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Yet if the doyenne of sitcoms has altered her appearance, her off-screen life-style remains the same. At odd hours of the day Mary rattles around in her Bel-Air mansion overlooking the sixth hole of a manicured country club.
"You can hear a lot of 'goddammits' and 's.o.b.s' coming up through the windows," she says.
Much of the time the sounds echo in empty rooms. Her son Richard, 18, has left the Tinker home to live with his father.
Unlike her confidante, Mary sends no White House telegrams and pickets no establishments; indeed she is something of an establishment herself. Her off-screen energies are principally directed toward her adopted children: the programs of the fall and whiter schedule. The one closest to her affections is Rhoda—just as Valerie's favorite show remains Mary Tyler Moore's.
Between them, the two very different, identical comediennes are the season's brightest clowns. On every show they prove that women need not be dingbats or contralto foghorns to win applause or affection. Almost alone, they are bringing back the forgotten tradition of the beautiful clown. From the look of the ladies and the sound of their followers, TV '74 has a glow that extends to viewers who may yet be witnessing television's true Golden Age of comedy—stronger and longer than the one in the '50s. Indeed, Mary Tyler Moore and Valerie Harper are enough to make almost anyone forget the comedies of the past. And even the crustiest nostalgia buffs cannot ponder Rhoda or The MTM Show without admitting that on these long autumn evenings, all that glitters is not old.
MARY: Who cares if our ratings go down a few points?
TED: Right. So long as the people keep watching.