Category Archives: Uncategorized

The debate goes on over whether or not the U.S. should declare war on Iraq.  I haven't made up my mind and may not for some time.  I think good points were made in this article about why we shouldn't (yet) by John Kerry, and this article on why we should (now) by George Shultz.

Those of you interested in animation, stop reading this page and hustle over to www.frankandollie.com, which is the new domain of Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston.  They are, as you know, the last two of Disney's fabled "Nine Old Men" — two lifelong friends who have worked on more great animated films than a lot of folks will ever see.  Their site has animation tips, biographical info and even a new, on-line cartoon that they've been creating.  It's…uh, unusual.  But I think for two guys in their age bracket to embrace the Internet and get a website up and running is terrific so I'll not quibble.

Younger cartoonists have websites, too.  I just this minute found out that Scott Shaw! has a website up showing lots of his fine work.  It's at www.shawcartoons.com and if he'd told me about it, I would have plugged it sooner.

Forgot to mention that the Heads Up on that episode of Password was courtesy of my buddy, Rick Scheckman, a fully-tenured member of the staff (and, on occasion, the cast) of The Late Show with David Letterman.  Thanks, Shecky.

The comedian Lewis Black has a joke which I'll probably get wrong here but it's a good joke.  It'll survive my mistelling.  It has to do with a half-time show at a football game that he found himself watching — one of those relentless celebrations of patriotism and flag-waving and America's fruited plains.  "After two or three hours of this," he says, "I was actually sick of freedom."

I'm afraid I'm starting to feel something similar regarding tributes to the fallen heroes of 9/11 and resurrections of national grief.  I feel as bad about what happened that day as anyone.  I also have the greatest respect for firemen and other emergency workers and, unlike many who sing their praises, I think the least we can do is to pay these people better.  But all the remembrances and memorials and slow-motion montages are starting to ring very phony to me, especially when accompanied by someone making a profit or wrapping themselves in the tattered flag.  Even some of the well-intentioned ones are already starting to feel like overkill and we have almost a week of this to go.

What I think I'd like to see is someone — anyone, but preferably a person of some prominence — get up and say, "Hey, things haven't changed as much as we thought they would.  We're a much more resilient people than even we knew."  I'd also like to see more folks complain that, for all the outpouring of woe and a national consensus to do whatever was necessary to prevent another 9/11, we are still slow and stingy bastards when it comes to spending a little more money on airport security or firefighters' salaries.  Most of all, I think I'd like to see the nation experience a mass revulsion at those who have tried to exploit the tragedy to sell cheap merchandise or cheaper political causes.

I'm not holding my breath…

An indeterminate number of years ago today, an unsuspecting woman in Spain gave birth to a baby cartoonist.  His name was Sergio Aragonés and he grew up to be the most honored drawer of funny pictures in the business.  I think he now has every single award for cartooning that he could possibly win, including the National Cartoonists Society's Reuben Award and an induction into the Will Eisner Hall of Fame.  None of this, of course, is as important as the fact that he's my best friend, at least among human beings capable of sprouting facial hair; that, as he demonstrated over Labor Day Weekend for some of us, he cooks a great Paella; and that as smart as he is, he still can't figure out my magic tricks.  If I could just get him to pay me when we work together, he'd be perfect.

Thursday night / Friday morning on the Game Show Network, they're scheduled to run an episode of Password with cartoonists Mort Walker and Al Capp.  It originally aired 5/20/65.  (And did you see that To Tell the Truth the other night with Ted "Dr. Seuss" Geisel as one of the contestants?)

And I don't know what I'm doing up at 6 AM, either.  Good night.

Once upon a time, Jackie Mason was a very funny performer who also had a gift for getting into silly public spats.  Based on what I've seen of him lately, he seems to have gotten worse at the first skill and better at the second.  You'd think a guy who was once ordained as a rabbi would do a little better job of anger management.  His latest tiff has to do with a comedian who was supposed to open for him at a Chicago gig.  Then the comedian was cancelled, ostensibly only because he was self-identified as a Palestinian.  Mason claims it was the decision of the club, Zanies, struggling to avert a massive protest and keep the doors open.

My friend Jay Zilber has spent a little time studying all the press accounts of the squabble and come to some interesting and, I think, largely correct deductions.  Basically, as Jay says here, everyone involved misbehaved and the press accounts have taken a complicated story and reduced it to a simple, inaccurate summary.  The Palestinian comic, Ray Hanania, seems to be way too interested in promoting his dismissal for publicity purposes.  On the other hand, Jackie Mason's side botched this up and, at least on Crossfire, Mason was insulting people for interpreting the situation exactly the way his own publicist originally tried to spin it.  Jay reveals many details I did not hear or read about before, most notably that Hanania was not merely Mason's one-shot opening act but was actually booked as the (solo) headliner at the comedy club for the whole weekend, and was only cancelled as Mason's opener.  That changes the picture…a lot.

The one place I might disagree with Jay is when he says, "Mason — having obviously never been blindsided by a publicity stunt like this — elicits a small amount of sympathy from me."  Not from me.  I think Jackie Mason has spent most of his career working the other side of this racket, rushing to the press to claim victimization (and, often, discrimination) every time he's suffered any kind of setback anywhere.  He may not have had it done to him before but he certainly knows the drill.

For some time the funniest "person" on TV has been Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, as performed by Bob Smigel for Late Night With Conan O'Brien.  The other night at the MTV Music Video Awards, Triumph was attempting to interview music star Eminem when things got ugly.  For some reason, Eminem didn't want to be interviewed by a snotty puppet and…well, I'm not sure what happened.  But a friend who works on Mr. O'Brien's show says they're running the tape on tonight's show (the one that airs Thursday morn at 12:35 AM in most markets) and that it's the funniest thing he's ever seen.  So you might want to see.  If you miss it, it'll rerun the following day on Comedy Central.

Which reminds me: Video recorders, be they VHS or TiVo, have an option to record a show that airs Monday through Friday.  When will someone include an option to record Tuesday through Saturday?  Lots of shows that air in the early morning, like Conan O'Brien and Last Call and Craig Kilborn's program actually air Tuesday through Saturday, as will Jimmy Kimmel's forthcoming show.  On the websites for these shows, they all list their upcoming broadcasts in terms of Monday through Friday but you can't program a VCR to believe that an airing that starts at 1:30 AM Tuesday is a Monday show.

The following is from the Bloomberg News Service.  The Disney folks had a big meeting in New York to unveil the ABC schedule to advertisers.  Jimmy Kimmel, who's taking over the late night slot after Nightline, took the stage…

"I could be the best thing to happen to this network since Mike Ovitz joined the Disney empire and took all your money," Kimmel said, referring to the $140 million severance pay Disney gave its former president after ousting him in 1996, 15 months into the job.

Disney Chairman and Chief Executive Officer Michael Eisner, 60, seated in the seventh row, stretched his long legs into the aisle and didn't crack a smile.

Seems like all the prominent Republicans and right-wing newspapers are giving up on Bill Simon, G.O.P. candidate for governor.  This will mean four more years of Gray Davis…a fact I blame wholly on Simon.  If Davis were running unopposed, he'd lose.

Does Bush need Congressional approval before he declares war on Iraq?  Again, from a practical standpoint, no one may be able to stop him, law or no law.  But to the extent the law matters, it's explained well (I think) by John Dean and here's the link to see him explain it.

Happy birthday week to my friend of 30-some-odd years, Master Cartoonist Scott Shaw!  You can see his fine handiwork in recent Simpsons comic books, and read his daily explorations of bizarre funnybooks over at his page at Comic Book Resources.  Merry week and many more!

I am embarrassed to be informed by (so far) Kevin Greenlee, Jim Hill, Mark Mayerson and Michael Goldberg that the "Bye Bye Baby" number in the Evian commercial is originally from the show Gentleman Prefer Blondes.  Why am I embarrassed?  Because, as noted here, I saw this show performed about six months ago.  Well, I knew I knew it from somewhere.  Jim thinks the choral arrangement in the commercial is a direct lift from the movie with Marilyn Monroe, which I don't seem to have in my collection.

And it's off to the printer with Mad Art, a celebration of the Usual Gang of Idiots who have drawn Mad Magazine for the last half-century.  It's coming out in October or maybe early November from Watson-Guptill and it's full of peachy drawings by those guys, and lengthy biography and discussion by the operator of this website, who interviewed just about everyone who ever drew for the mag (including, years ago, gents who are no longer with us).  You can advance order this baby from Amazon by clicking here.  If you have a lick of sense about you, you will.  Then again, if you had a lick of sense you wouldn't be reading this website.

George S. Kaufman wrote the Marx Brothers' first "book" musical that played Broadway. It was called Cocoanuts and it tended to vary from night to night as Groucho, Harpo, Chico and sometimes even Zeppo ad-libbed and threw in inside jokes and generally departed from the script.

One night during a performance, Kaufman was backstage talking with newsman Heywood Broun. Broun noticed Kaufman seemed distracted and asked what was wrong.

"I may be wrong," the playwright said. "But I think I just heard one of the original lines."

I notice that this year's Jerry Lewis Telethon was directed by Artie Forrest, who I mentioned here earlier.  Someone ought to do a big, high-profile article on this man who may hold the current record for directing the most talk shows, game shows, variety shows, awards shows and telethons of any man alive.  (He's lately been directing alternate episodes of Whose Line Is It, Anyway?)  When I worked with Artie, he demonstrated an uncanny ability to direct a six-camera live show while simultaneously telling bawdy jokes to everyone in the booth.

Once upon a time, he was Jackie Gleason's favorite cameraman.  This was back on the Dumont network.  Every week on his program, Gleason would do a five minute pantomime routine in his character of The Poor Soul, and he would never rehearse it.  Shortly before the broadcast — and remember, this is live television — Gleason would take Artie onto the set and tell him, "Okay, I'm going to enter on the left and then I'll move over here, and then I'll do some crap and then run over to the right.  Then I'll either come downstage or go back out to the left and then run back in.  And after that, I don't know what I'll do but whatever it is, keep it all on camera and in focus."

And that was it.  Artie would have to cover Gleason running all over the stage with no real idea where he might move next.  Amazingly, he usually managed it…but he developed nerves of titanium.  Directing Jerry has got to be a comparative cinch.

We have a smart crowd browsing this site so I'm betting someone will have the answer on the tip of their modem.  You know that TV commercial for Evian water?  The one with infants doing water ballet?  Behind it all, a chorus is singing, "Bye Bye Baby."  Where is this song from?  I know it from somewhere…

Way back in 1972, the fine comedian George Kirby starred in a short-lived syndicated comedy series entitled Half the George Kirby Comedy Hour.  According to The Internet Movie Database, I was one of the writers on this show.  This is not so and I've told them as much.  Let's see how long it takes them to change the listing.  Actually, I did work with George Kirby many years later, on a project that never got off the ground.  If you don't recall him, he was a very gifted black comedian who did incredible impressions.

He headlined in Vegas and for a time, was a regular on all the talk shows.  He also starred in a few other short-lived series, such as The Copycats and Rosenthal and Jones.  In 1977, he was caught trying to sell heroin to a man who turned out to be an undercover narcotics officer.  This is not a smart thing to do and Kirby was sentenced to ten years in prison.  Paroled after three and a half, he never quite got his career going again, and was reduced to playing some pretty humiliating, low-paying bookings.

In the mid-eighties, he came up with an idea for a cartoon series based around Michael Jackson's pets (the llama, Bubbles the Chimp, etc.), and Michael liked the idea.  Mainly though, The King of Pop liked the idea of helping a fellow entertainer who was down on his luck, and so he gave the project his blessing.  I was brought in to try and make something out of the idea.  Unfortunately, it wasn't much of a concept, especially when Michael declined to be animated…and at least one of the networks was uncomfortable at the idea of letting a convicted drug dealer become involved in the production of a kids' show.  (He wouldn't have been the first but for some reason, at that moment, it bothered them.)

No one ever bought the show but Kirby didn't care too much, as he suddenly fell into a flurry of decent performing jobs.  I wish this story had a happier ending but soon after, he took ill and had to stop working.  He was eventually diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease and passed away in 1995.  He was a very funny man and I hope someone interviewed him extensively before he went…because he'd worked with everyone and boy, did he have stories.

Because he needed the money, Orson Welles signed to appear in a play where the rest of the cast was, to put it politely, inexperienced. He was the only real pro involved so on the first day of rehearsal, he made a little speech to the other players…

He said, "We're going to be doing this play for several weeks and the law of averages dictates that at some point, some egregious mistake will be made. Someone will miss a cue, someone will forget a line, something will happen. When this occurs, do not panic. I am on stage for almost the entire play and I have decades of acting experience. Every disaster that can possibly happen has happened to me and I can handle anything…

"So when something goes wrong," he continued, "do not attempt to ad-lib. Just leave it to me. Whatever it is, I will find a way to cover the error and continue on." The members of the novice cast were reassured by this and felt confident they were in good hands.

Things went well until opening night. In the middle of Act Two, the prop man accidentally rang a telephone in the wrong scene. There was no phone call in that scene and all the actors on stage froze, wondering what to do. Fortunately, Mr. Welles announced, "I'll get it," and they all relaxed, confident Orson would handle it. They knew he would answer the phone, ad-lib some sort of conversation and then work his way back to the text of the play.

Welles picked up the phone, said hello and pretended to listen for a second. Then he turned to the actress next to him, held out the receiver and said, "It's for you."

A couple of folks wrote to ask me if I think Jerry Lewis does his annual telethon (in progress as I write this) for selfish or altruistic reasons.  The answer, I suspect, is All of the Above.  I think it's a good thing that the money is being raised for the charity, if only because it brings a lot of aid and comfort to folks who have to live with crippling disease.  Too much attention is probably focused on the notion of actually curing dystrophy; not enough to the vast amounts of good that are done just to help its victims get through the day.

Does Jerry do it for personal glory?  Probably, and I don't think it matters.  The nature of telethons is that they feed egos and hype careers.  It's unavoidable and I've actually heard performers say that they don't do fund-raisers because it feels somewhat hypocritical to derive personal benefits from something that's supposed to aid others.  I think that's a reasonable, perhaps admirable position.  But I also understand that some don't see it that way and that they genuinely think it's wonderful that their performing skills can generate a few bucks to help crippled kids.

There is much on Mr. Lewis's annual telethons that makes me cringe, especially the parade of celebs who otherwise couldn't get national exposure.  Jer not only puts them on, he extols them as great humanitarians and fiercely plugs their current appearances.  Last night, he did a hard sell that had nothing to do with Muscular Dystrophy, urging people to go see his friend Peter Bogdanovich's new movie.  I wish less of the telethon was like that but I'm afraid that's the nature of these beasts.

Years ago, I got into a friendly argument with a lovely gent named Artie Forrest, who is one of the all-time great TV directors.  Artie was then handling Jerry's telethon and was defending it to just about everyone he met.  They were all saying it was tasteless; that it had less to do with helping sick children than sick show biz careers; that Jerry was going to give himself a muscular ailment from patting himself on the back.  I told Artie that I thought it would be possible to raise even more money each year without all that ego-massage.  "Perhaps," I said, "If the telethon weren't so tacky, bigger stars would appear and larger sums would be collected."

Artie didn't disagree.  But he said something that I thought was very true and very realistic.  He said, approximately, "Yeah, but Jerry raises a helluva lot of money doing it his way, and nobody else is doing anything.  You can talk all you want about other ways it might be done, and you might be right.  But, in the meantime, he's buying research and wheelchairs and getting results."

The more I think about it, the more I think Artie was right.  When it comes to something like this, results matter.