Ask female factory workers at Tuscarora Plastics here if they would change places with Roseanne Conner, the blue-collar heroine of the ABC sitcom, "Roseanne," and the "no's" come quicker than you can punch a time clock at shift's end.
"We don't have to trade places with her," explains Theresa McClusky, 45, of Dundalk, Md. "We are her."Let Ms. McClusky count the ways. There is Roseanne's flannel shirt, her aversion to housecleaning, her love of a good game of bowling and a cold beer.
That kinship helps explain why Ms. McClusky, as well as many other female blud-collar workers, tune in Tuesday nights to share a laugh with the indefatigable wife, mother and factory worker whose comedy is of the queen-size variety. The show has attracted viewers in such numbers that it has consistently finished in the Top 10 Nielsen ratings since premiering in the fall.
"I like her because she's not perfect," says Pamela Leisinger, international representative for the United Auto, Agricultural Implement, and Aerospace Workers in Detroit.
"I enjoy 'Designing Women,' like 'Kate and Allie' and laugh hysterically at 'Murphy Brown,' but none of these women's lives are anywhere near mine...'Roseanne' seems very real to me."
So real, in fact, many blue-collar women who watch the show--as well as other viewers who simply relate to the character's struggle to balance work and family--often experience a serious case of deja vu.
In a recent groundbreaking episode, Roseanne's 11-year-old daughter Darlene began her menstral cycle. "I put my daughter who's 10 in front of the TV, and we watched it together," says Dottie Jones, assistant director of the UAW's Women's Department. "This is the kind of thing mothers struggle with. And the father's reaction was typical when he said, 'Way to go, kid.'...Isn't that real life?
In delivering a real slice of blue-collar life, "Roseanne," say her fans, tells it like it is.
"I put in eight hours a day at the factory, and then I come home and put in another eight hours...And you don't do nothin'!" Roseanne scolds her husband Dan, who works infrequently as an independent contractor.
When he volunteers to fix dinner, she coos, "Oh, but honey, you fixed dinner three years ago."
"Mom, I got a knot in my shoe," laments her youngest child and only son D.J.
"Wear loafers," she replies.
But comedian-actress Roseanne Barr softens the sting in these zingers with a generous dose of motherly love. In real life the wife of a former postal worker who raised three children in the family's trailer home, she explained the premise for the show in The New York Times by saying, "I want to do a show that reflects how people really live...I want people to watch it and go 'Wow, that happens to me.'"
Former head writer and series creator Matt Williams, for whom realism was also a priority, last year traveled to two small Midwestern towns similar to the Conners' fictitious Lanford, Ill., and talked to nearly 50 working-class women about their lives. (He has since left the show, citing "creative tensions" with the star.)
" 'Roseanne' speaks to the class difference in a positive way," says Lee Levin, executive director of the New York-based Coalition of Labor Union Women. "On 'Roseanne' it's clear that these people don't have a lot of choices. They have to make the best of what they have. It's a breath of fresh air. Millions more people live like that. What 'Roseanne' shows is that even if you don't have what (the family on) 'The Cosby Show' has--and that's lots on money and choices--you can still be happy."
In the past, Ms. Levin adds, "Television tended not to portray blue-collar women at all or to portray them in silly ways, like in 'Laverne and Shirley,'"
Even its TV antecedents like "All in the Family" and "The Honeymooners," as well as Fox's current blue-collar sitcom, "Married...With Children," lapse into cliched portraits of the working class, she says.
" 'Roseanne' breaks through those stereotypes," says Ms. Levin. "The humor is poignant. It's real and based on respect."
Many women see an implicit message of hope in the show. After each episode, Glenda Strickland, a 48-year-old press operator and packer at Tuscarora Plastics, says she comes away believing, "You can make it if you try." So what if "making it" means living in a cluttered home where the furniture looks more worn than new and where the staircase is littered with toys, pillow and other debris of domestic life.
"The whole environment is very similar to what it's really like," Ms. Jones says. "I look at those livingroom settings and I have flashbacks. I see my living room. I'm not into decoratins...It has what you'd call a lived-in atmosphere."
Seeing that setting has made some women feel less embarrassed about their own imperfect homes. "It helps that they don't have a palace," says Deborah Duffy, 37, who works in the quality control department of Tuscarora Plastics. "It helps you not to worry about what other people think."
But Mark Crispin Miller, associate professor of the writing seminars at John Hopkins University and author of "Boxed In: The Culture of TV," believe that the show only skims the surface in portraying blue-collar America. "On the face of it, it has all the right touches," he says.
"If you only look at the superficial details of the setting, then the crusty cereal bowl and the crud on the stairs is going to seem like an improvement over the usual hygenic locale," he says. "...(But) I didn't see that it did anything different from other sitcoms. TV tends to make the weak and-or disenfranchised feel empowered by giving them comic versions of themselves who excel in putting others down. You take away the sarcasm (in "Roseanne") and there's nothing left but fat."
Ms. Leisinger defends the show: "I don't want it to be totally accurate. I want to be entertained. If it were totally accurate, it wouldn't be a comedy. It would be a drama."
Also comforting to many fans of the show is the rotund appearance of the star.
While the character's appearance and taste in home decor may win her some fans, many find the show's depiction of the foibles of family life its real strength.
When the three children aren't the focus, Roseanne and Dan--and family finances--usually are. Whether they're using a discount coupon to afford dinner at a restaurant or returning Dan's new loafers to buy Becky a dress for a school dance, the point's clear: The budget is tight.