The Wedding Singer

Back when there was a lot more hollering about Gay Marriage than there's been lately, some comic fans tried to rustle up a boycott of the Manchester Grand Hyatt Hotel in San Diego by attendees of the Comic-Con down there. As I explained here, I'm all for letting consenting adults marry or just hang out with the consenting adults of their choice, regardless of race or gender, but I'm not big on boycotts. I don't think they usually accomplish much of anything except maybe to make the boycotters feel like they're doing something.

Lately, I'm getting e-mails saying I should stop shopping Whole Foods Market because of an op-ed against "Obamacare" in The Wall Street Journal by the CEO of that chain. (And by the way, I think it would do us all a world of good if more of the health care situation was debated by folks who can't afford to buy the Mayo Clinic.)

I'd been thinking of curtailing my Whole Food purchases before that because, frankly, I'm tired of paying double the prices at Gelson's for meat that's not any better and maybe a little worse. I also keep getting produce and prepared meals at Whole Foods that taste they like were prepared by one of those experts who "styles" food for advertising photos, painting fake gloss on the Fuji apples and daubing the bananas with Turtle Wax. But I won't be taking my biz elsewhere because of Mr. Whole Foods' opinion piece…and I doubt that many other folks will, no matter how much he offends them. In times of anger, people in this country may swear they're not going to patronize a certain business or buy a certain product…but if it's what they want or it's cheaper or it's closer, that's what and where they buy.

Getting back to the Manchester Grand Hyatt, where again I stayed this last Comic-Con — and was treated quite nicely, by the way — the threatened boycott in '08 was because its CEO, Doug Manchester, was donating large sums to ban Gay Marriage. He said that he felt it was his duty as a Catholic…and of course, he's right that the Catholic church frowns on that kind of thing.

Of course, as this article notes, the Catholic church also frowns on divorce and that isn't stopping Mr. Manchester from leaving his wife of 43 years. They're currently in the midst of one of those messy millionaires' severances where both sides fight over six and seven figure properties and holdings, with much soiled laundry hung to flap in the breeze.

I don't think this is funny or a reason to gloat or anything of the sort. It's sad when a marriage goes sour and people suffer…just as it's sad when two people who love each other are denied the right and dignity to have their union respected. I just have to point out that "my duty as a Catholic" sometimes, like threats of boycotts, only goes as far as is convenient. And while we're at it, let's remember that despite the Neanderthal talking points, Gay Marriage is not what's threatening Heterosexual Marriage. I dunno what broke up the Manchester marriage but I don't think it was same-sex wedlock…unless Mrs. Manchester was furious at her hubby for spending their money to push Proposition 8.

By the way, I think I mentioned it here before but I'm curious what the divorce rate will turn out to be like for Gay Marriage. Will it be the higher, lower or the same as for mixed couples? For your information, the divorce rate in this country for straight marriages is between 41 and 50% for first marriages, 60 to 67% for second marriages and over 73% for third marriages. And that's just Larry King.

Today's Video Link

B.B. King visits Sesame Street and sings about his favorite letter…

Your Big Chance

You know what's missing from comic books these days? Letter columns. In my day (read this sentence in the voice of Dana Carvey's Grumpy Old Man, who I think was him imitating Lionel Barrymore), comics had letter columns and readers would write in and either point out errors or ask questions or critique the previous issue. And then the editor (or someone impersonating the editor) would reply…and it made for a nice interaction. Julius Schwartz's in his DC books were especially good, while over at Marvel, the ones composed by Stan Lee (or sometimes, "Stan Lee") were as much a part of some books' appeal as the stories, themselves.

That all started to go away in the seventies. For a while, we had letter columns but it wasn't the editor who handled them. It was some kid in the office…some assistant to the assistant or something. In a few books, it was even me. That wasn't as much fun as engaging in a dialogue with the actual editor or even someone pretending to be him. Then at some point, comics just stopped having letter columns at all. Groo the Wanderer, which I work on, was one of the last holdouts. We had a letters page long after most comics didn't bother.

I used to jest that this was because we truly cared about our readers, whereas other comics didn't. That caused an editor at one of the companies to get real, real angry at me…though apparently not angry enough that he decided to prove me wrong and add letter pages to his comics. That, he did not do. Soon after, I stopped doing the joke not because I feared him but because when Groo shifted from monthly publication to the intermittent mini-series format, I stopped receiving a steady flow of letters. I suppose I could have made some up. A lot of letter pages used to do that…more than you'd imagine. But I have integrity I haven't even used yet.

Well, I've decided it's high time to get back into the letter column business. We have a new Groo mini-series starting and I'm cobbling up a letters page for it. Wanna see your name and letter in Groo? Send both of those things to letters@groothewanderer.com. I'll repeat that address for those of you who are slow of mind: letters@groothewanderer.com. It pays nothing and if you heckle us, we heckle you back…and we have home court advantage so watch it.

The Write Stuff

A recurring, too-occasional theme on this blog is how writers can protect themselves from getting swindled, burgled, fleeced, taken, exploited, cheated and generally ripped-off. It's a big problem and it requires a lot of policing and advising and warning. In 1998, the Science Fiction Writers of America set up Writer Beware, a website intended to help educate writers — new ones, especially — to some of the pernicious practices that may be employed to get them to pay to have their writing published (instead of the other way around) or at least to not be paid when their writing is published.

Thanks to the efforts of author Lee Goldberg, who is probably too busy trotting 'round the globe to writers' conferences to have lunch with his ol' pal Mark, the Mystery Writers of America group has joined the battle, throwing support behind Writer Beware. Good for all of them.

Remember: The way this is supposed to work is that you write it and they pay you to publish it. You do not pay to have it published. You do not pay to have it agented or critiqued or submitted or anything of the sort. They pay you and they pay you on an agreed-upon amount on an agreed-upon schedule and in real money. No matter how badly you want to see your work in print.

Today's Audio Link

My favorite performers in the history of mankind are, as we all know, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. I've seen all their movies eighty quadrillion-zillion times…but did you know they almost got into radio? In 1944, they did a pilot for what was intended as a weekly series called The Laurel and Hardy Show.

It was performed and transcribed at NBC Studios on March 6 of that year but apparently never broadcast. The way it generally worked in radio was that a show would be done that way and then someone would take the disks around to advertising agencies and potential sponsors and if one was willing to buy, the program went onto the air. The Laurel and Hardy Show never did, presumably because a sponsor could not be found.

The premise of the show was that each week, The Boys would get a new job…and by the end of the half-hour, they would have botched things up and become unemployed again. The pilot episode was titled, "Mr. Slater's Poultry Market" and at the end of it, it's teased that next week, they'll be getting into the plumbing business. But of course, there was no next week.

The script is not wonderful…but this was '44 when Stan and Ollie were doing not-wonderful scripts for MGM and Fox, resulting in movies that were similarly not wonderful. As with the films, the radio script makes them somewhat stupider than they were in their best pictures and there's a lot of over-reacting to plot contrivances. Still, it's a shame their radio show didn't sell. Both men could have used the additional income…and maybe stardom there would have given them a little more clout in dealing with MGM and Fox. Alas, here's all that resulted from the endeavor…

Recommended Reading

Here's a follow-up to yesterday's blog post by Steve Benen about the crazies in our political discourse. And in there are more opinions from Bruce Bartlett about the situation.

Sammy Petrillo, R.I.P.

I didn't know the guy but I wanted to note the passing of famed Jerry Lewis impersonator Sammy Petrillo, who died yesterday at the age of 75. As a kid, back when Lewis was teamed with Dean Martin, Petrillo so resembled Jerry that his first real job in show business was playing Jerry's baby son on the Colgate Comedy Hour. Thereafter, Lewis had Petrillo signed for a time to a personal contract that some have claimed was just to keep the look-alike off the market.

Eventually, Petrillo broke free of Jerry and went off with a succession of different partners, most of whom could mimic Dino. The main one was Duke Mitchell and in 1952, Mitchell and Petrillo replicated Dean and Jerry when they starred in a cinema classic…Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla. It was kind of the low point in Mr. Lugosi's career and the high point in Mr. Petrillo's.

A few years after that, the Mitchell-Petrillo team split up. They claimed their club act wasn't getting bookings because proprietors were afraid of pissing off Jerry. In any case, Sammy drifted through an array of small parts in small films…and I really don't know what else he did. I don't know if anyone does. We only know he looked and sounded amazingly like Jerry Lewis in this film…

Sunday Afternoon

Carolyn was just sent a link to a site that features photos of live rats playing tiny musical instruments. How could I not post such a thing?

Recommended Reading

As we watch the crazies out there turning town hall meetings into The Jerry Springer Show, we might note that nutcases are not a new species. Rick Perlstein reminds us that we've always had them around. My favorite paranoid delusion, I think, is that the President (whoever he is at the moment) has a secret plan to declare Martial Law in the country, seize absolute power, suspend elections and stay in office forever.

Will the Real Jerry Lewis Stand Up?

Jerry Lewis and Bernadette Peters.  In some show sometime.
Jerry Lewis and Bernadette Peters. In some show sometime.

A company called Infinity Entertainment has announced and Amazon is taking advance orders for a DVD set of The Jerry Lewis Show…but don't click on this Amazon link yet. My question is: Which Jerry Lewis Show? There have been many…

  • There was The Jerry Lewis Show we recently discussed here…the two-hour live talk/variety show that debuted on ABC in 1963 with enormous fanfare only to disappear thirteen weeks later.
  • There was The Jerry Lewis Show, a one-hour weekly variety series on NBC from 1965-1967.
  • There was The Jerry Lewis Show, a syndicated one-week "pilot" talk show in 1984 that did not turn into a regular series.

There were also a number of pre-1963 specials called The Jerry Lewis Show and this set could be a collection of them.

So which is it? The announcements and Amazon page don't say and if there's a webpage for Infinity Entertainment, it's doing a good job of hiding from Google. We see that this the set is supposed to have a running time of 780 minutes so that would seem to eliminate the '84 talk show. It only ran one week of one-hour shows. The various specials Lewis did in the fifties would also probably not total 780 minutes.

There are two problems with it being the two-hour 1963 show. One is that Jerry reportedly wanted that buried forever and I think he controls the rights. The other is that 780 minutes is not divisible by 120 minutes.

That would lead us to suspect that the set contains a half season of the '65 variety show…and it may. Or it may also be a conglomeration of different Jerry Lewis appearances all being packaged together under the title. Or maybe the thing isn't actually 780 minutes or maybe it's one of those products that gets listed on Amazon but never actually comes out. It's also worth noting that a couple of sites that are taking orders for this DVD list Jerry Lee Lewis as its star. So maybe this is all a DVD of The Jerry Lee Lewis Show and someone left out a Lee.

I've exhausted my sleuthing abilities here. If someone gets some info on what this set is actually all about, lemme know.

Today's Video Link

How about a good Yiddish folk song as performed by two great song-and-dance men of the Yiddish Theater? Here are Mike Burstyn and the late Bruce Adler (Adler's the one on the left) with "Rumania, Rumania." Years ago in an aberration of my life known as Hebrew School, I actually knew most of what this song was about…

VIDEO MISSING

Life Could Be a Dream…

Every so often, someone writes to ask me what web hosting service I use for this weblog and the other sites I maintain…and they also want to know how happy I am with them. As you can see in the margin over on the right, it's Dreamhost. How happy am I with them? Well, I've been there since October of '98 and have never thought of going elsewhere. What does that tell you?

There are occasional outages and tech problems but that's true of any web hosting company. Every problem I've had at Dreamhost has been fixed promptly and with a real sense of someone on the other end who was trying to help. I can't imagine what any other outfit could offer that would wrest me away from where I am now. Maybe service that was just as good plus Creamy Tomato Soup.

I even make a few bucks through my web hoster. If you sign up with them by clicking through one of my Dreamhost banners, I get a tiny cut. So here's another one of those banners…

WGA News

Writers Guild elections tend to be messy and argumentative and there are times when we seem more interested in clobbering each other than in besting those we should be uniting against. I have a certain respect for anyone who wades into WGA politics just for the sheer selflessness it requires. No matter how reasonable or moderate you are, there will be times when you're a Democratic Congressman addressing a town hall full of Glenn Beck fans.

It's campaigning time for the next election and it comes down to one slate versus another. One has Elias Davis as its presidential candidate; the other has John Wells. Both men have long histories of Guild service and anyone who tells you that either would destroy the WGA is engaged in hysterical hyperbole.

Davis and his cabinet have been endorsed by Larry Gelbart in a much-circulated open letter. I respect the hell out of Mr. Gelbart as a writer and as an advocate for writers, and I'm also backing the Elias crew. I do think though John Wells scores some solid points in his rebuttal to it.

For what, as they say, it's worth: I think it's true, as Larry says, that the years John Wells was our president were years when the guild was too timid and should have been more militant. What I'm less sure about is how much of that was John and how much of it was the mood of the membership at that time. There's only so much any leader can do to drag unwilling, bickering combatants into battle. I'm pretty much a hawk on Guild negotiations but I'm not willing to write off the view that there are times when we just aren't "together" enough to go that route, and it's better to get what we can get via non-confrontational discussions. In that context, John Wells just might be an ideal Chief Exec.

But I also think that an approach of that kind can only serve us in the short run and in times of weakness. Moreover, being non-confrontational almost always leads to the kind of rotten offers that sooner or later make confrontation mandatory. In a very real sense, every time the WGA has found itself in a position where a strike was necessary, it was necessary because Management thought it could exploit a perceived unwillingness to strike…so strike we must. Or at least, we have to make it clear that we will walk if they try to force a package of rollbacks and bad terms on us.

The last negotiation was one such period of necessity. We'd been too accepting and we paid for it. We had to go on strike to prove we wouldn't roll over and take what was truly a dreadful offer. Striking or acceptance were the only two options open to us and striking was the lesser evil.

Fortunately, through the wisdom and courage of our wartime prez Patric Verrone and his administration, the WGA got its act together…and I thought they handled a bad situation about as well as humanly possible. Given the spectacular collapse of the Screen Actors Guild in its subsequent negotiation, and given that the studios have obviously not abandoned their wish-dream of keeping all the revenues from New Media and not sharing, it would be insane for us to to forsake the momentum we've established. The best guy to keep that up and running is Elias Davis.

One other point. If you read the above links or other discussions of WGA politics on the 'net, you will do yourself a favor to remember the following. Ignore (do not even read) messages that are not signed by someone who at least appears to have signed a real name. Folks who sign themselves "Working Writer" may be unemployed gardeners. Six people in a row hiding behind pen names may all be the same person agreeing with himself. An anonymous person who claims to be working on a hit TV series may be working at Baja Fresh. It's not so much that they're lying but to get a sense of the "electorate" by reading those messages is like trying to gauge the mood of America from the people who phone in to Talk Radio. They're not the most representative. They're just the angriest.

Recommended Reading

Take a gander at this blog post by Steve Benen — an exchange he had with Bruce Bartlett, who was one of the main economic advisers to Presidents Reagan and Bush (the first Bush).

Among the many things that bothered me about the Bush-Cheney regime was its almost childish insistence in its own infallibility. I was and still am baffled by Conservative friends who found it an admirable character trait to refuse to admit error, even while abandoning Plan A for Plan B. I understand as a political strategy why Dick Cheney might think it wise to sell that image, even though obviously very little that administration did went the way they wanted it to. I just don't get why some people think that's commendable.

My Son, the Litigious Parody Writer

Okay, here's the Allan Sherman story I teased a week or so ago here. This took place in 1965. I was 13 years old and attending Ralph Waldo Emerson Junior High School in West Los Angeles. Sherman had a hit record out called "Crazy Downtown," which was a parody of the Petula Clark mega-hit, "Downtown."

Like Stan Freberg, MAD Magazine, Soupy Sales, Laurel and Hardy and a few others I could name, Allan Sherman was a huge influence on me. Even at that age, I was writing a lot of silly poems and song parodies…and I guess he was my second-favorite writer of the latter. (My fave was Frank Jacobs in MAD. Mr. Jacobs is the gent to whom we gave the Bill Finger Award this year at the Comic-Con International…and I'm currently lobbying to get someone to publish a book collecting Frank's fine work for that publication and to include a CD of gifted folks singing some of his better efforts.)

Anyway, what you need to know is that I was in Junior High and that Allan Sherman was kind of a hero. His son Robert was a classmate and while we weren't close friends, every now and then Robbie would tell me how his dad was going to be on some TV show or had a new album in the works. I couldn't believe that I was even that close to the guy who wrote and sang those funny records I played over and over and over.

So one month, a campus group called the Girls League decided to stage a talent show/benefit with various students and teachers performing to raise money for I-don't-recall-what-cause. The festivities were to commence with an elaborately-staged (elaborate for a show with zero budget) dance number to "Crazy Downtown." The school orchestra knew the tune and some male student who, sad to say, looked a lot like Allan Sherman would be singing the lyrics while everyone did the frug and the pony around him.

That was the plan until two days before the event. That was when Mr. Campbell, who was the school principal, received a call either from Allan Sherman or Allan Sherman's lawyer vowing to sue if Mr. Sherman's lyrics were used. The obvious assumption was that Robbie had told his father about it. Mr. Campbell explained that this was a pretty low-profile event; that the number was to be performed but twice (two shows) in a Junior High School auditorium before, collectively, less than a thousand people, and that the money was going to a worthy charity. This made no difference to the caller.

With a deep sigh, Mr. Campbell called in the organizers of the benefit and told them to drop the number. They said they couldn't drop the number. It was the opening of the show and there was no time to write and stage something else. "Well," Mr. Campbell suggested, "How about dropping the Allan Sherman lyrics and just singing the real lyrics of "Downtown?" The students argued that, creatively, the number they'd staged really cried out for silly lyrics. Mr. Campbell said, "I'm sorry but this is final. You can't use Allan Sherman's lyrics."

The students behind the show didn't want to use the real "Downtown" lyrics so one of them — a way-too-cute girl named Cady — came to me at lunchtime and said, "Hey, you're always writing funny poems and things and reading them in class. Can you write us a new set of funny lyrics to 'Downtown?'" If Cady had asked me to trisect angles, I probably would have been motivated to learn how but this request was in that small subset of things in this world that I think I can actually do. She took me over to a rehearsal for the show and I watched the number. Then the next morning, I handed her a set of parody lyrics to "Downtown" that used none of Allan Sherman's jokes or even rhymes. I no longer have a copy of what I wrote but I can recall the opening. It went…

I'm feeling low
'Cause every radio show
Keeps telling me to go…Downtown.
All of my friends
Say it's the newest of trends
The party never ends…Downtown.

And from there on, it was all about how the singer was such a terrible dancer that he didn't dare go downtown and attempt to join in the fun. I do remember being pretty proud that I rhymed "fugue" with "frug" and that I got in a reference to Mr. Campbell, whose name I happily decided rhymed with "gamble." But what I really remember were a couple of big tingles 'n' thrills, first when I heard my lyrics being sung on a stage in what seemed almost a semi-professional fashion (a first for me) and then getting some decent laughs at the actual performances (another first).

And then I remember the summons, a few days later, to the office of Mr. Campbell. I didn't know what it was about but I knew I couldn't possibly be in any real trouble. My entire time in school, I never got in any real trouble. This was about as close as I ever came.

Mr. Campbell had someone on the phone when I walked in. My memory is that it was Allan Sherman himself but as I think back, I'm wondering if it wasn't Sherman's attorney who, in turn, had his client in his office or on another line. In any case, Mr. Sherman had heard that most or all of his lyrics had been performed at the benefit and he was going to sue Emerson Junior High, win, tear the school down and put up a Von's Market on the site…or something like that. He was also going to sue all the students involved, including whoever it was who, he insisted, had just "changed a few words" of what he'd written, hoping he [Sherman] wouldn't catch on that his lyrics had been used. I guess that meant me.

Cady and some other Girls League officers were in the office already and they'd explained eleven times that I had written completely different lyrics that had not employed a syllable of Mr. Sherman's work. The person on the other end of the phone refused to believe that.

So it came down to me reciting my lyrics — which I remembered in full then even if I can't today — and Mr. Campbell repeating them, line by line to either Allan Sherman or to a lawyer who was, in turn, repeating them to Allan Sherman. They didn't sound particularly clever that way but eventually, my hero was convinced and he agreed to withdraw his threat. I wish I could report that he also said, "Hey, whoever wrote those may have a future in this business" but no such compliment was voiced.

That was pretty much the end of the story except that it took a while before I could listen to Allan Sherman without getting a tight feeling in my tummy. Years later, I met some of Sherman's associates and learned that I was in good company; that though generally a decent guy, Allan was known to threaten to sue waiters if his soup was lukewarm. Despite that, I still love his work and can probably sing 90% of everything he wrote from memory. That's right. I can remember his lyrics but not my own.

Incidentally: A few years later at University High School, I was called upon again to write last-minute lyrics for a talent show. Students in this one were performing a number of recent hits. The faculty advisor decided that some of the lyrics of these songs, which were played non-stop on the radio, were too "suggestive" to be sung by high school students. I had to "clean up" the lyrics to a number of tunes, including "Never My Love" (a hit of the day for The Association), "Young Girl" (Gary Puckett and the Union Gap) and even the Doors' immortal "Light My Fire." In the last of these, I had to take out the part about lighting the guy's fire.

I did, and the revised lyrics passed inspection by the faculty advisor so the show could go on. But during the actual performance, as all the singers had agreed among themselves, they abandoned my laundered versions and sang the real lyrics. This struck me as the proper thing to do.

We all kept waiting for the faculty advisor to stop the proceedings or haul all the singers out to be shot…but if she noticed, she decided to pretend she didn't. In later years, writing for TV shows, I often employed the same trick of feigned compliance…and you'd be amazed how often it worked. The things you learn in junior high school…