Read this post this morning from my morning blogs reads...

Brett Somers died. I never knew why she was on the Match Game; she seemed like some strange dangerous aunt your mother never wants to invite over but could not avoid. She wasn’t funny; she wore Kim Jung-Il glasses; she settled the question of what a woman of a Certain Age would look like in a Dorothy Hamill haircut, she brayed out every sentence, would periodically become dimly aware of the presence of Charles Nelson Reilly next to her and slap him with a card, and seemed one highball away from falling backwards off the stage. You suspect that the area behind her riser had mattresses and pillows. But it would not have been the Match Game without her, and that’s enough to make us doff hats and play the theme in remembrance.

I think I'll have a Tab with 7 in rememberance.