Marcia, Marcia, Marcia
June 21st 2007 00:12
Here's the story of a lovely lady
"Who was bringing up . . . . . . ."
Go on, admit it!
You not only know which program I’m talking about – but probably know all the words to the damn thing as well.
So much love, so many groovy outfits - not to mention the heart-breaking trials and tribulations every cast member had to endure – even ‘Tiger’ wasn’t spared the ignominity.
Ground breaking television it wasn’t – but we all tuned in at one time or another didn't we – come on – fess up . . .
Whether it was to catch a glimpse of the leggy ‘Marcia, Marcia, Marcia’, marvel at the grandeur of the two level, four bedroom (plus den) Los Angeles home or simply get out of doing your homework – the Brady’s somehow carved a little niche into all our lives.
The fact that so many TV-reunion series, tele-movies, big-screen sequels and the seemingly never ending world tour by Barry Williams (Greg Brady) regurgitating the same tired tales – tells us that out there – somewhere – amid the modern world – with our penchant for deadlines, fast food and speed dating – that there are thousands (no, millions) of closet fans who still find solice in believing that one day – Davy Jones will answer their fan mail – and will perform at their High School prom.
Long live the teeta- totta.
Long live Johnny Bravo.
. . . and long live a cultural phenomenon.
"Who was bringing up . . . . . . ."
Go on, admit it!
You not only know which program I’m talking about – but probably know all the words to the damn thing as well.
So much love, so many groovy outfits - not to mention the heart-breaking trials and tribulations every cast member had to endure – even ‘Tiger’ wasn’t spared the ignominity.
Ground breaking television it wasn’t – but we all tuned in at one time or another didn't we – come on – fess up . . .
Whether it was to catch a glimpse of the leggy ‘Marcia, Marcia, Marcia’, marvel at the grandeur of the two level, four bedroom (plus den) Los Angeles home or simply get out of doing your homework – the Brady’s somehow carved a little niche into all our lives.
The fact that so many TV-reunion series, tele-movies, big-screen sequels and the seemingly never ending world tour by Barry Williams (Greg Brady) regurgitating the same tired tales – tells us that out there – somewhere – amid the modern world – with our penchant for deadlines, fast food and speed dating – that there are thousands (no, millions) of closet fans who still find solice in believing that one day – Davy Jones will answer their fan mail – and will perform at their High School prom.
Long live the teeta- totta.
Long live Johnny Bravo.
. . . and long live a cultural phenomenon.
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