A little while ago, I was talking with my pal Richard Howell about our pal Jim Mooney, who passed away yesterday. (As a point of info: Jim's last regular assignment in comics was inking Soulsearchers, which Richard edited for Claypool Comics.) We were discussing what a great guy Jim was and how he drew so many of our favorite comics...and I remembered something I oughta mention here. One of those personal notes...
I have eighty quadrillion comic books and I don't know what the first one I owned or read was. Probably something Disney. But I do remember the first super-hero type comic I read. I first learned of this guy Superman on the TV series starring George Reeves and then I traded a duplicate issue of something Disney to a friend of mine for a comic with Superman in it. It was Action Comics #250, cover dated March of 1959. I probably got my mitts on it in late 1960 or early '61.
The lead story was a Superman tale written (I later learned) by Bill Finger and drawn by Wayne Boring. In the back were two short stories — an adventure of Congorilla, a strip which even insulted my intelligence at that age, plus a tale of a spaceman named Tommy Tomorrow. That was my favorite story in the issue and it was drawn by Jim Mooney. In a way, he was my first favorite artist.
One of the most prolific artists to ever draw comic books, Jim Mooney, passed away in Florida on Sunday. He was born in 1919 and had been in failing health for some time, especially since the passing of his wife Anne in 2005.
Reared in Los Angeles, Mooney moved to New York in 1940 and was a part of the comic book industry almost from its inception. His first job was probably drawing The Moth, a Batman imitation for Fox Publication's Mystery Men, and he worked for the legendary Eisner-Iger shop which he soon left, he said, because he was intimidated by how good all the other artists there were. He next worked for Fiction House and began freelancing for Stan Lee at Timely Comics (later Marvel), starting an association that lasted on and off for the next half-century. At first, he drew funny animal strips but Lee soon found that Mooney, along with being very dependable, was kind of a utility infielder who could do a little of everything. He was especially good at drawing cute ladies and a lot of his assignments were chosen with that in mind. (Asked how he drew such beautiful women, he usually pointed out that his sister had been a Ziegfeld Girl so he often found himself around lovely ladies.)
Around 1946, he began getting work from DC, where the editors were so impressed with his work on The Moth and other Batman imitations that they hired him to draw Batman. He was one of many artists whose work appeared on that strip under the signature of Bob Kane, though he never actually worked for Kane. For DC he did many other strips, including Tommy Tomorrow, The Legion of Super Heroes and the Superman-Batman team-ups in World's Finest Comics, but his two most famous runs were on Dial H For Hero, which appeared in House of Mystery in the sixties, and his long stint as the artist on Supergirl in Action Comics.
For those who grew up reading comics in the sixties, Mooney was the Supergirl artist. He was assigned to the strip for the most prosaic of reasons — her strip replaced the Tommy Tomorrow strip in Action Comics, and it was easier on the schedule to keep the same artist on that slot. Al Plastino drew the first installment but Jim took over after, making the character his own and drawing her from 1959 to 1968. During much of this time, he lived back in Los Angeles, managing an antiquarian bookstore on Hollywood Boulevard and drawing pages there when he wasn't waiting on customers. At one point, he hired some young art students to help around the store and they occasionally inked backgrounds for him, as well.
By '68, he'd moved back to New York, just in time to quarrel with DC editor Mort Weisinger, who was seeking a "fresher, more modern" look for the Superman-affiliated titles. Mooney phoned his old boss, Stan Lee, and the timing couldn't have been better. Marvel was on the verge of expanding and Stan needed new artists. He especially needed someone who could get the right look on Spider-Man, and that's what Mooney wound up doing primarily for the next few years. At first, he inked the pencil art of John Romita or finished rough layouts. Later, he pencilled Spider-Man stories himself, and also branched out to other strips, working on almost everything Marvel then published at one time or another. He enjoyed an especially fruitful collaboration with writer Steve Gerber, with whom he did Man-Thing and Omega the Unknown.
Jim was so reliable that Marvel didn't hesitate when in 1975, he asked for a contract that would guarantee him steady assignments if he moved to Florida. It turned out to be a ten year deal and after its expiration, he cut back on his work, freelancing when he felt like it for Marvel and occasionally for DC and even several independents. Comic historians have been known to debate who, in the history of the form, worked on more pages of comic art...and while names like Jack Kirby and Gil Kane and Curt Swan are often mentioned, I sure wouldn't bet against Mooney.
In semi-retirement, Jim began making the rounds of the comic conventions, appearing on panels and selling re-creations of some of his most famous covers and pages. We became good friends and I always enjoyed his company. I remember the four of us — he and Anne, Carolyn and me — spending an evening at a lovely seafood restaurant in Seattle with an ocean view. We got to the table just as the sun was setting over the water and it was just spectacular. Jim joked, "It's so frustrating. No matter how hard we try, none of us will ever draw anything a thousandth as beautiful as that." Maybe not...but measured against his peers, Jim Mooney did just fine.
Slate is running a series of articles under the umbrella title, "Fixing It." They're about how to repair the damages done to the world by the Bush administration. And first up, we get two (well, one and a half) Fred Kaplan articles. In this one, he lays down some proposals for putting U.S. diplomacy on the right track. And he co-authored this one, which is about what needs to be done to get our military back to where we want it in terms of size and budget and efficiency.
Whether you agree with Mr. Kaplan or not, these are the kinds of plans I'd love to hear all the candidates weigh in upon. Instead of just saying over and over they'll restore America's honor, I'd like to see them write with at least this level of specifics if not a greater one, how they figure to restore military enlistment and other concerns that need to be put right.
Thanks to about a third of the Internet for suggesting The Jitterbug as the phone I want to get for my mother. Robert Spina was the first one in with the nomination so he gets thanked by name. For the rest of you, we have lovely parting gifts, a copy of the home game and this much anonymous gratitude.
I got a few non-Jitterbug recommendations and I'm going to look into them and then decide. I'll report back on what I learn because it seems like I'm far from the only one with an elderly parent who needs a cell phone for emergencies.
Laura Gjovaag had this to say in a message I received yesterday...
My husband and I live in the Seattle area which has no Souplantation or Sweet Tomatoes restaurants. However, my husband was called to do the Jeopardy tryouts in Portland Oregon on March 29th. Lucky for us, you reminded us of the Creamy Tomato Soup the Thursday before, and we found a restaurant practically on our way in Vancouver Washington (that's the closest one to us!).
Well, we stopped on the way back and both tried the soup. It was excellent. I think I liked it more than my husband, but he doesn't particularly like tomatoes anyway, and he still liked the soup. I had two bowls, and totally broke my diet for the day (which is ok, I recover quickly from such disaster days).
Anyway, when we told them we were first-timers they gave us each a survey card, and we were sure to mention why we drove 200 miles to get to their restaurant and ask that the soup be served full-time.
I'll be blogging about the whole trip over on my blog in the next day or so, but I thought you'd like to know. You converted two more.
And you can read Laura's blog over the next day or so at this link. It's always well worth a click.
Not to talk this Creamy Tomato Soup thing to death — and yes, I know I passed that stage long ago — but I went in on Saturday for a couple of bowls and I also had a mission. Souplantation doesn't give out their recipes but they do have a book you can inspect that lists all the ingredients in each of their prepared items. I decided I'd find out what was in their Creamy Tomato Soup and then, if it didn't seem too complicated, I might try to figure out my own recipe for it.
I asked, every so politely and a nice lady hauled out the book, showed me the list...and right there, I thought, "Well, let's give up on that idea." There were about forty components and even if I'd been able to remember them all and jot them down, I'm not going to try to cook something with that many ingredients. Not only would it be too labor-intensive to gather them all but I'd have too many variables. If it was just tomato paste, carrots, celery, chicken stock and whipping cream, fine. I could experiment with the ratios of one item to another until I found a nice mix. But the Souplantation Creamy Tomato Soup involves all five of those plus about 30-35 others, some of which had chemical-sounding names.
End of brilliant notion. If and when the remodelling of my kitchen is completed — we're still hoping for this century — I may take a stab at conjuring up my own Creamy Tomato Soup. But it would be so much easier if the Souplantation people would just recognize that this blog speaks for all of America, yield to popular opinion and make the C.T.S. part of their regular lineup. And while they're at it, could they get us out of Iraq, please?
Here's a commercial for Kellogg's Sugar Pops. Paul Frees did the voice of the deputy, Daws Butler was Sugar Pops Pete, and I'm tired and unable to place the name of the actor who did the Marshall at the moment. Might be Bob Holt. In any case, when was the last time a breakfast cereal boasted how much sugar it contained?
Carolyn and I went out to hear jazz this evening...the legendary Charles Lloyd has a new quartet, playing with much younger musicians. One of them — a drummer named Eric Harland — was outstanding. I once watched Buddy Rich rehearsing and showing off with the Tonight Show band and that was the last time I heard a drummer this good. Mr. Lloyd was great, too...but that wasn't a surprise. That drummer was.
Okay, here's what I'm looking to buy and this is for my mother. I want one of those "pay as you go" cell phones where you put a few bucks of calling time on it and then you can use it whenever you want — this week, next month, the month after, etc. This is so she has a way of reaching me if her regular phone is out. But I also need one with large buttons. All the ones I've seen have tiny, dainty little buttons that won't do for someone with weak vision. Can anyone point me towards what I seek? Gracias.
Gary Shapiro's radio program From The Bookshelf is heard each and every Sunday night at 9 PM on Central Coast Public Radio, KUSP 88.9 FM in Santa Cruz California. Recently, I chatted with him about my new book, Kirby: King of Comics, and you can hear that chat — it runs a little less than half an hour — over on this page.
Our pal Kim "Howard" Johnson has been slaving away on a book I must have...a biography of Del Close, a man who was to improv comedy what Antonio Stradivari was to fiddle-making. (Come on, Evanier. You can come up with a better analogy than that.) (Not today, I can't.) Here's an article about this forthcoming volume.
It's been a long time since I've written about my waistline. I get lots of e-mailed inquiries about it but I never seem to be in the mood to write about something like that. Today, I'm in that mood.
My girth has been fluctuating over about a ten pound variance with no logical connection to how much I eat or how much I exercise. My doctor says this is not uncommon and that I should not pay it a lot of attention. I go up, I go down...but even up, I'm more than a hundred below where I was two years ago so I'm still happy with me.
One of the things I find amazing is that I had so little trouble breaking food addictions. I have certain faves, including the Creamy Tomato Soup that's available for the next day or so at Souplantation. But I don't actually feel the need to eat anything in particular...or, some days, anything at all.
There was a time I would have bet you serious money that I couldn't kick my habit of drinking a half-dozen carbonated, non-diet beverages per day...and if I could cut back, it would be by chug-a-lugging orange juice or something else with high sugar content. Even before I had Gastric Bypass Surgery, I gave up the Pepsis and in the 18 months after G.B.S., I slowly gave up o.j., lemonade and everything else liquid but for tomato juice and plain, old-fashioned water. I occasionally flavor the H2O with True Lemon or True Orange but otherwise, it's that or the occasional Campbell's Tomato Juice and I don't miss other drinks one bit.
Then one day close to three months ago, my "sweet tooth" completely disappeared...and I can tell you where it happened. It happened in Las Vegas during this trip. On Saturday morning, I brunched at a $7.77 buffet...and yes, I could have gone to somewhere fancier. But given my reduced stomach capacity, I didn't figure to eat enough to make a better place cost-effective and assumed even at a cheapo spread, there'd be enough tasty/edible choices to satisfy my meager dining needs.
There was...and there was also a wonderful dessert. They had a soft-serve frozen custard that was quite delightful and I made a mental Post-It™ note to return before I left to have more of that custard. Monday morn, before heading for the airport, I went to the buffet, ate my fill of fish and rice...and then realized I had no craving for the custard or any of other available desserts. You know those great little one-bite eclairs they always have in Vegas buffets? Didn't want one of them, either.
So I didn't have dessert. It was free and I didn't have dessert. Apart from one recent visit to a Chinese restaurant where I ate a fortune cookie without thinking, I haven't had a cookie, piece of cake or candy, lick of ice cream, slice of pie, doughnut or anything "desserty" since. Obviously, I get a certain amount of sugar or high fructose corn syrup in some non-dessert food items but I am in no way tempted to taste something because it's sweet. I never would have thought this possible.
I sleep better. I walk better. I have occasional odd muscle aches which my doctor says are normal and will subside. I still don't recommend Gastric Bypass Surgery to everyone because I don't think my experiences are typical. But I do recommend losing weight. It has all sorts of unexpected benefits...and every so often, you can surprise yourself with how you can do what you didn't think you could do.
This is the trailer for what I think was the best Deanless movie Jerry Lewis ever made, The Bellboy. As the announcer (who I think is Alan "Fred Flintstone" Reed) says, it was all shot on location at the Fontainebleau Hotel in Miami. If I recall the history on this correctly: Jerry had finished shooting Cinderfella and Paramount had it scheduled as their summer Jerry Lewis release of 1960. Then Jerry or someone had the thought that because of that film's fairy tale nature, it would do better business as a Christmas release. Everyone at the studio agreed...but they'd promised exhibitors a summer Lewis pic. "No problem," Jerry said. "We'll make another movie in time for summer release."
The boys at Paramount said that sounded great but pointed out that Jerry was committed to play the Fountainbleu for a month and couldn't do that and make a movie in the allotted time. Again, Jerry said it was no problem: "We'll make the movie at the Fontainebleau during the day, and I'll play their showroom at night." The hotel, well aware of the publicity value, made some big financial concessions so the film could be shot very inexpensively...so that made the whole proposition sound very good to the studio.
All they needed now was a script and a director. Jerry said, "I'll handle those." He had not written and directed a film before but he'd been edging in that direction so it was a small leap. Quickly, he came up with the idea of doing a largely plotless movie with himself as a bellhop, wrote a very long script and then — at the hotel — threw out most of it in favor of freshly-improvised scenes based on what was going on there. The majority of the other actors were either members of his crew or, like Milton Berle and Joe E. Ross, performers who were playing Miami at the same time.
Some of the jokes worked and others didn't but the whole thing had a nice, friendly energy and at 71 minutes, you sure couldn't get bored. The same cannot be said for this trailer...
This seems to be New York Times Day on this weblog. In connection with their profile of Al Jaffee (to which I linked earlier in another paper), they have an "interactive" gallery of some of Al's fold-in cartoons. This is the best use of Shockwave Flash I've ever seen on the 'net.
Here's a good article on everyone's favorites, Bob and Ray. Thanks to Paul H. Hill for telling me about this.
If one of the photos looks familiar, it was cribbed from this here weblog. It's a screen capture I did from a game show that ran on GSN. And since they copied my picture, I'll copy one of their links. It's this one, which will take you to a website with 200 Bob & Ray radio shows you can download and enjoy.
An obit for Dave Stevens in The New York Times. I was going to write "Hey, they got his name right" but actually, I spoke to the reporter a few days ago and he struck me as smart and thorough and everything you'd want a New York Times writer to be. They do have people at that newspaper who get things right.
The New York Times has finally figured out Joe Shuster's first name. Maybe someday they'll figure out that their first two years' coverage of the Iraq War was equally accurate.
Daniel Gross explains John McCain's fiscal policy. It comes down basically to "The rich will pay less in taxes, I'll cut some earmarks somewhere but I'm not saying where yet, and somehow we'll balance the budget." Remember when John McCain was the Republican who at least raised token objections to this kind of thing?
Pat Paulsen was kind of the Stephen Colbert of his day. He was best known as "that comedian who keeps running for president," a bit he did with such deadpan perseverence that a lot of people probably thought he was more serious about it than he actually was.
He also did a lot of routines that came under that category of spontaneous stunts — a category later dominated for a time by a Mr. Andy Kaufman. One Paulsen effort — and you'll catch a brief glimpse of it in this video — was walking on water. Paulsen would go on TV shows and explain, with utter intensity and a face straighter than you could possibly imagine, that he could walk on water. Then, after a very long build-up (the kind Kaufman often gave his routines), Mr. Paulsen would attempt to demonstrate his skill and...well, you've never seen a human being get so wet in your life. He got wetter than wet but it never dampened his insistence that he could walk on water...and sometimes (not always), he eventually managed to do it. It was a hilarious bit even if the Mike Douglas audience didn't always know what to make of it.
Paulsen became famous, of course, for his appearances with The Smothers Brothers. He maintained such a bland, emotionless presence on camera that TV execs seemed to shy from him, presuming Americans would never love someone that cold. He did have a brief (13 weeks) series on ABC in 1969 that I remember as being quite brilliant...but when it went away, so did he to a great extent. Which was our loss because he was a very funny man, indeed.
His family (I think it's his family) has decided that Pat should be running for president again this year, and I think that's great. So what if he's dead? He'd still be better than most of them and he'll get as many electoral votes as Ralph Nader. Here's a link to the campaign website and below is a little tribute video about Pat's life and times...
Jack Klugman is suing NBC over his share of profits from the TV series, Quincy, M.E. The show was on from 1976 to 1983 and you have to figure that if that series didn't make truckloads of bucks, nothing could. I mean, it would be like McDonald's claiming there was never any money in selling burgers and fries. Still, at last report, NBC Universal was saying with at least a semi-straight face that Quincy was $66 million in the red so there were no profits to share with the guy who played Quincy.
Does NBC mean this? Of course not. It's just a corporate game wherein they're saying, "Hey, Klugman! If you want your money, you're going to have to fight for it. And we're going to make it so difficult and expensive that maybe you'll forget about it or at least settle for ten cents on the dollar!" They do this because it works. A lot of folks in Klugman's situation don't go to war over the money. Most do settle for a fraction...which is what Mr. Klugman will probably do, too. Companies like Universal save billions (that's billions with a "b") taking the position they take.
I mention this because it is not unrelated to why we all just went through that nasty strike. The people who told us there was no money to be made off the Internet are the same people who are telling Jack Klugman there were no profits from Quincy, M.E. They didn't expect the Writers Guild to believe that either, but they hoped we wouldn't go to war over the money...and they hoped that if we did, we'd settle for a fraction. It's a silly, often destructive game but that's how it's played.
Earlier, I posted a link to a New York Times story about the family of Jerry Siegel winning a court battle over the copyright to Superman's first appearance. Shortly after I put up that link, the Times added some illustrations to its online story, including the above.
Maybe I shouldn't be bothered by this but it has always annoyed me that so many folks have trouble with the names of Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. Those aren't difficult names but just Google some of the obvious misspellings and you'll find Seigel, Siegal, Segel, Schuster and other variations, along with many instances of their first names being swapped or their last names confused with Simon and Kirby or Simon and Schuster. Once upon a time, the names of Jerry and Joe appeared nowhere in conjunction with their creation and a lot of battles were fought to get them their right and proper credit. So I wince when I see one or both spelled wrong...which means I wince a lot.
During the biggest of those battles, Jerry and Joe appeared on Saturday Night Live With Howard Cosell, which was then a big-time ABC prime time TV series. It may have been the only time Joe ever appeared on television...and Cosell introduced him as John Shuster.
And now, here we are with maybe the most important news story in years about them in what may be the most important newspaper in the world...and he's turned into Max Shuster. Sigh and double sigh.
Incidentally, there's a special poignancy in both those photos. Joe is posing with a copy of (but probably did not read) The Amazing World of Superman, a 1973 special edition that DC published in connection with a promotion involving Metropolis, Illinois. The book was a history of Superman...containing no mention of Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.
The photo of Jerry shows him with his old typewriter. A couple times in the late sixties or early seventies, when money was tight in the Siegel household, Jerry took out ads to sell that machine...the typewriter on which the first Superman story was created. I don't know what became of it but I know he was disappointed that he got no offers for significant cash.
Both those photos represent sad moments in the lives of those two men, so it's meaningful to see them juxtaposed with that article. And almost tragically comic to see them get Joe's name wrong.
A nice profile of Mad Magazine's foldable fiend, Al Jaffee.
This is the Year of Jaffee. There's a new book coming out (complete with a foreword by Stephen Colbert) collecting Al's great newspaper strip, Tall Tales. He's one of three nominees and the odds-on favorite for the National Cartoonists Society Reuben Award as Cartoonist of the Year. And he's going to be a Guest of Honor at this year's Comic-Con International...the first time he's ever attended that gathering.
Frankly, I think the Comic-Con should have nominated him for a Hall of Fame Award but the nominations are out and there's no Jaffee. I guess they had to leave him (and a few other worthies in their eighties) off to make room for young whippersnappers like Len Wein and Barry Windsor-Smith.
The comic book industry has just changed a lot. This article in The New York Times will give you the basics, and here's the lede...
LOS ANGELES — Time Warner is no longer the sole proprietor of Superman.
A federal judge here on Thursday ruled that the heirs of Jerome Siegel — who 70 years ago sold the rights to the action hero he created with Joseph Shuster to Detective Comics for $130 — were entitled to reclaim their share of the U. S. copyright to the character. The ruling left intact Time Warner's international rights to the character, which it has long owned through its DC Comics unit.
And it reserved for trial questions about how much the company may owe the Siegel heirs for use of the character since 1999, when their ownership is deemed to have been restored. Also to be resolved is whether the heirs are entitled to payments directly from Time Warner's film unit, Warner Brothers, which took in $200 million at the domestic box office with its Superman Returns in 2006, or only from the DC unit's Superman profits.
If you're interested to read the entire opinion, Jeff Trexler has it over on his weblog. It's written in surprisingly clear language and you needn't have a law degree to understand most of it.
For reasons you can perhaps guess, I'm not going to be commenting on any of this. So don't ask.
Someone named Marv Wolfman who claims to have been a friend of mine for 38 years sends the following...
You and I have trudged to the Souplantation a number of times but never during Classic Creamy Tomato soup month, and that kinda soup's my favorite. So after today's column where Wayne told his soup story, I did a Google search on the nearest Souplantation (they closed down the one near me in Woodland Hills) made my way to Godforsaken Northridge or wherever it is, and had dinner. Well, the very best creamy tomato soup I ever had was at an incredibly good (and expensive) restaurant sitting on a magnificent lake in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, the sun just setting out the window looking over the lake and I can tell you that soup was to die for. This wasn't as good, but
it was close. Real close. Real, real, real close. As is the restaurant, comparatively to Alabama at least, and much, much cheaper. I had two bowls. You were right again, pal-o-mine.
I'm not sure I know this Wolfman guy but if he likes the Creamy Tomato Soup at Souplantation, he sounds like my kind of person. At the very least, he gives me the chance to remind you all that there isn't much of March left and that my favorite soup won't be at Souplantation (or its twin, the Sweet Tomatoes chain) for much longer.
(Also: Can anyone identify the restaurant in Alabama that this person visited?)
It's Fred Kaplan Time again, sports fans! Today, he explains Basra to us in a way that I wish some person running for public office could explain it. I'm not sure some people running for high posts these days even know where or what Basra is.
In the fifties and sixties, the place to go for news in Southern California was not one of the network affiliates but KTLA, a local station. That was especially true when the news was of a local nature — a fire, a shootout, etc. When something happened, you tuned to Channel 5...and I can think of three reasons why that station achieved its standout position. One was that it seemed to have a bigger (and probably earlier) commitment to covering what was going on. Another was that they had the only helicopter equipped with a live video camera. When there was a big fire, other local stations — with permission and credit — would cut to the Channel 5 video feed of it. Naturally, there was no point in watching excerpts from the Channel 5 video on Channel 4 when you could turn the dial one notch and watch all of it on 5.
And the other reason was that KTLA had some fine news reporters, especially a gent named Stan Chambers, who is unmentioned in today's clip but who did remarkable work. When there was trouble anywhere in L.A., Stan Chambers would be there covering it sooner than anyone else and from some amazing vantage point. When we had the famous police shootout with the Symbionese Liberation Front, the joke was that every other reporter was covering it from outside while Chambers was in the house with the suspects.
Today's presentation here is a few minutes of openings from old KTLA nightly news broadcasts. You'll catch a brief glimpse of George Putnam, who fronted the news there for many years. Ted Knight's character on The Mary Tyler Moore Show borrowed much of his on-camera attitude from Mr. Putnam and also from another local news anchor, Jerry Dunphy. You'll also catch a brief glimpse of a very young Keith Olbermann and no glimpse of Tom Snyder, who worked for a few years on the KTLA news team.
Eric Lichtblau and James Risen were the two reporters who broke the story of the Bush administration's probably-illegal wiretapping operations. And I think I'm being charitable to put in the "probably."
Lichtblau has written a book that covers, among other thing, how they put that report together and Slate has an excerpt which should be of interest to anyone who cares about your government breaking the law...or even just about the state of journalism in the country today. On the latter count, the following paragraph leaped out at me...
The only real question now was not whether the story would run, but when. That decision was helped along by a chance conversation I had soon after our White House meeting. The administration, I was told, had considered seeking a Pentagon Papers-type injunction to block publication of the story. The tidbit was a bombshell. Few episodes in the history of the Times — or, for that matter, in all of journalism — had left as indelible a mark as the courtroom battle over the Pentagon Papers, and now we were learning that the Bush White House had dusted off a Nixon-era relic to consider coming after us again. The editors in New York had already decided they would probably print the story in the newspaper for that Friday, Dec. 16, 2005, but when word of the Pentagon Papers tip reached them, they decided they would also post it on the Internet the night before. That wasn't routinely done at that time on "exclusive" stories because we would risk losing the scoop to our competitors, but the editors felt it was worth the risk. The administration might be able to stop the presses with an injunction, but they couldn't stop the Internet.
I don't think the government could have stopped the presses either, but the ability to launch the story out into the world via the 'net probably pre-empted that battle. And has rendered so many others moot.
I've been corresponding with Wayne DeWald since around the time Richard Nixon was president. He just sent me this message. (That is to say Wayne sent it...not Nixon.)
After 39+ years it's not easy for me to impress the good Mrs. DeWald, but yesterday a flyer arrived in the mail announcing the opening of a Sweet Tomatoes restaurant just up the street — the first in this area. I quickly made the connection to your rapturous posts about the Creamy Tomato Soup and insisted we had to eat there soon. Tonight we visited Sweet Tomatoes and as luck would have, it still being March, Creamy Tomato Soup was indeed available — and delicious. My wife had two bowls which she thoroughly enjoyed. She was impressed — perhaps stunned is the better word — by my amazing culinary expertise. Thanks, Mark!
Many of you have written to say that the most valuable service this weblog has performed in the ninety-some-odd years of its existence has been to tout you onto the creamy tomato soup being served during the month of March at Souplanation and Sweet Tomatoes restaurants. There are over 100 of these establishments in fifteen states and if there's one near you, you might want to hurry there in the next few days. The Creamy Tomato Soup will probably disappear from most of them, some time this weekend. (At least at the one near me, they use a loose definition of when one month ends and the next begins. The March soups could be gone as soon as Sunday or as late as Tuesday. Whatever, you don't have long.)
But do us all a favor. If you like this soup even a tenth as much as I do, call the Souplantation/Sweet Tomatoes customer service line and tell them. Here's the number. There's also a way to send e-mail comments there but it's been my experience that companies pay more attention to phoned-in suggestions. Tell them you'd like to see the Creamy Tomato Soup become a regular selection there...or at least something we can have there more often than one month a year. I'm going to get a few "to go" orders and freeze them to eat in April but that's not good enough.
Keith Olbermann awards his coveted "Worst Person in the World" awards on tonight's broadcast. The bronze (to Bill O'Reilly) is of little importance, the silver (to James Dobson) is on-target and the gold (to Walmart) is scathing and gutsy and the kind of thing more people on TV should do.
Just had lunch with one of the three most talented people on this planet, Chuck McCann, and I'm taking him down to USC later this afternoon to speak to my students. (I teach Comedy Writing down there on Wednesdays. So if you see a future generation of comedy writers who can only do "mulch" jokes, you'll know the reason.) Chuck is an actor and a writer and a filmmaker and a voiceover genius and if I ever need to have someone do a liver transplant on me, I'm betting he can handle that, too.
Each year, he organizes the Brown Paper Pete Film Festival featuring short movies that are made in a helluva hurry. They give you six weeks and a topic and then they see what you come up with. This coming Sunday at the Fine Arts Theater in Beverly Hills at 1 PM, they'll be unspooling this year's entries, which are in some way about cars. If you're anywhere in the area, go and I'll bet you enjoy yourself tremendously.
In the meantime, if you click on this link, you can watch a film that Chuck made for some past festival...or something.
In January of '05, a man named Juan Manuel Alvarez did what has to rank right up there with the crappiest things any human being has ever done to other human beings. After what were reported as several failed attempts to take his own life, Alvarez parked his Jeep Grand Cherokee on some railroad tracks in Glendale, apparently figuring that the Metrolink train that ran along those tracks would destroy it and him. He also, just to add to his certain demise, doused the Jeep in gasoline.
At the last minute, it is said, he got cold feet...or something. Whatever his motives, he fled the Jeep and so escaped death or even injury when the train collided with it. Alas, others were not so fortunate. Eleven people died and close to 200 more were injured, some of them quite seriously. Alvarez was taken into custody and now, more than three years after the horrible incident, he's about to go on trial, charged with 11 counts of murder, one count of arson and a number of other offenses for which prosecutors are seeking the Death Penalty. Jury selection began today and in this article, it says the trial is expected to last through June...
...to which I say, "Huh?"
Through June? Three months? Why should this trial take more than twenty minutes?
I'm not suggesting they should just throw the book at the guy, schedule the electric chair and adjourn to Chili's for the Smokehouse Bacon Burger lunch special. Everyone is entitled to a Fair Trial and Due Process. I'm just wondering what they have to talk about that's going to take that long.
It is not in dispute that he parked the Jeep on the tracks, intending to have the train hit it. There seems to be some disagreement as to whether he really was suicidal and ever intended to be in the vehicle at the moment of impact but, in the immortal words of Dick Cheney...so? Motive and mindset are obviously important in some cases but do they really matter a lot in this one?
The lawyers for Alvaraz are apparently not going to argue that he was framed and that a mysterious one-armed man actually parked the Jeep on the tracks and made it look like Alvaraz did it. Their primary defense will be that, okay, you're right...because of what he did, a train was wrecked and people died or were maimed. But he didn't mean to. He thought the train would just hit the SUV, destroy it and him, and then continue its merry way along the track. It will be further claimed that the train striking the Jeep did not cause all those deaths; that they were the result of a chain reaction of events — this hitting that which hit that, etc. — which could not have been anticipated. It will further be asserted that Alvarez was emotionally distraught and not in full possession of his faculties...
...to which I still say, "Huh?"
Apparently, the three months (and they're saying it could be longer) will be to determine if Alvaraz was really trying to kill himself, and there will be witnesses for both sides discussing what he was like as a child and to what extent he'd ever displayed suicidal tendencies. So what we'll have here is the Prosecution arguing he should die because he didn't want to kill himself...and the Defense saying he shouldn't get the Death Penalty because he did want to kill himself.
This is silly. Either way, this man should not be free to walk the streets...maybe not for the rest of his life but certainly not for a long time. I don't see that it matters a lot whether he spends all eternity in prison or if he's executed...and I don't mean just that the difference doesn't matter to society. I mean, it doesn't even seem to matter to him. A lot of my general opposition to the Death Penalty is because I don't believe it's sagely enforced. I think it's applied to a horrifying number of people who are either innocent or just plain did not receive fair trials and might be. That doesn't apply in this case.
This whole story is a great argument for some sort of government-sanctioned program for Assisted Suicide. I think you have a moral right to end your own life...and if things are going so poorly that you're thinking of parking your SUV on the Metrolink tracks, we oughta help you do it in a neater manner. I've written here in the past about a friend of mine who ended his botched-up existence by leaping from the top floor of the tallest hotel in Manhattan. I don't know if his life could have been put back together with professional help but it sure could have been ended in a less destructive (for others) way. He did great damage to total strangers who were there that day and witnessed that horror, to say nothing of what the spectacle did to his friends and family.
Unmentioned in any recent article I've seen on Alvarez is a follow-up on something that was reported at the time of the tragedy. There was some question as to whether the injured and the families of the deceased had any financial recourse. The train company has insurance but the train company did not seem to have been at fault in any way...and Alvarez didn't have the funds to buy a bottle of Bactine, let alone pay for any of the destruction he caused. At last report, some of those injured were trying to recoup on huge hospital bills by suing the train company for not doing a better job of anticipating this kind of thing.
All of this — the deaths, the destruction, the injuries, the medical bills, the millions of dollars in legal fees from the trials, all of it — might have been averted if there was a place this Alvarez guy could have gone and gotten help, either to end his life or to help him save it. There are counselling services out there but they don't offer the option that Alvarez allegedly (if we believe his lawyers) felt he needed. I don't know if he did or he didn't...but if he was determined enough to do what he did, wouldn't it have been better if someone could have shown him a more efficient way to go about it?
Every so often, the software that maintains this site hiccups and something that I post once shows up twice or thrice on the page you read. Last night, I posted the previous message once and it somehow wound up on here four times. I deleted three of them but have to note the irony of four copies of a posting about It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.
Someone posted the animated opening title sequence for It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World to YouTube so I might as well link to it and point out the following.
I first saw this movie (one of my favorites) shortly after it came out...a few days after John F. Kennedy was murdered. My family and I were in the front row — way too close — of the Cinerama Dome Theater on Sunset in Hollywood. If you think Jimmy Durante's nose is frightening in normal viewing, you should have seen it from those seats.
One of the eight million things that fascinated me about this movie came in the titles...at the moment when the "world" blows up and the names of the stars rain down on the screen. Sitting there in the Dome, my eleven-year-old eyes thought they saw other names in there, names other than the performers in the film. I have always read very fast but that evening, I made Evelyn Woods look like...well, fill in your own joke. I definitely spotted other names in there. When I saw the film again a year or two later in a non-Cinerama theater, I again thought I saw the mysterious other names...but of course, in those days, we didn't have VCRs and TiVos and means by which one could slow-mo or freeze frame a movie.
The day I got my first home video copy of It's a Mad4 World — in Beta! — I immediately checked and sure enough, there they were...the name of men who'd animated the title, plus the names of what I guess were friends and family members. Years later, I asked one of them — Bill Melendez — about it. He remembered the staff all inserting their monikers but didn't recall which ones he was responsible for.
Anyway, they're in there if you want to peek for yourself. The cartoon world explodes around 2 minutes and 15 seconds into the clip. Happy hunting.
I just read about your article "Spots Before My Eyes" on Animated News. As soon as I saw it was about a 101 Dalmatians song, I immediately remembered a song from the LP I had as a kid. Since I lived in The Netherlands, of course it was in Dutch, but the end is like: "…en honderd en een van die hongerige mondjes en honderd en een van die kwispelende kontjes, dat zijn dalmatiner hondjes!" (…and one hundred and one of those hungry little mouths and one hundred and one of those wagging little dog ends, those are Dalmatian doggies)
I was curious what you had to write about it and was surprised to learn this song is not in the movie. I can’t remember seeing the movie, but I just adored my record, especially this song. It is so catchy I too can remember it after so many years. Although you wrote your record dates from 1960, and the song wasn’t in the movie itself, my record is from the early eighties, me being born in 1977. I find it funny the song was used for a children’s record in The Netherlands, translated and stayed on the LP even twenty years after it was skipped from the original movie. Unfortunately, I don’t have the Dutch record here in Vienna, Austria...
Well, now you've done it. I'm going to be going around for weeks humming "…en honderd en een van die hongerige mondjes en honderd en een van die kwispelende kontjes, dat zijn dalmatiner hondjes!" to myself. Thanks a lot.
Now that I've learned how to embed audio links in this page, I'm going to share a few goodies, starting with the repost of something I put up here a long time ago, before most of you began visiting this blog. This is the demo tape of the late, great voiceover god, Paul Frees.
All voiceover actors have at least one demo and some have several — one for animation, one for narration, one for trailers, etc. Mr. Frees had a "one size fits all" demo. Actually, he had a couple different ones but they all had a wide variety of what he did, and of the three or four I have, this one's the best.
It's five minutes. Note to anyone who's considering a career in voiceover work: You would be a fool to make your demo five minutes. No one who can ever possibly give you work is going to listen to it and many of them will think less of you because you don't know that. You are not Paul Frees.
Actually, given his rep, his demo probably wasn't used primarily to get him work. It was probably more like a catalogue so that people who were already thinking of hiring him could get a fix on which Paul Frees voice they wanted. Even then, if Mr. Frees were around now and looking for work, this demo would be two minutes. The business has changed since his day and now agents and casting directors figure that if they don't hear something wonderful in about the first minute, there's no point in listening any longer. That's probably valid.
I once asked a top voice agent, "If this demo came to you from an unknown, how far into it would you get before you decided you wanted to take this person on as a client?" He said, "Halfway through the first voice on it." That's even discounting the most impressive thing about it, which is that about 80% of these are from real jobs Frees had, some of which were quite successful and loved. So was he, and I think you can hear why...
Fred Kaplan discusses what George W. Bush means by "victory in Iraq." The definition keeps changing but we don't seem to be getting any closer to any of them.
Now, that's service! Last night, I write a piece about how I wish The Night They Raided Minsky's would come out on DVD. I go to bed. I wake up this morning and there on Amazon, they're taking orders for The Night They Raided Minsky's, coming out on DVD on May 20! What clout we have here.
Amazing. True, there doesn't seem to be that commentary track I craved but that'll probably be done for a Deluxe Platinum Edition a few years down the line...about the time they're ready to try to get us to buy this DVD again. Guess you can't have everything. I'm just satisfied that my little item caused them to hurriedly schedule the release and design a DVD cover and get it all up on Amazon...and in under seven hours! (A few of the dozens who wrote me this morning to tell me about it are under the delusion that this was arranged some time ago and that I was simply unaware it had been announced. You folks don't understand the power of this weblog.)
If you'd like to pre-order, here's the link. I don't understand why the Amazon page says that the movie stars Harry Andrews and Jack Burns, when they actually have much smaller parts than Jason Robards, Norman Wisdom, Britt Ekland and Bert Lahr...but I guess whoever whipped up this listing was in such a hurry to surprise me with it that they got a little sloppy.
Here's three minutes from a movie that as I've mentioned here before, really oughta be out on DVD. It's The Night They Raided Minsky's and it starred Jason Robards, Norman Wisdom, Britt Ekland and, briefly, Bert Lahr. Mr. Lahr passed away during the filming and his role had to be truncated (or in a few scenes, played by a look-alike dubbed by a sound-alike). The film was made in 1968, produced by Norman Lear and directed by William Friedkin. Mr. Friedkin more or less disowned it and it was heavily recut in the editing room, making it into quite a different movie. The seams show but I still like what resulted.
The blonde gentleman you'll see in this scene is Dexter Maitland who at the time of his death a few years ago, was hailed as The Last Burlesque Straight Man. In the late eighties, I got to meet and chat with him in Vegas where he spent most of his last few decades (either there or in Reno) performing in revues that vaguely recreated the old days at Minsky's Burlesque where he had once worked. In Vegas, he sang a little but mostly played opposite The Last Burlesque Funnyman — the equally wonderful Irv Benson — in comedy routines that Henny Youngman would have dismissed as out-of-date. And maybe they were but I thought they were wonderful. (To read all about Mr. Benson, go here. Better still, go here.)
Like I said, the movie oughta be on DVD...and maybe it soon will be. The oft-announced stage musical version is apparently getting its act together to play Los Angeles early in '09 with an eye on later migrating to Broadway. Now renamed Minsky, it reportedly now bears very little resemblance to the movie on which it is ostensibly based. Still, it might provide a nice external impetus to get a DVD done...and I do hope they persuade Norman Lear to do a commentary track. For now, you'll have to settle for this clip...
Speaking of TiVo: During the recent Writers Guild strike, we tried to make a point here of why it was so important that the Guild get jurisdiction over shows made for Internet distribution and also that writers get compensated when their work, including work not made for the 'net, is disseminated that way. There are/were many fine reasons but one we mentioned a few times is that the line is blurring between the various delivery methods. It's getting harder and harder to tell what's a broadcast TV show and what's an Internet one these days.
It's only going to get blurrier and another step will be taken later this year. The TiVo folks have announced that those of us who have later models of their wonderful machines will soon be able to download YouTube videos to our TiVos.
This is a major development. It means that, for example, NBC can upload Jay Leno's monologue to YouTube and I can then download it to my TiVo. Then I can watch it on the same set in the same way I'd watch it via its traditional method of transmission. Or some civilian, unaffiliated in any way with the network or show, can capture the monologue and slap it up on YouTube...and by the time NBC tells them to take it down, it'll already be on my TiVo. This is going to change a lot.
One of the many friends I've made through this site is a gentleman named Dave Sikula, who occasionally sends in corrections or items that oughta be posted here. Dave is a contestant on Jeopardy! this coming Wednesday. Like all who appear on that show, he is forbidden to let anyone know how he fared at the taping so I have no idea if he won or lost. He's a bright guy but how fast is he on the button? I don't know. Let's watch on Wednesday and find out.
Shortly before Christmas of 1960, my mother entered and won a contest at the Robinson's Department Store in Westwood. It was one of those contests where it was hard to not win — hundreds did — and what she won was an invitation to bring her child (i.e., me) to a Special Disney Preview of a forthcoming movie called 101 Dalmatians.
It took place on a Saturday morning at the Ambassador Hotel near downtown Los Angeles. We reported at the assigned hour, checked in and were herded like cattle (or worse, Magic Kingdom visitors) into separate ballrooms. My mother was held captive, more or less, in a presentation for parents. They were served adult-type food and subjected to what I gather was an extended commercial for going to Disney movies, buying Disney toys for the kids, taking them to Disneyland, watching Disney TV shows, etc. The gist of it was that you weren't a good raiser of children if you denied your offspring any part of the total Disney experience. A decade or two later while visiting Las Vegas, she and my father got roped into one of those scams where in exchange for allegedly free show tickets, they had to sit through a hard sell pitch to buy time share condos, and were almost forbidden to leave without doing so. When she got home, she said it reminded her of that Disney gathering.
Meanwhile back at the Ambassador, I was taken into the other ballroom, the one for kids, which was decorated as if for a child's birthday party. There were dozens of little tables and I was stuck at one with a bunch of other eight-year-olds I didn't know and didn't particularly want to know, and we were served hot dogs and potato chips and ice cream and cake. Some of this was eaten but most of it was thrown around or up. Disney cartoons were run and there was, of course, an extended preview for 101 Dalmatians along with training on how to properly throw a tantrum if our parents did not take us to see it again and again and again and buy us every last bit of 101 Dalmatians merchandise.
There was also a live show. A woman dressed as a fairy princess of some sort sang Disney songs and then Clarence "Ducky" Nash performed with his Donald Duck puppet. I didn't understand a word he said in either voice but I knew enough to know he was the man who spoke for Donald, and it was thrilling to see him in person. There was also a Disney cartoonist — the "Big Mooseketeer" Roy Williams, I think — doing charcoal drawings of Mickey and the gang right before our eyes. I liked that part a lot.
At the end, before we and our respective parents were released from Disney custody and reunited, there was a drawing for prizes where everyone present was destined to win something. I wanted one of the charcoal sketches but had to settle for a 78 RPM Little Golden Record that featured two songs from 101 Dalmatians. One side had the movie's best tune, "Cruella De Vil." The other side had a title song that was very catchy and very bouncy and in the weeks that followed, I played it often on my little phonograph. The ending went...
Picture one hundred and one mischievious creations
One hundred and one puppy birthday celebrations
One hundred and one, that's a lot of doggy rations
One Hundred and One Dalmatians!
To my surprise when I made my parents take me to see the movie, that song was nowhere to be heard. It was not on the LP soundtrack of the movie, either. Throughout the sixties, long after I'd lost or broken my Little Golden Record I had that tune running through my head but could not find a copy of it to save my life. I couldn't even find any evidence that it had ever existed. Around 1970, when I began to meet Disney scholars and asked about it, none of them had ever heard of it. One told me I'd obviously made it up. "I didn't make up those lyrics when I was eight years old," I replied.
One day last year, I lunched with Greg Ehrbar, co-author (with Tim Hollis) of Mouse Tracks: The Story of Walt Disney Records, the exhaustive book on the topic, and I thought to ask him about it. He knew of the song and thought it had been written by the team of Mr. Disney's favorite tunesmiths, Richard and Robert Sherman. When he told me this, I felt like more of a ninny than even usual because I know Richard Sherman. For some reason — a lot of mutual friends, I guess, plus the fact that we're both members of the Magic Castle — I run into him at least once a month somewhere. I could have asked him about it years ago!
I did, the next time we were together and he was quite amazed that I knew those lyrics and could sing them, albeit poorly, from memory and from when I was eight. He was also quite flattered (who wouldn't be?) and he told me the story of its creation and omission. Basically, Mr. D. came to them. They were new in his operation, this being before Mary Poppins or The Parent Trap or all those great songs they wrote for Disneyland attractions. The Great and Powerful Walt suddenly decided 101 Dalmatians needed a bouncy title song and they whipped one up which everyone liked but which they couldn't find room for in the movie. That Little Golden Record I won was apparently arranged before the movie was locked, at a time it was still believed the tune would get in. That it didn't was allegedly because some other high-ranked Disney official (not Walt) lobbied successfully for its exclusion.
Before I could ask my next question — where the hell do I find a copy? — Richard told me he thought it was being included among a bevy of "cut songs" on the new, then-forthcoming two-disc DVD release of 101 Dalmatians. I was delighted and a few weeks ago, while Costcoing, I picked one up and came home, gleefully anticipating being able to, at long last, hear this song I've had running through my brain since 1961 and last heard around then.
Well, guess what. It's not on the DVD. It's a great DVD, of course, and here's a link if you don't plan on doing any of your own Costcoing soon and you wish to order one. It does have some omitted tunes among its many and splendid special features but the song of my obsession is not among them.
It turns out that a stereo remake of The Song (very nice but not the original) is reportedly on a special 101 Dalmatians CD that you get if you purchase the DVD from WalMart. Here's a link to that deal if you're interested. But like I said, it ain't the original.
So am I forever frustrated in my yearning to again hear the original? Happily, no. Through other means, I finally got my hands and ears on a copy just this last weekend, plus someone sent me a link to an online excerpt that I think is/was part of an Amazon sample. It's not a fabulous song but I've had it caroming around inside my skull since around '62 or '63 or whenever I lost/broke that Little Golden Record, and I missed the one or two places it's appeared since then. This is satisfying to me in a way that cannot possibly mean as much to you. I'm also delighted that my memory of the lyrics was dead-on accurate all these years. So I'll close this by offering you the last thirty seconds of the record, the 45 year itch that I was finally able to scratch. Hope it doesn't haunt you as long as it's haunted me...
Happy news for those of us who've enjoyed the annual Mid-Ohio Con in Columbus, Ohio. Founder Roger Price had announced he was done with it unless someone bought him out...and someone has!
Yesterday, we linked to a sketch from Saturday Night Live with the late Chris Farley playing his character, Matt Foley, a motivational speaker. It's a shame Chris died when he did and took Matt with him...but at least, we still have Matt Kissane, a professional Chris Farley impersonator. Here he is in an outta-sync YouTube video...and a hat tip to "Balloon Entertainer" Smarty Pants, who told me about Mr. Kissane...
James Surowiecki explains the whole mess with Bear Stearns. I can explain it even quicker: The way business works in this country now is that a company like that can take any sort of wild, reckless risk with the money they hold because they know that if everything tanks, the federal government will bail them out and make good on their losses. And of course, either way, if they succeed or fail, the senior execs will take many millions of dollars home with them.
I keep hearing folks on TV saying that Barack Obama is "attempting to have a meaningful dialogue about race in this country." I don't think that's exactly it, and part of why I feel that way is that you can't have a meaningful dialogue all by yourself. There has to be at least one other party and I don't know who that might be in this case. What I think Senator Obama is attempting to do is to allay certain fears that some have about maybe voting for a black man and he's doing this by saying some reasonable, inarguable (to most) observations about race. I think it's wise and I think what he's saying makes sense...but there's no "dialogue" there that involves some nationwide discussion. He's just making points that he believes will help his campaign.
He's right, for instance, that a lot of white people — especially of an older generation — have an illogical fear of minorities. I once had an aunt who was a lovely lady but she was particularly fearful of non-white human beings in groups. She didn't have a dram of prejudice in her towards any one person of color but the minute she saw two or more together, she started worrying about race riots and gangs and people pulling knives. "Pulling knives" was a particular concern.
There's a story about her that I know sounds bogus but knowing her, I tend to believe it. It took place around the pool of the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas in the late sixties. She and my uncle were hanging out there on vacation when she noticed some black people gathered, talking loudly and acting a bit rowdy. I don't know if she overheard some remarks or just what it was but she was suddenly seized by the fear that even though they were wearing swimsuits, they were about to pull knives and do something ghastly. Nervously, she hurried over to a Security Guard, pointed the black people out and suggested he keep an eye on them.
The Security Guard took a look, then told her, "I'm going to be watching them tonight in the showroom, ma'am. That's the Fifth Dimension."
The other day, I wrote this piece on how "questions from the floor" at public speeches and events so often turn into some guy in the audience hijacking the attention for his own. It's received a lot of linkage and e-mail response.
A couple of folks reported on some recent gathering where Q-and-A with the audience provided a great, memorable experience. Fine. I wasn't saying it never happens...just that with what feels to me like increasing frequency, it often doesn't. In the right venue with the right crowd, it can be a joyous and enriching thing. I just think that those of us who get to play Moderator or Host should be more diligent about policing the questioners...and not so quick to assume that there must always be time for open mike queries.
Most of all, of course, I was hoping to send a message to those who commit atrocities from the aisles: You're being rude...often to the person(s) on stage you profess to honor, always to the audience around you. There's nothing wrong with asking a question...and you may well ask a vital one that will yield much enlightenment. You just have to remember that no one is there because of you. Opening the floor to questions is not an invitation for you to try and make the event be about you.
One other thing I oughta mention: I've done a couple of public interviews where the interviewee stipulated certain topics that could not be discussed. That happens. Years ago at a comic convention, I did a one-on-one with Harvey Kurtzman, who among his other achievements was the founding editor of Mad. An unannounced condition of Harvey's appearance was the agreement that he would not be asked on stage why he'd left Mad or about any of the business-type aspects of his relationship there.
He discussed it with me and others in private, and it wasn't so much that Harvey didn't want to talk about it in public but that he'd found that to properly explain it took a very long time. The chat we had about it over lunch took at least ninety minutes, maybe longer. He said that if he tackled it in front of the audience, it would have been even more difficult because he was still contemplating legal action and would have had to select his words more carefully and with less candor. (To my knowledge, he never did take that legal action but at that moment, it was still an option he wished to not complicate.)
What actually concerned him even more was the feeling that if he addressed that matter before the masses and did any sort of justice to the query, the interview would have seemed to be about nothing else. It would have been covered in the press, he believed, as if it had just been Kurtzman grousing the whole time about how he didn't make enough money off Mad and then his colleagues and the folks at Mad would have felt Harvey was running around, bad-mouthing them without hearing his actual words.
He didn't want that so it was understood that we'd sidestep that subject. Moreover, I was not to say that Harvey was declining to address the issue...and he also insisted that questions from the floor be submitted in writing so that I could screen them and not ask the ones about why he left Mad. This was wise on his part because of perhaps fifty we received, at least half were "Why did you leave Mad?"
That had been left unasked as we neared the close of what was truly, because of Mr. Kurtzman, a wonderful and fascinating discussion. Then with about five minutes left on the clock, an alleged friend of mine leaped from his seat in the fifth row and shouted towards the stage, "Why haven't you asked him why he left Mad?" Gee, thanks, alleged friend. I stammered that we didn't have time. The alleged friend yelled out, "Hey, we're not goin' anywhere! The next panel in this room can wait!" and most of the audience applauded.
Harvey stage-whispered to me, "This is why I don't like doing these," but then he said into the mike, very softly and with a note of embarrassment in his voice, "It's a long story, one I don't feel I can tell properly without giving all sides and that takes more time than we have." It pained him to say that, in part because it caused a good presentation to end on a note of disappointment.
It also pained me a bit because at least two of the folks in the house went home and wrote articles about the event, noting what a crappy interviewer I was to not leave time to ask Harvey Kurtzman the question that was on everyone's minds. One complained particularly about having to submit questions in writing and suggested it was my doing because I was on an "ego trip" (that was the term he used...anyone here remember ego trips?) and didn't want anyone asking questions of The Great Kurtzman but me. I have since come to realize that the guy in my position sometimes has to be Bad Cop and take the heat in that way. A few years later, Kurtzman's partner Will Elder did something similar to me on a panel and by then, I was more amused than annoyed by it. I just wish people would understand that sometimes, there's a reason a question isn't asked. These people are not elected officials or wishing to become elected officials. They don't have to be grilled on whatever subjects they'd rather not discuss.
One more anecdote along these lines. I interviewed Ray Bradbury in front of many thousands of people, shortly after the Michael Moore film Fahrenheit 9/11 had come out. Bradbury was outraged at the appropriation/parody of the title of (arguably) his best novel but his friends and family asked me to keep him off that topic; to direct the discussion to his work and not to politics. I figured that was what the audience most wanted to hear about anyway so while there was no explicit understanding to not go there, I decided to steer clear of the subject of Moore's documentary.
After introducing Mr. Bradbury to an ovation they probably heard in the next state, I decided to get things going with a bit of chit-chat about his health, which had been the subject of some pessimistic reports. I asked him, "So, Ray, how have you been feeling these days?"
He immediately answered, "I don't like Michael Moore."
Sometimes, there's only so much the moderator can do.
This runs 23 minutes so you might not want to click right now. But if you do, you'll be watching Charlie Chaplin's 1917 two-reel comedy, Easy Street, complete with an overpowering musical track. I'm not sure when it was done for this film but soundtracks were added to a lot of great silent comedies after talkies came in, especially Chaplin's. There was still a demand for him to the extent that it was cost effective to orchestrate and record music.
It's been about three decades since I watched a lot of Chaplin but I recalled this as my favorite of all his two-reelers. I just watched it and I can see why I felt that way. It's a nice, touching little story and it shows you why Chaplin was a "superstar" long before that word was invented.
I reported in this post that the National Theater in Westwood, a favorite place of mine to see movies when I was a lowly college student, had closed.
I reported in this post that the National had been "saved," at least for a while, and had reopened.
And now I can report that they've torn the place down and there's now a vacant lot where it used to be. So I'll hazard a guess that's the end of the story.
James H. Burns, who sends me some of the best links I post here, sent me this one to a report on a rare public appearance by Gene Wilder. All of it's interesting but it's especially eyebrow-raising to read the following about his view of a certain musical now playing on Broadway...
Wilder regards Brooks' current Broadway musical version of Young Frankenstein as a misguided attempt to marry the director's Borscht Belt humor to the wrong kind of story. Wilder came only for the curtain call on opening night and left immediately after.
That somehow doesn't surprise me and I wonder if it speaks to Mr. Wilder's status as a gentleman or as a profit participant that he hasn't said this louder and in more places. Having met him briefly (like twenty seconds apiece) two times and having heard nothing but good about him from those who really know him, I suspect the former.
This morning on Fox & Friends, Chris Wallace "respectfully" took some of his colleagues on that network to task for what he called "two hours of Obama bashing." You can see the video here...and you might notice a little, perhaps unintended dig by Wallace when he talks about how the talent at Fox doesn't all stick to the "talking points." Good for him either way. I didn't see the whole broadcast but from the others' defensive reactions, it looks like he scored a bulls-eye with his criticism.
Someone should have said something similar to Keith Olbermann the other day regarding his coverage of the new "scandal" (which I kinda doubt will amount to anything) involving some folks snooping around in Obama's passport files. It may well be a criminal act and it sure sounds sleazy...but Olbermann devoted almost his entire hour to the story even though everything known about it was said in about the first four minutes. I like (and TiVo) his Countdown and there are times I think he's gutsy and taking expert aim, especially in calling out other news folks for sloppy research. But just as the Fox & Friends crew apparently ignored a lot of other news so they could fixate on one Obama comment, Olbermann didn't cover any number of other stories so he could say the same things over and over and over about this passport episode.
For a while here last year and I think the year before, I was recommending that those of you in the Southern California area hurry your tailbones over to a theater where, once per week, you could see a live, fun re-creation of the old game show, What's My Line? A clever gent named J. Keith van Straaten was our genial host and he always seemed to have a panel of four witty folks, several people with interesting occupations for them to guess, and — best of all! — a famous Mystery Guest. I went more than a half-dozen times and it was always entertaining.
Alas, all good things come to an end...or in this case, they move to New York. Commencing this coming Monday night, you can see What's My Line? Live on Stage at the Barrow Street Theatre in that fine city. Keith is still the host and he has some of the same witty panelists (including, this Monday, Betsy Palmer) and he'll have Mystery Guests and I see no reason to think it won't be as great a show there as it was out here. Below is a video sampler of what it was out here and if you're in or around New York and it makes you want to go, all the details are on this page.
I wasn't sure if it was okay to mention this in public but since Jerry Beck thinks it is, I'll trust his discretion. An old pal of ours, Jim Korkis, recently suffered a series of small strokes that do not appear to be life-threatening. This last part is good because I'm damned sick of writing obits here and Jim is just about the last guy I'd want to have to pen one about. He's not only a great fellow but he's one of the most valuable animation historians around. For no other reason than a love of the art form and the people who dabble in it, Jim has done hundreds of essential interviews and articles for the last few decades. If you study cartoons at all, you have either read Jim's articles (some of which he signs with names not his own) or you have read articles written by people who know what they know because of Jim's dilgence and passion.
Jim is the kind of person who always asks if there's anything he can do for you. Jim, if you're reading this, there is something you can do for me. You can get better. I would like that very much, thank you.
Here's a commercial for Clark's Teaberry Gum that a lot of us enjoyed when it aired incessantly on TV back in the sixties. By that, I mean we enjoyed the commercial. What I don't recall is any of my friends, who chewed a lot of gum, chewing this one. What I do recall though is an advertising expert on some PBS show saying that insofar as selling the product was concerned, it was a terrible commercial. Why? Because it didn't convey any message about buying Clark's Teaberry Gum. Didn't tell you what it was, even. And in a way, he's right. I still don't know what flavor one might expect from such a thing or why I might enjoy it.
The expert said, approximately, "Even then, a commercial could succeed if it embeds the name of the product into your brain and causes you, when you see it at the store, to think, 'Oh, that's the product I've heard so much about.' But this commercial doesn't even achieve that because the name is such an offhand, afterthought part of it. I'll bet this spot sold more Herb Alpert records than gum." He may have been right...but isn't it a great commercial?
Last evening in rush hour traffic, I drove down Ventura Boulevard at about four miles an hour. That's low even for Ventura at that time of day where you can usually average five. One of the reasons for the slowdown was that there were two demonstrations going on a few miles apart — one in favor of a U.S. pullout of Iraq, one against. Since my car was moving at about the speed of Tim Conway's old man character, I had plenty of time to inspect the signs carried by each group.
The "get out of Iraq" folks all had signs that said what we could be spending the money on instead: "Better education instead of war," "Cleaner water instead of war," "Fix our streets instead of war" and so forth. Those are all commendable preferences but I don't think they're a particularly strong argument. The two main cases against the war in Iraq are that an awful lot of people are dying or being maimed, and that the war seems to be accomplishing the opposite of making this a safer world for us. I don't know why but it felt to me like the protest was almost trivializing the human cost by making it sound like if we weren't in Iraq, we'd be spending all that money on schools and roads. I kinda doubt that we would.
The arguments on the signs wielded by the "stay the course" people seemed even weaker to me. Every one I saw said either "Surrender is not an option" or "The surge is working." I'm not sure that us pulling out of that mess over there would actually constitute surrender...but whatever it would be should always be an option, especially when the other option seems to be staying there forever without a way out. I could buy (but have yet to hear) a strong argument that the U.S. is actually achieving its goals, or even that it stands a reasonable chance of achieving its goals. That would mean though that someone had to articulate those goals and not, when they begin seeming more remote, forget them and make up new ones.
As for "The surge is working," same difference. Working to what ends? The way some politicians use that phrase, it sounds like they admit we're stuck there with no exit strategy and no achievable worthy goal...but the death tolls have slowed, so that means less domestic embarrassment for those who got us into this war. The way William Kristol uses those four words, it sounds like that's all they mean. Or care about.
One more reminder that later today — between the hours of 4 PM and 6 PM Pacific (7 PM and 9 PM Eastern) — I'll be talking about myself on Stu's Show, which you can hear on Shokus Internet Radio. Click on the above banner and follow instructions that are so simple, even John McCain couldn't get them confused.
In fact, if you're reading this between 4 PM and 6 PM Pacific,click right here now and listen in.
While I was composing the previous post, the following arrived in my "press release" mailbox. I reproduce what they sent exactly, including the misspelling of the show's name...
The Mammia Mia! film fansite is NOW live! This is THE place where fans of the worldwide smash hit musical merge with movie buffs from all of over the country to discover a new world of friendship, conversation, support, and
community... Universal Pictures cordially invites you to join the Mamma Mia! fansite today! Join fans worldwide, swap information, trade trivia facts and learn more about the upcoming film version of the musical starring Meryl Streep, Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth, Dominic Cooper and Amanda Seyfried. "My My, how can you resist that? ..." Check out the film’s official Mamma Mia! fansite and sign up today!
And there's also a link to this video preview. In the tradition of the recent Sweeney Todd film, it doesn't make the product look like a musical and certainly doesn't say "based on the smash Broadway show." In this case, they've decided to pass it off as a teen sex comedy starring Meryl Streep. Or maybe that's the movie they made.
This article in the New York Post says that the Young Frankenstein musical can be considered a "flop" and that it may vacate its theater sooner than some are admitting to make way for the forthcoming Spider-Man musical. (Thanks to James H. Burns for the link.)
Speaking as an utter layman and outsider here: I liked Young Frankenstein and think it's paying a certain price for the overhype. Its ticket prices and promotion have grown humbler. I would also hope they still don't have so many people in the lobby being quite so pushy about selling you t-shirts and other souvenirs. (I really think that harmed the show a bit for some folks. It did for me. Made it feel like you were filing in to a ride at Disneyland, not a Broadway musical.) I assume they haven't changed a few of the musical numbers that ended with a soft thud but there's still enough in there that you can leave humming something.
But I don't know the math on this kind of thing and it may well be in trouble. If so, I wonder what this means for the future of the show. The New York production is so expensive and elaborate, I can't imagine any regional theater ever mounting a comparable production. That might be a good thing because in some ways, the show is diminished by its size. I actually think the show could lose its rough edges if its creative team — or others they empowered — did some more work on it.
Alan Jay Lerner once wrote that the reason Camelot was not as fine a show as he wanted it to be was that they had too large an advance sale. Coming as it did from the same crew that had just done My Fair Lady, the show could not delay its New York opening long enough to fix all that needed fixing. They'd sold too many tickets for the Broadway run. Also, the show was so costly with its lush sets and costumes that it was difficult to rewrite and in many ways a prisoner of its technical needs. They actually wound up making some significant changes, including cutting two songs, several months after the show had begun playing in New York.
That almost never happens. If a show is changed after it opens on Broadway, it's usually only to scale back its budget, not to improve things. I don't think they've done either with Young Frankenstein. Maybe they could.
One of my favorite "kid's shows" (which is to say it was not just for kids) was Hot Dog, which ran on NBC Saturday morning back in 1970. That was the year that network yielded to rather feeble public pressures and tried to program their kidvid lineup with more "enlightening" shows. The entire schedule suffered a humiliating rejection in the ratings, partly (I thought) because kids wanted comedy and adventure, not school on Saturday mornings; partly because (I thought) most of the educational shows weren't very good.
An exception was Hot Dog, which was a show about how things were made. They'd show you how things were made but before and during the presentation, there'd be little spots with three "experts" — Jonathan Winters, Woody Allen and Joanne Worley — offering their insights on the topics for that week.
Here's four and half minutes of Hot Dog, tackling the burning question of how to make a baseball glove. Ms. Worley isn't in this one but Woody Allen discusses the subject at hand (all improvised on the spot) and Jonathan Winters does a brilliant bit of mime with vocal sound effects. The off-camera voice you'll hear asking questions — and I'll bet he's one of the people you'll hear laughing at Johnny Winters, too — is Frank Buxton, a friend and frequent contributor to this site. Actually, several people involved in the making of Hot Dog read this site but only one of them, and it isn't Frank, has the power to get Hot Dog released on DVD. I wish this person would get off his ass and arrange it.
The other night at the Sondheim event, the introductions were done by a gentleman whose name I didn't catch. But I do remember something he said and I've been thinking about it. Here's an approximation of his words...
Later, there will be a Q-and-A session and I'm sorry to say I need to explain to people what the "Q" means. It means you ask a question. A question is a sentence that begins with an interrogatory pronoun and it ends with a question mark and your voice goes up at the end. And it's one sentence. If it's more than one sentence, it's not a question. This is not an audition. It is not about you. We don't need to hear what the first Sondheim show was you saw and how it forever changed your life. Just ask a real question and sit down.
As you know, I moderate a lot of public events and while I occasionally say a little of that, I never go that far. I think I'm going to start...or, better still, consider skipping the "questions from the floor" portion entirely. It's been clear to me that many audiences do not want the kind of audience participation that usually occurs these days.
The folks at the Sondheim interview cheered the admonition. An open mike at a public event has increasingly become a magnet for people who should not be allowed near open mikes at public events. Audiences have begun to dread that portion of the program and to regard it as the signal that the event they came to see has come to an end. Thereafter, they can either leave (many do at that point) or sit there and cringe as control passes from the person they wanted to hear and goes to some stranger who, but for this opportunity, would never be speaking in front of a real audience and/or to someone of importance.
This seems like a new trend to me. I don't recall it happening much at lectures and panels I attended in the sixties, seventies and eighties, but it got going in the nineties and has sadly become the norm in this century.
There are always tip-offs, always danger signs. One is when someone camps out at the microphone in the aisle for the entire talk, waiting for their chance. That guy, you just know is there to hijack the attention. The person who gets up and starts with "On behalf of everyone here..." or "And I know I speak for everyone..." is about to say something just to force the audience to applaud, and they probably think that applause is for them.
I have also seen great gymnastics of segue performed to formulate a question that seems to make it natural for the question-asker to mention their own current projects or even perform a bit. One time, I was interviewing Ray Bradbury. The first guy at the mike — who'd been poised there since before Ray and I arrived on stage — just wanted to say how much Ray's work had inspired his own, beginning efforts and he wanted to read aloud a passage from one of those stories to demonstrate this. If I hadn't stopped him, he'd have turned the rest of the hour into a books-on-tape recital.
I see the worst of it when I host panels about Cartoon Voicing. We always seem to get an audience member who aspires to that profession — not that there's anything wrong with so aspiring — but wants to ask for advice in a couple of different voices and accents. The panels themselves are always great and no one leaves...up until the moment when I say, "Let's take some questions from the floor." That's when people figure it's over and they start trudging out...so I'm going to stop saying it. Or at least, I'll be much ruder if I do say it and the first lady at the mike has a question she's been dying to have answered but which can only be asked in her Bart Simpson impression.
Anyway, that's what I've been waiting my whole life to say, and I know I speak for everyone when I say it...and by the way, my new book is available from Amazon. Thank you. Oh, and one more thing — on behalf of everyone here, I really want to thank you for everything you've done...and is it okay if I give out my website address and pass out some flyers I happen to have along?
Someone at the convention on Saturday asked why, of all the pundits and commentators on the Internet, I keep linking to Fred Kaplan. It's because he writes columns like this one. If you never click on my Fred Kaplan links, at least click on that one.
It's a clear, concise and factually-sound explanation of why the Iraq War is such an unwinnable mess. Here, I'll even quote the beginning of it to get you started. Kaplan starts by writing, "Imagine it's early 2003, and President George W. Bush presents the following case for invading Iraq:"
We're about to go to war against Saddam Hussein. Victory on the battlefield will be swift and fairly clean. But then 100,000 U.S. troops will have to occupy Iraq for about 10 years. On average, nearly 1,000 of them will be killed and another 10,000 injured in each of the first 5 years. We'll spend at least $1 trillion on the war and occupation, and possibly trillions more. Toppling Saddam will finish off a ghastly tyranny, but it will also uncork age-old sectarian tensions. More than 100,000 Iraqis will die, a few million will be displaced, and the best we can hope for will be a loosely federated Islamic republic that isn't completely in Iran's pocket. Finally, it will turn out that Saddam had neither weapons of mass destruction nor ties to the planners of 9/11. Our intervention and occupation will serve as the rallying cry for a new crop of terrorists.
...and you can read onward from there. I hope you do.
Tomorrow (Wednesday) between the hours of 4 PM and 6 PM Pacific, you'll want to click on the banner above so you can listen to Yours Truly when I guest for the eleven thousandth time on Stu's Show, the flagship program on Shokus Internet Radio. That's right. I'm doing it again and for a change, we're going to talk about me! We'll probably spend a little time on my new book, Kirby: King of Comics, but Stu wants to spend most of the show discussing my work for eight years as writer, co-producer and voice director on Garfield and Friends...the job that has put me where I am today: Writing more Garfield cartoons.
We'll not only be chatting about that show but there may even be a phone call from one or two folks involved in that show, plus there'll be the golden opportunity for you to phone in and ask questions. Sounds like a plan.
Just to make sure everyone understands: This is not a podcast, not something you can download and listen to whenever it pleases you. This is like radio only it's over the Internet. You have to tune in when the show is broadcast, which is tomorrow at 4 PM Pacific Time, 7 PM on the East Coast, other corresponding times in other places. It repeats, usually in the same time slot, throughout the following week but you won't have the fun of listening to it as we do it and you won't be able to call in.
So listen tomorrow, which will mean clicking on one of the links here and following the brief instructions. You can actually tune in to the channel right now and hear something you'll enjoy even if it isn't me. Go test and see how easy it is and notice how you can go right on working on your computer, downloading porn or mass-mailing Cialis ads or
whatever you do all day, while you listen.
This is a two-part video link. It runs about fourteen minutes and since YouTube has a ten minute limit for most clips, it's been chopped into two videos. You can play one right after the other in the player below.
With all that in mind, we bring you today's feature: Mr. Magoo Gets a Colonoscopy. Sorry it's a little out of sync...
Slate is asking a number of folks who once supported the Iraq War and now don't how they got it wrong in the first place. I'm interested to read all the responses, which will be appearing throughout the week over there, but I was especially interested to read Fred Kaplan.
First, a P.S. on Yesterday's Video Link: If you watched the linked episode of Hoppity Hooper, you saw the mention of a Baldwin Boulevard. That's a reference to animator/director Gerard Baldwin, who did most of the work on that cartoon.
For today: A new interepretation of Swan Lake by a Chinese troupe that combines ballet with acrobatics. Some very amazing stuff in there.
One good thing about driving up north to the memorial service for Dave Stevens: Bill Stout found what may be the best barbecue restaurant I've ever been in. This recommendation won't do most of you a bit of good because it's in Modesto and when in hell are you ever going to be anywhere near Modesto? For that matter, when in hell am I ever going to be anywhere near Modesto again? Our glee at finding a great place for BBQ was tempered by the knowledge that there is no conceivable scenario that could ever bring either of us close enough to consider another meal at Doc's Q'in Pit Stop.
That's the name of the place and I gather it hasn't been there for long. Should you find yourself in Modesto some day soon, stop in. If you don't have the address, just roll down your car windows and cruise the town until you smell the greatest smell in the world coming from the big woodfire cooker out front.
I never know how to write about funerals. You can't really say "I had a good time," at least not in the sense you can have a good time at a great movie or play. You're there because a loved one died and even if — as in the case of our pal, Dave Stevens — death means an end to the agony of dying, it's still not a festive occasion. Try as you may to think of it as a beginning of something better (or of anything), your mind keeps coming back to the loss of a friend...and in this case, the untimeliness of it all. Dave was only 52 and when it was my turn to speak, one of the things that spilled out was, "Like all of you, I don't understand why we have to do this now, instead of forty or fifty years from now, as might make sense."
Obviously, you now know where I was today. It was quite a journey. The memorial for Dave was in Turlock, California — a little more than 300 miles north of Los Angeles, and we drove up in the morning and back in the evening. "We" in this case is myself and the fine illustrator, and Dave's close friend and former studio-mate, Bill Stout. And actually, Bill drove while I navigated and regaled him with anecdotes. It's fortunate I have a lot of anecdotes because it was five hours each way.
We weren't the only ones who made the trip. A number of Dave's comrades in the comic art community converged on Turlock, including Mike Richardson, Bob Chapman, Bud Plant, Bernie Wrightson, William Wray, Kayre Morrison, Jim Silke, and Richard and Alice Hescox. We were all made to feel quite welcome by the Stevens family and their local friends, who arranged a totally appropriate and moving tribute, complete with a fine display of Dave's artistry. I shouldn't write too much about this because it was, after all, a private ceremony...but we go to funerals, at least in part, to say with our presence that the deceased mattered a lot to us. So I wanted you all to know that Dave mattered a lot to a lot of people.
We also go for a sense of closure...and while I will never be entirely comfortable with the whole concept of losing a great guy like Dave Stevens, nor should we ever be, I am a bit more at peace with the idea than I was before. (For those of you in Southern California who need a similar release: There's talk of a local, public memorial in a few weeks. I'll announce it here if it happens.)
We all love Jay Ward for the cartoons of Rocky & Bullwinkle, Dudley Do-Right, Mr. Peabody, Fractured Fairy Tales, Aesop and Son, Super Chicken, Tom Slick and George of the Jungle...but that's not the whole list. Whenever people get to discussing the output of the Ward studio, they seem to forget Hoppity Hooper, a series they produced in and around 1964. 52 cartoons were made and they aired for years in various packages, combined with earlier Ward cartoons and sometimes with selections from Total Television, a sister company. I thought it was a clever show with an irresistible performance by Hans Conried as Professor Waldo Wigglesworth.
Hoppity Hooper was created and the first two cartoons were animated in 1960. They comprised a pilot for a prime-time cartoon series, done more or less concurrently with Hanna-Barbera's The Flintstones. Oddly enough, both shows featured actor Alan Reed doing voices. He was Fred on The Flintstones and Fillmore Bear on Hoppity Hooper. When the H-B show sold and Ward's didn't, Jay began shopping his unsold pilot around...and it took until '64 to make a sale. ABC daytime ordered a series and that's when the other 50 cartoons were produced. Alan Reed was busy Yabba-Dabba-Dooing at the time so Bill Scott, who was Ward's producer and head writer, assumed the role of Fillmore Bear.
In today's link, we're going to watch the second episode, which was part of the pilot. Mr. Conried is the voice of Professor Wiggleworth and also of the master villain at the end. Chris Allen, a voice actress about whom little is known, spoke for the title character. Alan Reed is still Fillmore, the narrator is Paul Frees, and all the other roles are Frees, Allen or Bill Scott. Wish someone would put the whole series out on DVD.
You know, I wish there was a place on the Internet where you could see the form on which famed Stooge Moe Howard registered for the draft for World War I. But I suppose that's asking too much.
[CORRECTION: No, it isn't. Thanks to James H. Burns for making my dream come true.]
I spent most of today down at Wizard World, a packed gathering at the L.A. Convention Center, where I dutifully signed my name in lots of copies of Kirby: King of Comics.
Let me get my complaints out of the way first, and note that none of these are complaints about Wizard World. I don't like the L.A. Convention Center. The parking is confusing (and twelve bucks) and I still don't understand why the food at convention centers has to be so bad and so overpriced. I was also annoyed that the city is tearing up Olympic Boulevard east of Alvarado...a fact I mention to aid anyone who's thinking of attending the convention tomorrow.
If they go, they'll see a lot of people dressed in costumes, a lot of semi-celebrities selling autographs, a lot of exhibitors selling toys and video and fancy superhero-related merchandise and even some comic books. Most of the attendees seemed to be having a very good time. I was especially struck by the high quality of the artists in Artists Alley...some real good folks there doing sketches and/or selling small press publications.
They won't see me as I have an important engagement tomorrow...one that will also keep me from blogging all day, I expect. But there's so much happening down at Wizard World, I know I won't be missed. Here's info on the event.
Fans of classic cartoon voices will be interested in this 1989 news clip that reports on the pending death of Mel Blanc and the recent death of Jim Backus. That all sounds morbid, and it is, but I'm linking to it because it includes a clip of Mr. Backus telling a great anecdote I'd never heard about working with James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause. Check it out just for that.
I've been curious about the financial fate of Young Frankenstein, the Mel Brooks musical. I saw the show last November and enjoyed it but apparently a fair amount of theatergoers haven't liked it and many who might have attended haven't gone. Tepid reviews are one reason but according to this article, a lot of folks have been scared off by high prices. The prices are no longer high and there are now TV commercials that emphasize the point...but audiences still don't seem to be flocking to it.
For the last few years, Stephen Sondheim and New York Times writer Frank Rich have been appearing here and there around the country for little conversations that, I gather, don't vary a lot. Mr. Rich asks Mr. Sondheim about Jerry Robbins and Ethel Merman and Company and other topics that trigger great anecdotes, and Mr. Sondheim responds in kind for about 90 minutes. Last night, they took their dog 'n' pony show to Royce Hall up at UCLA, and Carolyn and I were there...in the worst seats in the house but it almost didn't matter.
Most of the stories weren't new to anyone who's seen or read the few recorded/published Sondheim interviews, and large chunks of the man's oeuvre went unmentioned. Still, there was something enlightening about being in his presence, hearing him talk in such an unaffected manner about his work and all the brilliant folks who participated in it. He's really quite an amazing thinker and as much as I enjoyed hearing him, I wished Mr. Rich was challenging him in even the slightest manner, getting him to furrow his brow a bit and perhaps improvise a bit.
Which is not to say I didn't have a great time. My favorite story, which I've heard several times before, was as follows. It was during the creation of Gypsy that he and Jule Style were invited to play some of the score for Cole Porter, who was retired and unwell. Sondheim was singing "Together, Wherever We Go" and he came to the release which goes...
Wherever I go, I know he goes
Wherever I go, I know she goes
No fit, no fights, no feuds and no egos
Amigos!
Together!
When he hit the word "amigos," he heard Porter say "Ahh" in an approving, surprised way. It was very typical of Porter's work to surprise the listener with a foreign word like that and as Sondheim put it, "He hadn't seen the fourth rhyme coming and it delighted him." Sondheim was about 24 years old at the time and he still calls it the proudest moment of his life.
At the end, the evening's host (the gent who'd introduced Sondheim and Rich) came out to announce that Stephen's birthday is coming up — it's March 22nd, I see — and Los Angeles had to have its opportunity to sing "Happy Birthday" to him...so out came a cake and we all stood and sang a tune that Mr. Sondheim probably hears and thinks, "Gosh, that song's sung more often than all the songs I've written, put together." Or maybe Sondheim, who spoke of loving to have order in his life and of his one-time longing to be a mathematician, was thinking it was a bit premature to be celebrating. Whatever was on his mind, he didn't seem all that thrilled with the effort, but he probably understood that everyone in the audience loved him. Which was pretty much what the evening was about.
Fred Kaplan has a peachy suggestion on what George W. Bush should do once he's out of office. But somehow, I suspect that Bush will instead choose to accept huge speaking fees and various rewards from the corporations he's helped make so much money during his eight years in office.
I'll be at the Wizard World convention in Los Angeles, down at the Convention Center, all day Saturday and much of Sunday. If you want to get a copy of Kirby: King of Comics signed, wander by Booth 633. That's the space of my friend Steve Wyatt. He'll have a pile of books for sale and for a few hours each day, he'll have me. Also: On Saturday from 5 PM to 6 PM, I'll be hosting a discussion of Jack and the book in the Wizard Auditorium.
Those of you on the East Coast needn't feel neglected. I'll also be a guest at the New York Comic Con, which is being held April 18-20 at the Javits Center. There will also be a panel there about Jack, plus there will be a tribute panel for the late Steve Gerber...and I may also do a couple of panels about folks who are alive. I'll be signing the book at the convention, and then on Friday evening, April 18, I'll be doing that at Jim Hanley's Universe, a fine store situated on West 33rd St., just a giant ape's throw from the Empire State Building.
Where else am I going? Right now, to bed. It's late. Good night, Internet!
Ted Carey writes about the trailer for All That Jazz which we featured here yesterday...
I worked as an usher in the local movie theater while in college and this is the preview we showed all through the busy Christmas Season in 1979, which meant viewers of films like Kramer vs. Kramer and The Rose were getting this preview. When we started showing All That Jazz in January, there wasn't a night where (usually by the time Young Joe climaxes during his dance routine) patrons wouldn't be out in the lobby to complain about the nature of the movie and asking if this was the same film they had seen previews for. Many specifically said they were expecting A Chorus Line. Many were older women (although all of a sudden, fifty isn't all that old, eh?) who had (for the most part) never been to an "R" rated movie before. We rarely ever had patrons asking for their money back, no matter how bad the movie was — I'll say it didn't happen five times a year. For All That Jazz, it wasn't unusual to have that many and more ask each showing and I always knew it was because these people felt they had been deceived. We always gave full cash refunds (often for the popcorn and drinks as well as the ticket) and often threw in a free pass for another night.
That being said, I always enjoyed the movie and it did good business for the month or so we showed it.
Yeah, it's kind of a deceptive trailer...and it's interesting that they used the "Bye Bye Life" song in it. I would have thought they'd want to hide all suggestions that it was a movie about Death and instead use "On Broadway" or some other tune.
I would have thought a lot of patrons would have walked out and demanded refunds when they got to the scenes of open heart surgery. I once met Wallace Shawn, who was in the film...but he told me that many people didn't know that. The reason was that his scenes were intercut with the open heart footage and (he said) much of the audience either closed their eyes or walked out then. (Remember Johnny Carson's line about those scenes? He said, "Every filmgoer in America should be glad that Bob Fosse didn't have a proctology operation.")
Some time ago here, we discussed the 1961 primetime cartoon series, Calvin and the Colonel, but I never got around to linking to a clip. Here's one of the two sets of opening and closing titles that the show had during its one season. The theme song was catchy but I never thought it was a great program, and am not surprised that it didn't catch on.
The end credits contain the names of some very talented folks who were then working in the animation business, though it's hard to read some of them. It's especially hard to read the credits for the background painters because of the color used to paint the background behind their names. I guess that's fitting...or something.
Are you looking for great old comic books at good prices? Would you like to do a good deed for a good guy? You can do both at the same time.
For years now, one of the friendliest, comics-loving dealers in old funnybooks has been a gentleman named Bob Beerbohm. If you go to many conventions, you've probably passed his booth and maybe browsed and/or bought. You might also have spent some time discussing comic book history with Bob, because he's one of those great scholars, digging out hitherto-unchronicled information. Much of what is known about the industry's past is known because of Bob Beerbohm.
Bob is in need of dual hip replacements. This is not cheap and Bob is planning to go overseas for the work because the cost in this country is just too high. Even then, he needs to raise a lot of money and soon.
He is not asking for charity. He's just hoping a lot of people will browse his "for sale" list and buy stuff. Here's a link to his website so you can see what he has up for sale and buy some good comics for good prices for a good cause. I've known Bob for years and he's an honest fellow and most deserving of your attention.
It's sometimes interesting to look at movie trailers and consider what was on the mind of the person who cut the thing together: What selling points were they pushing? What concerns about the film's marketability were they trying to finesse or work around? I've met folks in this line of work who were very proud that they were handed a turgid drama to sell and they managed to generate a trailer that made it look like a wacky teen comedy.
This is a short (minute and a half) trailer for the movie, All That Jazz. I have no idea who assembled it or what was on their mind(s)...but it looks like the marching orders went something like this: "The reviews and negative feedback are all grousing that it's a self-indulgent romp about this character Roy Scheider plays, with Bob Fosse dragging everyone into his neurosis. So don't mention Fosse and don't make it look like a movie about this one guy. Make it seem like a film about the magic and drama of show business."
Or something like that. Take a look and see if you don't agree someone was trying to make moviegoers think this was the film version of A Chorus Line.
The Los Angeles Times has an obituary up for our pal, Dave Stevens. They also have a shorter blog piece about Dave.
There are some other nice pieces about Dave on the web. Tom Spurgeon has an excellent, exhaustive obit. Dave's old co-worker William Wray wrote his thoughts. And the webmaster of Dave's website has set up this page where fans and friends can post tributes and comments, and that page contains a number of other links.
Juan Cole makes the case that John McCain is essentially running for George W. Bush's third term. I think this is a fair and apt viewpoint, though it may not be as we get closer to Election Day. Seems to me that McCain needs to wrap up the nomination, make the convention go as smoothly as possible and unite as much of the party as can be united, plus he needs to not provoke third-party runs to his right. Once he's got all that, and extracted as much as can be extracted from right-wing sources of campaign $$$, then he'll start finding ways to make himself more acceptable to those who think Bush has been a disaster. I suspect there are more of those than even the lowest poll numbers indicate and that their ranks will only grow.
It's an early commercial for Kellogg's Sugar Frosted Flakes...which is what I'll always call them. Oh, they can take the world "sugar" off the box. They can even change the formula, as rumor has it they've done. They're still Sugar Frosted Flakes. Can't fool me.
That is, of course, the late Thurl Ravenscroft supplying the voice of Tony the Tiger. I'm not sure who the announcer is...sounds a little like Bud Sewell but maybe not. Give a listen.
I want to thank everyone who wrote notes of shock and regrets about Dave Stevens. I have more than eighty such e-mails so I may not get around to answering them all for a while.
I appreciate the thought and I hope this doesn't sound callous or rude but I'd really prefer that, instead of composing private messages to me, you spent the same energy posting to public forums, telling folks who might not fully realize, what a terrific human being and artist he was. I don't need to be told that...and I also feel uncomfy to be getting all these condolences when so many out there are in mourning for our pal. Dave had an awful lot of friends including — and my e-mailbox is crammed with proof of this — many he didn't even know.
Tomorrow on Stu's Show, our fave web-based radio program, host Stuart Shostak welcomes the amazing mouth of Fred Travalena. I love great impressionists and Fred's about as good as they get. In fact, he's pretty darn entertaining when he's singing or speaking in the voice of Fred Travalena, too. If you've never seen him perform live, you've missed something. Don't miss this chance to hear him interviewed...and put through his paces as Stu and his phone-in callers challenge Fred to summon up his great celebrity voice simulations. If you call in, ask him to do a little Sinatra.
Stu's Show airs live on Wednesday, then repeats throughout the week. This is not a podcast you can download or listen to whenever you want. It's like a radio broadcast only it's over the Internet and you can listen to it on your computer while you do other things on it. The show airs from 4 PM to 6 PM Pacific Time (7 PM to 9 PM Eastern) and you can listen in by going to the website of Shokus Internet Radio during those hours. You can also hear many wonderful things on S.I.R. at all hours of the day.
I'm sorry to say it's a Two Obits Day here at newsfromme.com.
Jerry Serpe, who may hold some record for the most comic books colored, died Monday in Florida. Serpe was a longtime employee of DC Comics, dating from the mid-forties. Before that, he worked for a company called Photochrome that handled coloring and color separation work on many of DC's publications, and when Photochrome went out of business, he and a man named Jack Adler moved over to work for DC.
Serpe colored thousands of comic books — issues of everything the company published during his tenure, and also did extensive production work, including art corrections and touch-ups. Few knew his name but every DC reader saw his handiwork and he even occasionally did a bit of artwork for public service or filler pages that ran in the company's books. For an extended period through the fifties and sixties, Adler was primarily in charge of the coloring of covers while Serpe supervised (and often, did) the coloring of the insides. For much of this time, DC did the color separations for the covers in-house, and Serpe did much of this work, as well.
In the late sixties, DC stopped doing color seps in-house and scaled back that department. Serpe seized on a fortuitous pension opportunity to leave the company. Thereafter, he ran an outside printing business and occasionally freelanced for DC. Eventually, he sold his interest in the printing company and began doing more freelance coloring but during the eighties, with so many new colorists entering the business, the available work declined.
Around that time, I was doing Blackhawk for DC with artist Dan Spiegle, and we had to pick a new colorist for the book. Several young and talented folks were suggested and even recommended but Dan was not always happy with the current trends in comic book coloring. I suggested he look through his pile of recent printed comics and see which coloring his work had received that pleased him. He did, deciding that a certain Sgt. Rock Annual had been tinted to his liking. It ran with no coloring credit so I called up Bob Rozakis, who was then in charge of DC's coloring department and told him, "Look that one up. Whoever colored it...that's the person we want." Bob checked the files and was delighted to find it was not one of the new kids but an old pro — Jerry Serpe, who wasn't doing much for the company by then.
Jerry colored the remaining issues of Blackhawk and did a fine job. When he got the gig, he called me up to say thanks. He was especially pleased that he'd won a "blind taste test" and been hired on nothing more than the merits of his work. And why not? It was always good.
[NOTE: I did a rewrite on this piece at 4:15 PM to correct some facts and add some details. Sadly, not a whole lot has ever been written about guys like Jerry Serpe so it's uncharted territory. Thanks to Paul Levitz for some info.]
Illustrator Dave Stevens, best known for his "good girl" art and The Rocketeer, died yesterday following a long, wrenching battle with Leukemia. Dave was born July 29, 1955 in Lynwood, California. He was raised in Portland, Oregon, then his family relocated to San Diego, where he attended San Diego City College and became involved in the early days of the San Diego Comic Book Convention, now known as the Comic-Con International. His skills as an artist were instantly evident to all, and he was encouraged by darn near every professional artist who attended the early cons, but especially by Jack Kirby and Russ Manning. In 1975, when Manning began editing a line of Tarzan comic books to be published in Europe, Dave got his first professional assignment, working on those comics and also assisting Russ with the Tarzan newspaper strip. Soon after, he worked on a few projects for Marvel (including the Star Wars comic book) and a number of underground comics. Later, he also worked with Russ on the Star Wars newspaper strip.
In 1977, Dave went to work for Hanna-Barbera where he drew storyboards and layouts, many of them for the Super Friends and Godzilla cartoon shows and bonded with veteran artist Doug Wildey, who produced the latter. Wildey and Stevens became close friends and in 1982, when Dave created his popular character, The Rocketeer, he modelled the character's sidekick, Peevy, on photos of Doug. Dave himself was Cliff Secord, who donned the mask of The Rocketeer, and other friends appeared in other guises.
The Rocketeer made Dave's reputation and also spawned a resurgence of interest in fifties' figure model Bettie Page, whose likeness Dave used for the strip's heroine. But the strip was not profitable for Dave, who was among the least prolific talents to ever attempt comic books. It wasn't so much that he was slow, as his friends joked, but that he was almost obsessively meticulous, doing days of study and sketching to create one panel, and doing many of them over and over. Even then, he was usually dissatisfied with what he produced and fiercely critical of the reproduction. Friends occasionally pitched in to help with the coloring but some begged off because they knew it was humanly impossible for anyone, including Dave himself, to produce coloring that he'd like. Eventually, he sold most of the rights to Disney for a Rocketeer movie that was produced in 1991. Dave served as a co-producer of the film and did a brief cameo, but the endeavor was not as lucrative for him as he'd hoped, and it pretty much ended Dave's interest in continuing the character.
Most of what Dave did after that fell into the general category of "glamour art," including portfolios and private commissions. Many of these were illustrations of Bettie Page who, though once thought deceased, turned out to be alive and living not all that far from Dave. They met and Dave became her friend and, though he was not wealthy, benefactor. Deciding that too many others had callously exploited her likeness, Dave voluntarily aided Ms. Page financially and even took to helping her in neighborly ways. One time, he told me — and without the slightest hint of resentment — "It's amazing. After years of fantasizing about this woman, I'm now driving her to cash her Social Security checks."
Dave was truly one of the nicest people I have ever met in my life...and was certainly among the most gifted. Our first encounter was at Jack Kirby's house around 1971 when he came to visit and show Jack some of his work. As I said, Kirby was very encouraging and he urged Dave not to try and draw like anyone else but to follow his own passions. This was advice Dave took to heart, which probably explains why he took so long with every drawing. They were rarely just jobs to Dave. Most of the time, what emerged from his drawing board or easel was a deeply personal effort. He was truly in love with every beautiful woman he drew, at least insofar as the paper versions were concerned. (Dave was married once...for six months to the prolific movie actress, Brinke Stevens, and she retained his last name after they divorced.)
Dave's illness these last few years was a poorly-kept secret among his friends, but he insisted that it be kept quiet, and struggled to make occasional public appearances. We tried to get together for dinner every month or so but it wound up being more like every six months. The last time, he joked that it was lucky he had such a reputation for slow production. Now that he was unable to work for weeks at a time, no one noticed that his output had declined. His main efforts went towards an "Art of Dave Stevens" book he was struggling to assemble. Mostly though that evening, we talked about comics and comic artists. Dave was a fan in the very best sense.
I don't really know how to end this and maybe I don't want to...because it will mean another level of loss regarding one of my closest friends. As long as I can keep writing about him, I feel he's still with me in some manner. And the thought of losing a great guy like Dave Stevens is just too, too sad. He was truly loved and admired by all who knew him. I'll post information about a memorial service, if and when I hear about that kind of thing.
Many websites this A.M. are featuring articles about "the controversy about Eliot Spitzer." What exactly is the controversy here? He got caught frequenting an expensive prostitute. He admitted it and apologized. He's dickering now for the best deal he can make to trade his resignation for a plea bargain on whatever crimes he might be charged with. When he gets it, which will probably be any day now, he'll quit and disappear from public life, probably forever but certainly for a long time.
The only "controversy" I see is over what percentage of his fall is due to personal immorality and what percentage is sheer stupidity. Otherwise, I think everyone's pretty much on the same page with this one.
I always liked the 1965 pop song, "Cara Mia" as recorded by Jay and the Americans. If you don't remember it, I'll refresh your memory. Here's that group performing it that year on the ABC teen music show, Shindig...
Okay now. The gentleman singing lead on this number is Jay Black, who'd changed his name from David Blatt when he joined the group. He was the second Jay in Jay and the Americans, having replaced the first guy (John "Jay" Traynor) in 1962. Bookings for the group declined in the early seventies and they went on to solo careers, reuniting occasionally for oldie shows. Around the turn of this century, they made a couple of memorable appearances on "oldies" specials and the clip below is them doing "Cara Mia" on one such program.
I think this is a great musical moment. Black's voice was obviously not what it once was but this is a very difficult song and it's amazing that, 35 or so years later, he sounded as good as he did. The crowd obviously recognized the feat they were hearing and responded accordingly...
In case you're interested, a group still tours by that name but it features a third Jay — John "Jay" Reincke. Black somehow wound up with ownership of the group's name but lost it in a 2006 bankruptcy filing. Some of the other members of the original group bought it and brought in Reincke and now they tour as Jay and the Americans while Jay Black tours with his own band and (I assume) sings a lot of the same tunes. Jay and the Americans had a stunning 21 records on the charts, including several Number Ones, so there's a lot of good material there to perform...enough for at least two Jays and maybe more.
Eliot Spitzer. I don't particularly care about the moral issue of whoring around like that...or at least, I think we have a great many public officials doing things that are vastly more despicable, some of which are even legal. What I do think though if that if your job is to do things like bust call girl rings and you think you can get away with being a client at the same time, you oughta lose your job just for reasons of pure stupidity.
A quick sweep of news sites shows a lot of reports that he'd be announcing his resignation at 7 PM tonight Eastern time. It's that time now, he doesn't seem to be resigning and it would appear those sites are going back and tempering those reports. How long do we think it'll be before they're announcing the resignation and getting it right?
And how happy do we think Larry Craig is about this? It oughta cut the jokes about him by at least two-thirds.
I used to have a close buddy who worked in aerospace and who was always pestering me to tell him little Show Biz News Items that weren't yet announced...things he could tell his co-workers and impress them. Every so often, I'd hear about some show being cancelled or some casting change before it became common knowledge. I'd tell him and then he'd tell all the folks at McDonnell-Douglas and he enjoyed this very much.
So now you remember when Shelley Long left Cheers? That was a big news story for a week or so there, and many were wondering who'd replace her. I was talking to one of the story editors on that series during this period (Cheri Steinkellner, who later became one of the producers there) and she told me that they'd just signed Kirstie Alley to more or less fill the slot Ms. Long had vacated. This had not been officially announced but it was not a secret and Cheri said it was okay to pass it on to l anyone I liked.
A few minutes later, with impeccable timing, my Aerospace Pal called to badger me for "inside info" he could spread at work. I told him about Kirstie Alley and he was ecstatic. It was a Sunday and I think he wanted to race to the office and camp outside so he could tell each and every employee as they arrived the next morning. I was thanked profusely.
Monday night, he called to thank me again. He'd told the news to everyone at the plant and had impressed the pants off of most of them. A few had questioned his info and without telling them how he knew it, he staked his reputation on it being true...and even staked some cash. Two co-workers had bet him a few dollars that it wasn't true and he'd taken the wager because he knew it was so. "Well," I said. "I'm glad you'll be making some bucks off Kirstie Alley's new contract." And I suddenly heard him cough and gasp.
"Kirstie Alley?" he moaned. "Did you tell me Kirstie Alley was joining the cast of Cheers?"
"Sure," I replied. "What did you tell everyone today?"
He coughed again and said, "I told them Ally Sheedy was joining the cast of Cheers."
Just finished a script and e-mailed it to the producer. You know, if I hadn't had to set all my clocks ahead over the weekend, I could have finished it at 4 AM.
This clip is just thirty seconds from a Three Stooges short but it's an interesting thirty seconds.
As we all learned in college, the third member of that famed comedy trio kept changing over the years. Moe and Larry were the constants but different men at different times held the exalted status of Stooge #3. Shemp (brother of Moe) was originally in that slot when they were a stage act. He left and was replaced by another brother, Jerry, who shaved his head and called himself Curly. I always liked Shemp and sometimes even Joe Besser better but even I have to admit that Curly was, out and away, the most popular of the "third" Stooges.
In 1946, Curly began having prolonged periods of illness, and Shemp began filling in for him during the team's occasional live stage appearances. In May of that year, Curly suffered a stroke and Shemp replaced him in the films in what was intended to be a temporary arrangement during the recovery period. This did not happen. Jerry/Curly never got to a point where he and his doctors felt he could resume performing and he died in early 1952 without ever returning to the screen...
...with one exception. In the third Stooges short with Shemp, Curly made a brief cameo appearance. It was called Hold That Lion, and it was released in 1947. The same footage was also used in another Stooge film, Booty and the Beast, released one year after Curly's death.
Our clip today is that scene...the only on-screen appearance to my knowledge of Moe Howard, Shemp Howard and Curly Howard, all together. It came about, they say, because Curly was visiting the set and someone thought it might bolster his sagging spirits. The scene was written on the spot and one can only wonder what audiences of the day thought. Even though he'd let his hair grow to human length, Curly was pretty recognizable. I'm sure some moviegoers assumed Shemp had taken over because the other guy had died...and now, here the other guy was in another film. Without further delay, we bring you the relevant half a minute of that film...
The current issue of Washington Monthly is devoted to the topic of Torture and Why We Shouldn't Do That. A vast array of writers, including some Conservatives, argue that it robs us of the moral high ground, lowers our standing in the world and — perhaps worst of all — doesn't work.
Obviously, I agree. But would someone who doesn't like to suggest some counter-argument articles to which I could link? I'm kinda hoping for one that isn't based around some "what if?" that sounds like a rejected 007 plot with an atom bomb set to explode at the Rose Bowl and the only way to stop it is to get a pair of needlenose pliers and yank out the fingernails of some enemy spy we've captured.
I've received a lot of contradictory e-mails from folks discussing the name of the Disney TV series on which the Texas John Slaughter episodes aired. All the folks who told me it was The Wonderful World of Disney or Disney's Wonderful World of Color or any other such permutation were wrong. I was also wrong when I said it was Disneyland, though I have a great excuse: The back of that Texas John Slaughter still I featured in this post said it was from the TV series, Disneyland.
The definitive answer comes from my old chum, Bill Cotter, who authored the (emphasis on "the") book on the subject, The Wonderful World of Disney Television. Bill's book is now out of print but that link will take you to an Amazon page via which you can usually snag a used copy for a reasonable price...and if you're interested in the subject, you should. Bill writes me to say...
10/31/058 was the debut of the show, and it was on Walt Disney Presents. This was the name of the anthology series between the two previously mentioned titles [Disneyland and The Wonderful World of Color], and it was used for three seasons (1958-1959, 1959-1960 and 1960-1961). After that it was on to color, and no more Texas John Slaughters, sad to say. That arc was one of my favorites of the time.
Bill also directs me (and therefore, you) to this page on his website which lists what was on those shows and when. This should settle matters.
I thought I'd linked to this once but I did a search and apparently not. It's another one of those Kellogg's cereal commercials I like so much because of master voiceman Daws Butler. Here, he's Snagglepuss leading us in a merry sing-a-long for the thing everyone loves to sing about...Kellogg's Cocoa Krispies.
You will notice that Daws gets a screen credit on this. If you're curious why, I explained it back in this post.
I was just reading a website with news of Las Vegas and there was an article about events that will be taking place in that town in honor of St. Patrick's Day. For some reason, these made me laugh...
McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood Restaurant - Happy St. Cabby’s Day. This is the fourth year for this "hail to the hack" celebration at M&S. Cab drivers who stop by between 8 a.m. and 9 a.m. will receive a complimentary breakfast of green eggs, ham, and Lucky Charms cereal.
Rio (McFadden's) - The party starts at 7 a.m. with $10 beer, breakfast, and Bloody Marys until 9 a.m. Xtreme radio 107.5 broadcasts live 3 p.m.-7 p.m. Make your own green bikini contest with $500 cash prize. Festivities include leprechauns, bagpipers, stilt walkers, and green beer.
Fitzgeralds - Festivities include a leprechaun lookalike contest and a green Jello eating contest. Triple points all day long.
And the rest are pretty much all special discounts on beer and ale, which is good because otherwise, people might not be inclined to drink on St. Patrick's Day. If I were Irish, I'd rush to be there...because nothing could celebrate my heritage better than green Jello, homemade green bikinis, a leprechaun lookalike contest and a nice bowl of Lucky Charms.
Here's an old commercial for Post Crispy Critters with the great character actor (and TV producer) Sheldon Leonard voicing the spokescharacter, Linus the Lionhearted...
...except that if you listen carefully, you may note that there are a couple of words in there dubbed by someone else imitating Mr. Leonard...an oddity I actually noticed when I saw this commercial back in the mid-sixties. I didn't know why then and I don't know why now so your guess is as good as mine. Most likely, something had to be done over and Sheldon was off doing I Spy or something.
A lot of us are still interested in the story that will never go away, the assassination of John F. Kennedy. If you're in this group, there is much to study over at this website where a Dallas TV station has set up an online archive of video from that day and relating to that day.
I must admit that I find my fascination with the story to be ebbing with each passing year. A decade or two ago, I came, almost reluctantly, to the conclusion that there was no conspiracy; that Lee Harvey Oswald was exactly what he appeared to be — a lone nut who single-handedly killed the President of the United States. I also came to the conclusion that some folks saw the facts otherwise and that there was little to be gained by debating with them since it meant going over and over well-trampled ground. But every now and then, I like to revisit an old semi-obsession so sites like that are nice to have around.
I find myself this morning in receipt of many an e-mail telling me, in terms only slightly more polite, that I'm a lunkhead and that the Disney TV series on which Texas John Slaughter appeared was called The Wonderful World of Color and not, as I asserted, Disneyland. No, I'm right about this. When it was in black-and-white on ABC, it was called Disneyland and when it switched in 1962 to NBC and was broadcast in color, then and only then was it called The Wonderful World of Color. It would not have been called The Wonderful World of Color when it was on ABC, back when I had Scarlet Fever. At the time, ABC was not in color. I, however, was a delightful shade of crimson.
I finally got around to watching the new production of Company that debuted recently on PBS. It's a record of the recent Broadway revival that was much-praised for its unique staging which most notably had all the actors carry instruments and occasionally play them. I was curious as to how this served the material...and I think I get it. Everyone on stage is making music from the start...everyone except Bobby, the guy who can't commit to a relationship. He only makes music twice in the show: Once, at a point where he still isn't ready to open himself up to another, he hauls out a kazoo and fakes a tune, only to find himself playing an awkward, unfinished solo. All his friends who are then on stage with him are couples and therefore able to perform in satisfying duets. Then at the end, when he comes to his moment of realization that this is not how he chooses to live, he instantly learns how to play the piano and sings "Being Alive." Because we all know you can't play a real musical instrument if you aren't in a relationship.
It's a cute, probably effective idea then and there, especially because Raúl Esparza really does sing the hell out of "Being Alive." That tune alone is worth, as they say, the price of admission and probably was on Broadway when tix were a hundred per. The actors-as-orchestra concept seems counter-productive in other moments, especially when others in Bobby's world seem to be hiding behind their instruments. One of the problems I've always had with Company, and why I like parts of it a lot but not the whole, is that the couples he knows seem so utterly dysfunctional. I don't like any of those people and don't see why Bobby has any reason to covet their lifestyles, other than the questionable premise that if you're going to be a neurotic, maybe it's better to pair off with another neurotic and share the experience. There is, of course, a solid case that can be made for the show's premise that you have to love somebody, not some body, but I don't think the show makes it. Matter of fact, I think on some levels, it argues the opposite.
The capper, "Being Alive," is a great song. I just don't see how Bobby gets to it...or why he gets to it. All of his male friends envy Bobby his freedom. All his female friends strike me as the "wrong" woman for him, especially the one he claims to want to marry. One friend of each gender wants to have recreational sex with him. How does any of this lead him where it leads him?
Still, the music was quite good, and Company was probably in dire need of a true staging rethink, getting away from the "seventies" look and feel that most productions seem to have. I always find this show fascinating and usually worth watching, though every time I see a version of it, I find myself looking past the great moments and regretting that they never seem to add up for me.
This is a commercial for Kellogg's Rice Krispies that I don't remember at all but it has Daws Butler in it so here it is. We'll link to anything with Daws Butler in it, end of argument. He does the voice of Snooper and Crackle, and he'd be doing the voice of Blabber Mouse if Blab had any lines. Don Messick, who was the "other" voice (besides Daws) in most Hanna-Barbera cartoons at the time does the voices of Snap and Pop. Later on, Messick did those voices for an awful long time in Rice Krispies ads that H-B had nothing to do with...so one wonders if that's how he got the long-term gig.
I recently found an old photo in my files and I thought you might enjoy hearing the tale behind it. Around 1960 at the tender age of eight, I came down with Scarlet Fever, a nasty little disease that had me confined to bed for several months. Most of this was spent reading — my obsession with comic books became especially acute during this period — and my father borrowed a little black-and-white TV from someone and set it up in my room so I could watch my favorite shows. He did this when he wasn't scurrying out to buy me more comic books or more comic books or more comic books. Did I ever tell you what a terrific father I had? Nicest man in the world and that's not just my opinion. They had a big vote and he won in a landslide.
One program that I watched often was Disneyland, the Walt Disney extravaganza that was then on ABC, and I especially watched it the weeks they featured a recurring western series called Texas John Slaughter. Every third or fourth week, the show would be given over to the adventures of the pioneer/cowboy hero, who was played by a handsome actor named Tom Tryon. More importantly, his wife was played by a wonderful actress named Betty Lynn. Betty has had a splendid career in films and television, working with practically everyone since the days she was a child star under contract to Twentieth-Century Fox, but if you know of her, it's probably for one role in particular. After Mr. Disney stopped making episodes of Texas John Slaughter, she went over and took the role of Thelma Lou, lady friend of Barney Fife (Don Knotts) on The Andy Griffith Show.
Why was I so interested in Betty Lynn? Easy. She lived next door to us. Betty was like my surrogate aunt. I still talk to her all the time and treat her as one would treat a close relative. A lovely woman...and she was not only our neighbor, not only a TV and movie star...she was even, in a Dell comic book drawn by my future collaborator Dan Spiegle, a comic book character!
One day, Tom Tryon was visiting her. Mr. Tryon later got out of acting and became a very successful author, but this was back when he was not only acting but Texas John Slaughter was a hit series and he was a pretty big star. Before they left for wherever they were going, Betty happened to mention to him that the little boy who lived next door was quite ill. Tryon instantly said, "Well, let me go visit him," and they came over...
...and you want to know what I remember of that visit? Absolutely nothing. Because I slept through it.
I'd been given some sort of medication that knocked me out and my parents were unable to wake me up to meet Tom "Texas John Slaughter" Tryon. They finally gave up and it was only later that evening, when I finally did come out of my drug-induced coma, that they told me he'd been there.
So that's the story of how I didn't meet a then-famous TV star...though I do have a souvenir of his visit. Look at what he left me!
For the first time in I-don't-know-how-long, I'm putting up the can of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup, which is an ancient Internet tradition, first invented by Leonardo da Vinci in the year 1502, I believe. It's the universal symbol for "too busy to post on the weblog or answer most e-mail."
In Lennie's case, he was busy painting the Mona Lisa and inventing Spaghetti-Os, the neat round spaghetti you can eat with a spoon. In my case, I have scripts that are due. I will be back with you as soon as the fiery hordes of deadlines are no longer singeing the hairs on my neck with their flaming exhales. Might be a few days. Might be sooner. Aloha!
Quite a few people (more than fifty) have written to tell me that Gary Gygax, the inventor (or maybe the co-inventor) of the game, "Dungeons & Dragons," died the other day. Many are writing on the presumption that since I haven't noted his passing here, I must not have noticed...or that I have and am deliberately ignoring it. One fellow on an Internet message board has vaulted to an especially erroneous assumption. Noting that I developed the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon series that was on CBS in the eighties, the fellow presumes that I am snubbing Mr. Gygax, "speaking volumes" with my silence in not honoring a man, he is sure, I must have worked with and for. He wrote, "What kind of grudge could Evanier be nursing that he has ignored the death of a close associate?"
Here's a pretty simple reply: I never met Gary Gygax, never worked with or for him, know absolutely nothing about him and — and here's the part you may not believe but it's true — never even played "Dungeons & Dragons." I was sorry to see the passing of a man who was responsible for something that brought so much joy to so many...but that's about all I can think of to say here. I'm sure there are others on the 'net who have something of substance to offer, and I'm sorry I don't. I'm especially sorry (in a different way) that anyone would assume any disrespect being implied to anyone's passing.
Stu Shostak's got a pair of great guests for tomorrow's live webcast of everyone's favorite Internet radio program about vintage television, Stu's Show. Tomorrow, he welcomes Ken Osmond and Frank Bank, who played Eddie Haskell and Lumpy Rutherford (respectively) on the classic sitcom, Leave It To Beaver. How great is that? You can listen in as Stuart interviews them or phone in and interview them, yourself. They'll tell you about working on that legendary program and about their lives since. (Frank is now a successful investment counselor, Eddie Ken has retired from the L.A.P.D.)
If you're a Beav fan, you are so there...and "there" is Shokus Internet Radio, which can be heard on any computer that receives the Internet at anything faster than about ten words a minute. This is not a podcast that you can access at any hour or download. This is a live broadcast and you have to listen in when it's on, which is tomorrow (Wednesday) at 4 PM Pacific Time, 7 PM in the East. (The show repeats throughout the week, usually in the same time slot, but it's more fun to listen live.) Just go to the website for Shokus Internet Radio at the proper time and do as instructed. In fact, you can go there right now and see how easy it is and maybe find another show you'll enjoy. The station is up and on the web 24/7 with programming that oughta delight anyone who finds it worth their time to come to this site.
A little more than ten years ago, I worked on a stealth cartoon series called Channel Umptee-3. Never heard of it? Neither has almost anyone else I've met, even though it was on the WB network for most of a year. It was an "educational" cartoon show produced in conjunction with Norman Lear's company and created by a brilliant cartoonist-writer named Jim George. Unfortunately at the time, it kind of got trampled over by a number of "high-profile" and exploitable shows that were around and which commanded more attention. At a comic convention a few years later, I asked a hall filled with maybe a thousand animation fans if anyone there had ever seen the show, and I think about six hands were raised...and not even all the way up, as if to say "I think so but I'm not sure."
We have for you today the opening and closing of an episode. The lead character, Ogden Ostrich, was voiced by Rob Paulsen, who is best known for playing Pinky on Pinky and the Brain, and he's Mr. Opportunity in those car commercials. Ogden's friend, Sheldon the Snail, was performed by David Paymer, who everyone seems to remember for his Oscar-nominated performance as Billy Crystal's brother in Mr. Saturday Night. There was an unofficial rule in Hollywood for about ten years there that you couldn't make a movie without David Paymer in it but I think this was his only cartoon series. The villain (you'll see and hear him in the opening) was voiced by the late Jonathan Harris, the constant Special Guest Star villain from the old live-action series, Lost in Space. All three of them are singing in the opening, along with a couple of other folks. The female voice you'll hear in there belongs to a fine singer/actress named Susanne Blakeslee.
If you stick around for the end credits and read quickly, you may spot some other familar names, including Nicola Cuti (who wrote the great comic book, E-Man), Scott Shaw! and my companion (and chicken pot roast maker), Carolyn Kelly. For some reason, my name is in there four times, which always makes me uncomfortable. I always ask to limit credits to one for fear that if I get too many on one project, I'll have to pay a royalty to Mel Brooks.
So this is a taste of Channel Umptee-3. I wish they'd put this show out on DVD, not because I'd expect to get any bucks off it but because it deserved a lot wider audience than it ever got.
Accusing a candidate of "flip-flops" only goes so far with me. I'm more leery of a guy who never changes his views, even in light of (often) evolving situations and new evidence, than I am of one who might appear to be consistent over the long haul. Maybe this isn't a great analogy but in my personal life, I've seen more destruction done by inflexibility than outright malice.
The thing is though that one needs to be honest that one is changing one's view. This need not be done by admitting one was wrong, though that doesn't hurt if you don't do too much of it. The world changes, things evolve, hitherto unknown facts become known...and it's not a sign of weakness or incompetence to say, "I believed X three years ago but now I believe Y." What bugs me and loses my backing is when a candidate isn't candid about moving from X to Y, and also when it seems obvious that the shift to Y is just because that's where the votes are at the moment.
Which, of course, brings us to John McCain, a man who has disappointed more human beings than the last three Rob Schneider movies, combined. Were we all wrong to believe he was such a man of character and courage? That when he called Jerry Falwell an "agent of intolerance" and apologized to all clowns for having said Rush Limbaugh was one, he actually meant it? Whatever, that sure isn't the John McCain who's going to be on our ballots later this year, no matter how hard he may try to shift to the left and distance himself from George W. Bush after he has the nomination and whatever cash he can extract from the far right.
Steve Benen itemizes some of the issues on which McCain has been on both sides. You get the feeling that'll be a much longer list by November and that it'll include a return to a lot of positions he once held and recently abandoned?
Speaking of odd acts that many people ripped off, a gentleman named Lou Goldstein made a very good living for a long time playing "Simon Says." He did it for years at Grossinger's, the famous Catskills resort, and developed an amazing repertoire of tricks and ways to entrap players. From the 'net, I gather he's still around but I haven't seen him anywhere for a long time.
For several years, he did the bit on those Battle of the Network Stars specials in the seventies and early eighties. I was present for one of the tapings (not the one in today's clip) and watched as he did about fifteen hilarious minutes which were edited for broadcast down to about six semi-funny minutes. The stars got very frustrated — one, even genuinely angry — as he bounced them out, but I think they all respected the skill and precision timing he brought to the routine. Here he is doing what he does/did best. Keep your eyes on Shatner and you might catch him cheating a little.
It was Bob Williams who had the act with the dog that didn't do anything. See? I remembered the "Bob" part. Thanks to Bruce Reznick, Stu Shostak, Kevin Greenlee and Dan Varner, who all e-mailed me within ten minutes of each other. Two of them also suggested this video link to a clip from Hollywood Palace. The first minute or so is a montage of novelty performers and the last few are Bob Williams with his dog, Louie. I think he had a couple of different dogs over the years, including one named Red Dust.
It's odd...I remember thinking this was the funniest act in the world when I was younger. Now, I'm a little more conscious of the fact that some animal acts are not very good to the animals and I can't help wondering how this pooch was treated. Maybe Louie was well fed and very happy but wondering about it gets in the way of enjoying the act for me.
I worked on a show once where they tried to book Bob Williams. As I recall, he wanted a sum of money that our producer thought was excessive and some agent had an imitation act that was priced more reasonably...so they hired this other guy, who wasn't nearly as funny. He treated his dogs (he used two) quite well and we even had a Humane Society rep on the set who concurred. So I tell myself Williams did likewise. Here's the clip. Bob Williams and Louie turn up for the second half of it.
There used to be a performer with a "dog act" where the dog did nothing. He'd trained (or maybe doped) the dog to just sit there and do nothing while he delivered a monologue that started with making excuses for the dog. It then segued to talking about his wife and his mother-in-law and the usual stand-up topics, and every so often, he'd turn to the dog and say, "Not going to do anything, huh?" A very funny act.
I remember seeing the guy on Ed Sullivan's show and on Hollywood Palace and all the expected venues. I remember reading that he made less money doing the act than he earned suing others who ripped off his act. What I don't remember — and someone just asked me — is the guy's name. Can anyone out there supply it? I'm thinking Bob Something.
On Friday, a couple of stops after the D.M.V., I went to Costco, intending to buy one particular piece of electronic equipment and then leave. Yeah, like there's a chance of that happening. The way things turned out, I found the item I'd come in for and put it in my basket. Then, since I hadn't eaten all day, I went to the rear of the store for some of what I call Costco Dim Sum. Those are the wonderful little free samples of food that the ladies in the shower caps dispense, in and around the refrigeration cases and at the ends of some aisles. Since Gastric Bypass Surgery reduced the length 'n' breadth of my stomach, I can just about make a meal out of free samples and, of course, the price is ideal.
Except, of course, that Costco employs the same principle via which one suckers one's self in Las Vegas casinos. They offer you something free but you have to go all the way to the rear of the building to collect it. In Vegas, they know that on your way to and/or from the back, you'll be tempted to drop a few bucks in a slot machine or at a Blackjack table. At Costco, you'll probably pick up a case or two of Chips Ahoy or Kikkoman Soy Sauce — a particularly tasty combination, I hear. I ended up selecting a lot of stuff I didn't go in for...and to top off my own foolishness, I decided against purchasing that piece of electronic equipment I'd come in for. Feeling just as sheepish as you'd imagine, I returned it to the shelf and just bought all the stuff I didn't stop in for.
Some of what I hauled home were food items. I bought a fresh, just-cooked rotisserie chicken and it was very good. I bought a tub of their rotisserie chicken noodle soup (made, I suppose, from the chickens that are cooked at the store but not purchased within X hours) and it was not very good. But the real find was packaged corned beef from the Carnegie Deli.
I love the Carnegie in New York. I also like the Stage, which is a block away, and a place called the Ben Ash, which is across the street. I don't know which of them has the best corned beef but any of 'em are better than any corned beef you can buy in a market out here. I also like the corned beef at Canter's and several delis in my native Los Angeles but when you buy it at the counter and take it home, it doesn't keep for long. I wind up eating it when I feel like having something else.
The local Costcos now sell Carnegie Corned Beef...or you can buy Pastrami if that's your preference. What you get is 1.5 pounds of meat for about ten bucks, which ain't a bad price at all. It comes divided up into two plastic containers so you can eat three-fourths of a pound now and three-fourths of a pound next week. (The package I bought on 2/29 was dated as good 'til 3/25.) Eat it cold or stick it in the microwave for 60 seconds and eat it hot. I just did this and it's pretty good...a little tougher than what you get at a real deli but pretty darned good for the convenience of having it at home to feast upon when the mood strikes.
Meanwhile, in other food news: Last year on this site, I made a ridiculous pest of myself asking you all to lobby the Souplantation chain (aka in some states, Sweet Tomatoes) to make their creamy tomato soup a regular selection. Many of you wrote that you went in, tried it, agreed with me it was dee-lish and so informed the Souplantation Customer Relations people. Some of you didn't try it but you acted on faith and phoned in for my cause. Thank you all...but I'm sad to report my favorite soup is still not a constant at the chain. It's probably another one of those Antonin Scalia decisions, subverting the will of the masses.
On the other hand, I'm happy to report that the creamy tomato soup is back for the month of March. In fact, it starts today so I'm going to pretend they brought it back in honor of my birthday...and gee, that was thoughtful of them, don't you think? I'm going to go often this month and at some point, I'll get a big "to go" container, bring it back here and enjoy it with my Carnegie corned beef. This will probably be my favorite meal for all of March, not counting the dim sum at Costco if I go there again or Carolyn's chicken pot roast if she makes it.
I don't know if I've mentioned it — probably have — but I'm very much against the idea of granting retroactive immunity to the telecommunications companies that may have violated laws in cooperating with the Bush surveillance programs. The only argument I've seen for granting that immunity is along the lines of "If we don't grant them immunity, they won't participate in the program and we need that," which is kind of an admission that what they've been doing is probably illegal. So if we need what they're doing and it was illegal, someone ought to be candid enough to just admit that and we can move on from there. Not that there's much chance of that happening.
Over on his weblog, Kevin Drum offers the interesting speculation — which sure sounds logical — that the reason the telecommunications companies aren't lobbying hard for this protection is that they've already been indemnified by the government; that our beloved treasury is on the hook to pay any fines which are levied against them. That makes sense considering that it's George W. Bush who's getting hysterical about retroactive immunity, not Ma Bell. Apparently, immunity for government officials who ordered the (probably illegal) surveillance is also being snuck in, and that obviously matters a lot to the Bush administration.
Perhaps the thing that depressed me most about the Supreme Court decision in Bush vs. Gore (and its subsequent defense) was that it kind of killed off the idea that that august deliberative body stood above the partisan fray; that the bulk of nine justices put principle over seeing their "team" prevail. Even if you think they came to the proper conclusion, the way they did it — saying it was non-precedential, stopping the vote count as rapidly as possible, plus some of the statements made in justifying it — really made it look like five out of nine justices had worked backwards from the idea that they wanted Bush to win, and had figured out how to support that conclusion.
Before that, you always had the idea — and perhaps it wasn't true even then but it wasn't as hollow as it is now — that the Supreme Court would keep the Executive Branch in check. Even justices who were hailed as right-wingers and who had been appointed by Richard Nixon ruled against Nixon in his big "I'm above the law" case before them. Does anyone think Bush would lose any major case now with the Scalia mob on the bench? That it isn't his ace-in-the-hole on this whole matter of illegal surveillance?
And believe me...I'd be just as horrified at a High Court that wouldn't slap down a Democratic president who decided he had absolute power. I don't trust any politician enough to give them that latitude and I never will.
Got a goodie for you today, folks. One of my favorite comedic performers is a gentleman named Eddie Lawrence. Eddie has had an amazing and varied career. He starred on Broadway (He was in the original Bells Are Ringing). He wrote for Broadway. He's been an actor (He was in The Night They Raided Minsky's, to name one of many credits). He's an acclaimed painter. He did tons of cartoon voices and commercials. And all that pales in comparison to a series of oft-plagiarized comedy records he made in the fifties, many of which featured him as The Old Philosopher.
I first became aware of him when I was a tot watching Soupy Sales. Soupy used to have the lion puppet Pookie mime to Eddie Lawrence records and they were hilarious. I ran out, bought all I could and enjoyed the heck outta them. Years later, I had the pleasure of working briefly with Mr. Lawrence and it was so wonderful to meet him.
Here's a clip of him performing at some sort of Dr. Demento concert in, I'm guessing, the late eighties or early nineties. You may know the bit but you may not know the name of the guy who originated and performed it. It's Eddie Lawrence and here he is...
Friday afternoon, I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles office to get my drivers license renewed. It's customary to make cracks about long, long lines at the D.M.V. and employees who act like Lee Majors running in slow-motion...but I was in and out in twenty minutes and it would have been ten, had it not been for an incident I'll describe in a moment.
Renewal by mail was possible but I wanted to get a new photo taken. I've lost more than 100 pounds since the last one was snapped (99+ pounds of flesh, one pound of hair) and the pic doesn't look much like me these days. I've had two hassles with T.S.A. employees at airports and one with the only sales clerk who actually looks at the photo when you pay with credit card and the store policy is to check the customer's i.d. It's amazing how many "look" and don't notice that the picture doesn't particularly resemble the patron.
I arrive at 12:15 for a 12:20 appointment and am given a form to fill out and return to the window. When I return it, there's a man ahead of me having an emotional breakdown. He's around 65 (I'm guessing) and he works for a company not unlike Super Shuttle that drives folks to the airport...and even with eye glasses as thick as the Berlin Wall, he has just failed the vision test and been told his license will not be renewed. Amidst angry tears and yelling, he is arguing with a D.M.V. employee who is just trying to enforce the rules and hasn't the authority to do anything else.
As near as I can tell, the argument goes roughly like this: "I cannot drive without a license. If I do not drive, I do not have a job. If I do not have a job, my family cannot pay rent or purchase groceries. Therefore, you must give me a license."
The D.M.V. staffer explains very politely that the eye exam is not something that can just be ignored. It's given for a reason. He's sorry but the applicant had several cracks at it — however many are permitted — and he failed. A supervisor of some sort comes over and the conversation is moved to one side (so I can go about my business) and it is repeated. As I'm waiting for my new photo to be snapped, I can hear the supervisor saying, "The fact that you need the job doesn't change the fact that you failed the test."
All the people who are sitting around and waiting have heard the exchange. They feel sorry for the man whose livelihood has gone away with his vision. They also feel sorry for the D.M.V. employee who was screamed at as if he'd decided to starve the man's family.
Behind me in line, waiting for her picture to be taken, is a lady who I'd guess is in her eighties. "It's so sad," she says. "That poor man." The man waiting behind her says, "Why don't they just give him a license?" To which the woman replies, "Would you want to ride with a driver who can't see well enough to pass the eye test here? That's scary."
I lean over and say, "The scary thing is that he was driving people to and from the airport yesterday, maybe even this morning."
"That's not even the scary thing," the man says. "The scary thing is that he's going to drive home from here. When I'm going through the parking lot, he'll probably be going through the parking lot." Then he thinks for a second and adds, "You know, my company has jobs where you don't have to drive and good vision isn't essential." He pulls out a business card, tells the lady to save his place in line, and goes over and gives one to the man who has just lost his license.
That's all there is to this story. My picture is then taken so I leave and I can't tell you what, if anything, happened as a result. But I'd like to think it will all lead to a happy ending.
The video quality on this one isn't very good but the material is too good to let that stop us. What we have here are three (3) wonderful animated commercials for Bosco chocolate syrup. Pay special attention to the rabbit with the highest voice. That voice was done by the brilliant Daws Butler, and I believe Daws was involved with the writing of these commercials. In any case, he had these on his personal "demo" reel because he was so proud of them. (The rabbit with the lowest voice sounds a lot like Thurl Ravenscroft but I don't think it's him. And I know who the third rabbit is but I can't dredge up the name at the moment.)
Here's the video. Make sure you watch all three spots.
April 1, 2008
