A Performer With A Peel

A few years ago, on the Internet, several discussion groups and my e-mailbox were filled with questions and vague recollections of one of the most memorable and odd novelty acts from fifties television.  It was a gent called The Banana Man, who appeared often on The Ed Sullivan Show, The Mickey Mouse Club, Howdy Doody and (most often) Captain Kangaroo.  The act basically consisted of this clownlike gent coming out on stage and taking things — mostly bananas — out of his pockets.  He'd pull an amazing number of items out of his baggy coat.  Sometimes, they'd be musical instruments which he'd "play," actually supplying the sound with his mouth.  Other times, they'd be odd props which he'd use in little routines, then dump them along with all the bananas and the occasional watermelon into a steamer-type trunk.

Throughout the act, he would constantly be changing his costume.  He'd wind up as a railroad engineer and he'd somehow turn the trunk into a small, multi-car choo-choo train which he'd ride off the stage.  It was a delightful, haunting little routine that some of us vividly recall.  (I can still "hear" his little la-la singing, which he'd punctuate with a loud "Wow" every time he found some new bit of paraphernalia in his wardrobe.)

Folks my age and older kept asking about him.  Apparently, video of him performing the act is hard to come by, and facts about him were even more elusive.  From an old book on vaudeville, it was known that his name was "A. Robins" (or maybe "Robbins") but that was about it.

Well, thank God, facts are finally emerging.  Apparently, one reason it was so hard to track down info about the guy was that he died after passing the act and name on to at least one other Banana Man.  But diligent fans have ferreted out a lot of data and more seems to be on the way.  Over at this site, Bruce Johnson (aka Charlie the Juggling Clown) has an impressive amount of biographical data.  And over at this site, a gent named Rhett Bryson is building a whole webpage full of photos and facts about the various Banana Men.  This is one of the many reasons we love the Internet.

Day One

Word around the con was that a horrendous traffic accident (including a load of dumped hot asphalt) closed the San Diego Freeway — and therefore, the most-traveled route to the con — for much of the day.  We were lucky to have driven here last night but some folks had terror tales of 6-7 hours doing an inch-a-minute down the 405.  Still, from the crowded hall, you wouldn't have guessed anyone had any trouble making their way to Comic-Con International

And the hall is not only crowded; it's larger than ever before, owing to a new expansion.  Just to walk from the DC display to Artists' Alley, you have to adjust your watch and bed down for the night.  I'm thinking of getting one of those motorized Rascal scooters to tool around the room.  The streets of San Diego are rampant with those little bicycle-driven pedal taxis to carry you from hotel to hotel.  It's only a matter of time before they have them in the convention hall.  ("Take me to the Dark Horse booth…and take the scenic route past Julie Strain's table…")

As for me: The book is out and, of course, we've already found one typo.  I did two panels today…wonderful chats first with Bob Oksner and then with Herb Trimpe.  If I weren't so tired, I'd post interesting summaries.  But I'm too tired.

Lastly, I have a friend who never attends these things but always asks me, "What was the mood of the convention?"  So far, I'd say the mood could be summarized by the phrase, "Can you believe how big this place is?"  We'll see if it's any smaller tomorrow…

About Bill Cullen

I continue to enjoy the hoary reruns of I've Got A Secret on the Game Show Network and I keep noticing little things I never noticed while watching them as a child.  One is how amazingly sharp and clever panelist Bill Cullen was.  Cullen was a great game show host but he was even better as a player.  And I also didn't realize back then that you almost never saw him walking more than a step or two.  He had a bad limp due to childhood Polio and apparently asked the producers to avoid making it obvious.  So they staged the show so you either never saw the panel walk in or across stage or cut around Mr. Cullen walking.

It also meant that the other male panelist, Henry Morgan, handled any activity that required moving about much, and it explains why Morgan, not Cullen, usually guest-hosted when Garry Moore was away.  Too many of the Secret activities required the host to work on his feet.

I did notice, when I watched these shows in the sixties, that the questioning would often start with Betsy Palmer, who was often in the second chair.  I did not understand (but do now) that this was because Cullen was just too smart.  For certain secrets — especially those involving aviation or the military — he was likely to knock it off too rapidly.  Starting with Betsy meant that Bill would play last.

One of these days, panel shows like Secret and What's My Line? will make a big comeback.  The impediment (and I'm sure it's surmountable if anyone tries) may be that there aren't a lot of obvious contenders for panelists.  Back then, there were people like Cullen who'd logged thousands of hours of live TV experience and knew well how to play a game for real but still make it funny.  The recent, unsuccessful resurrection of To Tell the Truth featured a lot of panelists who never quite connected with each other, let alone the audience.  But with half the population of this country now more or less in show business, I can't believe they can't find a new Bill Cullen.

Master of Deception

They've been advertising the hell out of the new Dana Carvey movie, Master of Disguise.  I love Carvey but the commercials sure make me not want to go see his film…especially when they tell us, "If you loved Shrek and Snow Dogs, you'll love Master of Disguise."  Uh, do these three movies have anything at all in common?  I mean, it's not like the creative talents behind Shrek and Snow Dogs have anything to do with Master of Disguise.

They're just naming two popular movies and hoping you'll connect them to Carvey's new film without wondering why.  It's an odd way to sell a product, especially since — if they want to link themselves to Hollywood heat — they could mention that Adam Sandler is one of the Executive Producers of Master of Disguise.  But they don't.

I have absolutely no idea how good a movie this is.  But I sure get the feeling that whoever's putting their ads together doesn't think much of it.

This Week

All set for the convention?  Yeah…me, neither.  Every year, a few days before the annual Comic-Con International in San Diego, I survey the list of Things I Absolutely Must Do Before The Con and wish we could get a postponement.  All I'm asking is that they delay the thing about ten days.  Is that too much to ask?

But I'll get everything done and, once I'm there and things shift from pre-convention frenzy to convention-in-progress frenzy, all will be fine.  For those of you who need a preview of my con-in-progress frenzy, here's another link to the list of the twelve (12!) events I'm hosting.  Perhaps we'll see you at one of them.  Perhaps we'll even see me at one of them.

And while I have your attention: Here's the weather forecast for San Diego.  As I write this, the call is for highs of 72, lows of 66 throughout the convention.

The Con's A'Coming!

Just added to Friday's MAD Magazine panel at the Comic-Con International: Current "Spy Vs. Spy" artist Peter Kuper.  Oughta be even more fun.

We have a load of convention tips over here but here's one more: The parking spaces at the convention center in San Diego tend to fill up rapidly.  They have, however, a most-efficient shuttle bus network making the rounds of nearby hotels.  You may be able to park at or near one of those hotels, hop on a shuttle bus and get to the convention that way.  Just a thought.

And two more: If you want to get cash from the ATM at the convention center, you'd better get in line now.  In other words, bring money.  Don't count on being able to snag some there.  Also, if you're in need of food or toiletries, there's a huge Ralph's Market about three blocks from the convention center.

I will be where I'll be, as per my convention schedule.  If you're a devout follower of this website and want to say howdy, I'd be delighted to say howdy back.

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

I don't really care what happens to Senator Robert Torricelli but sitting here, watching news coverage of the ethics investigation of the man, I keep hearing a phrase that always struck me as odd.  The phrase is…

"…the appearance of impropriety."

Now, obviously, if one is in a position of trust, one should do whatever one can to avoid the appearance of impropriety.  But once someone has decided you might have done something improper and started investigating, shouldn't the question of "appearance" be considered moot?  Either you did something improper or you didn't.  If you did, then that's the crime.  I mean, if someone is found guilty of killing someone, we don't also accuse them of creating "the appearance of murder."  If you didn't do something improper, then permitting the appearance may have been foolish on your part…but it's also possible that the error was in the eye of the beholder.

The Senate's Ethics Committee has just, as I write this, admonished Torricelli for a number of actions, including "the appearance of impropriety."  This seems to me like a one-sided, don't-argue-with-us admonition: "We think you looked like you were doing something wrong and, even though you weren't, you're to blame for the fact that we thought that."

Like I said, I don't care much about Torricelli and, even leaving this charge aside, there are plenty of others against him, some involving more than appearance.  But when I hear someone being chastized for "the appearance of impropriety," I always suspect that the accuser may be blaming the accused for a false accusation, and doing so in a manner that does not permit them to defend themselves.

Counter Intelligence

We've been averaging 1100 "hits" per day here at POVonline.  Ergo, we are less than a week from notching 200,000 on the little counter at the bottom of this page.

Web counters are close to meaningless.  When you access a site, an "I.P." address is transmitted.  This is a code that is supposed to be a unique identifier, thereby enabling the host computer to differentiate between ten accesses by one user and ten accesses by ten users.  There are hundreds of reasons why this means of tallying does not really work but I'll cite two…

First:  Counters are configured to track by a certain "no repeat" pattern.  They don't want you to count as 100 hits if you sit there and reload the same page 100 times in a row.  Therefore, they only record repeat I.P. addresses if a certain interval of time has passed between them.  The trouble is that one counter might count a new "hit" if you access the page again after five minutes, whereas another counter might insist on an hour.  Ergo, two counters on two different sites could be playing by completely different rules.

Second:  More people access the web via America On-Line than any other Internet Service Provider.  For its own quaint reasons, AOL assigns I.P. numbers from a limited pool.  Thus, a thousand people who are simultaneously accessing the Internet via AOL could have the same I.P. number at the same time and, if they all access the same site, they could be counted as one person.

The unreliability of counters is so obvious that one company offers a service they call Fake Counter, which puts a counter on your web page that generates a completely random number.  Here's a Fake Counter and, as you'll see if you reload this page repeatedly, it gives you a meaningless, non-sequential statistic every time…

Nevertheless, just as people overlook the margin of error or vagueness of questioning in polls when it serves their purpose, we pretend web counters actually count.  So I thank all of you for publicizing this site and for giving me the completely illogical feeling of pride I will feel when we top 200,000…and then, in less than two months, when we top a quarter of a million.

A Moment of Nostalgia

sourorangegum

I miss Adams Sour Orange Gum.  I haven't chewed a piece of gum since they stopped making it.  The company was purchased by Pfizer, the people who make Viagra…which reportedly has much the same effect.

Just Before Midnight

Updates on events at the Comic-Con International: You can expect a real battle at the Beat the Geeks competition on Saturday.  Representing the show will be their Comic Geek plus two deputy Geeks…but most of the Geeks from the Comedy Central series will also be present.  Also, we've added Mike Royer to the Jack Kirby Tribute Panel on Sunday.  Mike was Jack's main inker throughout the seventies.  For more info, click below…

Theater Buffs: You might want to stop by www.achorusline.org, a site set up by and for former cast members of what was once Broadway's longest-running musical.  Very interesting.

Gene Moss Memorial

Actor-Writer Gene Moss was remembered last evening with a lovely memorial service out at the Sportsmens Lodge in Studio City.  Family, friends and even a few devoted Shrimpenstein fans turned out in force to recall and tell stories about a very funny, creative man.  Gary Owens told of the halcyon days of Roger Ramjet recording (Gary had the title role; Moss and his then-partner Jim Thurman wrote 'em all) when Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin were recording next door, and one of them would pop by to play some one-line role, sans credit.  Thurman told of the days they wrote and performed together, noting that he was omitting incidents for which the Statute of Limitations had not expired.  Even our own Scott Shaw! got up and spoke as a representative of all of us who were inspired by/warped by (pick one) the hip humor that Moss and Thurman brought to television in the sixties.  It all made for a lovely remembrance of a man who, everyone agreed, would have loved one more chance to be around all those people.

David Letterman and the Emmy Awards

Two tiny controversies seem to be erupting with regard to The Late Show With David Letterman and its Emmy nominations this year, or lack thereof.  Both relate to Letterman's moving 9/17 broadcast, his first following the tragedies of 9/11, the one on which Dan Rather broke into tears.  The Late Show was nominated in the category of "Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Series."  The way the process works, the nominated entries must submit a tape of an episode for the judges to view so they can determine who gets the Emmy.  As recounted here in The New York Observer, Letterman's show submitted the 9/17 broadcast and some folks think that's tacky or perhaps exploitive.  The other controversy appeared in a column by David Bianculli in The New York Daily News which I won't link to because they charge money to read it.  Basically, it complains that…

In the category of Individual Performance in a Variety or Music Program, for the period June 1, 2001, to May 31, 2002, David Letterman was not nominated.  This is the man who gave television one of its most important entertainment hours of the entire season: his Sept. 17 "Late Show With David Letterman" on CBS, six days after the terrorist attacks on his adopted city and home base.

I think both issues are pretty frivolous and I wonder if everyone really understands the procedure by which Emmy Awards are nominated and awarded.  Basically, there are three stages to receiving an Emmy…

One is the submission.  The show or individual submits whatever they believe qualifies in a given category.  So if it's a category for Outstanding Performance By An Individual, David Letterman's people submit his name, in effect saying, "We think David should be considered in this category."  If it's a category for a series (i.e., "Outstanding Series"), they submit the name of the show.  If it's a category for an individual episode, they submit the episode number and the date.  A screening committee then rules on whether each submission qualifies in its category, eliminates those that don't, then compiles the nominating ballots.

That brings us to the second stage: The nomination.  Ballots go out.  Ads are purchased. A lot of us get tons of tapes and DVDs in the mail.  (This year, Everyone Loves Raymond sent every voter both a tape and a DVD of two episodes and F/X sent us a box of tapes that lit up with a ring of battery-powered lights when you opened it.)  Voters throughout the Academy vote on the list of all eligible entrants, checking off their choices.  The ballots are returned and tabulated, and the top vote-getters in each categories become the nominees.  So if someone or some show doesn't get a nomination, it means either that (a) it wasn't submitted or (b) it didn't get enough votes from members of the Academy.  I would guess that (b) is the case in well more than 99% of the glaring omissions.

The third stage is the final voting: The nominees are asked to submit tapes that can be screened by the Blue Ribbon judging committees.  If the nomination is for an individual, they're asked to send over tapes of what they consider their best performances.  If it's for a show, they send over a couple of their best episodes.  If it's for a specific episode, they send over tapes of that episode.

The judges vote and the Emmy gets awarded.  End of story.

Letterman's show was nominated in four categories: Writing, direction, technical direction and "Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Series."  As mentioned, they've reportedly submitted Dave's September 17 show as an example in the last category and it's bothering some folks, who consider it the exploitation of something that shouldn't be exploited.  I don't know that I have an opinion on that but I'm guessing that it will work and it's not a big deal.

(By the way, because folks always wonder about this: Except when the Emmy is for a specific episode, the clips that are shown on the Emmy broadcast are not necessarily from the submitted episode.  So they may or may not show a clip from that episode on the awards show.)

Now then.  The piece in the Daily News makes what I consider a very silly statement about the fact that Letterman wasn't nominated as a performer…

The executive committee of the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences should rethink the unfairness of the competition in this particular category.  But before that, they should look at themselves in the mirror and accept the guilt and shame that ought to come from allowing such a pivotal TV performance to go unrecognized.

This is silly because, even as the category is defined, Jon Stewart got a nomination.  Does anyone think that there's something wrong with a process that puts Jon Stewart and David Letterman in the same category?  No?  Well, that's the only thing that the executive committee can control…the way the categories are defined.  If the voters didn't vote for Letterman in sufficient number, it's hardly a sign of "guilt and shame" on behalf of the administrators of the awards.  (Or there's another possibility — that Letterman wasn't submitted — which wouldn't be the exec committee's fault, either.)

It is the perhaps-unfortunate nature of any kind of competition in which human beings vote that, sometimes, they don't vote the way you think they should.  This applies to award competitions but also to things like electing presidents, senators and governors…all of which involve a vastly more mature selection process and one which most voters probably approach with more consideration.  When someone moans that the Oscar or Emmy or Grammy went to the wrong person, I always want to ask, "Do you think the right person is always elected to public office?  If not, why would you expect that something as inconsequential as an entertainment award be decided by a flawless procedure?"

Yes, the Academy could have reconfigured the category rules in a manner that would have made it more likely…perhaps even guaranteed that Letterman would have been nominated.  But that would almost certainly have meant breaking two categories — male and female — into four, creating two more Emmy awards.

This is one of the problems that the Emmy Awards face: There are too damn many of them.  Every time someone doesn't get a nomination they think they deserve, they petition the Academy to break out some job description and lower the bar.  It's like if I don't get nominated so I run in and lobby to create a new category for "Outstanding script by a 6'3" half-Jewish kid who previously wrote Porky Pig comic books."  The funny thing is that, in the past, the Academy has occasionally given in and configured a new award that seems slanted to favor one potential winner…and when they've done this, someone else has popped up to win the first one.

None of this is very important.  Nothing about entertainment awards is very important.  But if we're going to have them, let's just play by the rules and not get bothered when that doesn't yield the result we think it should.  David Letterman has a shelf full of Emmy statuettes and will probably pick up another for Outstanding Series.  Somehow…call me reckless…I think the world can survive him not winning this year for Individual Performance.

Coming to a Newsstand Near You…

Next week's TV Guide features a list of the "50 Greatest Cartoon Characters of All Time."  Their top five are, in this order: Bugs Bunny, Homer Simpson, Rocky & Bullwinkle, Beavis & Butt-Head and the Grinch.  Although I am quoted as an authority in the article, I never place much stock in this kind of list.  It is, after all, just the opinion of some small group of folks, whose levels of expertise and taste — and perhaps even, their identities — are unknown to us.  You and I could get three friends together and cobble up a list that would be just as valid or invalid.  The only difference would be that ours wouldn't be in TV Guide.

Their list is odd.  It includes Gerald McBoing-Boing, Wonder Woman, Angelica Pickles and the bill from Schoolhouse Rock…but omits Droopy, Huckleberry Hound, Casper the Friendly Ghost, Yosemite Sam, Goofy, Super Chicken, Crusader Rabbit, Elmer Fudd, The Tasmanian Devil, The Pink Panther, Foghorn Leghorn and many others.  There are no Jetsons or Smurfs, and there are a lot of odd rankings (Josie and the Pussycats are #24, Porky Pig is #47) and strange groupings (Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble are one listing, whereas Homer Simpson is one, Bart and Lisa Simpson comprise another).

But it's just a list, just someone's opinion…and I wonder why anyone takes something like this seriously, as I'm sure folks will across the Internet in the coming week.  Watch the fighting begin.

The Birth of Groo

Gordon Kent liked what I posted about him but suggested I explain to folks why he didn't get paid for coloring the first Groo story.  It's because it appeared in a benefit comic for which no one got paid.  Back in 1982, our friend Steve Gerber was locked in a battle with Marvel Comics over his creation, Howard the Duck.  Marvel's admitted strategy was to make the battle so expensive that Steve would just give up.  That he didn't…that he was able to continue it until a satisfactory settlement was reached…had a lot to do with Destroyer Duck #1.  A whole batch of us — including Jack Kirby, Alfredo Alcala, Neal Adams, Shary Flenniken, Marty Pasko, Joe Staton, Scott Shaw!, Dan Spiegle and a couple of other folks, including Steve — donated our time and talents to put out this comic, all proceeds going towards Gerber's legal bills.  Sergio contributed the first-completed Groo tale.  I was very proud to be involved in this project and glad to have Gordon and all the others participating.

Briefly Noted…

R.C. Harvey has posted a great bio of cartooning great Roy Crane.  Crane was one of the best "storytellers" to ever work in the medium and anyone attempting to draw comics (books or strips) would do well to seek out and devour his work.  Here's the link to Bob's fine article.

A few days ago, in this item, I mentioned a man who claims to have psychic powers when he fondles a person's buttocks.  I pinned the looniness on Florida, which was not quite correct.  The ass-reader is based in Germany.  The link was to a story about him disseminated by a Florida news outlet.  You can all readily understand, however, how I could have made such a mistake.