A father–daughter dance prompted Raymond (Ray Romano) to reminisce about the birth of his oldest child, Ally (Madylin Sweeten), on the episode of Everybody Loves Raymond that first aired on this night in 2001.
My guess is that is a common thing for parents to do — to remember, usually on a special occasion, when a child was born and reflect on how far they have all come since that time. In this episode, which first aired on this night in 2001, Ray remembered how difficult it had been to conceive a child.
Then, after the child was conceived, Ray and Debra (Patricia Heaton) spent a lot of time with Ray's parents. In her typical way, Marie (Doris Roberts) was producing tons of food and insisting that pregnant women should eat. Even if she didn't want to eat, Debra complied.
And then there was a rather harrowing moment on the Long Island Expressway when everyone thought Debra was in labor — turned out to be a false alarm — and their drive to the hospital was slowed considerably by traffic.
At one point, the three of them were convinced the baby was about to be born right there on the expressway, and Robert (Brad Garrett) tried to make use of his training in emergency deliveries, but he told Raymond that something was wrong.
"I don't think I'm seeing what I should be seeing," Robert said.
Ray, whose mind was always on a single track, replied, "You're seeing everything! What else are you supposed to see?"
"A head!" Robert responded.
At that point, Debra concluded that the contractions were easing, but that didn't make the drive back to Frank and Marie's any less uncomfortable.
Then, when Ally was finally born, the family gathered in Debra's hospital room to greet the newest Barone.
All that was on Ray's mind as he watched his 9–year–old daughter on the dance floor.
Then a slow song came on. It happened to be Stevie Wonder's "Sunshine of My Life," one of the calming songs Debra wanted to hear during her false labor.
And Ray asked Ally if she would dance with him. She did.
Now, I'm sure this episode had a lot of sentimental relevance for anyone who has ever been a parent. But even for such as I, it was a touching episode. Most of my friends have been parents. One of my friends even made me the godfather of his daughter, and I feel about her as I would of a child of my own.
Robert:Oh, come on, Raymond, if people are trashing me, you're right up front with the baton.
If you have been single past the time when people think you should be single, you're bound to be familiar with the theme of the episode of Everybody Loves Raymond that first aired on this night in 2001.
"Let's Fix Robert" was the title, and I suppose you can guess many of the elements of the plot. The general theme was that Robert (Brad Garrett) was unable to find a steady girlfriend — even though two of Robert's recent girlfriends were featured in the opening segment and figured prominently in the plot in general, his American sweetheart Amy (Monica Horan) and his Italian sweetheart Stefania (Alexandra "Alex" Meneses).
They met each other at the neighborhood pizza joint and began comparing notes on Robert. The notes were unfavorable, of course. Robert wasn't there to hear them, but his brother Ray (Ray Romano) was there — and the girls, having deduced that Ray's pizza was going to be consumed in part by Robert, tried to wreck his pizza before he could get out the door with it.
Word that Amy and Stefania had met got back to the Barone matriarch, Marie (the recently deceased Doris Roberts), who concluded it was the perfect opportunity to find out what Robert's relationship problem was.
Robert might never have known about it if he hadn't stumbled onto a gathering of the three one day when he entered his mother's kitchen and asked her to make him something to eat. She proceeded to hand him one of those lunch–sized bags of potato chips and give him the bum's rush, but she relented and took him in to the living room — where he found Amy and Stefania sitting side by side on the couch.
The purpose of the gathering, she told her son, was to discuss his issues. She had decided to let him sit in on the conversation because it would save her from having to go over all the points with him later.
That was bad enough — Robert said it was "horrifying beyond belief" to find his ex–girlfriends on the living room couch in his parents' home — but then his police partner Judy (Sherri Shepherd) showed up, and Robert objected. "She has nothing to do with me not giving you grandchildren," he protested.
"She spends 60 hours a week with you," Marie told Robert. "She has a lot to bring to the table."
They all had things to bring to the table. Each had her own complaint. Amy didn't like the way he ate her dessert when they went out to dinner. Stefania objected to his "frowny, frowny face ... it is annoying."
Judy appeared to be an ally at first, reminding the others that Robert had a demanding job as a police officer and needed his down time. But then she launched her own gripe about his love of onions. "He puts them on everything. There are other people," she told him.
"All areas you can be working on, dear," Marie told Robert.
Amy said she would be willing to put up with all Robert's other shortcomings if not for the biggest one — "his total fear of commitment." Stefania agreed. Judy was silent — probably because, as Robert's police partner, she required (and almost certainly received) a different kind of commitment from him.
For his part, Robert clearly felt ambushed — and, I would say, rightfully so. Anyway, he sought refuge at Ray and Debra's house, but Debra (Patricia Heaton) couldn't remain silent when Robert began moaning about spending his life alone.
Debra accused him of being alone because that is how he wanted it. He was looking for the perfect woman, she said, and he would never find her because no such thing exists.
Then she was floored when Robert told Debra that she was perfect.
That led to a delightful exchange between the three of them over whether Debra was perfect, and Robert finally convinced them he meant to say that Debra was perfect for Raymond. "I'm just hoping to be that lucky," he said.
To which Debra gave the classic response that people like Robert always get from people like Debra — "You will be."
Of course, those who watched Everybody Loves Raymond know that Robert and Amy eventually got married, but on this night in 2001 that outcome was still far from clear to the show's viewers. It may well have been an inspiration that was yet to come for the show's writers.
It was the outcome that Marie wanted, but on this night even she could not have known how everything would turn out. She was taking no chances. As the episode ended, she was working on what had apparently been a complaint that came up after Robert left — his ear hair.
I didn't watch Everybody Loves Raymond much when it was part of the prime time lineup, but I've been making up for lost time since it has been in syndication.
There are several episodes that always make me laugh, and the one that first aired 10 years ago today is one of them.
It is called "The Canister," and it is the tale of a can that had great sentimental value for Marie and her two sons. It once belonged to Marie's mother and had been passed along to Marie in due course. Ray and Robert had fond memories of the cookies their grandmother always kept in that canister.
Speaking of cookies, Marie (who reminds me more and more of my stepmother with every episode I watch) had made some cookies for her grandchildren and wanted Debra to give back the canister, insisting she had loaned it to her, but Debra claimed she had returned it. Marie didn't (or wouldn't) believe that, but she finally accepted Debra's version of events and apologized for impugning her honesty.
It was the day before Easter, she observed, and she wanted it to be a good holiday for the whole family.
Everyone in Ray and Debra's kitchen at that moment — Ray, Debra and Robert — was stunned. "Wow! A Marie Barone apology," Robert said in astonishment. "Until today, I had only heard about it."
"And to you," an equally stunned Raymond said to Debra. "There's your Easter miracle."
Debra was generous in her victory. That apology had been a difficult thing for Marie, she said, but it had been sincere.
Then Ray and Debra's daughter came in and spoiled the whole thing.
She was carrying the canister. "Is this what Grandma was looking for?" she asked. When Debra asked where she had gotten it, she replied, "You gave it to me" — ostensibly for storing her crayons.
So, as it turned out, Marie had been right — and Debra was afraid of how miserable Marie would make her life because of that. She decided to throw the canister away, and she swore Raymond and Robert to secrecy.
But, like the proverbial bad penny, the canister kept coming back. When the family was preparing to go across the street for Easter lunch, it came tumbling down the stairs. The twins, who had retrieved it from the garbage, were playing a version of kick the can, and Ray decided that the canister had to be returned to his mother's house.
The fact that the canister had come back twice was a sign, he told Debra. "It's like when you think the movie is over, and then a hand comes up!"
They conspired to smuggle it into the house and leave it somewhere where Marie would find it — and deduce that it had been there all the time.
In spite of various obstacles, they managed to get the canister into the house, but then things began to unravel when Frank caught Debra holding it. Debra asked Frank what she should do. "Give your heart to God," he advised, "because your ass is Marie's."
But, at the moment of truth, Frank couldn't permit that to happen, and he took the fall — and the scorn and abuse Marie heaped on him. Frank took it all silently.
Debra was overwhelmed. "I don't know what to say," she told him. "Why did you do that?"
"I didn't want that to happen to you," he confessed. "You're like my daughter."
Then, before things could get too sentimental, he added, "And she was going to yell at me like that, anyway. I ate the backside of that ham."
Sure enough, a couple of seconds later, the audience could hear Marie bellowing from the kitchen, "Frank!"
And Frank smiled and looked at his wristwatch. His prophecy had been fulfilled.
Patricia Heaton (Debra) won an Emmy for her performance in that episode.
If TVLand is part of your satellite or cable package, you may have watched the TVLand Awards on Sunday night — or you may have seen a rerun of the program this week.
If you did see it, you should already know that the surviving cast members from Everybody Loves Raymond were among those who were honored. Sadly, the Barone family patriarch, played by Peter Boyle, and Debra's father, who was played by Robert Culp, are deceased, but their contributions to the show were remembered with fondness by star Ray Romano.
Anyway, I felt inspired this week to compile my top 10 moments from that show. I can't say it was my favorite show when it was on the air, but it was a show I enjoyed watching, and I enjoy it even more now:
This one isn't particularly funny to me, but it certainly rings true.
If you watched the show with any regularity, you were familiar with Robert's difficulties with women. His first wife was — shall we say? — less than committed to him, and he was forever encountering barriers to happiness with the women he dated — until Amy (Monica Horan) came along. But we'll get to her later.
Anyway, in "She's the One," which aired during the seventh season, Robert thought he had found the one — until Ray saw her eat a fly and tried to warn Robert. As usual, Robert thought Ray was trying to ruin a good thing for him, and he waved it off. Then he went to Angela's apartment and saw her "roommates."
At that point, he made a beeline for Ray's place, where he had to listen to the litany that should be familiar to anyone who was still single after a certain age.
I admired Robert's response. It was kind of a "wish I had thought to say that" moment for me.
This is a two–part highlight. This part is funny by itself, but it puts the next part into context.
They're both from "Lucky Suit," a sixth–season episode in which Robert interviews for a job with the FBI.
Robert was overjoyed to get the interview, and his mother tried to help him by pressing his lucky suit. But she singed it, and Robert had to wear a different suit.
He was not happy about that, to say the least. Nor was he happy about having to wear a substitute for his lucky suit to the interview.
Then, when the interview was done, Robert came back to Raymond's house, where he found his mother in the living room with Ray and Debra.
Their confrontation was a classic.
When Robert says things were going well until the interviewing agent received the fax from Marie — and Marie, who is oblivious to the nature of Robert's predicament, explains that she hadn't been sure the fax went through because it was the first time she had ever used a fax machine — I always crack up.
Both Brad Garrett (Robert) and Doris Roberts (Marie) won Emmy Awards for their performances. Deservedly so. Robert's glare when he entered Raymond's home was worth a thousand words.
Whenever a show has children, times come when they take the spotlight.
(I make exception, of course, for shows that are focused on children, and the adults are merely supporting players.)
And the kids were frequently in the spotlight on Everybody Loves Raymond.
They were at the center of "Left Back," an episode about an all–too–real problem with which some parents of twins must cope.
One of the twins had developed faster than the other, and the pre–K teacher recommended that the slower one be held back a year. Ray and Debra had to decide whether to hold the other one back as well.
It's a good episode, although it probably has more relevance for parents than it does for me. But I always enjoy the final scene, when the twins do their comedy routine for a talent show.
Ya gotta admit, they're cute.
Early in the final season, in an episode titled "Boys' Therapy," the Barone women talked Ray and Frank into going to Robert's therapy sessions with him. But they went to a race track instead and had to invent a cover story to satisfy their wives.
Considering the show was in its ninth and final season, it was an amazingly creative and thoroughly thought–provoking episode that explored some of the issues between generations and fathers and sons in a typically Everybody Loves Raymond style.
It was honest, and it was funny. Well, sometimes it leaned more to the honest side and less to the funny side.
Like in the attached clip, you can sense a real shift in the mood during the conversation between Frank and his sons. Maybe that was appropriate.
Take it from me, those father–son relationships can be complex.
Maybe Everybody Loves Raymond was a little too honest at times.
Perhaps the best example was "Bad Moon Rising" from the fourth season.
Debra (Patricia Heaton) was a tad irritable during her time of the month. Ray tried to get a remedy in the form of a pill that he thought could help with all of her symptoms.
I've never been married, but this seems to resonate with my friends who are married — both male and female. And, as TV.com observes, Heaton said much the same thing about this episode on the DVD release.
Heaton apparently said she really liked the episode and showed it to some married friends because she thought they would be as amused as she was, but they watched it in silence and seemingly were stunned by how on the nose the comedy was.
I guess one of the things I find endearing about the show is the family bond that is always there.
Sure, the Barones were a dysfunctional family. But, somehow, you always knew they would be there for each other.
Like the sixth–season episode "Cookies," in which Ray was trying to help his daughter sell enough Frontier Girls cookies to win the first prize — even though Peggy, the troop leader, had taken the best sales location for herself and her daughter, and she had given Ray and his daughter one of the worst. Undeterred, Ray and his daughter set up their table at the best location, incurring Peggy's wrath.
It was the start of the Ray–Peggy rivalry.
Enter Debra, who often criticized Ray and the rest of the Barone family "freak show," but when the chips were down (perhaps that should be chocolate chips), she left no doubt whose side she was on.
Thanksgiving gets a bad rap.
Well, that's my opinion, anyway. And I feel exceptionally qualified to pass judgment on Thanksgiving. I was born on Thanksgiving.
Anyway, I often hear people complain about having to spend the day with their relatives and having to listen to them spout off while trying to choke down some holiday dish that had earned an extremely negative family review over the years. That was never my problem. I came from a comparatively small family, and we all got along. On top of that, my mother was a great cook, and our Thanksgiving dinners were fantastic.
When I got older, I didn't always get to spend Thanksgiving with my family. I usually managed to spend Christmas with them, but I often had to choose which holiday to take. I spent many years working for daily newspapers, and someone had to put out the paper. Typically, I took Thanksgiving. For most of my co–workers, family lived nearby, but my parents lived more than 300 miles away from me for many years. When I worked on a holiday, it meant I wouldn't be seeing my family at all.
But when I did spend Thanksgiving with my parents and my brother, it was never the family ordeal that many have described. So I couldn't really relate to the issues the Barones always had on Thanksgiving. And, back in the series' third season, a new problem was thrown into the mix: Marie got some medical test results that indicated her cholesterol was at a dangerous level so, like many Americans, she resolved to cook fat–free meals.
On the menu for the Barones that Thanksgiving was a turkey made of tofu.
By the time the last season began, she and Robert had married, following an on–again, off–again courtship. When the series wrapped up, it appeared that Robert had finally found what he had always desired — a happy marriage.
And the season started with a family bombshell in "The Home." Frank and Marie had visited a retirement home 85 minutes away. They liked what they saw, and they decided to move in. They also decided to sell their house to Robert and Amy.
And there was much rejoicing, as you can see.
Then came the punch line — or should that be the punch in the gut line?
Whichever it was, it was a doozy. Debra, of all people, crumbled when the elder Barones moved out. She got nostalgic, even teary–eyed. I honestly wanted to include that scene here, but I couldn't find it.
Well, I'll always remember the best part. Debra talked about having spent more time with Marie and Frank than Ray or Robert or Amy in the previous decade. "I've been with them morning, noon and night," she said, almost as if she were delivering a eulogy.
And Robert said, "That's why you should be dancing around naked in a fountain!"
Speaking of dancing ...
I suppose, if I had ever been married, I might have the same kind of emotional connection that many folks have to episodes in other TV series about weddings. So, for the most part, I can take wedding episodes — or I can leave 'em. I think I've seen most of the best ones that have been produced in my lifetime — when Klinger got married in the finale of M*A*S*H, when Ted and Georgette tied the knot on The Mary Tyler Moore Show and when Rhoda and Joe got hitched on Rhoda.
But I will watch the Everybody Loves Raymond episode in which Robert gets married any time it is on — mostly to watch Robert and Amy do their newlywed dance. I think it's a classic.
But Ray's toast to the bride and groom is a classic, too.
By the way, a little trivia for you here. Robert and Amy's dance apparently was inspired by real life. I've heard that the producer of the show and his wife, who plays Amy in the series, actually did a dance like that at their own wedding.
Anyway, I guess that naturally leads us to a reflection on how Amy and Robert met.
Their wedding took place in the seventh season. They met in the first season, in "Who's Handsome?"
In between, they dated, broke up, reunited and then married.
And I guess that's an appropriate way to wrap up this retrospective. It was Raymond's name in the title, but, in so many ways, the show itself was more about Robert — his struggle to find an identity separate from his brother, to find a loving and supportive partner, to find his place in the world.
That can be a lot more complicated than it appears.
And, by the time the series ended, it seemed that he had found the things he sought.
And this is simply a Barone family bonus for you. Enjoy.
I got my bachelor's degree in journalism from the University of Arkansas, and I got my master's degree in journalism from the University of North Texas. Most of my adult life has been dedicated to writing and editing in one form or another. Most recently I have taught writing (news and developmental) as an adjunct journalism professor at Richland College, where I advise the student newspaper staff. Go, Thunderducks!
