Here's a new article by Fred Kaplan. It's entitled "Trump's Canada Trade Fiasco Shows the Dark Side of 'America First" and basically, it says…

Trump critics have long warned that "America First" means America Alone, but now the proof is flashing neon-bright before our eyes. To a degree that even critics could not have foreseen a year ago, the United States struts and frets on the world stage alone. There are very few, if any, leaders in the world who respect or admire America in the Age of Donald Trump — who would serve U.S. interests to the point of compromising their own, whether out of loyalty to our alliance, gratitude for our security umbrella, or fear of our sheer power.

It comes from the same place as "Engrave my name on the Kennedy Center or I'll tear it down!"

Since there's no tariff (yet!) on embedding Canadian video clips, I thought I'd link to this one from a show hosted by Juliette Cavazzi, a big star up there once up a time. She was usually known just as "Juliette" and this clip isn't really about her. It's about a singing/dancing team called The Good Company that appeared with her. You may be able to find better singers and dancers but what you won't find is any who look happier to be doing what they're doing.

This, as if you couldn't tell from the clothes, is from a 1968 variety show. In the last twelve months, I've lost sixty pounds and as soon as i drop ten more, I'm getting me one of them green suits like the men are wearing…

Sorry to say, I have no first-hand stories about Dolly Parton. I never met the lady though I came kinda close. In 1980, Sid and Marty Krofft had a commitment from NBC to produce a pilot for a new variety show. No one knew who would star in this variety show and different stars were being discussed and in some cases, approached. The only person who had been hired was me to the Head Writer of the pilot, whatever it turned out to be.

There were endless meetings to decide who the star(s) might be and Ms. Parton was briefly discussed — and by "brief," I mean about ten minutes. Everyone who had a say in the matter thought it was a great idea. Her agents or managers were called and they apparently didn't even have to check with her. Back came the answer that Dolly Parton had absolutely zero interest in top-lining a weekly variety series. If she'd said yes, that commitment would not have gone on to yield a variety show starring two ladies from Japan who didn't speak English.

Seven years later, Dolly had a change of heart and agreed to a weekly variety series on ABC. My agent received what he called a "soft offer" for me to work on it. They would negotiate a fee for my services and then I'd be flown to Nashville — or wherever Dolly was at the moment — to meet her and see if we got along. If we didn't, no job. At the time, I had other things I preferred doing and I stalled accepting or declining the soft offer. I didn't want to work on the show but I considered letting them fly me to Nashville (or wherever) just to meet the lady. And while I was deciding, they hired someone else and the soft offer was withdrawn.

But that's a story about me, not about Dolly Parton. Like I said, I don't have a story about Dolly Parton — just good thoughts about her and her music and the fact that she had one of the most delightful presences I've ever seen on TV. I guess I wanted to go meet her just to see how authetic it was. I'll bet it was pretty darned authentic.

From some long-ago production of Brigadoon, Kelli O'Hara and Patrick Wilson sing one of my favorite tunes from the Lerner & Loewe catalog. Gee, I wish I could sing like Patrick Wilson…

Just about everything Donald Trump says about Canada — especially that they're all dying to become our 51st state — is untrue.  I am shocked, I tell you.  Shocked.

This is going to ramble and veer off in a number of obtuse distractions…and I have no idea how many parts it will run. But stick with me because there's a fair-to-middlin' chance that by the time I get to the end of it, it'll make a fair amount of sense. To me, at least.  I don't know about you.

Now then: When I was a young lad, I was interested in an awful lot of things — comic books, cartoons, funny people like Laurel and Hardy, certain books…it's a long list. I was really interested for a while in magic, particularly the aspect of it where you do something for your friends and they can't imagine how in the world you did that. It gave me a bogus sense of superiority that I suspect everyone who ever takes up magic craves to some extent.

I also got some of that shallow sense of superiority from two other skills I developed which were probably the same skill, though for a long time I didn't think of them that way. One was the ability to draw cartoon characters well enough to impress the other kids at school.

I was a bit of an outsider in elementary school due to being skipped ahead in grades.  Just when I was getting to know the others in my class, I'd be skipped into a new class where I'd be saddled with being younger, unfamiliar with things I would have learned in the grade I'd skipped and — worst of all — being thought of as "Class Brain."  That's a curse I would never wish on anyone.

Being able to draw Popeye on their book covers — or Charlie Brown or Snoopy or almost any Hanna-Barbera character of the day — that helped me fit in.  So did being able to do magic tricks.  So did the third of these three status-enhancing skills, I had magic, I had drawing and I had forgery.

This was not a skill I set out to learn or one I practiced.  It was just something I could do.  Someone could sign their name on a piece of paper and I could then quickly replicate that signature so closely that they'd say, "If I hadn't seen you do that, I would swear that I'd written that." I never used this unasked-for skill for profit or skullduggery…never forged a note from my parents or a check or anything nefarious. I just used it to show off the same way I did card tricks or drew Yogi Bear.

In this world, it helps to have a skill — something you can do competently that not everyone else can do. If it's one that you can monetize, so much the better.  You may be able to convert it into a career that pays your bills.  And now I'm going to write about my father a bit.

My father was one of the dearest, nicest and most honest men you could ever want to meet. He got along with everyone and everyone liked him. But he had a problem, career-wise: He never had some skill of that kind. Or if he did, he never figured out what it was.

As I've mentioned here many times, he hated his job, which was working for the Internal Revenue Service. It paid him a decent living wage but gave him an ulcer, vast amounts of stomach distress and a longtime feeling of entrapment. It also gave him a fierce determination that his son would not end up similarly entrapped.

He was born in 1910. That meant he was entering the job market around the time the Great Depression of 1929 hit — and he went into it with the handicap of not being particularly good at anything. He was smart and a fast learner and a hard worker…but if there was something he could do that was special, he never found it. In his dreams, he wanted to be an opera singer but he didn't have the voice for it. (That's apparently a genetic thing. I'm an absolutely terrible singer.)

At times, he wanted to be a baseball player but he didn't have the physicality for it. (Also, apparently, one of those things you can pass on to your offspring.)

And at times, he wanted to be a writer. When I decided at an early age that that's what I wanted to be, he didn't try very hard to talk me out of it. In hindsight, I think he was conflicted. He loved the idea of his son succeeding at something he'd wanted to be but worried that I might suffer the way he'd suffered. He'd pursued that goal but not for very long. Every rejection left him devastated, so much so that he gave it up. You can't succeed as a professional writer if you can't cope with a little or even a lot of "Thank you but the material you submitted does not fit our present needs."

He told me stories of his rejections…told them to me many times and each time, he visibly trembled and went a bit pale. But he felt he had to warn me what I might be letting myself in for. I vividly recall those well-meant lectures and I also remember the first time I did have an out-and-out rejection of something I'd submitted. My reaction was kind of like "Hey, this doesn't feel so bad." And as things proceeded, the turndowns grew easier to take and less frequent.

What I never did was give up and not because I bought into that very bad advice that people give: "Never let go of your dream. Stick with it and you're certain to succeed." I never believed that and the more I learned about the occupation I was shooting for, the more ridiculous it seemed to me. Being persistent and having the necessary talent to do something are not the same thing and being proficient in both is no guarantee of success. I've now supported myself as a professional writer for 57 years. A lot of that has simply been a matter of being in the right place and/or meeting the right people at the right time.

And I never for a second thought of switching to a career that would employ one of my three "show off for the other kids" skills. I never thought of becoming a professional magician. I never thought of a legal way to profit off being a good forger. And I never thought of becoming a professional artist or cartoonist.

I did think of maybe being a writer who also drew things as an adjunct to writing.  And I did do a little of that…for a while. I finally gave up drawing altogether and I'm writing this multi-part essay to explain why to anyone who cares to know why — and that includes myself. Like I said, I don't know how many parts this will take but if you're interested, follow me and maybe by the end, we'll both understand it.

There was a time when I used to visit New York at least once a year, sometimes twice.  I went there to see Broadway shows but also to visit friends who are now no longer alive and publishers who are now no longer in that city.  And I would usually have at least one meal at the Carnegie Deli on Seventh Avenue or the Stage Deli, also on Seventh, just down the street from the Carnegie.  If both delis had long lines outside waiting to get in, I would sometimes go to a deli called the Ben Ash across the street from the Carnegie.  When I had lunch with Joe Simon, we'd dine at the Ben Ash, which he preferred.

Me, I found the three delis pretty much interchangeable, at least insofar as the menu items I was likely to order was concerned.  The main difference was that when you dined at the Carnegie, you ran the risk of being seated next to Jackie Mason.  He seemed to always there and always spewing political garbage.

All three of those delis closed some time ago but now it's been announced that the Carnegie is coming back — in the space formerly occupied by the Stage.  Reportedly, a sign has already gone up on the place.  Next time I'm back there, I'll try to dine there since there's little chance of Jackie Mason coming back.

It feels like there's been a trend against delicatessens in recent times.  In Los Angeles, several that I once frequented have gone away — Junior's, Label's Table, Greenblatt's and the several outlets of Jerry's.  All gone and I think I know one reason: It was impossible in most of them on both coasts to get a deli sandwich you could consume in one sitting.  By "deli," I mean the featured meats — pastrami, corned beef, brisket, etc.  The sandwiches were all huge, just loaded with beef and priced accordingly.

When I went to those places in New York, I could barely finish half a sandwich and that gave me the dilemma of what to do with the other half.  I'd paid for it so I didn't want to throw it away…but I also wasn't going from there back to my hotel room.  And even if I did and my room had a refrigerator, the sandwich was never too wonderful after a few hours in the fridge.  So I'd wind up having it wrapped and I'd carry it around awkwardly the rest of the day until I decided I had to throw it out.

A good lunch should not become a problem.  I really think that's a big reason a lot of delicatessens have closed.  They began making bigger and more expensive sandwiches you could only eat part of.  Katz's — now the busiest deli in Manhattan — can get away with it because it's become such a touristy thing to do.  But I'll bet a lot of those monstrous pastrami sandwiches wind up only partially eaten.  If the new Carnegie is putting three-quarters of a pound of meat in a sandwich and charging $32.00 for it, I don't think they'll be back for long.

I'm working on a couple of those unreasonably long posts I post here from time to time. That's why you haven't heard much from me here this weekend.

And this is kind of funny. Somewhere out in the part of Southern California known as Porter Ranch, there's a person who went shopping yesterday at the Whole Foods there.   This person, I suspect, has a phone number that's one digit off mine. They purchased a ton of food and when they paid and checked out, they wanted to have their receipt sent to their Amazon account, which you can do by typing in your phone number. Only they didn't type in their phone number. They accidentally (I assume) typed in mine.

So this morning when I went to look at the status of an Amazon order which I'd placed, there was this long list of purchases at the Porter Ranch Whole Foods. It included "Icelandic Provisions Caramel Banana Extra Creamy Skyr Yogurt, 4.4 Ounce" and "Gotham Greens, Green Goddess Salad Kit, 6.5 Ounce" and "Whole Foods Market Organic Ponzu Ginger Salad Kit, 7.2 Ounce" and other things I would never buy. It was a pretty long list and it was all charged to an American Express card and since the receipt gave the last four digits of the Amex card number, I could see it was not my Amex card.

But I didn't know what had happened at first; not until I called Whole Foods Customer Service and a nice lady immediately picked up and explained what must have happened.  She assured me that my Amex card was not and would not be charged and that my information had in no way been compromised. It was kinda nice to reach an actual human being promptly and not have to wait twelve minutes for an A.I. chatbot that's programmed to solve any problem except mine. Either that or I get someone in a far away land who doesn't speak English too well and doesn't know how to do anything except to say, "Do you mind if I put you on hold while I check?" And then I never hear from them again.

The woman at Whole Foods knew exactly what must have happened, explained it efficiently and politely and cleared up the confusion. If everything at Whole Foods wasn't twice the price it should be, her efficiency would make me want to shop there.

Here's the latest from our man in London, Jonathan Pie. This guy is magnificent…

Over three seasons — 1959, 1960 and 1961 — the then-new cartoon studio known as Hanna-Barbera produced 45 half-hours of what I think was their best series — The Quick Draw McGraw Show. If you feel that honor should go to The Jetsons, Top Cat, The Huckleberry Hound Show, the first few seasons of The Flintstones or a few others, I wouldn't waste time arguing but I think The Quick Draw McGraw Show was as good as it got at H-B and one of the best cartoon shows ever made for television.

You might not share that opinion because its episodes haven't been as available in recent years as some other shows. Certain legal matters relating to the musical underscores in those cartoons have prevented a home video release and a few other ways in which you might have seen them. But those problems have been overcome and a complete Blu-ray collection is coming soon. How soon? Amazon is saying September 29 and here's a link if you wanna pre-order.

What made the show so good? Well, all or almost all of the segments on it were written by Michael Maltese, one of the best writers of cartoons ever. You also had voice work by the great Daws Butler who played almost all the lead characters. And the H-B studio was filled with talented artists and the studio hadn't yet started overtaxing itself and spreading all that talent too thin. In due time, they'd be overtaxed.

I especially liked the segments of Augie Doggie and Doggie Daddy with Daws playing Augie and Doug Young doing his great impression of Jimmy Durante as Augie's Dear Old Dad. Consistently funny stuff. If you're not familiar with the series, prepare for a delightful discovery.

The American Cinematheque is a group that screens great movies of the past in several theaters in Los Angeles. Recently, they persuaded Mel Brooks to make up a list of his twenty favorite films and they'll be showing them on the dates indicated. Here is Mel's list…

Sept. 3 — City Lights (1931), Aero Theatre
Sept. 4 — When Harry Met Sally… (1989), Aero Theatre
Sept. 5 — I Vitelloni (1953), Aero Theatre
Sept. 6 — The Grapes of Wrath (1940), Aero Theatre
Sept. 9 — The Elephant Man (1980), Aero Theatre
Sept. 19 — This Is Spinal Tap (1984), Los Feliz 3
Sept. 20 — Shane (1953), Los Feliz 3
Sept. 23 — The Miracle Worker (1962), Los Feliz 3
Oct. 6 — Down and Out in Beverly Hills (1986), Los Feliz 3
Oct. 10 — Top Hat (1935), Aero Theatre
Oct. 11 — Dances With Wolves (1990), Egyptian Theatre
Oct. 16 — Jojo Rabbit (2019), Los Feliz 3
Oct. 17 — Double Indemnity (1944), Egyptian Theatre
Oct. 18 — Schindler's List (1993), Egyptian Theatre
Oct. 20 — A Night at the Opera (1935), Los Feliz 3
Oct. 22 — Dolemite Is My Name (2019), Los Feliz 3
Oct. 24 — Broadway Melody of 1940 (1940), Los Feliz 3
Oct. 25 — Ed Wood (1994), Egyptian Theatre
Oct. 31 — Psycho (1960), Egyptian Theatre
Nov. 12 — The Twelve Chairs (1970), Egyptian Theatre

A friend of mine who heard they were doing this said to me, "Watch…they'll mostly be Mel Brooks movies interspersed with a few like Citizen Kane and Gone With the Wind so Mel could say, "Look! My movies are in the same league as Citizen Kane and Gone With the Wind!" As you've just seen, Mel did not do this. He only put one of his films on the list…the one most of his admirers rarely mention. There are two Rob Reiner movies on there…and no Citizen Kane or Gone With the Wind.

It's not a bad list but the only one I might go see is A Night at the Opera. I, of course, own a copy of the film. In fact, I think I may own it on Beta, VHS, Laserdisc, one or more DVD releases and Blu-ray. But my lovely friend Amber has never seen a Marx Brothers movie and I didn't want to show her one until we could see it in a theater with an audience. It'll be a lot funnier at the Aero than it would be in my den with just the two of us watching it there. Same deal with It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. You've gotta see it, at least for your first time, with a big, demonstrative audience.

UPDATE, A BIT LATER: Shelly Goldstein reminds me that The Elephant Man was produced by Mel and that it and The Miracle Worker featured Mrs. Mel Brooks, aka Anne Bancroft.  Of course.

When my age was but a single digit, there were probably years when this commercial was the thing I saw most on TV. My favorite shows were on once a week. One or two of them were on every day, Monday through Friday. This commercial was sometimes on ten or more times a day. It was especially annoying because it was for a candy I hated.

If and when I get the power Donald Trump believes the President of the United States has — to do whatever he wants, no matter what experts, laws, judges and legislative bodies say — I am of course going to establish a death penalty for the making of cole slaw. You all know that. What I don't think I've mentioned here is that licorice would be close behind.

Those of you who, God knows why, love those food items needn't worry or stock up. There's probably less than a 15% chance I will ever attain that power and be able to ban abominations like cole slaw and licorice in order to make this world a more decent place to live. And I will ban this commercial, though it won't do much good. I've had it rattling around in my head since I was about seven…

I've been sleeping weird hours lately. Last night, it was 4 AM and the night before, it was 9 PM. 'Tis the curse of being a freelance writer. You work when you feel like writing and/or when you need to write to get it done when they need it, no matter who "they" are. Tonight, it'll be close to normal.

But I wanted to call your attention to this article by Michael Parnell, a pastor at Temple Baptist Church in Raleigh, N.C. He attended a panel I emceed at Comic-Con and has a nice observation about it.

I also want to thank those of you who've donated to our little annual drive to keep this blog online and absolutely free. I'll stop with the banners when we reach the amount it's cost me to operate newsfromme for the last twelve months. We still have a little way to go. Good night.

The Seth Meyers program is on a long summer hiatus. If you miss him, you might enjoy this 48 minute video podcast — Seth and writer-producer Sal Gentile talking about the stories they'd be covering if they weren't on vacation. I liked this a lot…

Here's an example of Juan Tamariz doing what he did better than just about anybody…and make sure you watch it to the end.  The trick with the four cards is one he did when I saw him perform.  He not only fooled me, he fooled some pretty experienced magicians who were in the group watching him…