Bye-bye, Bosom Buddy

I loved watching "Bosom Buddies" when I was younger. There's something about putting a man in a dress that guarantees instant laughs; it's a formula the folks at Monty Python milked for years, and I think it worked with this show. If you think about it, you realize Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari did very little to keep up the ruse beyond slapping on wigs and pantyhose. Very little makeup, bobbing Adams apples...nowhere near the attention to detail Michael Dorsey gave to his alter ego in "Tootsie." And it worked! They won housing in an all-women's hotel and the opportunity to ogle Donna Dixon week after week. Of course, in real life they would have been found out instantly, but that doesn't play on television.

But I really liked Wendie Jo Sperber on the show, and it broke my heart to read her obituary this morning. That she didn't make it to 50 and battled breast cancer for nearly a decade made it especially bittersweet; as the daughter of a six-year survivor (and counting), the possibility that I might be next weighs heavily on my mind. It's why I pay special attention to the "girls" during monthly checks, and why I contribute when I can to various awareness organizations (Wendie had founded one herself, I read). The Phaze ladies made a point of breast cancer awareness at our recent In the Pink signing, and though I know it's going to take more than wearing a pink rubber bracelet (which I do) to eradicate this awful illness, I'll do what I can.

For now, I can only bid television's favorite bosom buddy farewell, grateful for the joy she brought us through her talents, and happy with the hope that Amy Cassidy did manage to shag her beloved Henry, dress or no dress.