The California State Legislature has a proposal before it to allow doctor-assisted life-ending and I'm skeptical it will pass. Then again, I was skeptical that my lifetime I'd see a black president, legal gay marriage or the slightest interest in Ant-Man.
I have long been for this and after going through the last years of my mother's life — and seeing so many people like her suffering with no chance of getting better — I am even more for it. My friend Kevin Drum says it's being blocked largely by pressure from the Catholic church and he goes on to say…
If they believe that suicide is a sin, that's fine. They should forbid suicide among Catholics. But I'm not Catholic, and it's no sin for me. So go mind your own business, folks, and represent the will of all Californians, who overwhelmingly support bringing our state into the 21st century.
This is going to be another one of those arguments where people insist on "religious freedom," defining it as their right to not have to see the world not run in accordance with their religion. And we'll probably see someone somewhere point to this proposal and say, "See? They want to set up those Death Panels we warned you about!"
I think Barack Obama has been a good president but there are many things about this administration that bother me, mostly having to do with espionage and drone strikes. Matt Taibbi runs through some of them as he reviews the surprising number of recent accomplishments by a man who'd been written off as a lame duck.
The Comics Journal website has posted an interesting conversation between cartoonists Stan Sakai and Chris Schweizer that's well worth your attention. And I can't resist expanding on the following, which was said by Stan…
When I was doing freelance work I met Sergio Aragonés, and he invited me to a C.A.P.S. meeting, The Comic Arts Professional Society. It was an organization of print cartoonists started by Sergio, Mark Evanier, and Don Rico. There are so many comic-book artists in the Los Angeles area, but we never socialized. I joined the second year. I was told that the first meeting was in a church in Hollywood, and it was booked right after the Gay Christians Organization or something like that.
The first two C.A.P.S. meetings were held in June of 1977 at the West Hollywood Presbyterian Church up on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood, near where Don Rico and his wife Michele were then living. They went there occasionally and knew the minister, who was a flamboyant man named Dr. Ross Greek. On their suggestion, I went up to see him and check out the meeting room he had there.
Dr. Greek, I later learned, was a true mover/shaker of the area. He'd spent much of his life running this and other churches, usually staying only slightly ahead of financial ruin. He had an admirable track record for taking in kids (runaways, especially) who were homeless and/or on drugs and helping them clean up, straighten out and just plain survive. He was also a founder of something called the Lazarus Project, which has been described as "a ministry of reconciliation between the church and the lesbian, gay, and bisexual community." He passed away in 1995 and is still revered in that community.
He was an energetic, happy man who was somehow doing about eleven things at once that day. One of them was showing me the hall they had there…a facility, he said, that was open to any sort of group that looked like it might do anybody any good, no donation required. I decided it would be a decent place for this group we were trying to start and gave him $50 — which from his reaction was a lot more than anyone else had donated lately. When, I asked him, might the room be available?
He led me over to a wall calendar, studied it and said, "Well, we could squeeze you in on Thursday nights between the Lesbian Softball Team and the Alcoholic Gays." I said that would be fine and he took a pen and wrote us in…so the calendar then said…
Lesbian Softball Team Comic Book Artists
Alcoholic Gays
…and I wondered if anyone was going to look at that calendar and say, "You're letting comic book artists meet here?"
Penn & Teller: Fool Us starts its second season tomorrow evening on the CW Network. If you've never seen this series, a quick rundown…
The idea is to fool Penn and Teller. Magicians come out and try to perform some trick that neither Mr. Penn nor Mr. Teller can figure out. This is not easy, especially the part about fooling Mr. Teller, as he is quite the expert on how illusions are performed. If the duo can't figure out how it was done, the magician who fooled them wins bragging rights and I'm not sure what else. If not…well, better luck next time.
The show debuted in 2011 on ITV in Great Britain, hosted by my buddy, British TV superstar Jonathan Ross. It did well but not well enough that anyone wanted to make more episodes. It looked for a long time like there would be no more. Then last year, the CW Network picked up those 2011 episodes and aired them to great response. I have a little bragging right of my own there because the person who told the CW Network execs about the series was me.
The shows did well enough that they ordered more so 13 additional episodes have been taped. Unlike the first series for which Penn and Teller had to commute to England, these were shot at the Rio Hotel in Las Vegas where they are in permanent residence. They're not there now but that's because they're about to open a limited run on Broadway.
Anyway, like I said, Penn & Teller: Fool Us debuts on the CW tomorrow night. One of the magicians attempting to fool you-know-who will be another friend of mine, Jon Armstrong. Jon is my occasional magic tutor and one of the best guys in his field. Tune in and see if he fools them. I'll bet he'll fool you.
Here's a video about how to do Comic-Con correctly. Some of it won't apply to you — I've somehow gotten through 47 of these without ever feeling the need to don a backpack — but a lot of it will. It is important to pace yourself and to prep for the event. The most important thing I think they omit is to prepare a list in advance of panels you want to see and areas of the exhibit hall you wish to visit.
Note what they say about how people sometimes attend the panel before the one they want to see just to get a good seat. I think it was last year at Quick Draw! where on a whim, I asked the audience how many of them just sat through the previous panel so they could make sure they got in for Quick Draw! More than half the hands in the room went up. An awful lot of people attend Quick Draw! and then my Saturday Cartoon Voices panel as a double feature.
There's very little turnover in the room between them. This is because I've learned the secret of how to draw big crowds to your panels at Comic-Con: Pack them with people who are more talented than you are. Here's the video…
Here is the third part of that list of songs that Stephen Sondheim wishes he'd written.
What one notes is that for the most part, the songs he covets are ones that work in the precise context of the shows. These are not a lot of songs that someone could just sing in a cabaret act without a bit of explanation setting up the storylines.
The quality of artwork is going way down. Where? On the fake drawings that people try to sell on eBay these days. Some of the forgers used to show real talent as they traced a drawing by Al Williamson or Charles Schulz or Bill Watterson, signed the guy's name to it and offered it for sale as real. There are still a few good ones that could almost fool an expert but some of these…geez. Really awful.
Amazingly, some of the worst ones come from Certificates of Authenticity. As I understand it, the premise behind the Certificate of Authenticity is that while a forger might possibly be able to forge a Frank Frazetta drawing, he couldn't possibly forge a Certificate of Authenticity. Some frauds take the easy way out and just give you a Certificate of Authenticity they make up that doesn't have any sort of expert or recognized authority behind it.
And amazingly, sometimes organizations that have some credibility have someone on their staff who doesn't know what a real Steve Ditko drawing looks like. There are bogus drawings with real Certificates of Authenticity attached. Just the other day on eBay, someone paid several hundred dollars for a properly-certified fake that shouldn't have fooled Quincy Magoo, let alone a self-proclaimed expert.
I do not get involved in certifying drawings or signatures. There's nothing in it for me except annoyance because some people get really, really angry when you tell them that their Guaranteed Authentic Jack Kirby Drawing for which they paid megabucks is not by Jack Kirby…or at least, not by that Jack Kirby. More than once, I've been accused of being in cahoots with some guy I never heard of to work some sort of scam that makes no sense at all. So I won't give you my opinion of a given drawing but I will warn you: There are fakes aplenty out there. Be real wary.
You should stick with drawings and autographs like the one above in a Peanuts book which is current being offered on eBay. In fact, this one is probably very collectible. There aren't many autographs out there which Charles Schulz did in someone else's handwriting. And what makes it even more valuable is that he somehow managed to misspell his own name.
Recently, the San Diego Union-Tribune polled its readers to find out which of two local institutions was more important to the city — the Chargers or Comic-Con International.
As of the publication of this article, 3,327 votes has been tallied and almost 60 percent of voters (1,937) said Comic-Con was more important while only 1,390 went for the Chargers. That's not a scientific poll but I'll betcha the Chargers move out of San Diego before Comic-Con does.
Now on the other hand, if the Chargers had women walking around dressed as Princess Leia and Zatanna…
This is real short but it's a good way to conclude a safe and sane Fourth…even if it does have candy corn in it. Thanks to Brian Saner Lamken for suggesting it for this site…
People are always quoting the Founding Fathers — sometimes, not accurately — to support their political positions. See if you can tell the true quotes from the fake ones by taking this quiz.
Stephen Sondheim has occasionally listed songs that other people wrote that he wishes had been written by Stephen Sondheim. One of his followers is compiling a list of them with examples. Here's Volume 1 and then after you check that out, here's Volume 2. Some of us have a simpler list: Just everything Sondheim did write.
My great friend Frank Buxton was given a surprise birthday party last night…and I'll bet it was a surprise since his birthday is in February. But he turned 85 at the last one and I don't know why they decided to do this in July. I only wish I'd been able to fly up to Seattle for it and yell "Surprise" along with the rest of his pals. Were it not for a healing knee and the need to finish work before Comic-Con, I might have done so.
Our mutual friend Frank Ferrante did, though. The photo isn't altogether clear so let me explain: They wheeled out a big prop cake and instead of a girl popping out, out came Ferrante dressed as Groucho Marx! Wish I could have been there just for that moment. The honoree sure looks like he was delighted.
I told you all about Buxton in this post. He's an amazingly talented and dear man. I have been fortunate to become friends with a number of people whose work I admired when I was a lad. Buxton is one of them.
Sorry I couldn't get away to be there, Frank, but I'll try to be present when you turn 90 and/or maybe 95. Given what great shape you're in, I figure three-digit ages are certain too, just as long as you don't take up something foolish like bunjee-jumping or working on sitcoms again.
A few years ago, I was at a party and Glen Campbell got up to perform. It was a total surprise to most of us that he was present and I gather it surprised the hosts that he offered to do something. I think but am not certain that it even surprised him a bit; that he suddenly decided to do it when he noticed that someone else there had a guitar that he could borrow. A little "concert" was quickly arranged and I recall that the microphone set-up wasn't right so his loving wife stood there for the entire time holding the mike in the proper position for him.
It was a thrill that he was doing it. I mean, Glen Campbell, for God's sakes! The man was one of the great recording artists of his day and still moves a lot of CDs. I don't know the numbers but I know they're stunning — and I'm just thinking of the ones with his name on the label. He also played anonymously on hundreds of top-selling recordings by other artists.
Glen Campbell was always a performer that people just liked. I have never heard a bad word about the guy from anyone in the business. When he was announced at the party, a ripple of excitement spread across the room…but as he stepped up, there was some discomfort at first. He said a few words which seemed rambling and disconnected, then launched into a hymn that seemed a bit inappropriate to the occasion.
He wasn't singing like the old Glen Campbell we knew and loved, either. He got better though and there was another wave of thrill when he launched into "Rhinestone Cowboy." Even with no orchestra or backup singers…just Glen and a borrowed guitar singing into a mike his wife was holding…it was pretty special.
By then, we were more forgiving and even more impressed because a bit of whispered information had spread through the party: "You know, he's got Alzheimer's." No, most of us didn't. For a guy with Alzheimer's, he was pretty darn good.
Last night, I watched a stunning documentary on TV called Glen Campbell…I'll Be Me. He and his family bravely allowed a crew to follow them around through his recent life, including a farewell tour, to show what that awful condition can do to a man and to the loved ones around him.
A lot of us do jokes about Alzheimer's and on a very real level, we should. We joke about death to remind ourselves (or maybe convince ourselves) we're not afraid of it…and if you can joke about death, you can joke about anything short of that. But you also need to keep in mind that aspects of it are not funny and that there are people who can and should be helped. Some of the most powerful moments of the documentary involve the Campbells lobbying Washington to make sure that the problem is not ignored and that sufficient funds are put towards research. I suppose that goal is why they consented to this documentary.
It meant showing the world what Glen is like these days at his worst. He comes across as a very good man with a very supportive band of friends and relatives. He remembers some things at times but not everything at all times. We follow his farewell concert tour where at least for the early part of it, powerful instincts and a TelePrompter enable him to delight audiences with an approximation of the old, pre-Alzheimer's Glen Campbell. He can't remember what year it is but he can somehow remember how to play. Eventually though, things get worse and he has to give it up.
It's very sad at some points and encouraging at others. One takeaway you may take away is that his sense of humor serves him well and his loved ones serve him even better. The man cannot even remember the name of all his wives and children but thankfully, he has the current wife and some kids around to take wonderful care of him. I found myself liking them all a lot — him for his general spirit, though there are bad moments; the others for helping him live the best possible life given his condition. And all of them deserve admiration for allowing this film.
It runs again tonight, possibly for the last time for a while on free TV, on CNN. It's 8 PM on my cable channel and I suggest you have your TiVo or DVR grab it while you can. Then watch it when you have time to give it its proper attention and you're not afraid to get a little depressed. Given the subject matter, it's awkward to say this but it's true: You won't forget it…if you're fortunate.
This is a reprint but it's also a correction. A few years ago, I switched the software on which this blog runs from Movable Type to WordPress. That was a lot more difficult than you might think and a lot of errors that you find here are a result of that conversion, including — of course — every single prediction I made that seems to have not come true.
Actually, some mistakes did result. A number of posts got corrupted and large chunks of them disappeared. I thought I'd fixed them all but this one — which originally ran here on April 21, 2009 — has had a big section missing since the switchover. I have managed to restore it in both its old location and here for the flashback…
In the summer of 1959 when I was seven, my mother took me on a trip east — to New York, Hartford and Boston in that order. The idea was to sight-see and introduce me to relatives. I guess she thought I was old enough to see just what kind of family I was a part of.
The week in New York, we stayed at the Taft Hotel on Seventh Avenue between 50th and 51st Streets and did touristy things like riding the Staten Island Ferry and visiting the Statue of Liberty. One morning, my mother announced we were going to go to Rockefeller Center, walk around for a while, then take in a matinee of the movie that was playing at Radio City Music Hall. It was The Nun's Story starring Audrey Hepburn. If you ever decide your seven-year-old deserves a good beating but wish to avoid corporal punishment, make him sit through The Nun's Story, instead. Whatever it was he did, he'll never do it again.
The TV tickets illustrating this article are not ones I got in 1959. They're just from the same period. Our thanks to the management of Old TV Tickets for supplying them.
Before we got to that, as we wandered through Rockefeller Center, a polite man approached us. He explained that he was recruiting audiences and that he could arrange for us to get a free tour of the NBC Studios, see one of our favorite game shows done live and (he emphasized the "and") take home a prize. All it would take was about two hours of our time. My mother motioned to me and said, "I thought you had to be a certain age to be in the audience for a TV show."
I guess they were desperate for warm bodies that day. He looked me over and said, "Yes, well, usually but he seems like a well-behaved lad. I can arrange for special tickets so he'll get in." My mother decided we could catch a later show of The Nun's Story and asked if we could see them do Treasure Hunt, which was then a popular NBC game show starring Jan Murray. The gent scanned his clipboard and said, "I'm not sure if there are any special tickets left for Treasure Hunt. They'd have to tell you upstairs."
He was probably lying to us. He probably knew darn well there were no tickets of any kind left for Treasure Hunt. His mission was to get us upstairs where we could be diverted into some other show that was hard-up for seat-fillers.
The next thing we knew, we were getting a quick mini-tour of NBC, conducted by a cheery tour guide who showed us almost nothing but kept encouraging us to ask questions. I did and she couldn't answer a one of them. Then we were at a high desk — these are images I remember — where another cheery person informed us that they couldn't get us into Treasure Hunt but we could see Concentration. We liked that show too…and what the heck? We were already there and it was free and that show gave out prizes to the audience, too. So we were handed tickets and directed to a line of other folks who'd been conscripted from the street.
There, we waited for what seemed like days. Minutes you spend waiting seem like days when you're seven. I was bored silly until, suddenly and without warning, Jan Murray came by. He was wearing a loud checked sport coat and I think he was out there to apologize to people who'd been waiting in another line to see Treasure Hunt and didn't get in. But then he came over and shook some hands in our line and I got to meet him.
I had met TV stars before. The lady who lived next door to us back home was on an ABC series then but this was different. She was like family and Jan Murray was a person who, insofar as I was concerned, existed only on television. He was also male and funny and charming and he made a big impression on me. I never wanted to be on TV but I do vaguely recall a little wish-dream that struck me at that moment. It had to do with people being as happy to see me as everyone was that day to see Jan Murray.
Then Mr. Murray did something amazing…even magical. Now, you have to remember that this show was done live. As he did it on stage, it was broadcast simultaneously to much of the country. There could be no delays in starting.
The stage manager came out into the hall to fetch him and to say, "Jan, three minutes," meaning, "Get your ass in there, fella. The show's about to start!" Jan nodded and continued greeting people in line and signing autographs.
Then it was "Jan, two minutes." Jan acknowledged the time and went right on signing his name on whatever scraps of paper people could come up with.
Before you knew it, the stage manager was saying — with great desperation in his voice — "Jan, please…one minute!" Jan told him not to worry, he'd be fine…and went on signing and shaking hands.
There was a black-and-white TV monitor on a stand in the hall. Suddenly, it was showing the opening of Treasure Hunt, the opening that America was watching. The announcer was about to introduce Jan Murray and Jan Murray was still in the hallway signing autographs for tourists! The stage manager was pleading but Jan, with no ruffled feathers, merely told him to relax. Then he thanked us all again for coming, turned and walked into the studio —
— and five seconds later, walked out onto live television!
I saw this. I saw this with my own young eyes. A human being in full-color who was three feet from me turned, walked through a portal and emerged on live, black-and-white television.
It still gives me a little chill to recall it. That, folks, is magic.
I had not quite gotten over it when, maybe fifteen minutes later, we were herded into the studio where Concentration was done and seated in bleacher-type seats. Ours were way over on the end and from where they stuck me, I could see absolutely nothing of the area where the host and players would be. I could see about a third of the big Concentration game board and that was about it. This was not because of my lack of height back then. It was because of all the lights and cameras and equipment in the way. Kareem Abdul Jabbar would not have been able to see anything from where they put me. I ended up watching the whole show on one of the monitors and thinking, "Gee, I could have seen exactly the same thing at home without waiting in that line, plus I could be eating cookies."
To further diminish the experience, the show's regular host Hugh Downs was off that day and someone else (I don't recall who) was filling in. Because he made his entrance after we sat down and exited before we left, I never saw him except on the monitor.
We'd been promised prizes and usually in the world of game shows, the word "prize" suggests large amounts of cash, household appliances and vacations. In this case, it suggested one tiny, travel-size tube of the white Vaseline® brand petroleum jelly. As we filed out, an NBC page handed one to each of us and even the adults were audibly disappointed. The next day, I saw them for sale in a pharmacy and they were 39 cents, which wasn't much of a prize even in 1959. I'd been expecting a new Chevrolet and a case of Turtle Wax…although come to think of it, maybe Turtle Wax is the white Vaseline® brand petroleum jelly.
All in all, it was not the most memorable part of that trip to New York. I think the most memorable part, not counting Jan Murray ascending into the airwaves before my very eyes, was after The Nun's Story when my mother, partly by way of apology, took me to the famous Automat restaurant. I liked that. That place was kind of magical too, even if no human beings walked from reality right onto a TV screen.
