sentient American would do -- I gasped. (Betty White!) She was wearing a Santa Claus suit, getting ready to tape a short bit for "The Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson," where she is a frequent guest. Just a glimpse of her can make a person more happy, in an almost indescribably surreal way. It made everyone in the hallway giddy, too.
This love affair dovetails nicely with nearly a century of media evolution, starting perhaps as long ago as 1939, when young Betty appeared in a demonstration of television at the World's Fair. Now it has gathered itself into a mighty force. Across every media platform, all Betty has broken loose, coming to feverish climax with "SNL." Despite Betty's humble protestations that people must be sick of her by now, Saturday's "SNL" gig underlines something we all know, something important. It will signify . . .
Well, what does it signify? That the power of the Internet and the supposed wisdom of crowds cannot be denied? What happened was simple, really, portentous if (and only if) you want it to be: In December 2009, a 29-year-old man in San Antonio started a Facebook fan page titled "Betty White to Host SNL (please?)!"
He later admitted to Diane Sawyer that he hardly ever watches "Saturday Night Live" anymore. But he and his minions consider the hosting gig as more of a customary American honor. That's like someone who never mails letters asking that there be a Betty White postage stamp. And so this simple idea got traction from 32-year-old celeb gossipeur (Perez Hilton) and then it turned into nothing short of a mob's mandate.
Ultimately, when "SNL" announced that Betty would host, Betty, ever the pro, accepted the honor with her customary humility. To Betty, it doesn't matter where the love comes from or how it is made; she accepts it unconditionally. There is no greater glow than the glow of a celebrity basking in an adulation that no one can bottle or replicate. Even though "SNL's" executive producer Lorne Michaels quickly pointed out that he'd asked Betty to host many years ago (and she confirms that she declined), the success of the Facebook campaign became another occasion for Internet triumphalism: Our social networking can change the course of human events! The old-power, old-media ways no longer apply in our new culture!
And we shall demonstrate our power how?
By essentially browbeating a generally impervious 65-year-old producer (Michaels) to invite an 88-year-old woman (Betty) to host a 35-year-old television show on an 83-year-old broadcast network.
In his recent book "You Are Not a Gadget: A Manifesto," author and early Internet engineer Jaron Lanier laments that for all the talk about the future, the Web is too frequently put to the uses of nostalgia. It has a become a tool we use to call up clips of TV shows we thought we'd never see again, commercial jingles we thought lost to time; to look up ex-lovers we'd vowed to wash right out of our hair; to remake or mash up songs we loved 20, 30, 70 years ago. It is a device by which we vote to have our surrogate TV grandma honored by putting her through the grueling pace of an improvised, live comedy sketch show.
And she is thrilled to do it. Which gives America still more satisfaction: We made it happen. (Never mind our other favorite pastime here, which is to kvetch that "Saturday Night Live" is never as good as it used to be, or could be, or ought to be, etc.)
Victory, then. Ever the pro, Betty has been in the hallways of 30 Rock this week, being put through (gingerly, one hopes) the four-day rush of manic creativity that results in an episode of "Saturday Night Live." To our relief, several "SNL" alumnae, including Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, have reportedly been summoned to assist Betty, as a sort of tribute to her stature, but also as a way to get around the fact that hosting "SNL" is . . . well, one can only imagine how a 21st-century, fully ironic, incredibly idolized Betty White would facetiously describe it: in words you're not supposed to say on TV.
Saturday Night Live
(90 minutes; hosted by Betty White, with musical guest Jay-Z) airs at 11:30 p.m. Saturday on NBC.