March, 2024 updates (yes, I’m updating an update’s updates) below.

Leggings, sash, a pince-nez… Could Mayor McCheese be any gayer?

03/18/24: A new review is coming tomorrow, with Patty Duke in a role that didn’t require crash dieting or child-beating. Apologies for not sharing an update here sooner; time got away from me a bit. The good news is that I wasn’t incarcerated or involuntarily committed, but the bad news is that Nancy McKeon’s Firefighter was next on the agenda and I’ve run into a problem — the print currently on Tubi has some sort of copyright protection that prevents screenshot captures.

My commitment to these retrospectives is such that I even tried my luck with a manufactured-on-demand DVD copy of the film. That, too, is locked down like Fort Knox. While I understand that piracy is a problem and agree that studios have to protect their investments, I question the wisdom of guarding a forgotten TV movie from 1986 more fiercely than popular new releases.

This leaves me with a couple options, should I proceed with the review: I can commission Crankenstein to doodle McKeon fighting fires or I can attempt to take photos of my screen. If I go the latter route it’ll probably be the gayest thing I’ve ever done, and I say that as both a woman with a wife and as someone who recently paged through Eve Arden and Arlene Dahl paper doll booklets.

02/29/24: Despite my best efforts, we’re closing out the month with only three reviews. What was intended as the fourth is nearly complete and should be posted tomorrow.

02/25/24: Even I’m in suspense over whether I’ll reach my goal of posting two more reviews by the end of the month. But the conditions look favorable for finishing at least one more, mostly because my wife is up to her ears in deadlines and probably won’t require much of my attention this week.

We made time to watch Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret tonight, before she plunged back into her work, and I heartily endorse it. Its ending needed some help and the wonderful Kathy Bates, whose work I love and deeply admire, was not believable as a Jewish grandma, but it does the book justice. Considering the material and what adolescence is like these days, that seems like a small miracle.

Oh, and Crankenstein agreed to watch Black Death, a Kate Jackson plague movie, with me, so that’s on the agenda for March. A joint screening will either be really fun or take four hours as she endlessly nitpicks medical and epidemiological stuff. I bought a movie theater box of Reese’s Pieces at the dollar store today specifically for the occasion (because they were out of Buncha Crunch).

02/13/24: If the stars align tomorrow, I’ll have an unusual Valentine’s Day gift to share with you all. It’s one you’ll probably want to return without opening — it’s like a Whitman’s Sampler where every variety of chocolate is uniquely unappealing — but isn’t it the thought that counts?

02/06/24: When these Mayor McCheese updates started in December, it was because I couldn’t publish a “Hey, new stuff coming soon!” blurb without it being sent to email subscribers, some of whom might only care about full-length posts. A recent site update introduced the option to disable notifications, but I’m sticking with McCheese for now because his burgery visage makes me laugh. With that out of the way, a new review should be posted tomorrow.

01/30/24: A new review is coming on Wednesday. I tried my best to have it ready today but my head has felt thick and slow all evening, like it’s full of oil sludge or a particularly repellant variety of Campbell’s Chunky soup. You wouldn’t think that’s a hindrance when writing about a Melissa Gilbert movie, but it is.

01/25/24: At long last, I’ll have something new to post on Friday, followed by another review before the end of the month. Everything’s fine, I’ve just hit a frustrating patch with the Parkinson’s. That’ll hopefully improve next week, after I see the MDS.

“You have to sort this out,” I’m going to tell her. “If not for me, then for all the gay men and lesbians born between 1955 and 1975 who like to be reminded of Kristy McNichol and Ann Jillian movies they haven’t thought about in decades.” (There are non-gay readers, too — if you’re one of them, hi!, please don’t feel left out — they’re just typically less passionate about Judith Light and Swoosie Kurtz.)

01/11/24: If all goes according to plan, a new review will be posted tomorrow. It was originally supposed to go live tonight, but sleep’s been hard to come by lately, and that caught up with me today. That’s how I unexpectedly ended up asleep on a dog bed this morning, spooning a Boxer/Rottweiler/American Eskimo/Boston Terrier mix and throwing myself off-schedule.

12/26/23: New review coming tomorrow and you’ll want to read it in your very worst Southern accent, preferably after packin’ chew and do-si-doing and things of that nature.

12/19/23: Here it is.

12/18/23: The Bertinelli review is 90% done and will be posted tomorrow.

12/17/23: Wanted to post an update without blasting an email alert to subscribers (who already suffer enough), so I’m tacking this onto a ridiculous 15-year-old post about Mayor McCheese, which allows me to temporarily ‘sticky’ it atop the homepage. With that out of the way, a new review is coming on Monday or Tuesday, featuring either Nancy McKeon or Valerie Bertinelli. Sorry for the delay, I’ve been busy with year-end things and having a tough time with my arm. Thanks for your patience. — Cranky

Original post from 7/31/2008:

Are the Golden Arches a gateway to gay sex? Do Happy Meals now come with poppers and lube? These are the questions I ask myself each time I receive a new Google Alert about McDonald’s and its supposed promotion of the gay agenda.

Maybe if I followed the links to more of these articles, I wouldn’t have to wonder. But they mostly come from websites with names like ‘Stop the ACLU’ and have sleazy headlines that blare “McDonald’s Profits Help Fund Naked Homosex-Fest.” (Well, we know the money won’t be going toward clothes…)

While I’m the first to admit that I’m not the sharpest tool in the monkey barrel — just a few short years ago, I thought Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman were a business arrangement for the ages — I’d recognize the stench of right-wing zealotry anywhere. (Where I grew up, it was a fragrant blend of sweat worked up during an illicit encounter in a rest-stop bathroom and eau de KFC.)

My amazing powers of prescience tell me these articles are all about one thing: the latest American Family Association boycott of the fast food chain, prompted by a $20,000 donation to the National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce. I’m not opposed to reading crap, having amassed in my formative years an impressive library of Sweet Valley High books, but I can’t bring myself to read anything that takes the AFA seriously.

They’re money-grubbing hatemongers who’d boycott their own mothers for a bit of publicity and the best thing you can do is ignore them. Still, when I skimmed the latest alert to pollute my inbox, I was a little tempted to follow the link and post a comment. The headline, which read “McDonald’s Is Digging In Its Heels In Support of Homosexuality,” was too perfect a set-up. My fingers itched to reply, That McDonald’s wears heels was your first sign they “support homosexuality.”

The urge eventually passed, but I remain mildly curious about the content of the article. Does it define what constitutes support of homosexuality? Is there a “Vote Yes on Homosexuality” pin you can buy somewhere? If you make a donation to homosexuality, do you get a complimentary tote, or is that strictly a PBS thing? I don’t understand these people.