The Republicans are finally putting forth a health care bill of their own. According to the non-partisan Congressional Budget Office and Joint Committee on Taxation, it would not do very much to fix any problems. John Boener said it would insure "millions more Americans" and I suppose that's true. It would insure about three million more of the non-elderly. It would insure 0% more of the elderly. It would lower premiums a fraction for some people and not lower them for most. It reduces government spending and therefore the deficit a little, but not as much as the Democratic plan, which would also help most people.
So, bottom line: Republicans do not want to fix health care. Most Americans (including most Republicans) do. So G.O.P. leaders came up with a plan that doesn't change much and they figure they can pass it off as real reform. But I guess they can at least say, "What do you mean we don't have a plan?" Once again, being owned by the health care industry is a pre-existing condition.
Nice obit in the Los Angeles Times for Carl Ballantine, complete with quotes from Steve Martin, Tim Conway and David Copperfield.
The thing about Carl I should emphasize is that he was an entertainer 24/7. He performed on stage and he performed off stage and there really wasn't a lot of difference except as to whether or not props were involved or he was getting paid. Getting paid mattered a lot to Carl but not getting paid never stopped him from being funny.
I wrote here that the first time I saw him perform live was in that production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum with Phil Silvers. Thinking back, it may not have been. The first time may have been one day when I was walking down Hollywood Boulevard — this would have been between 1969 and about 1973 — and he was standing outside the Hollywood Magic Company (a great store up there), heckling passers-by. He was just saying silly things to everyone who walked past him, commenting on their wardrobe or companion or whatever, to amuse a friend he was standing with. The friend was Orson Welles.
Now, you have to understand that Hollywood Boulevard is — and for as long as I've been going there, always has been — a boring, disappointing place. People from Nebraska go there expecting to see movie stars and there are no movie stars, there or anywhere; not in the Clark Gable sense. There are names of movie stars embedded in the sidewalk but they're just there so you can walk over Lana Turner and say, "Hey, there's Lana Turner." Apart from that, not much happens on Hollywood Boulevard that couldn't happen on Main Street in Anytown, U.S.A. Except, every so often, something like that.
I saw them, stopped and just watched the show for about ten minutes. Can't recall a thing Carl said but I recall laughing, partly at the lines and partly at the sight of Orson Welles (not an easy man to overlook) all dressed in black, convulsed in laughter. Everything the Amazing Ballantine said made Mr. Welles laugh…and during the few seconds he wasn't talking, just his attitude was funny. The performance ended when a convertible pulled up in front, Welles hugged Carl goodbye and got into the car. I remember applauding and Carl took a little bow, then walked off. It was the only time in my life that Hollywood Boulevard was ever as magical as you wish a street called Hollywood Boulevard would be.
For the life of me, I can't recall why I didn't follow him in and talk to the man that day…but I was glad I got to know him in later years. I'd see him at the Magic Castle or run into him and his wonderful daughter Sara at Andre's, a great little Italian cafeteria I've been known to frequent. A couple times, I picked Carl up (he wasn't driving) and took him to Musso-Frank's Grill on, yes, Hollywood Boulevard…more or less across the street from Hollywood Magic. I've been known to spin anecdotes over a lunch but, geez, I'm a rank amateur compared to this guy. You'd say "Ed Sullivan" and get five stories. You'd say "Tim Conway" and get ten. If you wanted to be there all day, mention "Milton Berle." The tales were great but the delivery was even better.
My favorite thing Carl ever said to me requires a bit of explanation. We had an actor friend who was trying to impress his father. At a social event, he introduced the father to Carl…and the father was suitably impressed that his kid knew someone like the great Carl Ballantine. Then I wandered up and, well aware of what was going on, began telling the father how proud he must be of his son, the successful actor. I'm sure I laid it on way too thick, telling the father how "in demand" his son was and how well-respected he was in the Hollywood community…but the father bought every word of it. Others did the same thing and when the actor and his father left, Dad was beaming with pride at his offspring.
Right after they'd departed, Carl came up to me, laid his hand on my shoulder and said the words that will live with me forever. He said, "Young man, I have to compliment you. That was the finest example of show business bullshit I've ever heard in my life."
So for a while now, I've been writing, voice-directing and producing this new cartoon series called The Garfield Show. The show debuted some time ago in various foreign countries and fared so well that we're already in production on its second season.
This week, it debuted in America on Cartoon Network. This is a well-kept secret. My TiVo's schedule has no mention of it. The Yahoo TV listings don't mention it. If you search the schedule on the Cartoon Network site, you can find it but that's about it. In most areas, it runs Monday through Friday at 10:30 AM and at 3 PM (the same episode repeats).
This is not a real complaint. I'm sure they'll get it straightened out soon and in the meantime, we have a dandy excuse if the ratings aren't dazzling. But friends are asking me what's up with it and that's about all I know. Here's a clip from an early episode. Frank Welker supplies the voice of the pussycat and Gregg Berger does the voice of Squeak the Mouse. Tune in and try an entire episode…if you can find it.
Are you thinking of going to the Comic-Con International in San Diego next July? Are you thinking of going for all four days? Well then, you'll need a four-day pass. They're still for sale at the convention website.
The last sentence of that paragraph will not be true for long.
One thing that I increasingly believe about elections in this country is that they're all about the "hot button" issues — bank bailouts, health care, gay marriage, etc. — and nothing else. If you ask the average voter, "Do you think the moral integrity of the candidate is important?," they invariably say yes. If you ask them, "Do you think it's important that a candidate be competent and knowledgeable?", they all answer in the affirmative. Absolutely, positively yes. Those two qualities are vital, they'll say.
And then, when it comes time to pick the candidate they'll vote for, they pick whoever says the "right" things about gun control, immigration and the death penalty — and that's about it. The other stuff either gets ignored or assumed…
They ignore the fact that the candidate might not know how to do the job or accomplish the goals. They assume that because he or she says the right things, he or she must be smart enough to make things happen.
They ignore the fact that the candidate might be lacking in honesty and integrity. They assume that because he or she says the right things, he or she must be a pillar of virtue, at least compared to the moral degenerates who have different views.
Maybe this dawned on you a long time ago. But the other day on CNN, I saw someone going on and on about the genius and high ethics of the candidate they're voting for…and all I could think was, "You don't really believe that about him. You just think a vote for him is a vote against Obama."
Here's a clip of Lou Goldstein, who made a helluva career off the simplest of kids' games — Simon Says. I believe he honed his skill working resorts in the Catskills and later took the act all over the world, entertaining at conventions and sporting events and anywhere a crowd turned out. There have been other guys who've done this routine but Lou seems to have made himself into the Tiger Woods of Simon Says, and I hear he's still at it…
That's where I'll be this Saturday…for the comic book section of the Valley Vegas Book Festival. The part we care about takes place at the Clark County Library, located at 1401 E. Flamingo Road. I'll be moderating a Batman panel at 11 AM, participating in a panel on comic book history (ominously entitled, "We Know Where the Bodies Are Buried") at 12:15 PM…and then at 2 PM, I'll be talking, as I do so often, about Jack Kirby. Oh, and I see here on the schedule they just sent me that I'll be signing something — I have no idea what — from 3:15 to 3:45. There are also events that don't involve me so you may find something to your liking, and it's all free and open to the public from 11 AM 'til 4 PM. See some of you there.
Obits and tributes pour in for our friend Shel Dorf — and by "our friend," I mean he was a friend to everyone who ever cared about comic books or strips, whether they knew him or not. The San Diego Union-Tribune has a good obituary and others I know are coming. The Comic-Con website has a particularly meaningful proclamation…
Shel Dorf's love for comic books and their creators had no equal. It was his appreciation of this art form and his keen foresight that helped to create what it Comic-Con.
It is with a heavy heart that we — the Board of Directors, Committee, Staff and Volunteers of Comic-Con — mourn the passing of our dear friend.
And while I was typing the above, I was interrupted by a phone call from the Los Angeles Times, which is prepping an obit and needed info. (It's been a busy day here in the Supplying Obit Info division. I spoke to them this morning about Carl Ballantine.)
Shel's funeral was this afternoon. I had to take my mother to a doctor's appointment so I was unable to get down there for it. If I'd been there, I would have said all the same things everyone else is saying…because they're all true.
It's one of those sad, double-obit days here. The gent above left is Shel Dorf. He is seen, as he so often was, in the company of a great comic creator — in this case, Burne Hogarth, who drew the Tarzan newspaper strip for years. Shel knew every major comic creator and dedicated much of his life to promoting their greatness and saluting their work. That's the first thing you oughta know about Shel; that he was the supreme fan of comics, especially of newspaper comic strips.
The second thing, of course, is that he was a Founder of the entity we now know as the Comic-Con International in San Diego. It was called by other titles during its early years…and one of its nicknames was "DorfCon" because Shel was so much a presence at it. There has been a tendency, which I suspect will continue in the inevitable obituaries, to give him all the credit, like he single-handedly threw the first con and most that followed. That is wrong to the extent that it deprives others of their place in that history. But it is not wrong to say that without Shel, there would have been no San Diego Con by any name.
One place you can read about Shel is a tribute site that was recently erected by several of the folks who deserve kudos for starting that con. I'm sure the site will have much more to say about him in the coming days.
Shel was born in Detroit, Michigan on July 5, 1933. He fell in love with comics at an early age and began his massive scrapbook project, clipping his favorite strips from the newspaper and pasting them into keepsake volumes. The love of comics led him to study art at Cass Technical High School and the Chicago Art Institute, and he made many unsuccessful attempts throughout his career to sell his own strip or to work in the field. The closest he came — and it was, along with the con, the pride of his life — was that Milton Caniff hired him to letter the Steve Canyon strip for the last fourteen years of its existence.
He got that job because he'd become a good friend of Caniff's…close enough that the legendary artist honored Shel by making him into a character. It was a well-meaning football player named "Thud Shelley" who appeared a few times in the Canyon strip. Jack Kirby also made Shel into a character…a father figure named Himon who appeared in Mister Miracle. Shel knew so many great cartoonists that he probably inspired other characters, as well. It seemed just so appropriate for Shel to be a part of comics because comics were so much a part of Shel.
It was his friendship with so many heroes that led him to help put on the Detroit Triple Fan-Fairs in the sixties and then, when he moved to San Diego, to rally fans there to start something similar. I met him in late 1969 or maybe early 1970, shortly before a one-day con that he organized as a kind of "dry run" for the larger convention he hoped to stage. He was enthusiastic. He was optimistic. He was passionate, not just about the convention but about the wonders that could occur just by assembling so many talented creators and fans in the same building. As it turned out, he was right.
Shel was the President and/or Chairman (his titles varied) of the con for many years. There's a long, uncomfortable story of how he came to be estranged from the organization. Many of us witnessed it (and tried to help) but it was one of those problems that just could not be solved, at least to his satisfaction. This isn't the place for a detailed account so I'll just say the following. Shel's zeal helped build the con but at some point, those doing the actual hands-on work of running it began to have problems with him. Fights erupted. The convention became too big, in both a practical and legal sense, to be run the way he wanted to run it. He was offered roles and jobs but none he liked, and he chose instead to stop participating and attending. I thought it was a mistake on his part but it was also his choice to make.
I believe the last Comic-Con he attended was in 2001. Russell Myers, who draws Broom-Hilda, was a Guest of Honor and Shel wanted to see him. (One of the lesser but constant areas of disagreement Shel had with the management of the convention was his feeling that more attention should be paid to newspaper strips.) Shel was having trouble walking, which in that convention hall is no small complication, but he made it in to hear me interview Russell and he asked some good questions from the audience. Later, I found him parked behind a friend's table in the main hall, physically unable to get around and see much of the con he'd founded, saving his strength up for the arduous trek out of the place. Several people had offered to arrange a wheelchair — there were several available, complete with volunteers to push them — but Shel declined. I don't think he wanted to see much more of the convention and he definitely didn't want the convention to see him in a wheelchair.
Soon after that, he became reclusive and eventually housebound. Until the last year or so, we spoke every few months on the phone, not really about anything. Either he'd call me just to chat or he'd send me some small gift — usually a photo or keepsake he thought would interest me about the early days of the con — and I'd phone to thank him. He did insist he was not unhappy that he had severed all ties with the convention or that he had wound up selling off (or donating to universities) his wonderful, extensive collection of comic strips and memorabilia. I couldn't tell if he really felt that way or if he just wanted me to think he really felt that way…so I just decided it was better for both of us if I believed he really felt that way.
The last year or so of his life was spent in a hospital where he was kept technically alive on a bank of machines. This is also not the place for me to rail against that definition of "life" but one of these days, I may write something. I know his family — particularly, his brother Michael who went way beyond the call of sibling duty — meant well, and I wish them no discomfort. But I visited Shel in that hospital right after the con this past year and it was one of the saddest moments I can recall.
The convention is, of course, his legacy but it goes deeper than that. Shel was a big booster of new talent. He wanted very much to be in comics himself and it was almost like he said, "If I can't make it, I'll do everything I can to help everyone else." He encouraged and aided a number of young writers and artists who went on to become major talents, and of course the very existence of that convention has made hundreds, perhaps thousands of careers not only in comics but in allied fields, as well. Those of us who care about comics are forever in his debt.
Another funny man has left us. Carl Ballantine, AKA "The Amazing Ballantine," passed away in his sleep this morning. Sources on the Internet will tell you he was born in 1922 but that's a lie. He was 92 years old.
They'll also tell you his fabled magic act was one of the most hilarious routines ever performed on a stage and they're right about that. Born Meyer Kessler in Chicago, Illinois, Carl started out as a real magician but soon discovered he was better at making audiences laugh than at dazzling them with trickery. So the tricks got deliberately lousier and he got more and more successful. He is said to have been the first performer ever to play Las Vegas with anything resembling a magic act.
It brought him fame, fortune and much acting work. He was one of those guys who worked, if not all the time, then as often as liked. He was best known for his role as Gruber on the TV series, McHale's Navy, and he logged hundreds of guest shots on television, in the movies and on stage. The first time I saw him perform live was in the 1971 revival (in Los Angeles, Chicago and on Broadway) of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum in which he played Marcus Lycus opposite the star, Phil Silvers. I can't recall ever seeing two funnier men on a stage together.
Carl did hundreds of commercials, including a memorable one for California Raisins in which he supplied the voice for a Claymation™ character that looked like…Carl Ballantine. He also did cartoon shows, one of which was Garfield & Friends, where he had a recurring role on as a con-artist character named Mr. Swindler.
Funny story how I cast him in that. I wanted to have a Bilko-type villain who'd pop up from time to time and I cast another veteran comic actor to do the voice in what would have been the first episode to feature the guy. As it turned out, the actor was — to put it as nicely as I can — too old. He just didn't "have it" anymore and while the recording session turned out okay, it was obvious I couldn't keep bringing that actor back as that character. Right after he left the studio, I decided to create another con-man character and find the right performer to supply his voice. I was wondering who to get when I walked out into the waiting room at the recording studio…
…and there, waiting to record a McDonald's radio spot for someone else, was Carl "The Amazing" Ballantine.
I hired him on the spot, then ran home and wrote the episode that introduced Mr. Swindler. It was a joy because I knew Carl could and would make any silly thing I wrote sound good. Even better, I got to hang out with him, have lunch, join his table up at the Magic Castle and just enjoy the ongoing show that was Carl. He'd worked with everyone. He knew everyone. And everything he said was funny…everything. I'll probably post more about him over the next few days.
I wish I could link to a good video of Carl's magic act but the best one online isn't all that good. Still, maybe this will give you a tiny idea of the wonders of The Amazing Ballantine. All of us who knew the man are already missing him. Our condolences to his lovely daughter Sara, and our thanks for letting us play with him…
And here we have the full (not the truncated) theme song from The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. They recently did a new visual for it…shots of Mr. Ferguson roaming around my neighborhood. The little gas station where you see him playing drums is a tableau over at the Farmers Market at 3rd and Fairfax, right next to CBS.
The Old Globe Theater in San Diego has announced what will be filling its stage for the next year or so. Almost every year, it includes one new musical that is being developed for eventual Broadway status…and this time, it's Robin and the 7 Hoods, based on the 1964 Rat Pack movie. Casey Nicholaw, who directed The Drowsy Chaperone and choreographed Spamalot will direct. Rupert Holmes is writing the book and the songs will be some of those penned by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen for the movie, plus other Cahn-Van Heusen tunes from other venues.
This strikes me as a very good, promising venture. It'll be there July 14 through August 22 next year and I may make time in or around my busy Comic-Con schedule to go see it. The Comic-Con is July 22-25.
Absent from the Old Globe schedule — and everywhere else, insofar as I can tell — is the long-heralded musical version of The Nutty Professor, to be directed by Jerry Lewis. It was/is to have a book and lyrics by the aforementioned Mr. Holmes and music by Marvin Hamlisch, and not long ago, Jerry was telling reporters it would debut at the Old Globe, then go directly to Broadway without passing Go or collecting $200. If it's happening, it ain't happening there.
Also: A Broadway revival of the Neil Simon play Brighton Beach Memoirs — though well-reviewed — closed in one week. A companion play by Simon, Broadway Bound, was to have debuted later and played in repertory but of course, that's off, as well. James C. Taylor of the L.A. Times explains what he thinks caused this and it sure sounds like he's right. It's been a while since Mr. Simon had a hit on Broadway without someone like Nathan Lane to draw in the masses. Presumably, the forthcoming revival of Promises, Promises has a stellar-enough cast to give it a fighting chance.
