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If anyone has any further info on Jan, pictures I can post, or if (God help me) Jan herself runs across this page, please let me know. This page has the distinction of being the only Jan Smithers page on the Web (I think), so by definition it's the best. Let's keep it that way. Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer One of my favorite WKRP episodes was the one where a Russian diplomat, played by the wonderful Michael Pataki, asks for political asylum in the WKRP lobby. (You may remember Pataki from his cool performance as a Klingon in "The Trouble with Tribbles: "I didn't mean to say that the Enterprise should be hauling garbage," he hissed, ". . . it should be hauled away . . . as garbage!") Being no dummy (after all, chess is a spectator sport in Russia), he falls for our Bailey. In the final scene, where he has apparently changed his mind and is leaving for home in a blaze of socialist rhetoric, he catches Bailey's eye and whispers, "Hold me closer, tiny dancer," from the Elton John song, to signify that he is not really reconstructed, merely biding his time. The final shot is of the night skyline of Cincinnati, while Elton sings the song. "Tiny Dancer" has ever since haunted me, and every time I hear it, I think of Jan, a "blue jean baby/L.A. lady" if ever there was one. And, of course, we can't forget Gordon Jump and his classic line, the most famous WKRP quote: "As God is my witness . . . I thought turkeys could fly." Jan vs. Bailey -- a Philosophical Question Of course, in worshiping Jan, one runs into the Zen-like question of who or what we are actually obsessing over. All we know of Jan Smithers is her role as Bailey, something that she did almost 30 years ago. Fans never know anything of those they are fans of; all celebrity worship is by it's very nature unnatural. (OJ and Michael Jackson fans were always my favorite, claiming that "my Michael" or "my OJ" could never have done these horrible things, when anyone with a gram and a half of brain cells could see that these celebrities are some very twisted individuals.) The fact that some of us liked, indeed loved, Bailey as she was portrayed on WKRP doesn't mean that we could stand spending ten minutes with Jan Smithers. But being a celebrity means that the two get blurred together. What would Jan think of this page? I picture her drinking her morning coffee in her house somewhere, getting the kid off to school, when a friend or relative calls up and tells her that some nerdball on the Internet has started a fan page about her. She fires up her browser, and tracks it down. . . . I imagine she would be appalled. Some old photos and a faulty assumption that Bailey Quarters is Jan Smithers. How would you like to be judged by, the sum total of your existence reduced to, one such event in your life? She must already be resigned to the fact that for the rest of her life, people will think of her as Bailey Quarters, that the first line in her obituary will have "WKRP" in it. But to have it raised again like this . . . So, Jan, forgive me for presuming. We loved what we knew of Bailey, and we might love you, too. And Finally . . . The "Who Would You Do" Question I propose that "Jennifer or Bailey?" is a much more telling test than the standard "Ginger or Mary Ann?" question. Mary Ann may have been a farm girl, but she was a bad farm girl. (Look how tight those damn gingham dresses are on her.) Six months in LA, and she'd be Ginger. Bailey, however, could never be Jennifer. Only trust those who answer "Bailey" to the above question. (Of course, we'll pass over the "Betty vs. Veronica" question. I always
figured Archie was getting some from both of them.) Thanks to the webmaster at Girls with
Glasses for the great scans of Jan from the recent E! reruns of WKRP. Check out
his site for all the GWGs you can stand.
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Yep, it's Jan Smithers, who
played the touchingly shy and neurotic Bailey Quarters on the wonderful sitcom 
I don't know very
much about Jan's private life. She was born in North Hollywood on July 3, 1949, and was
married to James Brolin for some years. (He's now married to, of all people, Barbra
Streisand, and I've been seeing him a lot more on TV lately.) 
Her first claim to fame was
a picture on the cover of a 1966 Newsweek, for a story on rebellious youth.
According to those who have seen it, she was sitting on the back of a motorcycle, looking
over her shoulder at the camera. (Keep clicking - it's a few pages deep in here.) Her connection with motorcycles also led to an accident which left her with the
slight winsome scar on her chin. 
Her film career has been,
well, a little lackluster. Her 
When producer/creator Hugh
Wilson was casting the pilot for WKRP, he made some inspired decisions, like
offering the Johnny Fever role to Howard Hesseman, who had originally read for the Herb
Tarlek part. But his casting of Jan was a no-brainer. "All the other actresses played
shy," he said. "Jan was shy." 
Why does Jan do it for me?
Well, in addition to being simply beautiful, the glasses play a big part. I have always
had an attraction for four-eyed women, and thinking about it now, I think that I got it
from Bailey. (It's a chicken-and-egg question.) We all have our "types," a
physical ideal we pick up from God knows where, against which we judge everyone we meet.
Bailey was "my type" so exactly that for the last twenty years, I get a twinge
in my heart whenever I see someone who even slightly resembles her. 
We tend to think of women
with glasses as "plain," in the sense that they have surrendered conventional
beauty for the utility of being able to see better. The stereotype that women with glasses
are smarter than others is also at work here -- I'll take brains over most everything else
every time. I've always been a sucker for the almost obligatory scene in old movies where
the "right hand gal" type, the smart one (Jean Arthur or Barbara Bel Geddes
spring to mind), whips off her glasses and our hero, catching his breath, blurts out,
"Why, Betty . . . you're beautiful!" (The absolute best such scene:
Dorothy Malone in "The Big Sleep." Oh, my God . . . ) 
John Updike once wrote about
plain, unadorned, natural women being "juicier" than the more conventionally
attractive types, and as time has passed I have learned the great wisdom of that
observation. All my best nights have been with librarians. None of them, unfortunately,
have been with Jan Smithers. 