The Happy Grownup

To the people who work for her, Cathy Hughes is known as the Queen, Her Majesty, or simply Miss. H.You may not recognize her name, but there’s a damn good chance you have connected with at least one channel of the extraordinary communications corporation that she founded 45 years ago. Starting with one lone radio station in Washington, D.C., Miss Hughes soon expanded her reach with an insinuating late-night format that instantly became the soundtrack for millions of us during the ‘70s when we wanted to turn the lights down low. The Quiet Storm featured nonstop R&B and soul music by artists like Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross, and Teddy Pendergrass at their most sultry and hip-grinding best. Spurred by that success, Hughes founded Radio One, now renamed Urban One, which commands over 60 radio and television stations across the United States, the most prominent distributor of lifestyle information and music content for African Americans and people of color. In 1999, Ms. Hughes became the first woman of color to take her company public. She is an inspiring entrepreneur, educator, musical visionary, force for social good, and a paramount example of self-reliance, resilience, and guts. Our Happy Grownup friend, Aaron Walton says that Kathy’s energy is so constant and formidable that she can make you feel like the laziest person on earth. So with the risk of falling into that demoralized state, I am delighted to welcome this cultural powerhouse, Miss Cathy Hughes.

From the first time I ever saw Jerry Mitchell in the 1991 musical Will Rogers Follies – he was the Indian of the Dawn, barely dressed in a loincloth on an elevated drum – there’s been one through line in his career as a Tony-winning choreographer for Hairspray, The Full Monty, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, La Cage aux Folles, and then as a Tony-winning director-choreographer for Legally Blonde, Kinky Boots, On Your Feet!, Pretty Woman, Boop!, and the musical adaptation of The Devil Wears Prada that’s now playing in London. Every single one of them, without exception, has been designed to make you happy. Actually, not just happy – you’re supposed to walk out of the theater joyful. Jerry has taken this mission upon himself, like Evillene says in The Wiz, “don’t bring me no bad news.” This week on the podcast we’ll find out the reason he has such an obsession with making everyone so goddam happy.

I will forever be indebted to today’s guest. In fact, because of Winnie Holzman’s startling talent, I have been changed for good. Because on no less than four distinct occasions, her enviable ear for the nuances of speech and behavior have crafted stories that have left me drop-jawed, moved, and entertained. First, Winnie was one of the writers of thirtysomething, one of the few TV series that has ever gotten as deeply under the skin of my generation. If you match the ages of the cast, you watched this show swearing Winnie had been hiding under your bed, eavesdropping on all your dates, arguments, and therapy sessions as you tried to navigate your life and loves during what I found to be my most complicated decade. Then, though My So-Called Life lasted only 19 episodes, no TV series has ever nailed teenage yearning as aptly. Those years propelled by angst and the desperate quest for happiness, colliding with feelings of rebellion, insecurity generated by the need to be noticed, and of course, non-stop sexual frustration and confusion. 30 years later, my so-called life remains eerily valid. You can catch it on Hulu. You really should. Finally, and most gloriously, Winnie Holzman has dominated our holiday season for two years running because she not only wrote the book to that little musical that will never close called Wicked, but she and Dana Fox adapted Gregory Maguire’s novel to co-author the screenplays to the first film and its sequel. Combined, they are a glorious testimony to the power of friendship, individuality, and the magic that happens when you defy gravity. Right now, Winnie Holzman doesn’t need Glinda’s help to be popular, which is why I am over the rainbow to have her here on The Happy Grownup.

Maybe the only person I know who loves movies more than me is Dave Karger, the host of Turner Classic Movies. His knowledge of film first surfaced as film savant for Entertainment Weekly and is now featured in his most recent book 50 Oscar Nights (Running Press, 2024). If you love movies, whether you watch them on the big screen in the dark (where you should be) or on the small screen from your couch (where probably are) you will relish Karger’s enthusiasm, insight and wit for movies both past and present. If you can recall, and have watched, such gems like Some Like it Hot, Gilda, Laura, and All About Eve, you are in for a treat. If you can’t, Karger will make you want to watch them after you hear him.

I’ve always thought that eating is the most fun you can have with your clothes on. Well, it’s not so bad with your clothes off either. But for as much as I’ve enjoyed and I’m grateful for a career writing about both food and fashion, food does something that fashion doesn’t. It engages all of your senses. I’ve never understood anyone who just eats to live. I mean, like, what’s wrong with you? For me, having a passion for what sustains and soothes us is just one of life’s great delights.And there is no one, absolutely no one, who writes about this big love with more relish, passion, warmth, insight, and more consistent and healing joy than Ruth Reichl. Though Ruth is probably best known to many as the former legendary and mysteriously dressed restaurant critic for the New York Times, and later as the editor-in-chief of Gourmet magazine. You have to read Ruth when she is writing just feet from her kitchen or strolling through a green market to be swept away by her unabashed delight being inspired by the sight of a ruby red rhubarb or chopping up her own steak to make hamburger meat.It’s not just that her writing makes you hungry. She reminds you of the wonder of nature, of the incredible alchemy of cooking, of the immediate satisfaction of creating something delicious and then the magic that happens when you share it with others. Reading Comfort Me With Apples, Garlic and Sapphires, and Tender at the Bone. Damn, I even love the book titles. You can’t help but be seduced by her into believing that food is an endless and uplifting adventure. And if it results in any longing, it’s only because you are not sitting at her table when she serves you her carbonara. I am just tickled that she is here with me this week.