Showing posts with label Susan Saint James. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Susan Saint James. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

A Method to the Madness

Muscato recently pondered, "Where does he come up with this stuff?!", apropos of the blogs of certain "demented geniuses," including this humble oasis in the cybersystem. While we appreciate the public acknowledgement of our dementita and genius, we have to admit that the truth is sometimes quite logical and boring -- although the end result can be slightly loopy.

Case in point: today we were researching who Tomorrow's Birthday Boys and Girls would be; we were frankly a bit disappointed that Susan Saint James was about as fabulous as it got -- but bloggers can't always be choosers. Frankly, SSJ leaves us pretty ambivilant -- and we always mix her up with Kate Jackson, for some reason.





Anyway, as we halfheartedly Googled "Susan Saint James" for a reasonably fabulous photo, we happened upon a striking image which suggested that SSJ's off-screen life, at one time, was at least marginally more exciting than her appearances on McMillan & Wife or Kate & Allie would suggest:



For once, Susan Saint James actually looks like someone we'd strike up a conversation with! The actor by her side is Peter Duel, whom we'd never heard of before; so, of course, we Googled him, as well. Apparently, he was quite a popular television actor in the late 1960's and early 1970's, before depression and alcoholism led him to suicide. We were most intrigued by his first starring gig: on a 1966 sitcom obviously taking its cue from the then-wildly successful Neil Simon play, Barefoot in the Park. Called Love on a Rooftop, it starred Duel and Judy Carne as charming young things in love and in Manhattan.



Despite solid reviews and ratings, Rooftop wasn't picked up for a second season. We're anxious to finally see an episode, so we can only speculate that one reason for its cancellation was that leading lady Judy Carne realized her baby-faced co-star made her look like his grandmother.

See? We start off bitching about Susan Saint James, get detoured being fascinated by the suicide of a minor TV heartthrob, and finish things off with a few snarky comments about Judy Carne's sex appeal. A very simple, logical trip from Point A to Point B.