Chuck

Nov. 7 (UPI) — Democrats are ready to end the federal government shutdown if Republicans agree to extend Affordable Care Act credits for another year, Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer announced Friday afternoon.

Schumer, D-N.Y., said Senate Democrats favor passing a temporary funding measure and three other bills that would fund the federal government for one year, CNN reported.

“Democrats are offering a very simple compromise,” Schumer said on the Senate floor.

“Now, the ball is in the Republicans’ court,” he added. “We need Republicans to just say yes.”

Schumer’s announcement came after Senate Majority Leader John Thune, R-S.D., earlier said the Senate will work through the weekend to negotiate reopening the federal government and possibly vote after a bipartisan effort failed Thursday.

Thune wanted to hold another vote on the House-approved continuing resolution to fund the federal government through Nov. 21, but Senate Democrats aren’t on board, he told media earlier Friday.

“Our members are going to be advised to be available if, in fact, there’s a need to vote,” he said.

“We will see what happens and whether or not, over the course of the next couple of days, the Democrats can find their way to re-engage again,” Thune added.

Thune earlier this week expressed optimism that a funding agreement would be made this week, but that ended after Senate Democrats met on Thursday.

“All I know is that the pep rally they had at lunch yesterday evidently changed some minds,” he said Friday.

“We had given them everything they wanted and had asked for,” Thune explained. “At some point, I was gonna say they have to take ‘yes’ for an answer, and they were trending in that direction.”

The impasse is due to Senate Democrats not trusting President Donald Trump to agree to extend Affordable Care Act tax credits that expire after December and to stop firing federal employees, The Hill reported.

Senate Democrats held a working lunch on Thursday, as referenced by Thune, during which they rejected a bipartisan proposal to reopen the government.

Sens. Gary Peters, D-Mich., Jeanne Shaheen, D-N.H., and Angus King, I-Maine, had worked out a deal with the GOP, which buoyed Thune’s hope of ending the government shutdown on its record 38th day.

Senate Democrats discussed the bipartisan proposal during their Thursday lunch and rejected it due to their distrust of the president.

The proposal would have included a short-term funding measure to reopen the government and a three-year appropriations bill that would have funded the Agriculture Department, Veterans Affairs, military construction and the legislative branch.

The USDA funding would have meant full funding for currently suspended Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits.

Lacking strong guarantees that the president would support extending Affordable Care Act credits that initially were enacted during the COVID-19 pandemic and that are scheduled to expire at the end of the year, the Senate Democrats said they won’t support the bipartisan plan to move forward.

Despite the continued opposition from Senate Democrats, Thune doesn’t expect the shutdown to continue into the Thanksgiving holiday weekend at the end of the month, he said while appearing on Fox News Friday.

Thune needs at least five more Senate Democrats to join with Democratic Party Sens. John Fetterman of Pennsylvania, Catherine Cortez Masto of Nevada and King, who caucuses with Senate Democrats, to approve the continuing resolution.

Fetterman, Masto and King consistently have voted in favor of continuing the 2025 fiscal year budget while negotiating the budget for the 2026 fiscal year, which started on Oct. 1.

Republican Sen. Rand Paul of Kentucky is the only Republican senator to continually vote against the measure.

The House-approved continuing resolution consistently has received a majority of support in the Senate, but it has not received the 60 votes needed to overcome the Senate’s filibuster rule for passage.

Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, D-N.Y., left, and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries on Saturday demanded that President Donald Trump meet with them to prevent a federal government shutdown. File Photo by Annabelle Gordon/UPI | License Photo

Sept. 20 (UPI) — Democratic Party leaders Rep. Hakeem Jeffries and Sen. Chuck Schumer on Saturday demanded that President Donald Trump meet with them to avoid a government shutdown on Oct. 1.

The Senate on Friday failed to pass a House-approved budget extension, which Jeffries and Schumer, both of New York, say means the president must deal with them to prevent a shutdown.

“It is now your obligation to meet with us directly to keep the government open and address the Republican health care crisis,” they said in a joint letter to Trump on Saturday.

“We do not understand why you prefer to shut down the government rather than protect the health care and quality of life of the American people,” they wrote.

Jeffries and Schumer are the minority party leaders in the Senate and House, respectively, and have insisted that the fiscal year 2026 budget include an extension of subsidies for the Affordable Care Act.

The subsidies are scheduled to expire, along with the fiscal year 2025 budget, on Oct. 1.

Jeffries and Schumer said Republican leaders in the House and Senate have repeatedly refused to negotiate to overcome a potential Senate filibuster by Democrats, which would require 60 votes, NPR reported.

Senate Democrats proposed an alternative budget extension bill on Friday, which also failed to muster enough votes.

Jeffries and Schumer said a government shutdown could occur because Republicans refuse to talk with Democrats on the matter.

Senate Majority Leader John Thune on Friday denied excluding Democrats from budget negotiations.

“The House has just passed a short-term, clean, non-partisan continuing resolution to fund the government for a few additional weeks while we continue bipartisan work on appropriations bills,” Thune, R-S.D., said on the Senate floor.

He said congressional Democrats voted 13 times to shut down the federal government during the Biden administration and won’t “gain political points from shutting down the government over a clean, non-partisan continuing resolution.”

Chuck E. Cheese is all grown-up. Sort of.

Brea Mall is now home to a Chuck’s Arcade, the first location in California and 10th in the U.S. When the company unveiled the concept earlier this year, headlines branded it as an “adult” Chuck E. Cheese. There’s some truth in that, but it’s not the full story.

Combine the word “adult” and “arcade” and recognizable spaces — say, Dave & Buster’s — instantly come to mind. Here in SoCal, we also have Two Bit Circus in Santa Monica, which marries retro and modern games with beer and cocktails. Chuck’s Arcade isn’t all that similar to either.

But we were intrigued by its promise of retro gaming and its attempts to appeal to a less kid-focused audience. You won’t, for instance, encounter a pizza party full of 7-year-olds here.

So what will you find? And will it possess the vintage arcade vibes many of us are craving? With the company and its mouse mascot now a cool 48 years old, we weren’t sure what to expect. So we took a visit to Chuck’s Arcade seeking answers.

Where an adult can be a ‘kidult’

It’s not surprising to encounter a grown-up with fond memories of Chuck E. Cheese. For me, I was hooked by the stilted-yet-charming robotic performances from their once ubiquitous animatronic bands, in which tunes were delivered amid the clickety-clack of machinery. Yet a Chuck E. Cheese today is a fully-realized kid-focused video-game-inspired rec room, one where digital floors encourage a more active form of play. David McKillips, president and chief executive of the company, says the firm’s core locations heavily target those between the ages of 3 and 8.

And thus, Chuck’s Aracade, says McKillips, will fill a void. He’s hoping it taps into the marketing segment known as the “kidult” — grown-ups, perhaps, who were raised on games and still cherish the thought of crowding around a “Ms. Pac-Man” console. The kidult sector is booming, encompassing everyone from the so-called “Disney adult” to those who carry a Labubu doll as a fashion accessory. Think anyone who believes that a childlike openness to play and silliness doesn’t have to be eradicated by maturity.

So how does Chuck’s Arcade plan to reach the kidult? Its 3,600-square-foot space boasts 70 games, including a small — emphasis on small — retro section where one will find coin-op cabinets of “Tron,” “Centipede,” “Mortal Kombat” and a “Ms. Pac-Man” head-to-head arcade table. And while a modern Chuck E. Cheese is school-cafeteria bright, Chuck’s Arcade is dark, its black walls and low lighting recalling the arcades of the ’80s and ’90s.

McKillips says Chuck’s Arcade “is appealing to the collectible market,” betting large on grown-ups being drawn to its plethora of claw machines. There are also prize apparatuses dedicated largely to Funko’s plastic figurines.

It’s near the mall food court — which is part of the business strategy

The Chuck E. Cheese company has long had it eye on the Brea Mall.

In an era when malls are being refocused to cater to a more experience-based economy — see, for instance, the escape rooms of Westfield Century City, or Meow Wolf eventually taking over a portion of what is currently the Cinemark complex at Howard Hughes L.A. — Chuck E. Cheese saw an opportunity in Orange County.

“We’ve been trying to get in here for a year and a half,” says McKillips. “The foot traffic is phenomenal. The anchors are strong. They have a really solid food court.”

The food court was a massive selling point.

“That’s where teens are congregating,” he says. “That’s where parents and kids are together. They’ll have a bite to eat and come over and play some games.”

There’s no booze … or even pizza

Here’s one way to think about Chuck’s Arcade: Imagine a Chuck E. Cheese, but subtract the pizza and detract the drinks. In one corner of Chuck’s Arcade rests a giant Skittles machine, and there is more candy available at the front counter. But the company decided to go without a proper food and beverage program for Chuck’s Arcade, meaning those grown-up kidults won’t be sipping on booze or mocktails.

I told McKillips I was surprised. At home, I’m more than 40 hours into “Donkey Kong Bananza,” but I wind down by playing the game and enjoying a beer — one of the core benefits, I believe, of being a certified kidult.

McKillips argues this is actually an advantage for Chuck’s Arcade, allowing it to reach a grown-up audience but still feel family-friendly. Just one Chuck’s Arcade, he says, is equipped to serve beer, wings and pizza, and it’s in Kansas City, Mo.

“This is an arcade destination,” he adds. “We’re not hosting birthday parties. We don’t do [food & beverage] here. You’re going to come here and play games.”

Where’s the nostalgia?

I should be the audience for Chuck’s Arcade. I have fond memories of the brand.

Chuck E. Cheese, the character and the pizza chain, was the brainchild of Nolan Bushnell, best known as the founder of Atari. The franchise launched in 1977 in San José, first branded as Chuck E. Cheese Pizza Time Theatre. As Chuck E. Cheese flourished throughout the early ’80s, the original animatronic figures were a bit more bawdy (Chuck was a smoker). Bushnell envisioned the initial Chuck E. Cheese robotic characters as entertainment that appealed to the grown-ups while the kids played games in the neighboring room.

When I first heard of Chuck’s Arcade, I hoped the company was getting back a bit to its roots. And there’s a nostalgic touch here and there. Aside from the aforementioned selection of vintage games, there’s also a Mr. Munch figurine, who is displayed in a clear case and does not turn on. Munch, a friendly, purple-ish hairball of a creature, was once the anchor of Chuck E. Cheese’s Make Believe Band.

Seeing that one figure treated as a museum piece felt like a half-hearted wave to fans who grew up with Chuck. And while claw gizmos and plastic figurines aren’t my thing, I understand their popularity and wouldn’t mind their presence if there was a greater supply of old-school games, and perhaps some pinball machines.

With a digital key card for Chuck’s Arcade starting at $10, the buy-in to try out the space isn’t large, but this felt like a tentative step into adulthood. After all, Chuck is well beyond drinking age. The mouse deserves a cocktail.

Chuck Mangione, the Grammy-winning flugelhorn player and prolific jazz musician known for songs including “Feels So Good” and “Children of Sanchez,” has died.

Mangione died in his sleep Tuesday in his home in Rochester, N.Y., his manager Peter S. Matorin confirmed to The Times on Thursday. He was 84.

The New York native, over the course of his career which began in the 1960s, earned a reputation as a stylish, lyrically smart trumpeter and played alongside jazz giants Art Blakey, Dizzy Gillespie, Sam Jones, Ron Carter and Kai Winding. He also collected 14 Grammy nominations, notably winning two prizes: one for his smooth “Bellavia” in 1977 and another a year later for the titular anthem he composed for the 1978 drama “The Children of Sanchez.”

This story is developing.

PUT-IN-BAY, Ohio — Nearly 10 years after he changed the lives of every queer person in America, Jim Obergefell sat in a crowded bar on a small island in Lake Erie, watching the close-knit local community celebrate its third annual Pride.

Jim, 58, made history as the lead plaintiff in the landmark legal case Obergefell vs. Hodges, in which the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on June 26, 2015, that same-sex couples nationwide have a constitutional right to marry.

The last decade has diminished the familiarity of his face, once everywhere on cable news, and he appeared to sit anonymously now, sipping a beer in a booth. But Jim’s legacy still resonates deeply with LGBTQ+ people all over the country, in both red and blue states and in little purplish outposts like Put-in-Bay, too — as Molly Kearney, the queer comedian on stage, would soon make clear.

Kearney spent years working at island bars and restaurants before making it big and landing a gig as the first nonbinary cast member of “Saturday Night Live.” They are something of a legend on the island about three miles off the Ohio coast, and the crowd was loving their set — which was chock full of stories about getting drunk at local watering holes and navigating life and family as a young queer person.

Then Kearney brought up Jim’s case.

The day the Supreme Court issued its decision, Kearney was working at a restaurant called The Forge alongside co-owner Marc Wright, who is gay and one of the organizers of Put-in-Bay Pride. Wright immediately told the LGBTQ+ staff their work day was done.

“I just remember that day so vividly,” Kearney said. “He’s like, ‘All right, all the straight people have to work. All the gay people, leave work — we’re going out on the town!’”

The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers, and in apparent approval for Wright, the emcee who had just introduced Kearney.

“It was awesome,” Kearney said, recalling how the whole town seemed to come together to celebrate. “It was a magnificent day.”

Jim, caught off guard, was also clearly tickled as he quietly took in the many smiling faces around him.

A lot of people have told him over the last decade how much his case transformed their lives. Many have cried upon meeting him. Some have said his victory gave them the courage to come out to their families and friends, and even to themselves. One told him she was preparing to take her own life until his win.

Still, Kearney’s story might be his “new favorite,” he said.

For starters, it was darn funny, he said. But it also was rooted in queer acceptance in a small community not unlike the coastal town a short ferry ride away, Sandusky, Ohio, where Jim grew up — and now lives again.

It captured something Jim has observed in his own life the last few years in Ohio, something that might be his greatest legacy, especially in light of recent political efforts to push LGBTQ+ rights backward and queer people back into the closet.

Kearney’s story captured people in an average, not especially progressive American community not just accepting their queer neighbors and friends — but celebrating their right to love.

At home in Sandusky

The night before the comedy show, Jim was in Sandusky, hosting a dinner party in his well-appointed and art-adorned apartment with about a dozen of his closest friends, family and neighbors.

He served some of his own wine — he’s a co-founder of Equality Vines out of Guerneville — and ordered a bunch of pizza, including a Sandusky special: sausage and sauerkraut.

There was his older brother and sister-in-law, Chuck and Janice Obergefell, who recalled traveling to D.C. for the Supreme Court arguments. Their kids are also close to Jim.

“The minute we heard you were going to Washington, we just thought, ‘Wow, this is too cool,’” Janice told Jim. “We’re awfully darn proud of you, but you know that.”

Chuck had worked his whole life in local plants, and had known a few gay men there — regular blue-collar guys who also happened to be the “friendliest people I’ve ever met,” he said. So when Jim came out to him in the early 1990s, it didn’t bother him much, though he did worry about HIV/AIDS.

“I just told him, ‘You’re my brother, I love ya, just be careful,’” Chuck said.

“Then he brought John around,” said Janice, of Jim’s late husband John Arthur.

“And I liked John more than Jim!” Chuck said with a wry smile.

There were several of Jim’s oldest and dearest friends, including Kay Hollek, a friend since they were 4; Judi Nath, a friend since 7th grade; Jennifer Arthur, his 1984 prom date; and Betsy Kay, a friend from high school chorus.

There were also newer friends from town, including Marsha Gray Carrington, a photographer and painter whose work adorns Jim’s walls, and from Jim’s “gayborhood,” as he called it — including neighbors Dick Ries and Jim Ervin, a married couple who briefly employed Jim as a Sandusky segway tour guide, and Debbie Braun, a retired Los Angeles teacher who, like Jim, decided to move back to her hometown.

The conversation ranged freely from Jim’s personal legacy to local politics in Sandusky, which is moderate compared to the red rural towns and bigger blue cities nearby. The talk jumped to national politics and recent attacks on the LGBTQ+ community, which have made some of them worry for Jim’s safety as “an icon of a movement,” as his former prom date put it.

Ries and Ervin, who started dating about 17 years ago, drew laughs with a story about learning of the Supreme Court decision. Ervin was bawling — tears of joy — when he called Ries, who was driving and immediately thought something horrible had happened.

“I think the house has burned down, he’s wrecked the car, the dog is dead,” Ries said with a chuckle. It wasn’t until he pulled over that he understood the happy news.

The couple had held off having a marriage ceremony because they wanted it to be “real,” including in the eyes of their home state, Ervin said. After the ruling, they quickly made plans, and married less than 8 months later on Feb. 6, 2016.

“To me, it was profound that once and for all, we could all get married,” Ervin said.

The group talked about what kept them in or brought them to Sandusky: family, the low cost of living, small-town friendliness. They talked about the other queer people in their lives, including some of their children. They mentioned how the only gay bar in town recently closed.

In between the heavier discussions, they chatted in the warm, cheeky patterns of old friends catching up over pizza and wine. At one point, Jim and several of his girlfriends gathered in the kitchen to discuss — what else? — Jim’s dating life.

Just the week before, Jim said, he had realized he was “ready to let go” of John’s ashes, to spread them somewhere special as John had requested, and finally ready to date again.

“I’m open,” he said, as his girlfriends’ eyes lit up.

The case that landed Jim before the Supreme Court started during one of the hardest periods of his life, when John was dying from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig’s disease. The couple had been together for decades, and in July 2013, three months before John’s death, exchanged vows in Maryland, one of the states that recognized same-sex marriages at the time.

However, Ohio refused to acknowledge that marriage, meaning that, when John died, Jim would not be listed as the surviving spouse on his state death certificate. So they sued.

For years after John’s death and the subsequent court rulings in their favor, Jim kept busy co-writing a book, traveling the country giving speeches and attending Pride events and LGBTQ+ fundraisers as a guest of honor. He was mourning John, too, of course, but amid so many other draws on his focus and attention, he said.

“It’s almost like you didn’t get to do it right away,” said Betsy. “You had it delayed.”

After living in Cincinnati from 1984 to 2016 — most of that time with John — Jim moved to D.C. for a few years, but “missed Ohio,” he said.

In 2021, as the COVID pandemic raged, he found himself increasingly lonely, he said, so he decided to move back to Sandusky to be closer to family and friends. Since then, he has been happier, rekindling old connections, making some new ones and even running — unsuccessfully — for office.

Betsy, a mother of nine — some queer — and a ball of energy, said it’s wonderful to have Jim back in town. The one catch, she acknowledged, is the gay dating pool in Sandusky, population about 24,000, is not exactly deep.

To make matters worse, Jim is hopelessly oblivious when it comes to flirting, she said. The other women in the kitchen nodded.

Taking the cue, Jim went to his bedroom and returned with a small pin Betsy had given him, which read, “If you’re flirting with me, please let me know. And be extremely specific. Seriously, I’m clueless.”

Jim looked around his apartment, in his hometown, brimming with fiercely loyal friends and family who not only love him, but want him to find love.

Thanks in part to him, it was a scene that lucky, happy queer people might find familiar nationwide.

Back on the island

Shortly after Kearney’s set at Put-in-Bay Pride, Kristin Vogel-Campbell, a 45-year-old bisexual educator from nearby Port Clinton, approached Jim at his booth.

Her friend had just pointed Jim out — told her who he was — and she just had to thank him.

“You’ve done so much for our community,” she said. “You put yourself out there, and did the work that was needed to get the job done.”

Jim, not anonymous after all, smiled and thanked her.

A few moments later, Kearney came through the crowd, high-fiving and hugging old friends. When they, too, were told who Jim was, their jaw dropped.

“Are you serious? … Hold on.”

Kearney ran over and grabbed Wright out of another conversation and explained who Jim was. Wright’s eyes went wide — then he reached out and touched Jim on the chest, as if to verify he was real.

Kearney, sticking their arms out to show goosebumps, said, “I have the chillies.”

Kearney doesn’t often include the story of the Supreme Court ruling in their sets, they said, but thought the local crowd would get a kick out of it, because they knew that day had meant a lot to so many people.

“That day — thanks to you — was a very big day for me,” Kearney told Jim. “I didn’t feel fully comfortable — I still don’t — so that day was really important, because everyone was, like, cheering!”

Wright nodded along.

He first came to Put-in-Bay from Cleveland when he was 21 — or a “baby gay,” as he put it. And initially, it was intimidating. “It’s easy to feel like an outcast in a small community, because you’re living in a fish bowl,” he said.

Soon enough, however, the town made him one of their own. People on the island “knew I was gay before I knew, and everyone was like, ‘Yeah, it’s OK,’” Wright said.

He said such acceptance, which has only grown on the island since, is thanks to pioneers like Jim — and like Kearney, whose own success has increased understanding of nonbinary people.

“Just to have Molly go out and live their life so unapologetically, it’s so validating,” Wright said.

Introducing Kearney that afternoon, Wright had thanked the crowd — many of them locals — for proving that Put-in-Bay stands for love and equality, especially at such a difficult time for the LGBTQ+ community.

“Put-in-Bay is for everyone — one island, one family,” he said.

Now, as Jim praised the event, saying it was just the sort of thing that’s needed in small towns all across the country, Wright beamed.

If a movie inspires you to get up in the middle of a Koreatown steakhouse and do the robot with your waiter, isn’t that worthy of some kind of award, even if it’s not an Oscar?

I’m Glenn Whipp, columnist for the Los Angeles Times and host of The Envelope newsletter. Let’s talk about “The Life of Chuck,” the latest Stephen King adaptation, a film possessing the pedigree of an Oscar best picture contender.

Can ‘Chuck’ extend Toronto’s Oscar streak?

The last 12 movies to win the Toronto International Film Festival’s People’s Choice Award have gone on to earn an Oscar nomination for best picture. It’s a list that includes eventual Oscar winners like “12 Years a Slave,” “Green Book” and “Nomadland.” Two years ago, Cord Jefferson’s “American Fiction” premiered at Toronto and parlayed the momentum from its People’s Choice prize into an adapted screenplay victory for Jefferson.

Suffice it to say, it’s a prime precursor.

Which makes the arrival of “The Life of Chuck,” last year’s People’s Choice winner, all the more of a curiosity. Neon, the indie studio behind best picture winners “Anora” and “Parasite,” bought the film out of Toronto after it won the award, voted on by festivalgoers. With not enough time to craft a marketing or awards season campaign, the studio slotted the movie for the summer of 2025. It opens in limited release today — you can find it in five theaters in the Los Angeles area — and will expand nationwide next week.

“The Life of Chuck,” adapted from a 50-page Stephen King story published in 2020, is feel-good tale about the end of the world. It is indeed about the life of Chuck, a prototypical King everyman, an ordinary accountant we don’t meet until the the second part of the movie’s backward-moving triptych. But we know about him because in the film’s opening section, the one with the world ending and California tumbling into the sea (Steely Dan was right!), Earth’s inhabitants are inundated with baffling billboards and ads featuring a picture of Chuck, thanking him for 39 great years.

We eventually learn that Chuck, played as an adult by Tom Hiddleston, is a remarkable dancer and has lived a life filled with loss. In between the tragedies, there were moments of pure, unadulterated joy. The movie, faithfully adapted and competently directed by Mike Flanagan (the man behind Netflix’s “The Haunting of Hill House” and other horror tales), wants to leave you with the message that such moments are enough. And also to remind you that when these occasions come, we should recognize them and store them away as found gold.

It’s an original story arriving in a summer movie landscape dominated by sequels and retreads. Call it counterprogramming. Critics have been split, which isn’t surprising. You either suspend disbelief and settle into this movie’s vibe or you find yourself unmoved and checking the time, thinking that, in the momentary pleasure department, a root beer float would go down easier. I liked it well enough, but given the choice, I’d probably opt for the ice cream.

For “The Life of Chuck” to be an awards season play, moviegoers will need to fall for it as hard as audiences did at Toronto. That feels like a long shot, though maybe the film’s sweetness and optimism will resonate in the current moment. Times film critic Amy Nicholson was mixed on the movie and yet, as I mentioned at the outset, it did make her “make magic out of the mundane” and boogie with a waiter. She sent me the video. Don’t let her tell you otherwise … she’s a dancing machine.

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Since I’m being a little wistful here, let me call your attention to a recent column I wrote about the late, great Linda Lavin, a singular talent who never won an Emmy.

That may surprise you, particularly if you were around when Lavin headlined the long-running CBS sitcom “Alice,” in which she played a widowed mom working as a waitress while pursuing her dream of singing. The series ran from 1976 to 1985, piling up more than 200 episodes, a spinoff for Polly Holliday (Flo, the “kiss my grits” sass-flinger) and a lasting reputation for presenting an early, understated feminist role model. Alice wasn’t nearly as brash as Bea Arthur’s Maude or quite as lovable as Jean Stapleton’s Edith Bunker, but like her contemporary Mary Tyler Moore, she could turn the world on with her smile.

Lavin, who died in December at 87, did earn two Golden Globes for the role and, after “Alice” ended, she won a Tony Award in 1987 for lead actress in a play for her turn as a Jewish mother navigating a changing world in Neil Simon’s “Broadway Bound.”

“It was one of the greatest stage performances I have ever seen, and I told her that the first day I met her,” says Nathan Lane, who had the opportunity to share his enthusiasm with Lavin when they worked together on the Hulu sitcom “Mid-Century Modern.” Lane recalls watching the play and choking up when Lavin absent-mindedly wiped off a phone receiver — her character was always cleaning — right after a wrenching phone call.

“She could do anything and make it look effortless,” Lane says. “Working with her was the happiest experience I’ve ever had in television.”

In Emmy history, 33 actors — 22 men and 11 women — have been posthumously nominated. Most recently, Treat Williams earned a nod last year for his supporting turn in the FX limited series “Feud: Capote vs. the Swans.” Ray Liotta was nominated in 2023 in the same category for “Black Bird.” And in 1978, Will Geer received three posthumous nominations, including his last season on “The Waltons.” (He lost all three.)

Lavin has a legitimate case. She elevates “Mid-Century Modern” every time she’s onscreen with her vitality and comic timing. In April, she picked up a comedy supporting actress nod from the Gotham Television Awards.

You can read the entire column, which includes some terrific stories from “Mid-Century Modern” showrunners Max Mutchnick and David Kohan, here.

Have a great weekend. Hope you find a moment to dance.

Read more of Glenn’s Emmys coverage