Category Archives: To Be Filed

I remember where I was when I discovered Mr. Mum. In the summer of 1959, my mother took me east for a trip to — in this order — New York City, Hartford and Boston. New York was because she thought I ought to see New York and some of its landmarks. Hartford was because we had family there. Boston was the same reason as New York.

Going from New York to Hartford involved a train ride from Penn Station where we spotted a vending machine that sold little paperback books. There were two with comic strips in them and she bought me one of each. One was a collection of Jimmy Hatlo's They'll Do It Every Time, a strip I never found particularly interesting. The other was The Strange World of Mr. Mum by someone named Phillips.

I had never heard of Mr. Mum. He wasn't then in either of the big Los Angeles newspapers. But I wished he was because he was very funny…funny enough that in a drawing tablet I hauled around on the trip, I drew not the sights I was seeing but my own Mr. Mum cartoons. Later, I renamed the character so he could be mine, all mine. When I get around to really cleaning out my mother's place, I expect to find some of those drawings and I'll see if any of them are funny. Given how many I did, I'm figuring a couple must be.

Mr. Mum later turned up in the Los Angeles Times for a while. I don't think they ever had him on the page with all the other comics. He was stuck away amongst the classified ads so I had to go look for him. It was usually worth the trip. I also bought and still have other paperbacks.

As I got more interested in comic strips, I tried to research Mssrs. Mum and Phillips. Very little was written about either. Our video today told me more about them than I'd ever known before. So isn't it about time someone arranged for a big Mr. Mum reprint collection?

So let's see if I understand this…

Obama and the Republican leadership need to negotiate a financial package that will involve increased revenues — i.e., tax hikes in some manner. Republicans have grudgingly accepted that there will have to be some but as a trade-off, they want some cuts in entitlements. Obama has agreed that there will be some.

So far, this sounds like something that can get settled.

But Republicans also don't want to take the blame for cutting Medicare or Social Security or Pell Grants or anything like that. They want Obama to "own" those cuts so he has to propose them. Which he is not doing. He says he's willing to cut some entitlements but wants the Republicans to come forward with a proposal on which ones. Thus, the impasse is one of those negotiating roadblocks. Each side wants the other to go first so it can react to their proposal instead of coming up with their own.

Years ago, a TV show I was going to do collapsed under such a roadblock. It was for syndication and the syndication company said to the producer, "We want this depending on the cost. How much do you need to do an episode?" The producer responded by asking, "How much will you give us?"

The syndicator asked, "How much do you want?" The producer asked, "How much will you give us?"

The syndicator asked, "How much do you want?" The producer asked, "How much will you give us?"

The syndicator asked, "How much do you want?" The producer asked, "How much will you give us?"

On and on it went until both sides just kind of forgot about it. I don't think the president and Congress have that option.

Fred Kaplan on the Republican campaign (John McCain, mostly) against Susan Rice. Once upon a time, I admired McCain and cited him as a Republican I could vote for. By the one time his name was ever on my ballot…well, let's just say he'd changed.

We often plug Stu's Show on this site. Stu's Show is a weekly program heard right here on the World Wide Web, as no one seems to call it anymore. It's a weekly Wednesday ritual for many of you to tune in and hear your genial-but-excitable host Stu Shostak interview either (a) some great from the world of television or (b) me. I was his first guest back on December 7 — a day that will live in infamy — 2006. How long ago is that? Long enough that later this afternoon, you can listen in and hear him do Show #300!

In those first 299 shows, he's had some amazing guests and you can hear excerpts from their longer conversations today as Stu presents some of the moments of which he is the proudest. It's like one of Johnny Carson's old retrospective shows except you don't have to watch the Copper Clapper Caper or Ed Ames throwing his tomahawk. If you're never heard a Stu's Show before, this might be a great place to start. If you have, just remember: He may not include your favorite moments. He has, after all, more than 600 hours of programs to excerpt and today's show will only run (I'm guessing) around two-and-a-half hours.

There are two ways to listen to Stu's Show: Live and as a podcast. You can hear a live feed via many apps including TuneIn Radio and Shoutcast! You can also just go to his website and click on a player there. The show starts at 4 PM West Coast time which is 7 PM East Coast time and other times in other climes. It always runs at least two hours but usually goes over. Listening to it live is free.

Listening to it later costs a buck…well, actually less than a buck. Its ninety-nine cents or you can receive four different MP3s of past Stu's Shows for the price of three. Today's broadcast will be up there for purchase about a half-hour after the live webcast concludes so that could be one of your four. Go to that same website and click on "Archives."

I really like Stu's Show. I like Stu and I like his show…so I congratulate him on his 300th broadcast. And as a gift, I want to get him some new listeners. Go see if you want to be one.

My pal Chuck McCann has a joke for you.  It's the one about the guy carrying the crate…

Ramesh Ponnuru has another one those "Here's how the Republican party needs to change" articles that won't be heeded by enough people to make a difference. In fact, I wonder if these pieces just cause certain folks to "double down" and charge farther in the wrong direction.

Hey, everyone's pal Ken Plume recently spent an hour talking with one of the cleverest comedy talents around, Dave Thomas. If you're so inclined, click below to listen in…

Conan O'Brien welcomes Mel Brooks to his show tonight and then on Thursday, it's Dick Van Dyke. Must be some kind of theme week involving people who know Carl Reiner.

Last week here, I wrote a long post about a screening I attended Tuesday evening at the New Beverly Cinema here in Los Angeles. Some who were there cheered what I wrote. Some who weren't there but love the place thought I'd been way too hard on them. (Some in the latter group complained that I'd called it the "Beverly Cinema" when its actual name is the "New Beverly Cinema." I'm not sure why that matters but the name on its marquee is "Beverly Cinema." So if they can get it wrong up there, I can get it wrong here.) I also heard from the proprietor of the theater who understandably thought I'd been unfair to them. Upon reflection and after talking with my friend Josh Olson — an acclaimed screenwriter and champion of the New Beverly, I'm willing to admit I was. On some points.

For instance, I took issue with those who argue as if a 35mm print is always preferable to digital projection. I think I'm right about that but it was irrelevant to my report on that event because the print they screened of The Comic was quite decent. I should have mentioned that. I've seen some pretty terrible 35mm prints in revival houses but not the (New) Beverly Cinema.

I said that the three guests — Carl Reiner, Dick Van Dyke and Michele Lee — walked out before the film was over. I was misinformed by someone there that night. Only Mr. Van Dyke and his wife left early. Mr. Reiner and Ms. Lee apparently stayed until just before the end credits, then departed…I'm guessing to avoid being inundated again by autograph-seekers. (I've made some changes in the original post to reflect these things.)

Something I should mention here: Most celebrities do not mind and are sometimes quite flattered to sign autographs. The only exceptions I've seen lately are those who because of the Collector Show circuit make some much-desired bucks selling their John Hancocks. Those folks usually do mind doing it for free. For the rest, like the guests that evening, it's a matter of when and how many. There are moments when it's awkward, moments when they feel claustrophobic and under assault. Also, they're all aware that the guy with twenty photos he wants signed might be a devout fan but is more likely just demanding merchandise he can sell on eBay. Even if you're willing to sign for him, he's usually muscling aside real fans who want but one or seek to say hello. So suddenly, you're dealing with crowd control and twenty people trying to get your attention all at once and it can be quite overwhelming. I once saw a rather big star run literally screaming out of an event because he couldn't deal with a chaotic autograph situation…and he was charging for his signature.

Also, I said the guests at the New Beverly that night weren't even offered refreshments and I was misinformed on that…so consider that retracted with my apology. And I did not mean to suggest that a theater that wasn't built with space for a green room should make one magically appear. But when you have limitations to your facilities, someone needs to figure out a way around them. I've hosted hundreds of panels and public events. There are often problems with getting the guests there and on stage and off and making sure they can be heard, etc. You need to prepare and improvise and find workarounds…and there usually are some.

The owner of the theater informs me that contrary to what is often reported and what I said, Quentin Tarantino has no proprietary interest in the New Beverly Cinema itself. He's their landlord. When the theater faced the prospect of eviction, Mr. Tarantino purchased the real estate there so they wouldn't be evicted. Good for him, good for them.

I stand by my characterization of last Tuesday evening there but I should have noted that it was surely an exception to the norm, one the theater must regret. The New Beverly Cinema is much-loved by local film buffs and with good reason. The experience of sitting in a theater, watching a classic motion picture on a bigger-than-your-Samsung-at-home screen is a fading experience in this Blu-ray era and I should be championing any place that even attempts it. We should all be.  I'm not going to hold one unfortunate incident against them…especially because the movie they showed that night was so darned good.

This is a clip of a recent (2010) performance by a great man of the stage, George S. Irving. Mr. Irving, who is currently 90 and still treading the boards (as they say) has had a stellar career in the theater but some of you may know him best from his animation voicing. He was heard on most of the cartoon shows produced in New York in the sixties, most notably as the narrator on Underdog. In The Year Without Santa Claus, he played the Heat Miser and he has so many more credits.

In 1976, he appeared on Broadway in the musical So Long, 174th Street, which was adapted from the play Enter Laughing, which was based on Carl Reiner's book, Enter Laughing. The show closed quickly and is rarely revived.

The best reviews hailed Mr. Irving for a number called "The Butler's Song." A few years ago, he re-created that number and that's the clip I have for you today. I promise you'll laugh and want to forward this to friends.

At the end, you'll hear someone in the audience shouting "Bravo!" and I think that someone is my grand friend, Jim Brochu. Jim was one of the other writers on the Pink Lady show and was there for much of the Larry Hagman story I told here the other day. But never mind that now. Go watch the great George S. Irving. Thanks, Steve, for capturing this and sharing.

Joe Brancatelli, the man who knows everything about air travel tells you why it's a bad idea to bank your Frequent Flyer points.

Bruce Bartlett is a Republican I quote here a lot — one denounced as a R.I.N.O. by those to his right. His observations on what's gone wrong with his party strike me as valid and, to the folks who could benefit most from considering them, eminently ignorable.

Twinkies in movies…

Michael Hiltzik does a pretty thorough job of demolishing the claim that the Hostess company is (probably) going out of business due to the greediness of its union. The evidence is that a revolving door of Management botched up or neglected needed modernization and upkeep, and that the union made concession after concession. But some folks just like to blame unions for everything.

A friend of mine who once consumed enough Twinkies to keep that company in the black just baking for him alone has an add-on theory. He thinks the product had just become cost-ineffective in terms of calories and (the "and" is important) price. There's a monetary cost in buying a product and if it's pleasure food, there's a calorie cost. Even folks who are ingesting way more calories per day than they should want to "spend" those calories on that which gives them the greatest joy. He says, "There are just now too many better options."

Here is my Larry Hagman story. Get comfy. This will take a while.

The year is 1980 and I am the Head Writer on Pink Lady, an infamous variety series that was forced by high-level corporate interests on All Concerned: Its producers, its staff, some of its stars, certain folks at NBC who didn't want to put it on…and on the American public, most of whom opt not to watch. Working on it presents every conceivable problem one can have making a variety show and a biggie is that guest stars do not wish to guest. Or at least, the ones you'd want for promotional purposes don't want to guest. Even before the show airs and anyone has any idea if it's good or bad, we cannot secure a guest star whose name means anything.

A man named Fred Silverman is running NBC that week, trying frantically but nobly to enrich the disastrous ratings levels he inherited upon his arrival. Mr. Silverman did not want to put Pink Lady on the air but was so ordered by those above him. Seeking to make the best of things, he adds his clout to our endless pursuit of guest stars. This means going after performers not on NBC shows since there are so few of those viewers will tune in to see. He sets his sights on Mr. Hagman, the star of Dallas over on CBS. Hagman is very popular, though not as popular as he'd be a few months later.

Silverman himself gets on the phone to try and arrange a Hagman guest shot on Pink Lady. Failing to navigate through a sea of agents, he decides to call the star directly. You can do that when you're Vice-President of Programming — I think that was his title — at NBC. Time is of the essence so he phones him on a Sunday. The following is the story as told to me by Mr. Hagman and if it isn't true, it oughta be.

Larry Hagman lives in a big house in Malibu where he observes certain rituals which some might call superstitions. One is that he does not speak on Sundays. He whistles. He can whistle in a manner that goes up in pitch at the end. That one means "yes." He can whistle in a manner that goes down in pitch at the end. That one means "no." He has a few others but those are the key ones — The whistle for "yes" and the whistle for "no." Those who know the star know all about this and Fred is well aware. He starts the call by saying, "Larry, I know you don't talk on Sundays but please listen to this…"

He tells him about the show and how all we want is a day or two of his time. The pay will be $7500, which is more or less standard for a Big Name Star in this kind of gig — or at least it was then. Hagman will be in a sketch or two and he will not be alone in these as Sid Caesar is also a guest. At he mentions Sid Caesar, Silverman unknowingly scratches a long-held itch of Mr. Larry Hagman. Larry grew up watching Sid's old Your Show of Shows, thinks Caesar is the greatest genius ever on television, and once fantasized about being Carl Reiner or Howie Morris — a second banana supporting player to Sid Caesar.

When Fred asks, "Will you do it?," Larry Hagman gives his whistle for "yes." Fred mishears it as the whistle for "no" and offers $10,000.

Hagman gives the whistle for "yes." Fred mishears it as the whistle for "no" and offers $12,500.

Hagman gives the whistle for "yes." Fred mishears it as the whistle for "no" and offers $15,000.

Hagman gives the whistle for "yes." Fred mishears it as the whistle for "no" and says, "Well, I can't go higher than that but I'll tell you what I can do. You have your own production company, right? I'll arrange for it to get two commitments to produce TV-movies for NBC. There's good money in those and if one of them becomes a series, that could mean millions."

Hagman says, "You've got a deal!" There are some situations for which one will break one's vow of silence.

Fred's happy. We're happy. Larry is happy. Who is not happy? The producers of Dallas are not happy. They're shooting a key episode that coming week and are horrified when their star announces that on two days — Wednesday and Thursday — he will be walking off their set at 6 PM so he can come over and do our show. They want him to be able to stay later if they need that, then they want him to go home and rest and learn lines for the next day. Wednesday evening, he will rehearse with us. Thursday evening, he will tape with us.

There's apparently no point in getting angry at him so they get angry at us, like it's unprofessional of us to make an offer to their actor. I have nothing at all to do with schedules nor did I hire Larry Hagman but one of their Production Managers phones me to complain and to say things like, "How would you like it if we hired one of your stars to moonlight while you're shooting?" I tell him (a) he's quite welcome to any or all of them and (b) if he doesn't like it, he should call Fred Silverman at NBC. In a semi-threatening tone, he tells me we'd better not keep Hagman up late. "He has to be in makeup for us by 6 AM each day."

Wednesday evening, Larry Hagman walks into our rehearsal at around 7 PM. He is utterly charming and human and just about the nicest guy you could ever want to meet. He is so thrilled to be working with Sid Caesar but he is also genuinely polite and gracious to everyone…and very humble. Well aware he is new to this "variety show thing," he asks everyone if he's doing this or that right, if we're okay with how he's reading certain lines, etc. He even comes up with one great joke to add to a routine.

During breaks, he and I get to talking and I tell him — true story — that I was in a "test" audience once that was shown the pilot to his earlier TV series, I Dream of Jeannie. I was among those in the test group that voted to put the show on the air. He loves me for that and thanks me like I am wholly responsible for his career. He also likes that I don't ask him what's up in the current Dallas storyline…though he did let me in on a secret. He'd just come from filming a scene in which his character, J.R. Ewing, was shot and may die. "It's going to be the cliffhanger at the end of this season. Everyone will have to wait until September to find out if J.R. lives or dies and who shot him." I am not a watcher of Dallas but I have to ask, "Okay, so who shot him and are you coming back?"

He says he doesn't know who shot him. "I don't think the producers have figured that out yet or if they have, they ain't telling." As for coming back next season, he says that all depends on how contract negotiations go. In other words, how much they pay him. It is at this moment that he tells me and some of the others who work on the show, the story of how he agreed to do it — Fred Silverman, the whistling, the commitment for two TV-movies. The commitment is one reason he can say, "If they [the Dallas folks] don't meet my price, I'll star in one of those TV-movies, we'll make sure it becomes a series and I'll do just fine."

We hurry Larry through rehearsals, well aware he has to get back to Malibu (a 30-45 minute drive) and learn lines and sleep before he has to be in Burbank at 6 AM but he doesn't seem to care. We tell him at 10 PM he can go. Still, he sticks around, discussing his scene with Sid and then chatting with us. I mention a movie he was in that I had recently seen — Fail Safe with Henry Fonda — and that elicits a half-hour of anecdotes, all of them riveting, about how green and nervous he felt on that set with all those seasoned actors. He segues to tales of his mother, the great Mary Martin, and what it was like to grow up in her world.

We talk of Jeannie and of his hat collection. The man collects hats. He has come to us wearing what he says is his favorite. It's a baseball cap imprinted with the logo of a company in Texas that sells, presumably for purposes of artificial insemination, bull semen. I can't imagine what else you'd use the stuff for. Sun screen?

Hagman calls that cap the supreme metaphor for show business. He also likes the looks he gets when people who are talking to him suddenly read his hat. He says, and this is clearly a reference in some way to his upcoming negotiations to return to Dallas next season, "Life is a whole lot more fun when you can keep other people just a little off-balance."

The stories go on and on. Every ten or fifteen minutes, I hear the voice of that Production Manager and I say something like, "Well, Larry, I know you have that long drive back to Malibu and an early call tomorrow…" Larry nods and grins and starts another anecdote. I finally escort him to his car and we stand there in the parking lot for another half-hour until, just past Midnight, he grudgingly heads home. I have no idea how he managed to get there, sleep, learn lines and be on the set the next morning at six but he did that. He filmed there all day, then came to us with a full load of energy to perform.

He was perfect in every capacity: Charming, funny, gracious to all, etc. At one point, we encountered a production delay that added at least an hour to our evening and forced all to sit around and wait. Not a peep of complaint was heard from Larry Hagman.

His key sketch, the one he'd been looking forward to, was just him, Sid Caesar, one other actor and two allegedly naked women. The actor was Jim Varney, who was later famous for his "Hey, Vern" routines. The ladies were not naked but you only saw their legs and were supposed to presume that somewhere above the top of your screen, each was indecently attired.

Caesar and Hagman play two businessmen going out to discuss contracts and terms at a restaurant. It turns out the restaurant has strippers and as Hagman tries to talk about financial matters, Caesar struggles to take his eyes off the young ladies and to focus on what Hagman is saying. Hagman is brilliantly deadpan throughout, making like the dancers aren't there. Caesar cannot take his eyes off them, especially as items of clothing fly from the stage and land upon him. It's a very short sketch but it's pretty funny and Larry Hagman is thrilled to have done it. Afterwards, he tells all, especially Sid, over and over what it means to him to appear in a sketch with the great Sid Caesar.

I again walk Larry to his car and we stand out in the parking lot for another half-hour as he tells me about his love of Caesar and of that style of comedy and how he wishes he had grown up to be Howie Morris. (As I will learn later when I work with the man, even Howie Morris wished he had grown up to be Howie Morris.) Larry finally heads back to Malibu around 1 AM, which I'm sure thrilled the crew over on Dallas no end.

Time passes, as it has a way of doing. I finish the sixth episode of Pink Lady (all anyone was contracted to do) and move on to another show. J.R. Ewing is shot on the final episode of Dallas that season and all of America wonders whodunnit. Those who are aware that Larry Hagman is renegotiating his contract are equally intrigued to know if J.R. will live or die. Larry does sign. J.R. comes back. It turns out J.R.'s mistress Kristin shot him. And at some point, Fred Silverman leaves NBC.

One day, I am over at the studio of that very same network, walking through a corridor and I hear a voice say of me, "I know that man." It is Larry Hagman. He doesn't recall my name — I wouldn't have expected him to — but he does recall me. I wouldn't have expected that, either. He hugs me and tells the folks he's with all about this sketch he got to do on our show with Sid Caesar and how it was a childhood fantasy come true. In the course of the chat, he casually mentions, "I had such a great time that it doesn't even bother me I didn't get paid."

"Didn't get paid?"

No, he tells me. He was supposed to get these two TV-movies to do for his production company but NBC kept stalling his lawyers on when…and then after Silverman departed, the network said, "What commitments? Nobody here knows anything about any TV-movie commitments to Mr. Hagman." He literally did not receive anything for doing our show.

I tell him, "That's awful" and I say I'll call Marty Krofft (he was the producer) and maybe we can get him paid some amount in some way. Legally, he must at least receive union scale.

Larry interrupts and tells me not to bother. "If you saw the deal I made to come back to Dallas, you'd know why this doesn't bother me. They're paying me millions." He insists I drop the entire matter saying, "I just told you that on account of I find it so funny the way they love you one moment in this town and the next, it's like "who the f are you?'" And he says it with a twinkle that reminds me why he is able to play J.R. Ewing so well. Then he adds, "Hey, you know what I would like? I don't have a copy of that show. If you could arrange that, I'd call it even."

I assure him that will be arranged and he gives me his address saying, "Now, if you lose that, just call the National Enquirer and ask them. They send a nice man around every night to go through my garbage." We part and I go home and phone Marty Krofft who arranges for a videotape to be messengered to Hagman's home.

End of that story. Here's the sequel…

A few days later, Marty's secretary Trudy phones and tells me, "Larry Hagman's assistant just called. He wants to send you something to thank you. Is it okay if I give them your address?" I tell her it's fine and I figure I'm about to get an autographed photo or a note or something. Two days later, a delivery man brings a large, cylindrical package to my door. It's from one of the most expensive stores in Beverly Hills and I want to say it was Abercrombie and Fitch. Maybe it wasn't but I'm going to say it was Abercrombie and Fitch.

Helping me open it — because she was there at the moment — is a young lady named Bridget Holloman, who was one of the dancers on Pink Lady. In fact, she provided one set of the legs Sid Caesar had ogled in that sketch. The box, we discover, contains a quite-lovely white Stetson-style cowboy hat. There's also a handwritten note. It says, "Thanks for being one of the good guys" and it's signed "Larry."

What a nice, thoughtful gesture. I certainly wasn't expecting anything from him, particularly something like this. But I don't wear hats and I certainly don't wear hats like this. Bridget, on the other hand does. She looks good in everything but she really looks good in this white Stetson except, of course, that it's a size or two too big for her. Fortunately, the box also contains a slip that says that if it doesn't fit, bring it back to the store and exchange it. I tell Bridget the hat is hers. "Take it back and get one that fits." Three days later, she goes to do that.

I'm working at home when I get a frantic call from her — from a pay phone at the store in Beverly Hills. At first from her tone, I think she's been mugged or beaten up or that something horrible has happened. "Calm down, Bridget," I tell her. "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

She takes a deep breath and says, like she's telling me the Earth has been invaded, "It's…it's a fourteen hundred dollar hat!"

She says they cheerily took it back and told her she had a little over $1,400 in store credit. This is around 1983. That was even more money then than it is now and it's a lot of money now. "What do I do?" she asks me. I tell her she can pick out another hat or anything else she wants or she can see if they'll let her take some or all of it in cash. I say, "Maybe you can buy a pair of $20 earrings and take $1,380 bucks in change." What she does is to buy a cheaper (and to my eye, almost identical) hat and take the rest in currency.

The almost-identical hat costs her under $200 and it makes a good point. If Larry Hagman wanted to send me a white cowboy hat, he could have spent $200 and I would have been perfectly pleased and impressed by the gesture. But he didn't. He spent $1,400.

Bridget wants to give me the change or at least split it with me but it's almost her birthday so we make a deal: She'll keep the cash but for the next six months, whenever we go to a restaurant, she pays. I kind of enjoy that when our server brings me a check, I can point to the cute blonde lady and say, "She's paying." I get some awfully odd looks.

Larry Hagman was right. Life is so much more interesting when you can keep other people just a little off-balance. I'm sorry his is over. There may be other stories about him that paint him as another kind of guy but this is my Larry Hagman story and I'm sticking to it.

At the recommendation of Robert J. Elisberg, my pal who writes for The Huffington Post and other venues, I'm embedding this clip of Larry Hagman, performing in 1980 with his mother, Mary Martin. He introduces her, they perform together, then she performs solo and then he returns to the stage for one more number. Hagman is clearly not comfortable with this kind of performing but they're both obviously having a great time and so is the audience. And stay tuned for my Larry Hagman Story, which will be appearing here in a couple of hours…