United Airlines is reportedly filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection any day now.  I am not surprised, and you know why?  Because United Airlines once lost my luggage, and when an airline loses my luggage — even though they always eventually find it — they're in big trouble.  Remember PSA?  Western?  TWA?  Two different airlines named National?  All gone or acquired, within a few years of losing my luggage.  Here is a column I just posted about how United sealed their fate a few years ago by losing my luggage.

That's a photo of the Pacific Cinerama Dome up on Sunset Boulevard, as it looked in '63 when it was housing its debut attraction, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.  The place is currently undergoing extensive remodeling and will soon reopen as part of some sort of shopping mall.  God knows L.A. could use more malls.  There are parts of this town where you can go an entire block without encountering a Victoria's Secret, a Gap, a Foot Locker and/or a Mrs. Fields' Cookies shop.

But at least the Cinerama Dome will exist.  As I think back to movie theaters I patronized in the sixties and seventies, I recall a lot of buildings that are no longer there…or if they are, they're no longer movie houses.  Out on Sepulveda, just north of LAX, there are two that have long since been converted to office buildings.  I can't drive out to the airport without noticing the Loyola and the Paradise.  The Paradise is a special memory.  One of the first movies I ever saw in a theater — Jerry Lewis's Don't Give Up the Ship — I saw there.  And I was also there for one of its closing attractions, which was the animated Disney version of Robin Hood.

A lot of other such palaces are gone — like the Picwood, which once sat near the intersection of Pico Boulevard and Westwood.  It and the adjoining bowling alley were there for fifty-some-odd years but my personal history spanned Hey There, It's Yogi Bear (1964) and Fame (1980).  There's a block-long shopping mall there now, with a Tony Roma's rib joint at the approximate location of the Picwood.

About a mile northwest, at the corner of Olympic and Bundy, there's a huge Cadillac dealership, erected on land which once comprised the Olympic Drive-In.  There, around age seven, I saw (with my parents) a double-feature of the old Fleischer Brothers' animated Gulliver's Travels, paired with the then-recent cowboy comedy, Once Upon A Horse.  The latter was an unsuccessful attempt to sell the new comedy team of Dan Rowan and Dick Martin as the new Martin and Lewis.  In fact, it was so unsuccessful that — eleven years later, when they made their next feature, The Maltese Bippy — they publicized it as their first movie.  The Maltese Bippy, by the way, had its world premiere at the Picwood.

Many other movie theaters of my youth are gone, and a few others — like the Fairfax — have been carved up into multiplex cinemas.  I am not suggesting they should have been preserved just because they were a part of my childhood.  I just think it's interesting what these old buildings mean to us.  I have a great memory but I'll bet that even if I didn't, I could still remember that I first saw 101 Dalmatians at the Meralta in Culver City, first saw Doctor No at the Aero in Santa Monica, and first saw Robin and the Seven Hoods at the Fox Wilshire in Beverly Hills.  The theaters are no longer there but the memories never get replaced by California Pizza Kitchens.

Noel Neill was the second actress to portray Lois Lane on the original Superman TV show and — no offense to her predecessor, Phyllis Coates — Ms. Neill will forever occupy a warm spot in many of our hearts.  I never met Noel Neill but I aim to say howdy to her in person on the weekend of January 18-19.  She's been announced as among the guests (along with Soupy Sales, Don Knotts, Rip Taylor, Judy Strangis, Rod McKuen and many others) at the Hollywood Collectors Show out in Studio City.  Go here for details on how you can be there and say hello to the first Lois Lane most of us knew.

An earlier item brought a few e-mails from folks who were surprised to hear that Charles Lane is alive.  He's 97 years old but, happily, he's reportedly still with us.  If you're a fan of incredible careers, click here to jump over to the Internet Movie Database and peruse the exhaustive list of motion pictures and a partial (quite incomplete) list of TV programs this man appeared in.  It includes It's A Wonderful Life, 42nd Street, You Can't Take It With You, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Arsenic and Old Lace, The Music Man, films with the Marx Brothers, Harold Lloyd, Abbott and Costello… well, as you can see, it just goes on and on.  He only had one or two lines in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World but then that's more than some people.

More Shemp on the web.  Two of Shemp Howard's granddaughters have a site devoted to Grandpa over at www.shempcompany.com.  I'm grateful to Randal May for the referral because, after all, you can never get too much Shemp.

An alley in Muncie, Indiana has been named in honor of David Letterman.  But the dedication ceremony was marred by a protest by fans of Garfield the Cat.  This actually happened.  Here's a link to a press account.

At the Mad World screening — and I promise I'll stop talking about it in a day or so — I met a couple of e-mail acquaintances, including Daniel Frank, a clever guy who publishes this weblog.  Writing of the movie over there, he remarks…

One minor negative note is that (and I don't know if this is a function of the big screen or of seeing the movie) the stunt doubles in some scenes were glaringly obvious (as in an actor's face would turn to the camera and was obviously not his face).

He's right.  In fact, I think I could pick the guy who doubled Dick Shawn out of a police lineup.  But then, I always wonder how big a deal that is.  Does anyone ever not know when they're seeing the stuntman instead of the star?  Even when I first saw the film at age 11, I knew that Spencer Tracy hadn't really swung across the street and crashed into a building.  Matter of fact, I might have enjoyed the film less if I'd believed it was him.  One of the things that impairs the last few Laurel and Hardy movies for me is that it's not as funny to see an old man fall down as it is to see someone in reasonably good health.  (Actually, I've always been one of those folks who watches slapstick comedies and rarely laughs at the slapstick…but you know what I mean.)

I suspect the stunt doubling in Mad World is like a lot of magic tricks: It only really fools you the first time.  It isn't the big screen since the movie was made to be shown on an even bigger screen than the one Daniel and the rest of us saw it on the other night.  It's that the more you see a film like that, the more you notice the wires, the continuity errors and, yes, the stunt people.

One time when I can recall an obvious stuntman switch really spoiling a movie for me was the last James Bond film with Roger Moore in the lead.  Someone had decided that, to make things exciting on the screen, 007 had to perform incredible athletic feats — and though the substitutions were expertly done, they struck me as too jarring.  Mr. Moore was close to sixty and even as a young man, he never seemed particularly physical.  My grandmother was more likely to be swinging on the cables of a suspension bridge.

I found that distancing.  I'm just as conscious of the stuntwork in Mad World but I don't find it distancing.  Go figure.  Maybe it's that the latter film hooks me with strong performances, or maybe it's just that it's intentionally sillier, or maybe I just plain like it better and am more forgiving.  All movies involve a suspension of disbelief but some disbelief is easier to suspend than some other disbelief.

My friend of many years, writer Marv Wolfman, has personally refurbished his website — yes, it's www.marvwolfman.com — and you might like to drop by.  Marv has been responsible for some fine comic books, including Tomb of Dracula, The New Teen Titans, and Blade, and he once helped Len Wein crate up Tony Isabella and attempt to ship him to the Middle East.  That alone deserves your respect.

Someone set up a website devoted exclusively to Shemp Howard.  This is a very noble deed and it calls to mind the one time I was foolish enough to attend a Three Stooges Film Festival.  (I like the Stooges' shorts but eight in a row?  By about the fifth, I was ready to poke my own eyes out.)  All the films featured Curly and halfway through — during the intermission — I casually wondered aloud if perhaps the second batch would include one or two featuring Shemp, who preceded and later replaced his brother Curly in the act.  "Might we be getting a little Shemp?" I innocently inquired.  This is what you call your basic Wrong Thing To Say.

All around me, Stooge buffs gasped and expressed shock that anyone with an I.Q. greater than, say, Larry's would want to sit through — yechh! — a Stooge short with Shemp in it.  Boo, hiss.  It all sounded a lot like the way others talk about Three Stooges shorts in general, and I never quite knew why.  Samuel "Shemp" Howard was the most accomplished comedian of the troupe and even if Curly's infantile mutterings struck some as more amusing, didn't the Shemp films have at least a lot of the same appeal?  Apparently, for die-hard Stooge lovers, no.  I can understand preferring one over the other but not the outright hostility.  It was almost as if Shemp was somehow to blame for his brother having a stroke and having to retire.

Anyway, it's nice that someone likes Shemp enough to put up a site in his honor.  I don't think it'll ever lead to true respectability — we're talking Stooges here — but it's nice to see a little bit of justice in the world.  Can due esteem for Joe Besser be that far off?

There's an article about It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World here and another one over here.  The first of these pieces notes…

Karen Sharpe Kramer said her husband also broke cinematic ground with the project, presenting it in the then-new process of Cinerama, and keeping the show going during the intermission with an interactive feature — the playing of scripted police radio transmissions over speakers located throughout the theater.

The male voice on many of those faux police calls was that of the aforementioned Lennie Weinrib, who is also heard in many places during the film.  He's most identifiable as the voice on the police radio that announces that the cabs are chasing Captain Culpeper, and dubbing for the stuntmen at the end who play fire fighters.

Lennie may be better known to you from his many on-camera appearances which ranged from Magic Mongo to The Dick Van Dyke Show.  On the latter, he was the guy who phoned Rob, got him to dismantle his phone and told him to "Scream like a chicken!"  He was in two other episodes of that, as well, and just about every sitcom of the sixties and seventies.  His voice appeared on hundreds of cartoon shows, and many a Krofft production.  He was the voice of H.R. Pufnstuf, for example.  A talented, funny man…and a regular reader of this website, I'm happy to say.

I continue to savor the late night black-and-white programming on the Game Show Network, though I've Got a Secret hasn't been nearly as enjoyable since they ran out of episodes hosted by Garry Moore.  His replacement, Steve Allen, was extraordinarily gifted at many things but game show hosting was not among them, and the contrast points up how good Moore was.  With Garry, the game was the most important thing and he knew how to keep it going and when to drop a hint.  He also made the panel look good and, if and when those two causes had been served, he might drop in his own funny comments.  On the Steve Allen Secret, the priorities were exactly reversed.  You can even sense the occasional annoyance of panelist Henry Morgan, who clearly did not like finding himself on The Steve Allen Show.

When I get a moment, I'll write something here about Henry Morgan, who probably deserves a lot better than to be remembered only for game shows.  He was, like Fred Allen, a brilliant radio humorist who never quite found a place in television to do what he did best.  But he was brilliant on radio to the extent of inspiring countless others.  To cite but one example, a lot of the running gags in Harvey Kurtzman's seminal MAD were right off the Morgan program.  Can anyone remind me of some others before I write my big piece on him?

From Army Archerd's column in yesterday's Daily Variety…

Stars of Stanley Kramer's "It's a Mad (4) World" skedded to attend the 43rd anni screening at the Egyptian Wednesday include: Jonathan Winters, Sid Caesar, Stan Freberg, Buddy Hackett, Mickey Rooney, Edie Adams, Madlyn Rhue, Carl Reiner, Peter Falk, Don Knotts, and Marvin Kaplan.  The screening's hosted by Karen Sharpe Kramer, American Cinematheque, TCN and MGM/UA.

I'll be there tonight.  And I'll be back here with a full report after what I expect will be a very long but wonderful evening.  And before anyone asks: That's most of the surviving cast members but not all.  Among those who are still with us who won't be with us are Arnold Stang, Dorothy Provine, Barrie Chase, Cliff Norton, Jerry Lewis, and Charles Lane.  Also, Lennie Weinrib — who supplied many of the uncredited voiceovers — is alive and well in Chile, of all places.  (Hey, Lennie!  Hope you're okay.  Haven't heard from you lately.)

Oh, my God. I hope you didn't watch — here's the entire, official title — Comedy Central Presents The NY Friars Club Roast of Chevy Chase.  If you did, you saw one of the all-time great train wrecks in television history.  If you didn't and you enjoy feeling ill at ease, it airs again December 6, 7, 14 and 24.  As a piece of entertainment, it's truly amazing — a "comedy roast" that is largely devoid of humor, affection or even big stars.  Steve Martin, Nathan Lane and Martin Short appear via a segment taped elsewhere but otherwise, Mr. Chase is called an untalented, drug-addicted moron by a lot of folks, few of whom have any real connection to him.  Talk about shows that make you wonder how they could have happened.

One assumes Chevy was chosen for the honor because someone figured that superstars would flock to participate.  They didn't.  The Martin/Lane/Short piece looked like a later drop-in engineered by producers who knew they didn't have much of a line-up based on those who actually showed up for the event.  Of all the performers who worked with Chevy on Saturday Night Live, the only ones in attendance were Al Franken, Laraine Newman and roastmaster Paul Shaffer.  Beverly D'Angelo was there from the Vacation movies…but that was about it for Chase co-stars.  Instead, the dais was padded out with comedians who barely knew him…and didn't have anything particularly funny to say about him.  Gilbert Gottfried and Kevin Meaney, who have been known to be hilarious elsewhere, were among the many who apparently performed but were edited from the tape.  Others, like Richard Belzer, were included but obviously had large chunks of their speeches trimmed in the editing room.  Given what stayed in, you have to wonder about the material that couldn't be used.

But the big squirm was seeing Chevy Chase, who seemed to hate every moment of it — and who wouldn't?  A line of strangers and slight friends paraded to the podium to announce that he was a doper, a jerk and a performer in crappy movies…and very little of this was said with the kind of loving twinkle we used to see when Don Rickles told Sinatra his voice was bad.  Past entries in this series (Hugh Hefner, Drew Carey, etc.) featured a lot of character assassination but you got the idea that most of those on the premises really liked the guy they were smearing.  Not here.

What could possibly have been on Chevy Chase's mind when he agreed to this?  He'd been roasted once before at the Friars so he knew the drill.  He must have had an inkling that it wouldn't be an evening of Danny Aykroyd and Goldie Hawn reminiscing about what a kick it was to co-star with him.  Throughout, the roastee sat wearing sunglasses that failed to mask his discomfort, and feigning slight laughter at an occasional line.  He looked for all the world like a man undergoing a painfully slow root canal, sans Novocaine.

Folks have wondered how he could have accepted certain movie scripts and the gig on his short-lived talk show…but at least those can be explained by money.  Someone was shoveling millions of dollars at him.  So why sit for this public stoning?  Given the books and articles that have recently portrayed him in a bad light, you have to guess he either had some terrible, terrible advice that this would help his image…or that it's all true, and he felt the need for some public humiliation as a form of punishment.  Either way, the result is pretty much the same.

And here we are, back home again on the left coast.  Can I mention one last time what a terrific gathering the Mid-Ohio Con is?  My thanks for the invite to its operator, Roger Price, who really knows how to do things right.

There's unpacking to do, e-mail to catch up on, and I'm still operating on Ohio time.  So I'll just confirm that the Garry Trudeau interview is Tuesday night/Wednesday morning and Wednesday night/Thursday morning on Up Close.  Nighty-night.

The gent on the right is my longtime partner, Sergio Aragonés.  The man on the left is Al Feldstein, whose many achievements in the world of comic art were noted here yesterday.  In fairness, I should mention Mr. Feldstein's one moment of utter shame: In 1962, when Sergio wandered up to the MAD offices, he was an out-of-work, needy cartoonist, newly arrived in this country and, so far, unable to make much of a buck selling his pantomime cartoons.  When he left the MAD offices, he was one of The Usual Gang of Idiots, about to begin a streak of appearing in every issue, and becoming one of the world's most honored drawers of silly pictures.  (Well, to be accurate, he missed one issue of MAD since then due to a bad case of flu — but only one.  Even with one miss, it's still an amazing record.)  Feldstein and his associates decided that day in '62 that the man with the mustache had something special to offer the world of humor.  And Sergio's been fooling them ever since.

The photo was taken a few hours ago, during the closing moments of Mid-Ohio Con here in Columbus, Ohio.  As they say, a wonderful time was had by all.  I enjoyed spending time with, among others, Jeff Smith, Dick Ayers, Tony Isabella, Dick Giordano, Paul Ryan, Steve Lieber, Dan Mishkin, Tom Mandrake, Bob Ingersoll, Roger Stern, Thom Zahler, Paul Storrie, Don Simpson, Alan Burnett, and I'm probably leaving out Someone Really Important.  So please forgive me, Someone Really Important.

Oh, I know: Len Wein and Marv Wolfman were here and they specifically asked to be mentioned on this website.  Okay, guys.  Now what?

Anyway, at the risk of repeating what I said yesterday, this is a great con.  If you can make it next year, do so.  I'm certainly going to try to make it.