Watching last night's 40th anniversary show for Saturday Night Live was a little like watching my own life. Not because I'm that funny or anything, it's just that I've been watching the show from pretty much the beginning.
Back in 1975 when the show started
I was an awkward teen. My much cooler friend, Pat, lived up the hill from
me. She was the one who first tuned me into the Not Ready for Primetime
Players. We sat in her bedroom one Saturday night watching the crazy
sketch show on her little black and white TV.
The original cast from 1975 will
always be the real SNL for me. My favorites were always Jane and Gilda.
I missed most of the early 80s when I was away at school, but apparently
I didn't miss too much. I tuned in here and there during the 90s and
sporadically in the 2000s. Nowadays I watch when I can but find my need
for sleep keeps me from catching the live broadcast, but I try to tune in for
at least the first 30 minutes.
Seeing everyone come together
last night for one big love fest was great not only for the collection of
talent. A few hours of feeling younger was a nice bonus.
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