I put up a "tipping" box the other day, fully expecting that, within a year, it might net me the price of a box of Fig Newtons. Amazingly, quite a few of you have "tipped" in the last day and a half…and I thank you all.
One thing I learned in setting this up is that, if you tip websites, you oughta tip big. This is because PayPal — which is what I'm using to pass the hat — takes too big a bite out of tiny payments. Their fee is 30¢ on each payment plus 2.9%. This means that on a ten dollar transaction, they only get 60¢ but on a one dollar tip, PayPal takes a third. (They take a smaller percentage with their merchant accounts). Amazon-dot-com, which some folks use for this purpose, charges 15¢ plus 15%. This means that they get 30¢ on a dollar tip and $1.65 on a ten dollar gratuity.
Learning this has changed the way I tip when I web-surf. Instead of making a lot of little $2 payments, I'm sending $10 to a fifth as many sites. It may not be as fair but it gets more money to folks who operate the websites I like. (This is not intended as a hint but, if the urge seizes you, there should be a "tip box" somewhere on this page.)
There are a couple of transaction services that charge smaller fees (or none) but from what I can tell, they force your "tippers" to open accounts and/or to give credit card numbers to firms that are less well-established than the two mentioned above. I'm avoiding them and you probably should, as well.
Good article in the L.A. Weekly about the ongoing (and unfortunately rancorous) attempts by the Writers Guild of America, West to organize animation writers at Nickelodeon. (Here's the link.) My sympathies are about 110% with the writers, natch, and I spent many years of my life working with the WGAw on earlier attempts.
During those efforts, we found that sentiment among animation writers was nearly unanimous. Apart from one or two who probably (one, admittedly) sought to court favor with their employers by offering token resistance, all who wrote cartoons wanted desperately to have the WGA represent them. To understand why, one only has to work, as I and others have, for the same company with and without WGA coverage. I wrote live-action for Disney and animation for Disney and, believe me, it was like the difference between being treated as a person and as some sort of low-grade industrial droid.
It is not, as some might believe, merely a matter of money. I would say it has more to do with simple human decency with regard to business dealings. When you work under the WGA contract, it's a lot less likely that they're going to waste your time and get you to spend days thinking up or even writing up ideas for projects that are not going to go forward. There is a reasonably-mature mechanism in place to deal with business disputes that may arise. You are reasonably assured of getting proper credit for your work. (I could go on and on…)
Having put in my time in the salt mines of union organizing, and suffered considerable losses (both personal and financial) for it, I have opted to curtail my activism in the current crusades. However, in case it matters to anyone reading this, I — like just about everyone else who's ever written a cartoon — am firmly on the side of the Writers Guild. And I doubt that anyone on either side seriously doubts they will prevail. The folks at Nick know the WGA will triumph; they just want to get as many shows as possible done before that happens.
Just noticed that today is the big five-oh for my friend of 30-some-odd years, Tony Isabella. And some odd years, they've been. Tony is a fine writer, critic, defender of creator's rights, snappy dresser…okay, forget snappy dresser. But he's an all-around goodguy and someone I've been proud to call paisano for all this time. He writes two on-line columns for comic book sites and, like me, occasionally talks about comic books in them. You can find one of them at www.perpetualcomics.com and the other at www.wfcomics.com and they're both worth a regular mouse-click or two if you can tear yourself away from the porn sites for five minutes.
Foster Brooks — aka "The Lovable Lush" — has passed away at the age of 89. They said it was "natural causes" which, in his case, should have meant alcoholism, which he portrayed so well on stages for decades. That is, it would if he really drank, which he reportedly didn't. But he sure played a funny drunk. I don't usually find that all that amusing — and less so as I get older — but I do recall the first time I saw him. There was a brief time on The Tonight Show when Mr. Carson was occasionally booking fake guests to come out and be silly. He'd bring them on with serious, deadpan intros and then, once they were seated in the chair next to him, they'd say or do something outrageous.
Brooks, who was then an unknown actor, was introduced as the Mayor of Burbank. This was back when Johnny was based in New York and occasionally doing his show from "Hollywood," which on NBC meant Burbank. Out came Brooks, looking for all the world like a Mayor of Burbank, and the first few exchanges were sober and somewhat boring. Mayor Brooks was sipping nervously from a cup and, around the third or fourth question, you started to notice him slurring his words. He got more and more tipsy and he did it so well that I suspect a lot of viewers actually thought, "Oh, my God…the Mayor of Burbank is getting drunk on The Tonight Show and embarrassing himself." By the end of the spot, he was practically falling off his chair and so was Carson, who was finally unable to keep a straight puss. He had Brooks on again a few weeks later, introduced as some other dignitary, and Foster was launched on a new career.
He embarked on a stand-up act that was, I thought, pretty awful — old, slightly blue jokes that would have gotten tossed off the Playboy Party Jokes page for sophomoric content — but he did have that funny, intoxicated delivery. It kept him working, especially in casino rooms, for a long time. I saw what I think was his last Vegas engagement — at the Sahara, as part of Milton Berle's Comedy Roast of Sid Caesar (mentioned in this column) — and he got around 10 minutes of solid laughs from pretty dreadful material. The one joke I remember was how Tang, the breakfast drink, now came in different flavors and he liked the prune, because "every man loves a little Prune Tang." I suppose we should have a certain respect for a comedian who can build a whole career on one drunk act and jokes like that.
Michael Sangiacomo writes a good comic book review column for the Cleveland Plain-Dealer. In today's column, he has a brief-but-rave review of The Art of Nick Cardy, a splendid volume that has just been reissued following a sold-out pressing a year or two back. Here's a link to the review but ignore that line about Cardy, "who died earlier this year." The lovely Mr. Cardy is alive and well and surprised to hear of his demise.
Nope. We still don't know when The Game Show Network is going to rerun the two episodes of Press Your Luck in which an unemployed air conditioning mechanic named Michael Larsen figured out a way to beat the "wheel" for over $110,000. But the minute we do, we'll post that info here. And they'd better run them soon if they know what's good for themselves. (You're think a channel that runs The Newlywed Game 92 times a day could find time for something good.)
Here's a book that oughta have a big SPOILER WARNING on its cover. The Producers: The Book, Lyrics, and Story Behind the Biggest Hit in Broadway History! by Mel Brooks and Tom Meehan contains the complete libretto and lyrics to the hottest show in years, along with tons o' photos and anecdotes and historical notes and stuff. It not only reveals every joke in the show but some very funny ones that didn't get in. The "Making of…" parts are a bit too self-congratulatory but the volume is a great memory piece for anyone who's seen the show. And if you never will — or, at least, never will with Mssrs. Lane and Broderick in the leads — reading this and listening to the cast album is a not-completely-worthless substitute. Click here to buy a copy.
Not seeing Lane and Broderick is becoming increasingly-likely for many as their contract expiration date — mid-March — looms and the show remains sold out for months after. Lane is reported to be still nursing throat problems and committed to play Jackie Gleason (great, if obvious casting) in a movie. Broderick is contracted to play Harold Hill (strange casting) in a TV-movie remake of The Music Man.
The rumor mill says that both are still haggling to return to their roles — individually, if not collectively — at various times in the future. Since so much cash is being made there, the haggling is probably complex and includes a lot of arguing over how much of the show's success is attributable to its leads.
And I have no inside info on this but I can't believe someone hasn't discussed hauling in cameras and taping the proceedings for pay-per-view and eventual video release while the original stars are still ensconced. That would presumably complicate negotiations further…though it could also represent most folks' only shot at seeing Nathan and Matthew together. In the past, the taping of a Broadway show was never considered until it was nearing the end of its New York life…but the producers of The Producers are willing to give everything away in a book like this. Maybe they'd be unafraid to put the thing on TV while it's still at the St. James.
Josie and Dan DeCarlo at an NCS Award Show (Dan won)
Only a handful of men have drawn as many comic books as Dan DeCarlo. He was widely recognized as the supreme Archie artist. Didn't create the character, didn't even invent the broad strokes of the art style. But he did it so well that others were told, "Draw like Dan," and they all tried. He did create Josie (of Josie and the Pussycats) and co-created Sabrina the Teen-Age Witch. At the time of his death — alas, this morning — he was fighting a losing legal battle over those two successful properties. This is a hell of a thing to see happen to a man who drew such sexy girls and funny guys.
Dan was a charming man, impossible to dislike unless, perhaps, he was suing you. But maybe not even then. He lived cartooning and did it so well — and so often with little reward or recognition — that you couldn't help but love the guy.
Actually, in the last few years, he was starting to get some of the recognition he deserved. At comic conventions, the feeling towards him from his fans and fellow professionals was one of genuine love and respect. I'm sorry to see his life end when the recognition he deserved had so recently begun.
Over at the Telecharge website, whereupon one can theoretically, occasionally purchase tickets for The Producers on Broadway, they currently have the following two announcements up:
THE FIRST DATES AVAILABLE FOR ORCHESTRA SEATS ARE IN AUGUST, 2002!
Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick are currently contracted for performances only through March 17, 2002. At this time, the producers do not know if Nathan or Matthew will renew their contracts beyond this date. JUST A REMINDER – All sales are final and there will not be any refunds or exchanges.
When the show first opened, there was rampant speculation as to which Big Stars they'd bring in to replace Nathan and Matthew. Now, I'm wondering: What do they need Big Stars for? If they're sold out 'til next August and not giving refunds no matter who assumes the leads, why spring for someone who's going to expect a piece of the gross? Better to save those folks for whenever they start having empty seats…some time in 2003, maybe later…
This time, I'd like to call your attention to the Spinsanity piece, which finds errors of candor and omission in the above article by Mr. Scheer and the piece I recommended last time by Molly Ivins. Still, all three pieces make some valid points. I suspect Enron is one of those scandals which, like Whitewater, will be kept alive, not out of any thirst for justice but because it's politically useful to some.
Spinsanity is becoming one of my favorite sites — one that often mirrors my own point of view is that most folks on both sides of the political aisle are at least a little full of manure. How many sites besides mine have you seen that will direct your attention to articles by Robert Scheer and William Buckley?
I'm on a deadline and I didn't have anything in particular I wanted to post here, so I thought I'd throw together a quick update. The photo above was selected just because I thought it was kinda neat, and because I somehow neglected to say anything here upon the passing of George Harrison.
I wasn't the only one who took scant notice. Had the events of 9/11 not already plunged a lot of folks into a state of ongoing mourning — and made us thoroughly conscious of our own, meager mortalities — the death of another fourth of The Beatles would have been a major kick in the karma.
As I look at the above photo, I can't help but think what Ed Sullivan must have been thinking as it was taken…something along the lines of, "The people I have to put up with to keep my show high in the ratings." From all reports, America's Master Showman — at least on Sunday nights on CBS — had no special affection for any of the zillions of singers and comedians and jugglers and performing anthropoids who traipsed across the stage where Mr. Letterman now works. Ed just loved the success and the money and especially the fame. When in one famous network match-up, Steve Allen went head-to-head against him on NBC, a lot of TV reporters wagered heavily on Steverino. After all, it was Steve, the man who could do anything — sing, do jokes, play piano, write songs, etc. — against Ed, the man who couldn't even introduce Jack Carter without it coming out "Jack Carson." (My fave of all the reported Sullivan gaffes was the time he described an actress as "currently starving on Broadway.")
Sullivan was an appallingly amateurish host, but that was an indicator of his greatest skill: He was a survivor. When he first started hosting The Toast of the Town — later redubbed The Ed Sullivan Show — just about everyone on TV was appallingly amateurish. Ed just had the tenacity and drive that allowed him to stick around, long after the professionals had encamped. It was almost charming that he never got any better.
But he hung in there. He beat The Steve Allen Show because, I suspect, he had the greater need to succeed. After all, Allen knew that if his show got cancelled, there'd be another Steve Allen Show along, sooner or later — and there was. (There were several, in fact.) Sullivan, it is said, lived with the belief that his show was his one shot at being a famous, well-paid TV star. He believed — probably accurately — that once it went off, he'd be back to being just another sports/Broadway columnist in the increasingly less-lucrative newspaper industry. So he fought like mad, trampling over competitors to book the biggest stars, the hottest acts…which led to the night The Beatles graced his stage.
In the Billy Crystal movie, Mr. Saturday Night, the comedian character he played had the misfortune to be booked that night to precede John, Paul, Ringo and George. This meant facing an audience of hysterical teen-age girls who resented every second anyone not from Liverpool was on stage. Well, that happened…to my friends, Charlie Brill and Mitzi McCall, who were the luckless comedy team on that evening's show. Charlie can still wake up in a cold sweat, recalling the worst challenge any comic has ever faced.
But it made them a part of history…for something changed in America that night. When Elvis graced the Sullivan line-up — from the waist up — the change commenced, and when The Fab Four sang "She Loves You" or "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" or whatever they performed that night, the transformation was complete. The youth of the day had won, and the world would be all about them from that moment on…with the music of The Beatles often playing in the background.
I have no idea how much George Harrison had to do with this revolution, though I doubt he was carrying pictures of Chairman Mao. Perhaps he was just one of those historical figures who was fortunate enough to be near the epicenter when the Earth moved. Everyone seems to feel that John and Paul were the heart and brains of the band, not necessarily in that order.
Perhaps Mr. Harrison was just a good musician. His solo albums — which I seem to have liked more than a lot of rabid Beatles fans did — would bear that out. But, hey, he financed a couple of the better Monty Python projects and even put in a cameo in The Rutles…and I don't recall anyone ever saying anything bad about him. For that alone, we should weep for the man…that is, when we're not weeping for the sad fact that The Beatles, and therefore a lot of us, are now old men. Physically, at least.
They recently ran over at Salon Magazine a rather clumsily-conducted interview with Kurt Vonnegut that still managed to yield some wonderful quotes. My favorite — and this is one of those lines I'll probably be quoting myself often — is the one at the end of Mr. Vonnegut's reply below:
What is the purpose of life?
Well, I have a son who writes very well. He just wrote one book; it's called "The Eden Express." It's my son Mark, who is a pediatrician and who went crazy and recovered to graduate from Harvard Medical School. But anyway, he says, and I've quoted him in a couple of my books, "We're here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is."
I believe you need a Salon subscription to access the whole piece. This is another reason why that's well worth it.
My longtime friend Jack Enyart is teaching a course in how to create and pitch animation projects. If you're in L.A. and you want to learn that side of the biz, I can't imagine anyone who could tell you more than Jack. Details can be had over at www.gnomon3d.com.
Another of my best pals is a brilliant cartoonist named Carol Lay, who produces the pithy weekly feature, Story Minute. You can read it online at www.salon.com and at her own website. And if you go to her website, you can see other Carol-created goodies and you can order some Lay Goodies that you will want and love and treasure. So here's a banner ad for Carol's site. Click on it. Go there. Spend money. Laugh.
That's right. We're still waiting for The Game Show Network to rerun the two episodes of Press Your Luck in which an unemployed air conditioning mechanic named Michael Larsen figured out a way to beat the "wheel" for over $110,000. It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen on TV. We're told that GSN has the episodes and will soon announce when they'll air. They'd better.
