Angela Lansbury and My Teen Love Affair with a 58-Year-Old Woman

Discovering her magnificent career in reverse

Smiling at my gal Angela from the opening credits of Murder, She Wrote | Photo by Joe Guay

On the playground the boys are powwowing on important topics — arguments on Return of the Jedi (now out on VHS), the best stunt on The A-Team, or what it’d be like to own a talking car like on Knight Rider.

Aaron is obsessed with Daisy Duke and those smokin’ short shorts.

Billy is developing a crush on Alyssa Milano on Who’s The Boss.

Ryan’s pontificating on Madonna having “nice tits.”

I want to contribute, but I don’t dare. I have an obsession, it’s a woman, but nope, they’ll never understand — it’s just “that old lady” on Murder, She Wrote, and I can’t get enough after my discovery of Angie.

Leaning a bit too close to the TV during the Murder, She Wrote opening | Photo by Joe Guay

Oh, those glorious Sunday nights before the next school week.

I was in my murder mystery phase. I’d bought and enjoyed every hardcover Hardy Boy mystery — the blue ones, you’ve seen them in many a thrift store. I’d matured into Agatha Christie and was slowly making my way through her plethora of classics when CBS delivered a comfort-food murder mystery…