Daniel Klos sent me this…

Following up on your recent Jim Backus posting, you said that you briefly met him at a party. I'm assuming it was a party with other show biz folks? For those of us who have never been (and likely never will go) to a Hollywood party, what are they like? Are they like a networking event in other industries? I'm guessing that there are usually people there of varying levels of fame.

Do people get starstruck at these parties? Or do most people check their egos at the door? Particularly for someone like you who grew up in Los Angeles and were regularly around people that most of us would consider celebrities of varying degrees (e.g., meeting Jerry Lewis at the dentist; living next door to an actress on The Andy Griffith Show; meeting Richard Chamberlain at a neighbor's house; working for Jack Kirby as a teenager). Have you ever gotten starstruck?

First off, as a kid, I "met" (if you can call it that) Jerry Lewis for about twenty seconds at my pediatrician's office, not my dentist's. I was seven, he was pretty rude and as I think back on things, maybe that encounter was the reason that I was pretty shy around celebrities when I was young. And now that I think about the previous sentence, maybe it wasn't that I was shy around celebrities so much as that I was shy around strangers in general.

I remember — and this was after the Jerry encounter — my mother and I ran into Frances Bavier in a Newberry's five-and-dime shop. She was, of course, the lady who played Aunt Bee on The Andy Griffith Show and my mother said hello to her and told her we were next-door neighbors to her co-star on that series, Betty Lynn. Ms. Bavier couldn't have been nicer but for some reason, I was as afraid of her the way you'd be afraid of Godzilla. But then I was that way around strangers who weren't on TV, too.

Eventually, I outgrew most of that and I got over a big speed bump, vis-à-vis celebs the day I met Groucho Marx. At that age, he might have been the biggest star (to me, at least) I could have met then…and the fact that I didn't make a total and utter fool of myself gave me confidence in that area. As I mentioned in another piece on this blog, not long before Stan Laurel died, I turned down an opportunity to go to his apartment for a visit. What stopped me? A deep fear that I'd make a total and complete fool of myself…and be reminded of that every time I watched a Laurel & Hardy movie for the rest of my life.

"Show Biz Parties" — there has to be a better name for them than that — are pretty much like any parties. In the early seventies, my main lady friend was a physical education instructor and we went to a lot of parties involving her friends, mainly from the places she worked. As with any parties anywhere, it's a little awkward for me to be in someone else's home with many people I just plain don't know and with whom I may not share any common interests. A lot of those parties were indistinguishable from what you call a "Hollywood party" with, sometimes, one or both of these two exceptions…

One is that if you're around people who are on TV or famous at that level, you have to deal with the issue of recognition. A few years ago at a party, I fell into a conversation with a lady and it was a very pleasant, friendly, funny conversation. We hadn't been introduced and about ten minutes into the chat, I stopped and said, "Oh, I should introduce myself. My name is Mark Evanier and you are…?"

She said "Anita Gillette" and I was embarrassed because I knew that was. I'd seen her on the stage, thought she was wonderful and it somehow didn't occur to me that evening that the woman I was talking with — the one who looked and sounded exactly like Anita Gillette — was Anita Gillette. She was very sweet about the non-recognition but I still felt a bit ashamed of myself. That kind of thing never happened at the parties where my girl friend who taught Phys. Ed. was introducing me to other folks who taught Phys. Ed.

The other difference in parties full of folks "in the industry" (as some say) is what you asked about "networking." This is best explained by my umpteenth recycling of my one story about Betty White. It appears on this blog with only slightly less frequency than the story about Mel Tormé and the Christmas carolers and the notices of where Frank Ferrante is next appearing…

Some years ago, I was at a party full of Hollywood-type people and I was introduced to Betty White. Told that I was the producer of The Garfield Show, she instantly said to me, "Why haven't I been on The Garfield Show?" I smiled and said, "Because you're on everything else!" I don't think any TV actor at whatever age she was then has ever been in more demand than Betty White was at the time.

We wound up talking about other things and parting. Then a little later, she came up to me and said, "I hope you know I was only half-serious when I asked you, 'Why haven't I been on The Garfield Show.'" I said, "I assumed as much but just out of curiosity…what about the other half? You're on like twenty-seven TV shows these days. We pay scale to all our guest stars. If I did want to hire you, are you even available? And are you available for that money?"

She thought for a second and said, "No, I guess I'm not. The money wouldn't matter all that much but I just don't really have the time." Then she asked me, "Do you have any experience with feral cats?"

I told her about the small herd of them I feed in my backyard. She said, "Well, then maybe you're aware of this. Looking for food is hardwired into most feral cats. Their lives revolve around finding the next meal so even if you feed one and she stuffs herself, a minute later, she's thinking, 'Where is food? Where do I find food?' They can't help themselves. I'm afraid most actors are like that. Even when they have a job, they're thinking, 'Where is my next one?'"

"When we were doing The Golden Girls, there was a point where we were picked-up for two more seasons and I had all these other things I was doing. I was turning down offer after offer because I just didn't have the time open. And still, there were moments when a little voice in me was wondering, 'What are you going to do when this ends?' Actors…at times, we're all like feral cats!"

A party full of industry people can sometimes have that Feral Cat Factor. I'm especially conscious of it during those periods in my life when I have a position that someone who's not working might think can lead to them working. Not always…maybe not even most of the time…but sometimes, it can add an uncomfy subtext to the interactions. As I mentioned here recently, I leave parties when too many people have had too many cocktails. I've also left because of this.

Those two exceptions aside, "Show Biz Parties" — at least the ones I've been to — aren't much different from any parties someone in another line of work might attend. One of the first things I learned about the entertainment field is that there ain't nearly as much glamour on the inside as folks on the outside assume. Or if there is, it's at parties to which I am not invited.

Trump called yesterday's U.S. air strikes on Iran a "spectacular military success" — which, I suppose, it may have been on some level, I dunno. I do know that Trump calls every single thing he does a "spectacular success," even when it clearly isn't. I don't see this move being described as a "spectacular military success" by anyone important who has the option of not saying that.

There are many scary elements to this but perhaps the scariest is the possibility that it was not a move intended to solve the crisis in that region of the world but rather the crisis in Donald Trump's ego. I sure hope this article by Bill Curry isn't right. Here's a key excerpt…

Trump needs attention like Dracula needs blood, and the Israel-Iran war, in which the U.S. has now become an active participant, struck at the worst possible time in his feeding cycle. On Saturday, June 14, he'd just staged a disastrous military parade — presumably to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army, but actually held in his own honor — at which there was no John Phillips Sousa, no red white and blue bunting and, worst of all, no adoring crowds. There were only camouflaged soldiers in a silent procession closer to the Stations of the Cross than a Fourth of July parade.

Meanwhile, millions of his severest critics were throwing a raucous bash in honor of our democracy. The "No Kings" rallies may have been the biggest protest ever held in America. A palpably joyous celebration, it was everything Trump dreamed his parade would be, and just like his parade, it was all about him, only not in a good way.

But read the whole article…or don't if the idea of this "leader" leading us into war scares the bejeesus out of you.

For those of you who are getting sick of hearing "For the Longest Time" performed by one or two people or four people, here's a whole group performing it. I think these folks are German. At least, the name of their group is Potsdamer Kneipenchor and that sure sounds German to me. Note that the lady in the Paul Lynde/Ann B. Davis position looks a little too happy to be doing this and also that one of the other ladies was apparently so embarrassed that she hid her face for the first half…

Back when I reviewed this year's Tony Awards (here), I praised the closing musical number sung by Cynthia Erivo and speculated that it was written by Alex Edelman, who was credited for Special Material in the final crawl.  Logical assumption…but wrong.  According to this article over on Playbill, "Tony-winning composers Benj Pasek, Justin Paul, Marc Shaiman, and Scott Wittman quickly crafted that closing number (with the moral support of Alex Edelman, who supplied the jokes for the evening)."

Here's another look at that number with very clever lyrics written in a hurry. And no, she is not singing "For the Longest Time"…

Graeme Burk sent me this question and I don't think he's going to like my answer…

My Ask ME question! I was surprised to find you listed among the contributors in Maurice Horn's The World Encyclopedia of Comics, which was a much loved book when I was a kid (it seemed like every bookstore had a copy of it in the late '70s and early '80s, along with Crown's reprint books for Superman and Batman). I don't remember you contributing to it (Joe Brancatelli did most of the comic book related things). Do you remember what you contributed and what it was like working with Maurice Horn, the editor? I have tremendous sentimental regard for this book and would love to know more!

I don't remember much about what I contributed to it but all the listings I wrote were signed with my name or initials or something. I haven't opened my copy of it in a couple of decades. What I do recall is that my friend Joe Brancatelli had dumped upon him a long, long list of entries they needed him to write in a short, short amount of time for not-very-good money.  He then enlisted me to help out and do a dozen or so of them, maybe less. At first, I dealt with Joe, who was and still is smart, a very nice guy and someone committed to high standards of journalism. Then I dealt with Maurice.

I had nothing to do with the book beyond those few entries I wrote but when I received a copy, I found an awful lot of misinformation. I even found errors had been added to some of the listings I wrote.

Today, I could mount a slight (very slight) defense of the book. At the time, very little had been written about the history of comic books and it was in some ways, a starting point. Isn't there a saying that goes something like, "History has to be written wrong before it can be written right?" Something like that? Well, if there isn't, there should be.

A lot of erroneous "facts" came from folks who'd created the comic books and strips that were being chronicled. In one of the few "going to the source" interviews conducted for the book, Joe talked with Bob Kane and Bob claimed to have been born in 1929. This, of course, caused Joe to then ask, "So you were twelve when Batman was created?"

Kane insisted that date was right but Joe knew better so that was one untruth that didn't make it in the book. Others did though, some from bad sources like Bob, some from articles that were not as accurate as they might have been. Today, there's been a lot more comic book history excavated and peer-reviewed and there's more skepticism applied to what sometimes comes from inflated egos, diminished memories…or even publishers who for legal/business reasons don't want the history to be accurate.

I spoke to Joe before I wrote this blog post to jog my memory and he pointed out a foundational problem with the book. Mr. Horn and his closest associates were vastly more interested in comic strips (like in newspapers) than comic books and more interested in comics around the world, not so much the ones in this country. They kind of looked down on American comic books and didn't know a whole lot about them, which is why they needed contributors like Joe and me. If they'd interviewed Bob Kane, they would probably have printed that he was born in 1929.

Joe and I both disavowed the book. I think some of the other contributors did as well.  At one point, I wrote Mr. Horn and asked — politely, I thought — that my name be removed from any future editions or updates. I don't think I have his reply letter any longer but I recall that it didn't address my request. Instead, he said that I was fat and stupid…which I thought was kind of a reasonable response.

One of the last times I even thought about the book was in the late eighties when I wrote a special for NBC that, in a segment that never made it to air for reasons of length, mentioned a whole bunch of cartoon characters. NBC had a policy then that every script had to be submitted to a research firm — there were several in town and I assume there still are — that would do a light "fact check" on the contents.  If you made reference to Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the report would say something like, "Franklin Delano Roosevelt was the 32nd president of the United States."  Just in case you'd mentioned him without knowing that.

More importantly, if you named a character "Jeremiah Nostrilhair," they would report, "We can find no reference anywhere for a Jeremiah Nostrilhair so the name can be presumed fictitious." This allegedly gave the network some sort of legal protection if after the show aired, some person named Jeremiah Nostrilhair came forward and threatened to sue. It demonstrated that the network had done its due diligence and at least made an effort to make sure they were not thoughtlessly besmirching the good name of Nostrilhair. I guess.

So this script I wrote for NBC was submitted for "research" and back came a report identifying all the references I'd made to that whole bunch of cartoon characters and the "research" was full of mistakes. I don't know why but I felt the need to call the research company and tell them so. A semi-nice lady assured me that they were super-competent researchers and with the self-assuredness of anyone now working in the Trump Administration, she told me that they never, ever, How Dare You Suggest Otherwise? got anything wrong.

I asked for her source and she told me that they always on such matters consulted The World Encyclopedia of Comics from Chelsea House Publishers, "widely-accepted as the definitive authority on the subject." That was her description of it, not mine.  I told her it was not widely-accepted as that and when she argued that it was, I called her attention to my name listed as one of its contributors. Did you ever hear the blood drain out of someone's face over the phone?

Ms. Nostrilhair (or whatever her name was) replied in a mutter, "I'll look into it" and hung up. That might be the last time I thought about the book until I received Graeme Burk's e-mail the other day asking me about it. But I'm glad to set the record a bit straighter and it gave me an excuse to call my friend Joe and catch up with him.

Joe told me something else about the book that I don't think I knew before. On the spine on the dust jacket, the name of the book is of course printed in big letters and as you can see, they have a little drawing of Pogo Possum running to add a missing "C" to the world "encyclopedia." Here — take a look…

See it there? Joe says that was not someone's creative idea because they thought it would be cute or funny. According to him, the dust jackets for the book were printed and then someone noticed that the word "encyclopedia" was spelled wrong.  A letter "c" was missing.  This is not a good thing to do when you want people to put trust in the accuracy of your reference book.  The spine is the first thing they see when the book is on the shelf in some library.

They didn't want to throw them all out and redo them so they grabbed the Pogo drawing from I-don't-know-where, cloned a "c" from elsewhere in the name and ran the dust jackets through the press another time to add Pogo and the missing "c."

I wish I'd known that back when I was talking to the lady at the research company.  It would have been fun to point that out to her and she might even have called me fat and stupid…which I would have thought was kind of a reasonable response.

Unless I miss my guess, these three ladies are Renée Elise Goldsberry, Phillipa Soo and Jasmine Cephas Jones, and they played The Schuyler Sisters in the original cast of Hamilton on Broadway. You'll never guess what song they're singing here…

Here's a pretty simple question from "Karl," who didn't sign his last name. Karl wants to know something about Jim Backus, the actor you may remember from Gilligan's Island or from It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World or from voicing Mr. Magoo or from about eighty thousand other things. Here is Karl's question about Jim Backus…

Did you ever meet Jim Backus?

My answer: Kind of, sort of, not for long. It was at a party around 1985, give or take a year. He was a guest, I was a guest, we were introduced. We talked for maybe three minutes before our host, who seemed very proud to have Mr. and Mrs. Jim Backus at his party, spirited Mr. Backus away from me to introduce him to others. Later, Backus more or less "held court" as the focus of attention, telling stories. He was a wonderful storyteller and everyone at the affair was glad to play audience for him.

I don't want to shock anyone or lessen their admiration for the man but I should mention that he during this party, he consumed a fair amount of what I believe is often referred to as "alcohol" — and no, I did not hear him say anything about Old-Fashioneds. As he downed drinks, he became progressively funnier and there was a growing tinge of Quincy Magoo in his voice until he finally began talking as the character. It was kind of a slow Jekyll/Hyde transformation before our eyes.

I had no other opportunity to speak with him before I left the party, partly because I had to be somewhere else and partly because I usually leave parties where too many have imbibed a bit too much. I don't drink that stuff. I have no objections if others do as long as they don't harm others. Alas, I've witnessed too many times when drinkers did harm others — in a few cases, seriously — or at least turned into unpleasant assholes. Jim Backus, at least in my presence, didn't reach that stage and was quite amusing.

There are all sorts of things I would have liked to ask him but that was not possible in the three minutes we chatted…and now that I think of it, it may have been more like two minutes. When we started recording episodes of Garfield and Friends and I was hiring the voice actors, I inquired as to his availability and an agent told me that Mr. Backus was in poor health and wasn't taking such jobs except for…I believe the term the agent used was "an obscene amount of money." We didn't have an obscene amount of money in the budget so Jim Backus went on the list of veteran voice actors I tried to hire and couldn't. Quite a few of them were also in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.

So that's my answer: I kind of met him but not for long. I thought he was one of the great comic actors and that night at that party, one of the funniest men it was ever my privilege to hear tell stories.

And hey, isn't it weird that the family name was Backus? He didn't change it to that and it's almost the name of Bacchus, the Roman god of agriculture, wine, fertility, revelry, and drama. I don't know about the agriculture part of it but based on the anecdotes he told that evening and ones that others have told about him, Jim Backus was sure good at all those other things.

You may have noticed that all the music videos I've posted of someone singing solo-four-part harmony on Billy Joel's "For the Longest Time" were all done by men. Until recently, I'd never come across one with a lady singing it in four-part harmony with herself. Well, now I have. Here's Ashley Suppa singing four-part harmony with herself.

This video runs 35 minutes and I'm recommending it to anyone who is conflicted or baffled or lacking in a basic understanding of what's going on in this country with regards to immigration, legal or otherwise. It's a verbal essay by Adam Ragusea, a podcaster/content creator to whom folks usually look for tips on the best way to cook dinner. Nevertheless, he has a view of The Problem that is sprinkled with hard facts, some of which might make you say, "Hmm…I never thought of it that way."

I know it's long and there's a commercial near the beginning that you'll have to wade through. But he's the first person I've seen discuss this crucial topic in simple, comprehensive and non-hysterical terms. If you can spare the 35 minutes, I think it'll make you think — a lot…

Apparently, the surprise package I received was part of what is called a Brushing Scam. I don't think I did myself any damage but we'll see.

I did not click on or even see any QR code…so if what I'm learning on the 'net is true, the only thing the scammers are doing now is to write fake reviews of products and affix my name. Okay — but couldn't they have done that without sending me a box of crappy stuff? What am I missing here?

So this is weird. Yesterday afternoon, I received a package from an outfit called GoFoExpress containing a set of ear buds and a "smart watch" that looks like it would be overpriced if they paid you to take it. It measures what it says is my heart rate but if my heart is really pumping at the rate it says, I will explode before I finish writing this post. It also gives a current time that is not current anywhere on this planet with no instructions on how to change it and it counts the steps I take. As I was sitting here, not budging from my office chair, it counted 10 steps. So it's about as accurate as Robert F. Kennedy Jr. — maybe a little more so.

But here's the real weird part. The package was addressed to me but I didn't order either of these things. I didn't order anything from GoFoExpress, which I gather is not a company from which you order. You order something from some other company overseas and then that company packs up a big crate of smaller boxes to be delivered to customers in the United States, ships the big crate to GoFoExpress here and they mail each package individually to its intended recipient. At least, I think that's how it works.

Absolutely nothing in or on the package told me what firm thought they were filling an order I'd placed so I located online a phone number for GoFoExpress and called them. After a semi-reasonable length of time, a man came on the line. English was clearly not his first language and maybe not his second, third, fourth, fifth or sixth, and he was probably not located on the same continent as I inhabit. I gave him the tracking number on the mailing label and he looked it up and told me he was sorry my package was late but it would be delivered soon. Just when, he could not say.

I told him it had already been delivered and he made a sound that I think was intended to ask, "Well then, why are you calling?" I explained to him that I hadn't ordered what was in the package. He told me that it had to be a gift from a friend. I told him none of my friends would send me something as crummy as what was in the box. He said something else I could barely understand but I think it was "Well, maybe not a good friend."

I asked him to tell me what company sent this to them to send to me. He told me he did not have that information, could not get that information and there was no way anyone at GoFoExpress could possibly give me that information. And then, of course, he asked, "Is there any other way I can assist you?" That was the end of the call.

I vaguely recall ordering a computer accessory a few months ago from some firm that may not be in this country. I never received it and my credit card was never charged so maybe this is them accidentally sending me the wrong thing. If it isn't that, I have no explanation…and I've decided to stop thinking about this. If my heart rate is even a fourth of what they say it is, I may not have much time left in this world. I wouldn't want to waste any more of it thinking about this stupid package. And by the way, while I've been writing this seated in a chair, I've apparently taken five more steps.

Here's another solo-four-part-harmony version of Billy Joel's "For the Longest Time." This is Zach Timson and since he recorded this during the COVID lockdown, we forgive him for changing the words…

Kamden Spies wants to know…

While I know a lot about comics, I don't know a lot about the magazine distribution end of the industry. Throughout comics history, lots of titles transition from one to another. For example, a title like Wacky Duck at Timely in 1947 ended with issue #7 but its numbering continued as Justice, a crime comic. Moon Girl, A Romance at E.C. became Weird Fantasy. Why are titles of the books changed instead of cancelling them and starting the numbering from scratch? Also did this make a difference to the subscribers of these titles?

Once upon a time, comic books sold a fair amount of their press runs via mail subscriptions. Most charged the same price — $1.20 for twelve issues of a comic that sold for a dime on newsstands — and some of those offers came with a bonus prize of some sort, especially on Dell Comics. Walt Disney's Comics and Stories sold a huge number of copies that way.

Such deals were possible because the post office offered a discount rate for magazines. They called it Second Class Mail but now it's called Periodicals. To qualify for Second Class Mail, comic book publishers had to do certain things…like there was some odd ruling that your publication wasn't a magazine unless it had at least one page of text in it. That's why comics of that era all had one-page text stories in them…and that requirement was later filled with a letters page since it cost less to print letters than to pay someone to write a text story. At times, a comic didn't qualify as a magazine if it was all full of one feature so that was why, for example, the Uncle Scrooge comic book always featured a short story of Gyro Gearloose.

And the publisher had to pay a deposit for each publication that had Second Class mailing privileges. The problem with that was that if you canceled a comic, you'd have to wait a few months for the postal folks to refund your deposit. So some publishers tried to sneak a new magazine in under an old deposit. They'd continued the numbering and claim that, in one of the examples you cite, Justice wasn't a new comic but rather a continuation of Wacky Duck.

(To answer a question someone will ask if I don't say this here: Nowadays, we know that a #1 issue will often sell especially well because some folks will buy extra copies in the expectation that those issues will be more valuable someday. But back then, there was no such speculation and a #1 issue often sold less because if was a first issue. Some retailers were hesitant to give a new comic adequate display on their racks. So continuing the numbering of a canceled comic as a different book also helped get around that obstacle.)

The tale of Moon Girl was even more convoluted than you describe. It started as Moon Girl and the Prince. Then they made the slight change to calling it just Moon Girl. Then they decided that maybe a crime comic would sell better so they renamed it Moon Girl Fights Crime. Then they decided that maybe a love comic would sell better so they dumped Moon Girl completely and called their new love comic A Moon…A Girl…Romance. Each time, they tried to trick the post office into viewing the new book as a modification of an old one so no new deposit was required.

Finally, they decided to drop that one and start a new book called Weird Fantasy but they kept the numbering going in the hope that the post office wouldn't notice. In this case, they did…and a new deposit was required.  Sometimes, they got away with it and sometimes, they didn't.

I don't know how often subscribers complained. I guess it depended on how much they liked or didn't like the new comic they were suddenly receiving. I know when I was a kid, a relative offered to buy me a subscription to any Dell comic. I selected Looney Tunes but due to some processing error, I began receiving Tom & Jerry. I didn't mind much. If they'd sent me issues of Annie Oakley then, I might have minded.

And now, here's Sam Robson singing solo-four-part-harmony on Billy Joel's "For the Longest Time." Or maybe this is eight-part harmony. Or nine.  Or ten…

The second the shooting of those legislators in Minnesota was reported, we had people all over the news and the Internet trying to blame it on whoever they considered the opposition party and its leaders. You'd think they'd wait until at least a little was known about the alleged shooter but I guess they never figure there's time for that. FactCheck.org looks into some of the wilder leaps to false conclusions.

Daniel Dale of CNN lists some of the not-true things Donald Trump said at G7.

And Steve Benen looks at some of Trump's claims to be able to "end all wars" and bring peace to the entire world. Those claims aren't aging well.