As the author of the definitive history of the Emmy Awards, I hereby invoke my unofficial authority to write this open letter to Emmy's official princess, Candice Bergen, a five-time winner for "Murphy Brown" (a record for the most victories in a lead race) whose father, Edgar, the legendary ventriloquist, was the founding president of the original Academy of Television Arts & Sciences.

Dear Candice Bergen: Please step up and do what no one else can do — fix your father's house. You are needed now to save the Emmy Awards.

Back in 1977, the original TV academy, founded in 1947, split into two warring factions on separate coasts that have not stopped fighting since. Millions and millions have been wasted on too many law suits between the L.A.-based Academy of Television Arts & Sciences (which governs primetime Emmys) and the N.Y.-based National Academy of Television Arts & Sciences (daytime, news, sports, business Emmys plus administration of 20 local chapters that bestow awards to TV pros in Chicago, San Francisco and elsewhere) over 30 years. Just a few years ago they spent $400,000 in legal bills on a nasty, futile dogfight over the launch of Emmys for Hispanic TV that ended in a stalemate and probably killed the hope of ever creating the equivalent to the Latin Grammys.

Their most recent smackdown was over how to hail broadband programming. Several weeks ago, when a panel of judges sided with the West Coasters' drive to stop the Gothamites from proceeding solo, there was hope that the decision would force both sides to work together at last to face the challenge of how to fashion future Emmys to encompass all digital video, some perhaps even in the Spanish language. But now, in just the past few days, the feisty Easterners have petitioned the New York State Supreme Court to overturn the ruling in the aftermath of the Hollywooders trying to shut down NATAS' presentation of engineering Emmys in Las Vegas. Read Variety's report — click here.

Enough! This legal holocaust will never end on its own. Some neutral party must get tough and force both sides to do the right thing: talk to each other and find a way to merge these two TV academies back into one so that the fighting finally stops.

I believe that the only person with the clout to do so is you, Miss Bergen. Given the historic importance of your father, your own Emmy pedigree and the fact that you are not aligned to either coast (Miss Bergen has homes in both New York and Los Angeles), you are uniquely qualified to reach out to all warring parties.

Book a room upstairs at the Hollywood Athletic Club — site of the first Emmy ceremony — call both sides together, look them sternly in the eyes and tell them, "I have called you here to mend my father's house. It's time."

My own proposal is this: Recommend that both academies merge their governing bodies into one (NATAS' Board of Trustees and ATAS' Board of Governors) immediately under the name of the original Academy of Television Arts & Sciences and appoint a neutral, temporary chairman. I hope you would agree to take the post yourself, Miss Bergen. Make it clear: no preconditions. No negotiating. All nagging issues and details of what happens after that will be sorted out by the new governing body. If any topic is put on the table for negotiation beforehand, it'll shut down everything.

Years ago, after the death of NATAS president John Cannon — who squashed many past attempts to merge the academies — I made this petition to you, Miss Bergen, in the pages of Variety. The timing seemed perfect. You declined, politely. OK, I can understand why you didn't want to get involved, but the two parties have not sorted out this conflict on their own and now their war is nuclear.

And now it is up to you, I believe, to do your industry and family duty. If your dad was alive today, you know that he wouldn't permit this nonsense to continue. He would do what he did in the early days of TV when Hollywood was abuzz with the idea that maybe the emerging new industry should create television's equivalent to the Oscars. He would gather all sides in one place so they could find their way together. Back in 1947 it was in the studio offices he had across the street from the Hollywood Athletic Club where he struggled to launch a new children's TV show starring chicken puppets. Edgar liked to joke later in life that the only reason everyone turned to him as their first chief was because he had large enough quarters to accommodate them and a 40-cup coffeemaker. But that wasn't true. They deferred to him because he was one of the most respected people in showbiz — like you are today, Miss Bergen — and he knew how to manage that early contentious gang whenever they got heated. Edgar would interrupt them on the spot, wrap his hand in a handkerchief, flap his thumb and forefinger together like tiny jaws, creating an instant puppet character that made everyone laugh when they heard what it had to say.

It's time for you to summon your whole Emmy family together, Miss Bergen, right across the street at the athletic club where the early pioneers ended up when they introduced Emmy to the world. Both factions claim that they'd like to reunite, and indeed some past attempts to merge the two TV academies have come thisclose over 30 years, but fell apart for various reasons, all ridiculous. Now with you, a notable neutral person with historic importance and current clout presiding over a new effort in a new year, your family reunion might finally bring about lasting reunification.

Please bring a big coffeemaker — and Charlie McCarthy, too.