Our friends at Fantagraphics are already putting out a fine reprint set of Mr. Schulz's Peanuts and it's about to be joined by one of Elzie Segar's Thimble Theatre, the strip more commonly known as Popeye. These have been reprinted before but the new series — six hardcovers, Sundays in color, one volume every six months commencing this September — promises to be must-purchase even for those of us who bought the earlier collections.

And if you didn't…well, you may be in for a delightful surprise, especially if you think of Popeye only from his animated appearances. In Segar's newspaper strips, the sailor did a lot more than take six minutes to haul out his spinach and then thrash Bluto. There was a wonderful mix of silliness and solid adventure there, along with some truly memorable (and occasionally, downright odd) characters.

Some history. Elzie Crisler Segar began drawing Thimble Theatre in 1919, featuring a large cast of players but especially a guy named Castor Oyl and his pal, Ham Gravy. They encountered many weird characters and in 1929, one of 'em — a squinty sailor — just plain stayed around a while. In fact, he eventually kicked Castor Oyl out of his own strip and began romancing the guy's sister, Olive.

Segar drew the strip until his death in 1938 producing superb work that has been too often overlooked. When scholars start rattling off the names of the all-time great newspaper comics, they tend to skip over the ones that were continued, even quite ably, by others…so Thimble Theatre gets forgotten. Glad that Fantagraphics has remembered and will be favoring us with some nice "keeper" volumes. You can advanced order the first one here if you're eager.

The other day, it was reported that the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, Alphonso Jackson, had told an audience of minority real estate entrepreneurs that he had cancelled a contract to one firm because its owner said he didn't like George W. Bush. Many folks are objecting to this and rightfully so.

So what's the latest? Well, his official spokesperson confirmed that Jackson had indeed yanked someone's contract because they said they didn't like George W. Bush. Then his official spokesperson said he hadn't and that the whole story was just "anecdotal" and made up. Now, his official spokesperson has gone on a "scheduled leave."

So either Jackson told an audience a bogus story to try and scare them into not criticizing Bush…or he told them a true story for that purpose. You get the feeling Mr. Jackson may wind up going on an unscheduled leave?

My buddy Lee Goldberg links to the piece on memorable final episodes of TV shows and makes the point that a lot of these are unnecessary stunts. Not every show's continuity cries out for some sort of lasting resolution. Maybe the network's need for ratings in a sweeps period do but the nature of the series often does not. Sometimes, I suspect, viewers would be happier to think that their favorite characters were still doing what they did when we enjoyed watching them.

Meanwhile, Johnny Achziger writes…

I watched The Fugitive when it originally ran, and anxiously awaited the finale. But when I watched it, it really outraged me and I thought the whole thing was stupid (and I was maybe 12 years old). I haven't seen it since, but this is what I remember. Dr. Kimble returned to his home town (I believe) and somehow confronted his brother-in-law (I think the one armed man was there at the time), and it turned out that said brother-in-law was present and watching while Mrs. Kimble (his sister) was being murdered, but did nothing because he was too afraid. So he saw the one-armed man, but not only did he not report the facts (out of fear his cowardice would become known), but he let Dr. Kimble take the rap.

I've never seen it since, and like I said, I was about 12 then, and it came across to me as a really lame ending. Maybe it was more dramatic to adults, but it me it was really disappointing.

The way I recall it, there was a neighbor (not the brother-in-law) who witnessed the murder but who kept silent because he was being blackmailed by the one-armed man, Fred Johnson. When the neighbor and Johnson meet at an amusement park, Richard Kimble confronts him, chases him up a water tower and then, just when it looks like Johnson will kill Kimble, Police Lieutenant Gerard shoots and kills Johnson. By this point, because of what he's overheard, Gerard fully believes Kimble is innocent…and since the neighbor is no longer being blackmailed, he can testify to that effect. So Dr. Richard Kimble is a free man.

I thought that was a satisfying ending. In fact, I suspect regular viewers would have felt cheated if it had turned out almost any other way. Kimble had to be proven right about the one-armed man; that it was that guy who'd killed Mrs. Kimble. There was speculation before the episode aired that it might turn out that the one-armed man was actually a witness who could finger the guy (not Kimble) who'd killed the wife. Naw. That would mean our hero was not completely right all those seasons he went around saying a one-armed man had offed his wife. Audiences also craved to see the bad guy pay for his crime…and not after a long trial where Johnson could argue his innocence. We don't like lingering questions or non-immediate gratification in our TV justice. That's why when Perry Mason would figure out who the real killer was, the real killer always confessed, thereby dispensing with any doubt.

So that's why the one-armed man had to confess, then die, plus there had to be someone around who could swear that Kimble was innocent…say, a heretofore-undisclosed eyewitness to the crime. Plus, we wouldn't necessarily like Kimble if he'd been the one to kill the one-armed gent…and he'd have been foolish to do so since it would just have clouded his legal situation at a time when we were aching to see him become a free man. By having Gerard kill him, that kept Kimble's hands clean and it also redeemed Gerard. He'd spent years pursuing an innocent man and now he'd saved that innocent man's life. All very neat and tidy.

But here's what I wonder about. The finale of The Fugitive got one of the highest ratings ever recorded for a TV show. Still, when the shows went into syndicated reruns soon after, they didn't do so well. Was it because the show had had that real, finite ending? Was the problem that America now considered the matter of Dr. Richard Kimble a closed book and there was no point in reopening it? We'll never know but it wouldn't surprise me. It also wouldn't surprise me if on some shows since, when it's proposed they do a "last episode," someone at the studio says to someone else, "Hold on. Don't we want to make money in syndication with these shows? Remember what happened with The Fugitive."

Here's yet another reason to be sorry Johnny Carson isn't still with us and hosting his TV show. It's the field day he'd have with the fact that his sidekick, Ed McMahon, now has his own brand of vodka.

This one only runs thirty seconds but it's a good thirty seconds. It's a commercial for Cocoa Puffs cereal starring everyone's favorites, Rocket J. Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose. I always thought it was odd to see those characters with decent animation. Their episodes were done on the cheap with most of the work done in Mexico but every so often, something would be animated in L.A. with a real budget. This ad was one such effort.

Recently, a high school in The Bronx decided to put on a production of the musical, Chicago. When the folks who control the rights to that show heard about it, the school received a cease-'n'-desist letter and a brief controversy erupted. This article in The New York Times summarizes the problem the outcome and the new controversy about the resolution. Some of the other press coverage played this story like the evil lords of Broadway were trying to stifle the enthusiasm and spirit of some fresh-faced high school kids but it seems to me that the school was wholly in the wrong on this one. The Times article is a little more realistic but it still raises some questions…like why a person who's teaching drama didn't know that if you want to stage a copyrighted show, you have to obtain the permission of the copyright holders.

Here's a news story that may mushroom into a major controversy…and probably should. U.S. Housing and Urban Development Secretary Alphonso Jackson bragged to a gathering of folks from minority-owned real estate companies that one of their own lost a lucrative contract just because he uttered the words, "I don't like President Bush." And the contractor didn't even say that in public. He said it on the phone to Jackson.

So follow this: They decide some real estate company is worthy of a contract. Then they take it away from him just because the guy there said he didn't like Bush. Then they tell this story to people from other real estate companies as a warning.

There are many reasons Bush is around a 31% approval rating. One of them is the perception that this administration cannot deal — rationally or even ethically — with anything short of blind loyalty and agreement.

Sorry to report that I failed to break my previous record of Watching a David Blaine Special, which was 52 minutes and 10 seconds. This time, I only lasted 47 minutes and 31 seconds before I felt myself gasping for air and my support team had to come in and get me out. And I have to admit that I cheated: Half an hour in, I couldn't stand the repetitive hype any longer and I fast-forwarded to the end to watch the finale as Blaine attempted and failed to break the world's record of holding one's breath underwater. (I suspect he did it the hard way: As I understand it, the record he was trying to shatter was for just holding one's breath. Blaine was trying to hold his breath and get out of eight pairs of handcuffs — which you'd kinda figure would make the breath-holding part a little more difficult.)

I admire the guy's physical stamina and to a certain extent, his showmanship. No one else these days — not Copperfield, not Lance Burton — is able to come up with a gimmick that will make a network buy a prime-time magic special. Blaine does, even though it means putting himself through physical hell and risking his life. I'm not sure that's entertainment and I'm not sure America does, either. Despite all the publicity and the opportunity to tune in and maybe see someone die on live TV, the ratings were only a slight improvement over whatever usually hovers in that time period. You'd think he'd do better than that, especially since a show like this would seem to have a two-pronged, foolproof appeal. Those who like David Blaine would tune in because they like him. Those who don't like David Blaine would tune in hoping to see him kill himself.

I'm not sure which of those groups I fall into, though I know I wouldn't want to see him kill himself. In fact, there's something very tasteless and irresponsible about all those doctors standing around, saying he shouldn't be doing this and that his life is in danger…but of course, they're there to support him. I think if I were a doctor and I was really concerned that the guy might off himself or do major damage to his body, I'd refuse to participate. There's a sense in which my presence would be enabling him to go on and attempt it. On the other hand, if I thought it was relatively safe, I don't think I'd be out there suggesting otherwise in order to ratchet up the drama.

As a magician, Blaine is quite skilled…though I've never quite understood the concept of Street Magic. He's always spoken of it like it's an old tradition but to the extent it is, it's also an outmoded one. Magicians may have done a lot of that before there were TV or Las Vegas showrooms or The Magic Castle but nowadays, Street Magic doesn't make a lot of sense. For one thing, there's no money in it. I don't think Mr. Blaine would be walking up to strangers on the boulevard and asking them to take a card, any card, unless he had a camera crew and a contract.

It's a nice gimmick — "taking magic to the people" — but it's also one that enables him to cheat a little. If you do magic before a legitimate audience — even taping for later editing and broadcast — and your trick fails, a lot of folks are going to see that failure. If you do tricks on a street corner for two people and a trick doesn't work, so what? Just toss that footage and do it again for someone else. Some of Blaine's on-the-street tricks depend on a little luck so he can tape one of them ten times with ten different "victims" and throw out the nine times it didn't work. Also, some of his tricks depend on the live audience not noticing some pretty simple gimmicks. If that audience is two people, that's a lot easier than if there are hundreds there…and of course, his camera crew and editors can control what we see or even if we see the trick at all.

In a way, Blaine redeems himself by going to the opposite extreme with the "live" part of his shows — the deadly feat performed in front of the whole world with no edits or camera tricks possible. If you find that kind of daredevil thing entertaining, I guess he does it well. I also guess I don't find it all that entertaining. I find it rather curious and odd, which is why I'm surprised I watched as much as I did.

Over and over, they kept telling us "don't try this at home," which always sounded to me like an odd way to phrase such a warning, even though I used to write that into the dialogue on a show that featured a lot of dangerous stunts. What they didn't want you to try at home because of the Blaine special was something Blaine himself wasn't trying it at home. He was in Lincoln Center surrounded by doctors and a rescue team with oxygen tanks. Frankly, there's zero chance of me trying something like that in my home…and only a slightly better chance of me watching the next David Blaine special there.

I am now about to attempt something dangerous. Last night, my TiVo recorded the entire two-hour special, David Blaine: Drowned Alive, and I am now going to risk my life by attempting to view it. I have a team of doctors standing by as well as a rescue unit that is prepared to go in and get me before any possible brain damage can occur. I pray that I will not need them.

Let's see how long I last. Start the clock.

My longtime pal Gary Brown sends along this link to an article in the Palm Beach Post. Its TV critic, Kevin Thompson, picked what he considered the five top TV series finales. Gary also writes…

I pretty much agree with his choices, but not the order. I must admit, I forgot about The Fugitive's ending, since it's been so long ago, but that created quite a stir and was handled well. I think I'd put the Newhart Show ending as No. 1, since it was such a surprise and so very clever. But it's hard to argue with any of these. In fact, I've been trying to think of other finales and there aren't many of them — Seinfeld was funny and wacky, but probably too long of a goodbye. Of course, most shows get cancelled and never get the chance to wrap things up.

And some of them don't want to for fear it closes off any chance of a revival. But yes, I'd put Newhart at the top of the list with The Fugitive not far behind. Matter of fact, I recently ran into Mark Solomon, who was one of the folks responsible for that last Newhart and I gushed to him about how brilliant I still think it was. I also told him (and it wasn't the first time he'd heard this) that I knew someone who had been out that evening, set a VCR to tape the episode…and missed part of the ending. That Newhart, as it was originally broadcast, ran thirty seconds longer than expected — a fact that also caught at least one CBS affiliate unaware. On at least one station, they cut to local news before the show was over, enraging local viewers.

Here's a page where another TV critic picked the top finales and somehow didn't include The Fugitive.

Hey, how about another song from Kristin Chenoweth? We like her a lot even though she's very short. I met her one time and I think she's around nine inches tall. But she's enormously talented as you'll see in today's clip, which is from an old episode of Rosie O'Donnell's talk show in, I'm guessing, 2001. She sings "The Girl in 14G," which was written for her by Dick Scanlan and Jeanine Tesori, two fine composers who worked on the Broadway musical of Thoroughly Modern Millie. The number runs a little under five minutes…

About once a week lately, some person feels compelled to park a car so as to block part of my driveway. They see about half a legal parking space there and I guess they figure half-a-space is better than nothing…so they pull into it even though it means the rear 50% of the vehicle is situated across my driveway, right in front of my garage door.

I don't quite understand why they do this. Even if they don't care about causing inconvenience to the homeowner, even if they're willing to risk a ticket, you'd think they might worry about someone denting or scraping their auto in order to get out of that garage they're half-blocking. I guess it's some sort of calculated gamble…and so far, they seem to be getting away with it. Four times now, counting yesterday afternoon, I've phoned the police and asked them to have someone come by and issue a violation. Four times now, the person has returned to their car and departed before the law arrived.

Yesterday, I was leaving on some errands when I found a beige Hyundai where a beige Hyundai shouldn't have been. I went back inside, called the gendarmes, then went out to my car and executed a very awkward, difficult manuever to back out of my garage. I had just cleared the offending Hyundai when a scowling looking woman walked up and got into it. I pulled up beside her, rolled down my passenger window and called to her. "Please don't ever park like that again" is what I said. What I got back was a torrent of anger and language that would offend a Tourette's patient. I couldn't make all of it out but the gist seemed to be that a lot of sick, evil people had done a lot of sick, evil things to her over the years so she had every right to park wherever she wanted.

There didn't seem to be a lot of value to continuing the discussion…and since I was starting to block traffic, I wished her good luck with her Anger Management courses and drove off.

I don't have a punch line to this story. It's tempting to make one up ("…and then I realized that woman was Condoleezza Rice!") but there was nothing funny about the woman's rage. She was livid about something — too livid to take the time to find a whole parking space, too livid to apologize for blocking my driveway. I don't know what she'd have done if she'd come back twenty minutes later and found a citation on her car. Probably shot someone.

Fred Kaplan on the nomination of Michael Hayden to head the C.I.A. Why do I have the feeling this is Harriet Miers II?

I've decided I like the new version of I've Got a Secret airing on GSN. Well, let me clarify that: I like the show. I don't like the schedule.

I don't like that they run the same episodes over and over without telling us which ones are reruns. My TiVo has no way of differentiating so it keeps recording episodes I watched the day before. I also don't like the fact that GSN took off the black-and-white reruns of the original Garry Moore version so they could air the same episodes of the new version an extra time. Come on, GSN. In some parts of the country, it's 3 AM in the friggin' morning. You don't need to stick an extra run of one of your new shows there. Give us back our classic Secret.

But I like the show. In case you haven't seen it, Bil Dwyer is the host and the panel consists, for reasons I won't pretend to understand, of four openly-gay performers. All I can imagine is that someone said to someone else, "Hey, you know why Hollywood Squares worked? Because Paul Lynde was gay. Let's get four gay people." As it happens, they got some pretty funny gay people, especially Frank DeCaro and Suzanne Westenhoefer, and they're all good game players.

There are celebrity guests — my TiVo's getting sick of the one with Adam West — and unlike the old show, they actually come on with actual secrets. At least one guest per episode demonstrates an unusual skill or physical feat, and Dwyer keeps things moving nicely. So it's a worthy successor to the original series, and it's refreshing that no one felt the need to completely reinvent and modernize the wheel. They kept what worked and wrapped it in a nice, new package.

One of the producers is Burt DuBrow, a gent I've enjoyed chatting with on several occasions, usually about Howdy Doody. Burt is the world's foremost authority on that classic series, having been a close friend of Buffalo Bob's. At the end of I've Got a Secret, when they show the producers' production company logos, you can see an item from his collection…the little box that Clarabell Clown wore on his belt. If I owned something that neat, I'd show it off, too.

What's Mark found for us today? Well, how about Kristin Chenoweth singing a great song with the Boston Pops? It's "If," also known as "If You Hadn't But You Did." This is a song Betty Comden, Adolph Green and Jule Style wrote for the 1951 Broadway revue, Two on the Aisle, which starred Bert Lahr. Mr. Lahr did not sing this song. The clip has some introductory material and goes in and out of sync but it's worth five minutes of your time.