Category Archives: Uncategorized

We run so many obits on this site that it's nice when I can report that someone is healthy…

In May of '08, this site and many others reported that the great veteran comic book illustrator Gene Colan was pretty darn sick. A lot of folks rallied to his support with good wishes and even with fund-raising efforts to make some expensive medical treatments available to him. I am happy to report that Gene is now well enough to be back on the convention circuit. He'll be a guest at the Big Apple Con in New York on June 13 and he's a Guest of Honor at the Comic-Con International this July in San Diego. Yay.

Also getting better is the legendary Al Feldstein, who was the writer-editor of Tales from the Crypt and other classic EC Comics, and the editor of MAD magazine for 29 years. Al underwent double-bypass aortic valve replacement (i.e., heart surgery) on April 17 at the world famous Mayo Clinic. He's home now and recovering, and we're happy about that, too.

Contary to popular opinion, comic book editors do have hearts. They don't always use them but they have them.

I'm having a little e-mail problem. Anything sent me in the last 18 hours or so is trapped in an odd void where I can read it but not respond. This should correct itself soon.

I know I've written a lot about Dom DeLuise here but I can't resist sending you to two more links…

Deborah Friedman, who runs a blog called Plus Size Plum, talks about her experiences with the man.

And you've seen me rave about Zero Hour, a play in which my ol' pal Jim Brochu portrays the late Zero Mostel. Well, Dom went to see the play and wrote Jim the nicest letter anyone ever wrote an actor about his performance. Jim's companion Steve Schalchlin (Hi, Steve!) posted it on his blog.

Everything you need to know about Dom is pretty much in these two postings.

The University of Nebraska – Lincoln has a great comic book collection. It's completely made up of educational and government-commissioned comics but it's full of goodies and oddments, including some by some pretty important cartoonists and creators. You can view it online here and download PDFs of the books in question.

I wasn't particularly taken with the White House Correspondents Dinner last night. President Obama's speech was facile and appropriate, though I like him better when he's outclassing his foes. He does that better than engaging them, even in jest. I don't think any politician should get a lot of points for being able to deliver a joke someone else wrote. Several presidents of my lifetime have been pretty good at it and that didn't make them better presidents in any way.

I've enjoyed Wanda Sykes in the past, usually in small doses administered from Mr. Leno's guest chair. She deserves credit for keeping it a little shorter than most do and for not being afraid to do jokes that caused much of the audience to squirm a bit. I suspect a couple of the groaned reactions were feigned and/or a way of saying, "We're going to be hearing a lot of debate about that joke next week." Sitting home, Mr. Limbaugh was probably thrilled that he has something to be outraged about on Monday. If I'd spent my whole career savaging political opponents like he has, I'd look for every possible opportunity to play the victim card. He caters to an audience that will love hearing him lash back at the little black lesbian woman.

One e-mail this morn from a Conservative friend was annoyed that, by his count, she didn't take any shots at all at Obama. What I don't think some Republicans get is that there really aren't a lot of good Obama jokes, at least based on G.O.P. premises. You can mock things like the gifts he's given…and she did. But it's tough to write a joke about how he's a dirty commie socialist who wasn't really born in this country, isn't really Christian and can't say two words without a TelePrompter. For a political joke to work, the audience has to buy at least somewhat into the truth of the criticism and people don't…at least, not yet. The folks in that hotel ballroom last night sure don't, even if some find it financially advantageous to fan such flames.

But come on. 110 days into Bush's presidency, they weren't (yet) making jokes about him being unable to talk or read or being manipulated by Evil Cheney from an undisclosed location, either. In time, the Obama jokes will come. It's just too early for them.

It's not embeddable here but I wanted to call your attention to a documentary that's available for viewing on YouTube. It's called Burger Town and it's a great look at the fast food hamburger business in Southern California, past and present. It's full of old commercials and interviews with restaurant employees, as well as footage and stills of classic burger shrines. It runs about 48 minutes but if the topic interests you, it's well worth the time.

I don't care that Miss California had breast implants or that she posed for racy photos. I also don't care what she thinks about Gay Marriage. I don't know why anyone cares about anything besides how she looks in the bikini and even that's no big deal these days.

I thought we were coming around to the idea that beauty pageants were about beauty…and nothing else. Once upon a time, there were people in this country who pretended that to become Miss Wherever was to be a role model for young women everywhere. In truth, it was all just an exercise in creating a celebrity who could open boat shows for a year and make money for the pageant operators.

But of course, it would be shallow and undignified to admit that the contest is just about lovely young ladies in minimal attire…and if she's going to be cutting the ribbons at gas station openings, it would be nice if she could talk a little. Also, you can't fill a two-hour TV telecast with just swimsuit walkthroughs — so they stuck in talent competitions and the embarrassing little "question" segments where the competitors have 45 seconds to tell us how they'd achieve world peace. And not only do I not care about all this, no one cares about beauty pageants anymore. Miss America pageants used to be prime time major TV events and now they're on low-audience cable channels between reruns of The Jeffersons and infomercials for Kevin Trudeau's latest health scam. The Miss U.S.A. contest, which is where Miss California shot off about same-sex marriages is even less-watched.

Carrie Prejean may be a right-wing bigot but give the lady credit. She found a way to get a little fame and maybe some fortune out of a largely-ignored beauty pageant that she didn't even win. If she hadn't said what she did, all she'd have to show for the experience was the sash, a supply of Revlon products and some lovely parting gifts. Now, she has a chance to get some speaking engagements from right-wing groups and to be a martyr for their cause if, as seems likely, she's stripped of her title on Monday. There may be a book deal there or a job on Fox News. Whatever it is, it's more celebrity than any beauty contest winner has seen since…well, since Vanessa Williams lost her crown due to naughty photos.

Lesson to be learned? The only way to get anything out of being Miss Anything is to have a scandal. If all the contestants figured that out, those pageants might be worth watching.

My pal Lee Wochner has a sad story about Dom DeLuise. And it prompts me to expand on what I wrote earlier about why I decided I had to do something about my own weight.

Obviously, there are about a dozen fine reasons to not be 100+ pounds too big…and it doesn't really matter which is the most important. One that doesn't get a lot of attention is that you just don't fit into the world you're in. I was probably less concerned about shortening my life than I was with just causing problems while I was around — chairs I didn't fit onto, aisles I couldn't pass through, bumping into people, etc. Dropping tonnage has had all sorts of benefits to my health and sleeping and feet and such…but I'm also conscious that I can get into a seat on an airplane without needing a belt extender and crushing the person next to me.

Greg Ford has written a pretty good career overview of the man we call Tex Avery.

I wish there was a way people could see his films — and those by Chuck Jones, Bob Clampett, etc. — in something resembling the way they were meant to be seen. The cartoons weren't made to be seen on a small screen in your home with no audience around. They also weren't meant to be seen in film festivals, one after another.

My first real exposure to Tex Avery cartoons as an adult was when the L.A. County Art Museum hosted an evening of them with Tex there to speak after the screening. They had brand new prints and they had a lot of them. After three, the bright colors and frantic pace began to get a little tiring and after five, one started to notice a certain amount of repetition. After seven or eight, my friends and I fled to the lobby…where we found Tex holding court, talking to a gang of admirers. As he saw us join the throng, he joked, "More people who can't sit through too many of my films." One of my friends started to apologize that we weren't back in the theater, studying every frame of every cel. Tex said, "Don't be sorry. I had to leave after three." None of us thought the films weren't brilliant and hilarious. We just couldn't take them in mega-doses.

I just set my TiVo to record tomorrow's White House Correspondents Dinner. My understanding is that the pre-show (arrivals, interviews, etc.) starts at 8 PM and the dinner itself starts at 9:50 and runs (officially) until 11 PM but will probably run longer. Those are all East Coast times. I'm on the West Coast so I'm recording from 5 PM until 9PM. That oughta do it.

In 1995, we did a set of Groo Trading Cards that folks still avidly collect. It's not hard to amass a complete set but it is tough to find these things called "sketch cards." There were fifty of them, I think, inserted randomly into the little packets of cards.

One side of each sketch card was printed. You can see what that looked like above at the far left. Then on the other side of the card, Groo creator Sergio Aragonés drew anything he felt like drawing. The other image above shows you an example.

A couple of avid Groo collectors (there are such people) are attempting to locate the whereabouts of as many sketch cards as possible. Do you perhaps have one? If you do, dropan e-mail and tell him all about it. You'll make the man so happy.

Every time I mention torture on this weblog, I get an e-mail from someone saying, in effect, "We can't fault the Republicans because some Democrats knew about it and gave at least tacit approval." Okay, fine. I think torture is illegal, immoral, destructive to our standing in the world and probably of little use except to extract false confessions. Its supporters seem to think it's useful for gaining information — or at least, it might occasionally be useful. And since it might be, we need to ignore that it might be illegal, immoral or destructive to our standing in the world.

That certain Democrats may have signed off on it does not change anything except that we have an even longer list of people who are ethically and judgmentally unfit to be in government. I dunno how true it is that Nancy Pelosi was briefed on waterboarding and such and then nodded her head in compliance. But if she did, she oughta be outta there along with everyone else who knew about the practices and didn't raise a cuticle to stop them. Nowhere in our system of government is it written that breaking the law can be overlooked if it's bi-partisan.

Here at newsfromme.com, we're huge fans of Frank Ferrante. This is only logical since we're huge fans of Julius "Groucho" Marx and Mr. Ferrante is an uncanny replicator of the late Mr. Marx…and in a way that goes a few notches beyond mere impersonation. He tours the country with a show called An Evening With Groucho and that's what it really is. He enters as himself, paints on the mustache, fluffs up the hair and about eight seconds later, you've completely forgotten about Frank Ferrante. It's just Groucho up there on the stage for a little under two hours…as remarkable a transformation as if the guy had come out and turned himself into a bengal tiger or something. Except that he really does it. He really turns into Groucho.

For years now, I've been hard-selling visitors to this site to go see Frank. It's led to loads of thank-you notes, along with some irate mail — folks pleading with me to get him to tour in their neck of the woods, or they're annoyed with me that he isn't coming near them. Well, listen up, Nebraska! This weekend, for the first time ever, Ferrante's coming to your state. May 9 and 10, he'll be at the Holland Performing Arts Center in Omaha, Nebraska for two riotous (I'm sure) shows.

He'll be singing. He'll be dancing. He may even be walking around in a familiar crouched position. There will be a performance of the immortal tune Groucho wrote with Harry Ruby called "Omaha, Nebraska," which really oughta be your state song. And in honor of Mother's Day, he'll be singing another song Ruby wrote called "Father's Day."

Trust me. Go see this guy…and here's a tip. Take along your camera. After the show, Frank's usually out in the lobby in his Groucho suit. If you go up to him and say the secret words ("I heard about this on Evanier's blog"), he'll pose for a photo with you. No, it's not the real Groucho but it's a lot closer than you could possibly imagine. You can view his future schedule on this page.

Geoff Boucher chats with our friend Jerry Robinson. Recently, I heard someone who'd begun working in comics in 1997, and who had created nothing that had yet shown any staying power, as a "legend." And I had to wonder: If you call that guy a "legend," what noun could you possibly apply to someone who's done all that Jerry's done?

By the way, I'll be interviewing Jerry, and a few other guys worthy of that word, at the Comic-Con International this July. I'm not sure which day yet but it might just be one of the few that isn't already sold out.

The Moulin Rouge in Las Vegas can't catch a break. Opened in 1955, it was the first hotel-casino in the town to cater to blacks. Back when people of color were unwelcome at the Stardust or Tropicana, they were welcome to lose everything at the Moulin Rouge. The place was also notable for, some said, the best entertainment in the city. Headliners at the "white" hotels were said to finish their shows, then scurry over to the Moulin Rouge and hear Nat King Cole, Pearl Bailey or Louis Armstrong…

…for five months. That's how long the place was open. No one has ever explained exactly why it closed — "poor management" is an oft-mentioned reason — but its owners filed for bankruptcy before '55 was over and that's when the legend got interesting. The stylish building was largely vacant for decades after, reopening partially and occasionally for special events or location shooting. Its most interesting use was in 1960 when Vegas was torn by protests over racial discrimination. A meeting was convened between the N.A.A.C.P. and major hotel owners and it was held, appropriately, at the Moulin Rouge. There, the desegregation of Las Vegas was negotiated and announced.

But the Moulin Rouge was never again a hotel-casino. Every year or two, someone would announce plans to refurbish and reopen. Every year or two, plans would fall through. And every few years, some portion of the building would catch fire. In 1992, it was listed in the National Register of Historic Places but deals continued to fall through and fires continued to erupt. Recently, some pretty firm plans were announced to renovate the existing structure and add on a new 700-room hotel, casino, concert venue and jazz center. And then yesterday afternoon, most of the existing structure was consumed in a new fire.

On the one hand, it's a shame. It was a beautiful building and the place had an important sense of history. On the other hand, it's kinda nice when a hotel's as unlucky as most of us are in Vegas.