Estelle Getty is dead. And I'm pretty sad about it. Like, I saw the video on YouTube of the guy crying, and instead of reacting in a rational 'what the fuck is this loser all about' way, I started crying too.

Being somewhat of a GG fan, I recently completed the Rue McClanahan autobio, My First Five Husbands... and the ones who got away, and without a hint of irony, I loved it. Apparently Estelle Getty suffered from Lewy Body dementia while working on the show, and had to have cue cards.

The cue card situation forced writers to develop longer monologues for Sophia, so she could have adequate screen time, thus developing her character into this story-telling wizard. Man, that lady could tell the S off any story. She was fantastic.

Needless to say, the show was edited just so, and you can't really (*really*) notice the cue card reading...

The wonderful thing about Estelle Getty is the fact that she became famous while struggling through the early stages of this horrible condition. She was already suffering, and her work was also suffering. Instead of simply being replaced or reduced to a minor character, the writers chose to accommodate her, thus leaving us with a legacy of anecdotes that, no matter what, will always be funny. Always. Let's not only mourn her passing, but the passing of this somewhat 'golden' age of television sitcom writing.

I believe it is now time for some cheesecake.