Single Moms, Hillary’s Cookies and ‘Murphy Brown’

For Dan Quayle, it would have been one of the worst places to watch television Monday night: a Mt. Washington living room full of Murphy Browns--30-something Murphy Browns, grandma Murphy Browns, lesbian Murphy Browns.

The single moms had gathered to watch their fictional counterpart rebut the vice president’s statements, that Murphy Brown’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy mocked the importance of fathers and glamorized single motherhood at a time when the “breakdown of family structure” is causing “lawless social anarchy.”

Not surprisingly, the women had some words for Quayle, as they snacked on Hillary Clinton cookies and chomped on “Murphy brownies.”

He’s been pampered and protected all his life. What does he know?

This from Virginia Armon, who was raised by a single mother, became one herself and then watched her daughter follow the family tradition.

I don’t think people make these choices (to become single parents) lightly . I was a pregnancy counselor at Planned Parenthood for four years and I know the majority struggle with their decisions.

So said Mary Ann Aronsohn, a divorced mom sitting on the porch, playing with her toddler son.

I get really angry that somebody should tell me what family values are.

That was single mom Laura Walker, daughter of a single father.

Pat Griffith, who hosted the “Murphy Brown Night,” said she wanted to give her single friends and acquaintances a chance to show pride in their families--and make a political statement. (The idea for “Murphy Brown parties” came from the Clinton presidential campaign, she said, and Clinton placards and bumper stickers were on sale at a table in the back of the house.)

“Single moms are pretty faceless,” said Griffith, a married mother and child-care activist. “They don’t have a lot of free time to make themselves heard . . . (and) they tend to not have much money, so they’re easy prey (for politicians).”

The call went out and the mothers came.

It’s real nice to be around people in a similar situation.

They say that women anywhere in the world can relate to each other because of children.

At 9 p.m., Murphy, played by Candice Bergen, takes up their cause. When her baby wakes up crying, she asks if he dreamed Pat Buchanan was hiding under the crib. Quayle is the next target: “What planet is he on?”

The L. A. moms hoot and clap, but the anti-Republican jibes are lost on their children, who sit on the floor playing that most capitalist of games, Monopoly.

Outside, the lights of Dodger Stadium and downtown twinkle in the distance.

Murphy continues: “Perhaps it’s time for the vice president to . . . recognize that, whether by choice or by circumstance, families come in all shapes and sizes. And ultimately what really defines a family is commitment, caring and love.”

It’s what the women have been saying all evening:

People are single for a variety of reasons. It’s not a choice. It’s just the way it happened.

And that means baby-sitters and baths and bedtimes to take care of. Most of the women leave as soon as the show is over.

The vice president held a press conference after he watched the show in Washington D. C. He said his original remarks had been misinterpreted. “I have never criticized single mothers,” he insisted.

Quayle had watched the show with another, presumably friendlier, group of unmarried mothers.

“Hollywood still doesn’t get it,” he said.

Some of the moms at Pat Griffith’s think Quayle doesn’t get it. If he thinks life should be like Ozzie and Harriet, he should think again, says Ann Tyron:

I grew up with Ozzie and Harriet. But Ozzie didn’t have a job. And little Ricky died in a plane crash with cocaine on board. So much for family values.

RELATED STORY: F1