11/12/2025
He called his wife "the most beautiful animal I own" on live TV—and she stood up mid-show, said "Excuse me, I have to leave," and walked off the set.
No shouting. No lecture. Just quiet dignity walking away from casual misogyny.
The year was 1973. The show was The Dick Cavett Show—one of the biggest talk shows on television. And the woman who walked off?
Lily Tomlin. Age 34. Already a star. About to become a legend.
The Moment
Picture this: Late night television, 1973. Lily Tomlin is a guest on The Dick Cavett Show, riding high on her success from Laugh-In, where her characters—snarky telephone operator Ernestine and wise-cracking five-year-old Edith Ann—have made her a household name.
Sitting next to her is Chad Everett, a handsome TV actor known for playing doctors and cowboys. Cavett asks Everett about his life. Everett smiles that charming Hollywood smile.
"I have a beautiful wife, three dogs, and three horses," he says.
Then, casually, like it's the most normal thing in the world:
"My wife is the most beautiful animal I own."
The studio audience laughs uncomfortably. Cavett looks awkward. The cameras keep rolling.
And Lily Tomlin—who'd been sitting quietly—goes completely still.
"Excuse me," she says calmly. "I have to leave."
And she stands up. Live television. Cameras rolling. Millions watching.
And walks off the set.
No explanation. No dramatic speech. Just a woman refusing to sit next to casual misogyny with a polite smile.
"I felt angels walked me off that set," she said later. "It wasn't planned. It was instinct. I couldn't sit there and pretend it was okay for him to call his wife an animal he owned."
The walkout became instant feminist legend. Newspapers covered it. Women's groups celebrated it. And Lily Tomlin became more than a comedian—she became a symbol of women refusing to play nice with men who saw them as property.
But here's what most people don't know: that walkout was just the beginning of a lifetime spent refusing to play by anyone else's rules.
The Girl from Detroit
Mary Jean "Lily" Tomlin was born in 1939 in Detroit. Working-class family. Factory worker father. Nurse's aide mother. The kind of poor where you learned to be funny because laughter was free.
She was smart, weird, and observant—the kid who'd do impressions of neighbors, invent characters, perform one-woman shows for anyone who'd watch.
She moved to New York after high school to pursue acting. Waited tables. Performed in comedy clubs. Slowly built a reputation as someone who didn't just imitate people—she inhabited them, exposing their humanity and absurdity.
In 1969, she landed Laugh-In—the groundbreaking sketch comedy show. And America met Ernestine, the nasal telephone operator who mocked corporate bureaucracy:
"Is this the party to whom I am speaking?"
And Edith Ann, the five-year-old in an oversized rocking chair, dispensing wisdom:
"And that's the truth!" [raspberry]
These weren't just funny characters. They were sharp social commentary disguised as comedy. Ernestine exposed corporate cruelty. Edith Ann revealed adult hypocrisy through a child's eyes.
Lily wasn't just making people laugh. She was making them think.
By the early 1970s, she was one of the biggest stars in comedy. Emmy Awards. Sold-out Broadway shows. Grammy-winning comedy albums.
But she was also hiding something.
The Secret
In 1971, Lily met Jane Wagner—a writer and director. They began collaborating professionally on Lily's material.
And then they fell in love.
This was 1971. Being openly gay could destroy your career—especially for a woman in Hollywood. Especially for someone as visible as Lily Tomlin.
So they kept their relationship private. Not secret—friends and colleagues knew—but not public. Jane wrote Lily's best material, including her Broadway shows and The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe (which won Lily a Tony).
They were partners—creatively and romantically. For 42 years.
But the world didn't know.
In 1980, Lily starred in 9 to 5 alongside Jane Fonda and Dolly Parton—a comedy about three women fighting back against their s*xist boss. It became one of the highest-grossing comedies of all time.
The message was clear: women were done being secretaries, s*x objects, and second-class citizens.
Off-screen, Lily was living that message but couldn't say it out loud.
She was nominated for an Oscar for Nashville (1975) and again for Short Cuts (1993). Never won. But she won six Emmys, two Tonys, a Grammy. One competitive award away from an EGOT.
But more importantly, she was building a legacy of characters that gave voice to women society ignored: working-class women, older women, weird women, angry women.
Women who refused to be beautiful animals anyone owned.
The Coming Out
In 2013, same-s*x marriage became legal in California.
On New Year's Eve—at age 74—Lily Tomlin and Jane Wagner got married after 42 years together.
It wasn't flashy. Just the two of them, a friend, and a justice of the peace in a friend's living room.
But it was everything.
A year later, Lily publicly confirmed what many had suspected: she was gay. She'd been with Jane for over four decades. And she was done being quiet about it.
"I wasn't closeted," she explained. "I just didn't talk about it. But now I want young LGBTQ+ people to know: you can be successful. You can be happy. You can be loved. And you don't have to hide."
At 76, she co-starred in Grace and Frankie—a Netflix series about two women whose husbands leave them for each other. The show ran for seven seasons, becoming Netflix's longest-running original series at the time.
And Lily—at an age when most actors are retired—was playing a woman discovering herself, finding love, and refusing to accept society's limits on who older women could be.
The Legacy
Today, Lily Tomlin is 85 years old.
She's still performing. Still fighting for LGBTQ+ rights, women's rights, social justice.
She never won that competitive Oscar (though she received an Honorary Academy Award in 2017, presented by her friend and 9 to 5 co-star Jane Fonda).
But she won something more important: respect, longevity, and a legacy of refusing to be anything but herself.
From walking off The Dick Cavett Show in 1973 because a man called his wife property...
To spending 42 years in a relationship she couldn't publicly acknowledge...
To coming out at 74 and marrying the love of her life...
To starring in a hit show at 84...
Lily Tomlin has spent her entire life saying the same thing:
"I won't sit quietly. I won't smile politely. I won't pretend to be less than I am."
What She Taught Us
Here's what makes Lily's story so powerful:
That walkout in 1973 wasn't just about one s*xist comment. It was about every time women are expected to laugh along with their own dehumanization. To be polite. To not make waves.
Lily stood up and walked away. And in doing so, she gave millions of women permission to do the same.
Her 42-year relationship with Jane wasn't tragic closeting. It was survival in an industry that would have destroyed her for being openly gay. And when it became safe enough, she stepped into the light—not for herself, but to show LGBTQ+ youth that you can build a life, a career, a love that lasts.
At 85, she's still working because she loves the work. Still fighting because the work isn't done.
She created characters that made people laugh while making them uncomfortable—Ernestine mocking corporate America, Edith Ann exposing adult hypocrisy.
She walked off sets when men treated women like property.
She loved Jane Wagner for 42 years in private, then married her in public when the world finally caught up.
She played women—working-class, older, weird, angry—who refused to be invisible.
1973 to 2025
In 1973, an actor called his wife "the most beautiful animal I own."
Lily Tomlin stood up, said "Excuse me, I have to leave," and walked off the set.
That moment is frozen in feminist history—a woman refusing to accept casual misogyny with a polite smile.
But what happened after that moment matters more:
52 years of standing up. 52 years of refusing to be less than she was. 52 years of creating art that challenged people to think differently.
52 years with Jane by her side.
She's 85 now. Still performing. Still fighting. Still proving that you don't have to choose between authenticity and success—you just have to be brave enough to walk away from anyone who tells you you're property.
Every time a woman walks away from a conversation where she's being dehumanized—she's channeling Lily Tomlin.
Every LGBTQ+ person who comes out despite the risks—they're following Lily's path.
Every older woman who refuses to be invisible—they're living Lily's legacy.
She walked off that set in 1973.
And she's been walking forward ever since—with Jane, with dignity, with humor, with rage when necessary and grace when possible.
The most beautiful animal no one will ever own.
Because Lily Tomlin taught us: You don't belong to anyone but yourself.
And sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is stand up and walk away.
