When it was announced that Paul Levitz is stepping down or aside or wherever he's stepping from the high command of DC Comics, I explained why the change was potentially bad for the folks who write and draw comics. Now, prominent retailer Brian Hibbs is along to explain why it's potentially bad for those who sell them.

Welcome to the sixth and last chapter of my ongoing account of how I helped introduce the character of Scrappy Doo into Saturday morning TV and animation history. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this but, well, a lot of things seemed more important. Like sleeping once in a while.

You have two choices. You can read Part Six below or you can go over to this section of the website where I've reproduced all six parts in sequence. Take your pick. If you want to stay right here, Part Six starts now…

There finally came a day when no more revisions could be done to my script, the one that introduced Scrappy Doo. The show was behind schedule and production had to accelerate or they wouldn't make air dates. (That was not an unusual situation, by the way. During my days at Hanna-Barbera — and I gather this was constant — every show was always behind schedule. If a producer or story editor might verge on getting ahead of schedule, Bill Hanna would immediately adjust the schedule to put them behind. There was an ongoing fear that if a show wasn't behind schedule, someone might not work as rapidly as possible.)

Busy with other projects, I only wrote one other episode of Scooby Doo that season — it was called "Demon of the Dugout" and was about a ghost baseball player. Others wrote the other eleven episodes that were produced and the animation was farmed out to a subcontractor who did, in everyone's opinion, a less than inspired job. Years later, when the vast Scooby Doo library was programmed on Cartoon Network, execs would decide to omit for a time, the seasons with poorer animation. The first season with Scrappy was one of those. The theory was that kids would eventually tire of seeing the same episodes over and over…so when the poorly animated shows were finally reintroduced into the mix, audiences would be more forgiving of the poor production values.

I'm not sure that's logical. Scooby never, even in his best years, had very good animation. The appeal of the show was always, I thought, in the easy-to-watch energy of the characters, especially Scooby and Shaggy, and also in a certain cumulative effect. I don't think you could ever be much of a fan of Scooby Doo if you watch the occasional episode. No one episode is particularly memorable and some of them are quite silly and contrived, even by Scooby Doo standards. But watch enough of them and…I dunno. Maybe it's your senses atrophying. Maybe the characters become so much a part of your family that you'll forgive them anything. All I know is a lot of people really love Scooby…

…but not, these days, his nephew Scrappy. I'll get to that in a moment.

Scrappy did exactly what he was supposed to do: He got Scooby Doo renewed for another season. I don't think he was a good addition to the format and the fact that he could talk, while his Uncle Scooby sorta couldn't, tore the already-frail "reality," to use that word in the loosest-possible manner. Then again, the underlying premise of "there's no such thing as ghosts" was shredded somewhat during the seasons that the show had guest stars and so Scooby was teaming up with Speed Buggy (a talking car) and Jeannie (a genie). Later, of course, they gave up altogether on the notion that the supernatural did not exist and had Scooby and Shaggy chased by real werewolves and mummies and space aliens.

In his second season, Scrappy got a new voice. Here's how that happened.

You may recall that H-B went through half the Screen Actors Guild before they settled on Lennie Weinrib as his voice. Lennie was a brilliant, talented performer and a good friend of mine. I just loved the guy…but I have to admit he could be difficult to work with. Around the time he was voicing Scrappy Doo, he became very difficult. Some things occurred in his personal life that upset him greatly and while he always tried to conduct himself as a professional, he didn't — by his own later admission — succeed. In particular, he wasn't getting along with Gordon Hunt, who was then directing the voice sessions for Hanna-Barbera.

Gordon was (and still is) an absolute pro. A lot of what I know about how to direct actors and work with them, I learned by watching Gordon in action. One of the few actors he couldn't handle — maybe the only one — was Lennie. When it came time to start production on Scrappy's second season, Lennie informed H-B that he wouldn't or maybe couldn't play Scrappy for another year if it meant working with Gordon. Not unless they gave him a lot more money.

Bill Hanna was a giant in the world of animation and a very good man in many respects. He had, however, this fierce allergy to paying anyone a lot more money. He wasn't even that comfortable with paying someone a little more money. He decided that the solution was to bring in a new voice director…someone who could get along with Lennie. He called Lennie and asked him who he'd like in that position. Lennie suggested me.

Before the afternoon was out, I was in Mr. Hanna's office being offered the job. I said, "Sure, if I'm not stepping on Gordon Hunt's toes." Mr. Hanna assured me Gordon would be thrilled to have me take over that one show. I went down to Gordon's office and asked him. He confirmed what Mr. Hanna said. When I got home, Lennie called and thanked me for taking the job. Everyone was happy…for about the next eighteen hours.

The very next day, Hanna realized that (a) they would have to pay me and (b) they couldn't deduct that amount from Gordon Hunt's weekly salary as the studio's Voice Director. And then Lennie's agent called up and said, "We're delighted that you're getting Lennie a director he can work with. But you know, he still wants a lot more money." And that was how Don Messick — who'd been the voice of Scrappy in the first place until they decided he wasn't right, you may recall — became Scrappy again.

Losing the gig was another blow to Lennie, though far from the biggest. Larger problems persisted in his life and a few years later, he decided he needed to change that life. He sold his jade green Rolls Royce and his mansion in Hancock Park and spent the rest of his life in peace and love with a newly-started family in Chile. That's right: Chile. He used to phone me at least once a week to chat and tell jokes, and he was obviously very happy there. He passed away in 2006.

Most of his last few years, he spent on the Internet, which he loved. Once in a while though, he'd Google his name and that would lead him to some website or message board where he'd read the rantings of some Scrappy-Loather. He'd send me links and I'd follow them to read how Scrappy had "ruined" the Scooby Doo series. I never quite understood the sentiment being voiced so long after Scrappy had done this alleged damage, and coming — as it often seemed — from people who weren't that wild about the show before Scooby's little nephew joined the team. Others seem to view the pre-Scrappy series as animation that compared favorably with Fantasia…but suddenly when this one character was added, it abruptly turned into a Saturday morning cartoon show.

I don't know why some people hate him so. I don't see that the show was any better the season before…and as I've explained here, his presence got the network to order another season. My read is that the folks who don't like Scrappy are few in number but loud in voice. When I watch one of those 1979 episodes, I can't possibly dislike Scrappy…because he makes me think of Lennie.

This is probably all I remember about the birthing of Scrappy Doo. I did not create him, as some report. He did not destroy the show, as others claim. He was born during a time at that studio when characters were treated a bit too much as a commodity and in that context, he served his purpose. And every now and then, I come across someone — usually someone a lot younger than I am — who absolutely loves Scrappy to pieces. That's great. I don't share the sentiment but I'm glad to have had a hand in giving those folks something they like.

The Village Voice article by screenwriter Josh Olson (the one we talked about here) has drawn a lot of Internet chatter. Over on Facebook, my pal Tom Luth asked…

So, I am sure we all know by now that professional writers will not read our effin' scripts. That begs the question, "what is the proper way to receive professional, usable, feedback?" Has this been covered on your blog at some point?

No…and there's a sense in which you shouldn't. I mean, if you're writing 500-page scripts in Pig Latin that will cost a half-billion dollars to film, it might be handy to have a pro tell you, "Don't do that." But that's the kind of thing you oughta be able to figure out for yourself — and if you can't, then you're so far from reality that no experienced help is going to do you a lot of good.

Beyond that kind of thing, it gets very subjective. Have you ever seen a really lousy movie? One that was so bad that you know the script just had to suck from Day One? Well, at least a couple of important professionals thought that script was good enough to film. If you could get one of those guys to read your script, of what value would his opinion be to you? If he told you it was wonderful, wouldn't you think, "Gee, that's what you thought about that turkey you made"? What I'm getting at it is that even advice from a seasoned pro is just one guy's opinion. Some great scripts were turned down by one guy. Some bad ones were bought by one guy.

I think the best way to look at this is that there are two categories of advice. One is the simple matter of how good the writing is. Do the characters make sense? Are the emotions true? Does the story establish its own logic and progress in accord with that logic? It might be very valuable to get input and feedback about those kinds of things but you don't have to ask a professional screenwriter for that. You can get it from any kind of decent writing teacher or even a friend who seems to have some brains and taste. In some ways, you might even profit more from hearing the response of someone who's not inclined to say, "Well, here's how I would have written this…"

Most of the time though when folks ask a professional writer to read their work, what they're seeking is marketing advice: How do I sell this thing? Or how do I get an agent who will sell this thing? That's a much tougher question to answer…and it's usually asked with the implied subtext, "Will you recommend me to someone who might hire me or represent me?" One of the things that I'm sure Josh was objecting to in that article he wrote is being put in that position.

I will give everyone one bit of advice in that area, though…and you have to keep in mind that there are exceptions to every "rule." But most of the time, an aspiring writer of film or television can greatly enhance their chance of success in those fields by writing other things first — short stories, porn novels, comic books, plays for community theater, student films, etc. A kid who wants to play baseball doesn't usually start by pitching for the Yankees. Writing for the screen is a highly competitive field where millions of dollars often ride on the strength of a project…and the project rides on the strength of a script. It's not the ideal arena in which to be learning the basics of how to craft dialogue and story structure. At the very least, you could start on some lower rung of the TV or movie business.

That's a bit of creative advice but it's also a matter of marketing, as well. Yeah, there may be a plumber out there who has a wonderful screenplay in him…but folks in the business regard those as the rare flukes. They think good writing is more likely to emanate from a good writer, and they respect those who've demonstrated an ability to write things that please an audience.

The last decade or so, I've heard a lot of acting coaches and casting folks bemoan the influx of people who want to be Stars, as opposed to being Actors — kids who don't want to waste their time in acting classes or doing plays for no money in 99-seat theaters. They want to start with the Rich and Famous part. Every so often, someone manages it and when that's publicized, it brings a new wave of wanna-bees who think they can get a series without learning the craft or paying dues…and like I said, once in a while, they can. But if you're marketing yourself as an actor, I think it's disadvantageous to show so little interest in actually acting. And the pool cleaner who wants to start his writing career by selling Bob DeNiro his next project is kind of in the same light.

My second agent used to refer to them as "Lottery Screenwriters." He felt they weren't interested in being writers…because if they were, they'd be writing something that has a better chance to getting bought and either produced or published. They were just writing spec screenplays for the same reason gas station attendants buy lottery tickets. It's to take that one-in-a-zillion chance of hitting big and changing one's life overnight.

When professional writers say, "I won't read your effin' script," part of that is because it creates a number of personal-type problems. It takes time and it takes us away from our own stories and fills our heads with someone else's story and creates problems of how to be tactful and/or risk getting someone mad at you…and of course, there's always the concern that some day, completely on your own, you'll write something vaguely similar and the person whose script you read will think they've been ripped-off. All of that is reason enough not to read someone else's work.

But another is that most people never really do anything with the scripts they ask you to read. Many do not even rewrite based on any story input you might give them. What they want to hear is, "This is great, I'm sure you can sell it." Or better still, "This is great, I'll help you sell it." The last guy who asked me to read a spec animation script of his was clearly looking for a magic trick like, "Don't change a word of this masterpiece…but you know, if you put a blue cover on the script, you're guaranteed to sell it." Helping those folks is a colossal waste of your life.

That's all I have time to write about this now because I have to leave for a lunch appointment with…Josh Olson, of all people. I'm taking along about ninety scripts I'd like him to read. I'm sure he'll be so eager.

For the record, The Colbert Report ended at 11:37:30. What I've decided to do until they stop doing this is to set my TiVo to record the 6:30 AM broadcast. This is not a huge hardship as hardships go. I just don't understand why they do this.

This show airs several times a day and the other airings, insofar as I can tell, all start and end on time. But for the last few weeks, this airing has run from around 11:07 or 11:08 until 11:37. Is the idea to discourage us from setting our TiVos to record Letterman at 11:35?

Okay, The Colbert Report started at 11:07. Why are they doing this and screwing up everyone who's trying to record this show on a VCR or DVR?

I mentioned this before and didn't get a lot of response to it…but I can't be the only person who has this problem.

It's a few minutes after 11 PM. I just tuned in to Comedy Central where The Colbert Report is supposed to have just started. The schedule says it's on from 11:00 to 11:30. My TiVo, if I tell it to record this airing of The Colbert Report, records from 11:00 to 11:30. But at this moment, The Daily Show is still going on. Jon Stewart is still interviewing Ricky Gervais. The Colbert Report won't be starting 'til around 11:08, which means it'll end around 11:38. More on this in a few minutes.

Henry Gibson, by the way, was active on Twitter. He also had a weblog which has but two entries on it.

Gary Owens tells me that no memorial service has yet been announced.

That's me at a party just a few months ago, posing with a lovely man named Henry Gibson. I am not quite as large as I seem in this photo. Henry was a very small man (but only physically) and every time I saw him, he seemed to get smaller. Had the shrinking not been due to age and illness, it would have just made him cuter. As it was, he was already a wonderful plaything.

Back when the original Laugh-In was on, I used to go over to NBC, sneak in and watch them tape. Henry was an unflappable pro who was always good, take after take, and you could tell he was much loved by the crew and his fellow cast members. Years later, there was a period in his acting career when he always seemed to be cast as a Nazi or a White Supremacist, and it really was a case of casting against type…because he was the nicest man you could ever want to meet.

In the eighties, I developed a cartoon series for Disney called The Wuzzles (based on a line of toys) and I had to figure out what to do with all these characters. There was one named Eleroo who was half-elephant, half-kangaroo, and since some of the other Wuzzles would be kinda obnoxious, I decided to just make Eleroo the sweetest, most likable character I could. I probably didn't give it a lot of thought — not that I ever give anything a lot of thought — but when I wrote the character breakdown for Eleroo, I wrote, "Let's get someone like Henry Gibson to do his voice. Better still, let's get Henry Gibson."

They got Henry Gibson and he was just a joy. He was such a good actor, crawling into every nuance of every line, wringing every possible drop of personality out of it and adding plenty of his own. Eleroo instantly became the most beloved Wuzzle of all those working on the show, and a script I wrote to spotlight him — it was called "Eleroo's Wishday" — was easily my favorite episode. Because of Henry.

No one disliked the man…or if you did, there was something wrong with you. The above photo was taken when he was telling me about an autobiography he was writing, asking me to jot down some thoughts about that show and mail them to him. I did…and got back a charming, unnecessary "thank you" note. I sure hope he finished the book and that it gets published because I'd like to spend a little more time with Henry Gibson. Here's a link to an obituary. He was 73 and the cause of death, yet again, was cancer.

The Kaiser Family Foundation, which does non-partisan analysis of health care in this country, has a report out on rising costs. Quick summary: The cost of health care is rising a lot faster than the average person's income. But you already knew that.

If the cost of health care continues to rise as fast as it has over the past five years, by 2019, your average American family will be paying $24,180 per year for their policy. If rates continue to rise as rapidly as they have over the past five years, you're looking at $30,803. The current number is $13,375.

So the best case scenario, if nothing's done to change the scenario, is an increase of close to 100% and it could be worse than that. Odds are most family incomes are not going to double in the next ten years.

When folks who resist change say, "I'm afraid that under a new plan, I won't be able to keep my present doctor," Democrats oughta tell them, "Under the old plan, you may not be able to keep your present doctor." You may not be able to keep any doctor…but obviously, even if you do have insurance, a lot of things are going to be different. Benefits are going to be cut. Allowable fees to doctors will be lowered. Many employers will stop offering insurance to their workers and many that continue to make it available will switch to cheaper companies or plans.

Something's gotta give.

Whoever makes up the schedules over at Turner Classic Movies is usually pretty good at "flow." That's what TV programmers call the art of sequencing what they air so that one show leads into another and is likely to retain some of the same audience. But every so often, you kinda wonder what (if anything) they had in mind. Friday night and early Saturday morning, we have the following list of films on TCM…

• Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! — A Russ Meyer film with tough women running around on a crime spree.
• Mudhoney — Another Russ Meyer film with rotten people doing rotten things to each other.
• Sons of the Desert — arguably, the best feature with Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy
• The Outlaws is Coming — not the best feature with the Three Stooges but it does have Adam West in it as the romantic/heroic lead.

…and those are followed by a couple of chapters from a Dick Tracy serial. Go ahead. Explain to me about the flow here.

While we're talking TCM: Sunday morning, they're running A Thousand Clowns, which is one of those great movies that isn't currently out on DVD. And then Monday afternoon/evening, they're airing — in this order — two great Buster Keaton films (Sherlock, Jr. and Steamboat Bill, Jr.), On the Waterfront, then two great Stanley Kubrick films (Dr. Strangelove and 2001: A Space Odyssey). Some real good films there…some good reasons to set the TiVo.