Bill and Hillary Clinton have applied for reimbursement for certain legal expenses relating to the Whitewater investigation.  I'm guessing they are less interested in the money than in tweaking the noses of all those Republicans who have trouble admitting that it uncovered no wrongdoing whatsoever on their parts.  In any case, for what seems like a good explanation of the legalities of such reimbursements — and why the Clintons may not receive theirs — check out this article by John W. Dean.

At the Comic-Con International in San Diego, I introduced Ray Bradbury and Julius Schwartz on a wonderful panel and also brought up comics legend Al Feldstein to meet Bradbury for the first time, fifty years after adapting his stories for the pages of EC comics.  A couple of those gents would love to have photos of the panel or the meeting or both.  If you took one, would you please contact me?  Thanks.

Also: Some time ago, for no visible reason, I registered the domain name, www.comicbookwriter.com.  Don't bother clicking on it because it just forwards you to the front page of this site.  I guess I just claimed the name because no one else had and I thought I might figure out some good use for it.  Well, I haven't.  Do you have any brilliant ideas for a great site that should be at that address?  Keeping in mind that I don't have the time to do anything for it?  If so, I'd be glad to sell the web address or lease it for no profit, just so it doesn't go to someone who ruthlessly exploits professional or aspiring comic book scribes.

Do you like to look at photos of old coffee shops and motels and such?  A very nice display of them can be seen at the website for Roadside Magazine.  Here's a direct link to the piece.

My pal Steven Grant is one of the better writers of comic books, among other things.  And among the other things is a regular column over at Comic Book Resources.  It's always interesting but the current installment — which is about his occasional collaborator, the late and great Gil Kane — is especially fine reading.  Here comes the link.

One of the many wonderful qualities that Lorenzo Music possessed was his tendency and talent for putting people together and fomenting friendships.  So it was fitting and, in an odd way, appropriately comforting that his passing should continue the practice.  Shortly after posting an obit here, I began to hear from folks who knew him — some, more-or-less strangers to me; others, old friends with whom I hadn't communicated in a long time.  It's unfortunate that it sometimes takes a tragedy to put people back in touch but, well, it does.

You'd be genuinely amazed how many e-mails I received regarding the obit I wrote.  On the other hand, it took five days before any of those folks pointed out to me that in one part, I called his wonderful spouse Henrietta — which is correct — and in another, Harriet, which is not.  I apologize, Henrietta, and I've corrected it. (This is what happens when you type with moist eyes.)

Want to read another, more detailed bio on Lorenzo?  Craig Crumpton, who is a wise and informed scholar of the cartoon voice biz, has one at his site.  You can reach it by clicking here.  And some words from Jim Davis can be read on the Garfield website.

And yet another damned obituary: Jerry DeFuccio passed away last night.  Jerry was a veteran of EC Comics, having worked as an assistant editor, researcher and occasional writer for Harvey Kurtzman's war comics during their "golden" period.  When Mad Magazine got up and running, Jerry became one of its Associate Editors and remained there for more than 25 years.  (A few years after he departed, he resurfaced for a brief time at Cracked).

Anyone who visited the Mad offices during his years there probably met and spent time with Jerry.  He was the magazine's historian, researcher and unofficial greeter.  He was also a devout student of comic book history who was responsible for unearthing much that is today known about vintage funnybooks.  He was very nice to me when I first ventured into the halls of Mad, as he was to just about everyone.  I wish I had more info on his life to pass along here…

Christopher Hewett passed away last week.  He was best known for playing the title role on the situation comedy, Mr. Belvedere, which — I was surprised to just learn — was on ABC for five whole years.

I have, you may be shocked to know, an anecdote about working with Mr. Hewett, albeit briefly.  In 1983, I was writing a show for ABC and a cameo appearance was arranged with the stars of Fantasy Island in the interest of network solidarity and cheesy cross-promotion.  Hewett had just joined the cast (replacing Herve Villechaize as Mr. Roarke's sidekick) so he and Ricardo Montalban came by to tape a couple of short bits. When Hewett came into the room, I couldn't resist: In my best Gene Wilder simulation, I muttered, "Max, he's wearing a dress."  There was a pause as everyone else in the room looked at me like I was more insane than usual.  None of them got the reference.  None of them recalled that Christopher Hewett played the effeminate director, Roger DeBris, in Mel Brooks's classic movie, The Producers.

Mr. Hewett, fortunately, threw back his head and howled with laughter.  We talked a bit about the film — "A great honor…my one disappointment was that they wouldn't allow me to keep the wardrobe" — and about his then-recent stint on stage, playing Captain Hook to Sandy Duncan in Peter Pan.  He was a wonderful Hook, wallowing in villainy and masterfully goading the audience into hissing his every move.  And though his off-camera manner made Roger DeBris look dead butch, his on-stage piracy was right in masculine character.  (I have seen some Hooks whose feet touched the floor less often than Peter's.)

After praising his performance in that, I was groping for something else to say and I hit upon, "Was that your first time on Broadway?"

Given his résumé, It was an incredibly-stupid question but he was ever-so-polite in how he told me that.  "Oh, no, dear boy," he said.  "I've trod those boards many a time."

"Really?"  I asked.  "What was your first Broadway show?"

He said, "My Fair Lady."  And I could tell he wasn't talking about any revival.  He meant the original version; the one with Rex Harrison and Julie Andrews.

I looked it up when I got home.  Sure enough, he originated the role of Zoltan Karpathy, the Hungarian linguistics professor who threatens to expose Eliza Doolittle when Higgins takes her to the ball.  It was a smaller role on stage than it was in the movie, but hell, even a cameo in that show was theatrical history.

He appeared thereafter in dozens of theatrical productions, many of them on Broadway, and in the occasional film and TV role until he joined Fantasy Island.  After that show went off, Mr. Belvedere made him a star and, I'd suspect, a very wealthy man.  It is an odd irony of show business that someone can devote a lifetime to the stage and have it as their first love…and then they do a sitcom or a commercial and achieve near-instant fame and fortune.  (Sir Laurence Olivier, it is said, made more money in three years doing commercials for Polaroid Cameras than he did in all his Shakespearean appearances, combined.)

So it was a bit sad to see all those obits that spoke only of Hewett's TV work.  There are those out there who consider My Fair Lady the greatest musical ever produced on stage and The Producers, the funniest movie ever made.  Most actors go their entire lives without being in anything as wonderful as either of those…and Christopher Hewett, may he rest in peace, was part of both.

As a wallower in Watergate lore, I feel a tingle at the news that technicians may be able to recover the audio on the infamous 18-and-a-half minute gap on one of Nixon's tapes.  For those of you who've forgotten or never knew: One of the tapes that was subpoenaed in the Watergate investigation was of the first conversation that President Nixon had with his Chief of Staff, H.R. Haldeman, following the Watergate break-in.  The presumption was that, if Nixon had prior knowledge of the criminal activity, that was when it would have been mentioned.  But the tape in question turned out to have a long section in which the audio was erased — deliberately so, said the experts.

Personally, I feel that various memos and other bits of evidence that have since surfaced have pretty well proved that Nixon knew of and probably ordered that such activities be conducted.  He may not have known of the specific break-in plans but he knew.  Nevertheless, the case is not airtight, so his partisans can still deny it.  I remain skeptical that the audio can be resurrected but it sure would be nice to settle the matter definitively.

The Charlie Rose Show, which has lately been sans Charlie Rose, is advertising Jon Stewart for this evening.  He's always a great guest (great host, too) so you might want to tune it in.  If this is too-short notice, most PBS stations rerun Mr. Rose's program the following day, often in the wee small hours.  Since this is a Friday show, that could mean Monday morning.

In 1967, the Rankin-Bass studio brought forth an odd stop-motion animation movie called Mad Monster Party.  It was allegedly co-written by the brilliant cartoonist who created Mad Magazine, Harvey Kurtzman.  Kurtzman later claimed that he only worked a brief time on it and that little of what he did was used, but others involved in the project say he was underestimating.  There is no doubt however that his associate, the equally-brilliant Jack Davis, did a lot of the character designs, and that the voices were provided by Boris Karloff, Phyllis Diller, Gale Garnett and — most of all — Allen Swift.

The resultant film has moments of wacky wonderment though, like all movies involving stop-motion animation, I find it hard to watch from start to finish.  In increments, however, it's too weird not to like.  So I'm ordering the brand-new, just-released DVD and if you'd like to do so, click here.

And if you'd like to learn more about the film, here's a banner ad to a website that seems to know all, except how to spell Allen Swift's first name…

As this article in L.A. Weekly notes, the Motion Picture Academy ought to dump Price-Waterhouse as the accounting firm which tabulates its annual Oscar ballots.  You wouldn't trust those boys with your nephew's piggy bank.

When he he was a beginning actor, Stan Freberg did a number of odd roles.  He has a small but important part in Callaway Went Thataway, a lightweight 1951 comedy with Fred MacMurray, Howard Keel and Dorothy McGuire that runs the evening of August 13 on Turner Classic Movies.  (6 PM or 9 PM, depending on your time zone.)  The film was produced, written and/or directed by Norman Panama and Melvin Frank, who were responsible for — among other classics — the Li'l Abner Broadway show and movie.  It's most interesting for Freberg's brief appearance, a fine supporting role by Jesse White and a brief cameo by Clark Gable.

Interested in the ongoing war between Disney and the folks who controlled the merchandising rights to Winnie the Pooh?  If so, click quickly on this link and hustle to the website of Los Angeles Magazine.  It's a long piece but worth your attention.  (By the by: None of these articles ever seem to mention it but the woman suing Disney, Shirley Slesinger Lasswell, is not just the widow of Stephen Slesinger, former Pooh merchandising agent.  Her second husband, also deceased, was cartoonist Fred Lasswell, who did the Snuffy Smith newspaper strip for just shy of sixty years.  Interesting sidelight.)

Eric Forman sends in this link to another story of airport security guards who do stupid things that don't make us one bit safer.  Don't anyone else bother sending any more of these.  This is the last one I'm posting here.  But thanks, Eric.  You've helped me make my point.

And here's a link to an interesting article by Joshua Micah Marshall about the odd correlation (or lack of one) between the popularity of the Bush administration and its achievements.  I agree with most of it…I think.  Some of the comments lately by Bush supporters remind me of a comment Michael Kinsley made on TV at about this point in Clinton's first term.  I can't find the precise text but it went something like, "I know this guy's about to let us all down and see his popularity plunge, but I want to deny that as long as I can."

Just watched a 1977 Saturday Night Live episode — the one hosted by the 80 year old grandmother, Miskel Spillman, who won their "Anyone Can Host" contest.  In the opening, two cast members were playing themselves backstage, discussing the show that was just starting…

JOHN BELUSHI

What if she forgets her lines?

LARAINE NEWMAN

Oh, don't worry, she won't. Let me tell you something. You should be as together when you're eighty as Mrs. Spillman is.

JOHN BELUSHI

Don't worry. I'll be dead by thirty.

Only missed it by three years.

I am of the opinion that "increased security measures" at airports are a sham; that, in an effort to look like something's changed, they're doing a lot of things that grossly inconvenience law-abiding folks…but not a damned thing that will prevent a terrorist from boarding with weaponry.

BBC News is reporting that security screeners at LAX recently disarmed a G.I. Joe doll, confiscating a two-inch plastic rifle as a possible weapon.  I am not making this up.  Click on the link if you don't believe me.

This outdoes an incident earlier this year at an airport in Abu Dhabi.  There, as the BBC News then reported, officials disarmed the guy who plays the cowboy in the Village People for possession of his stage prop pistol.  They actually threw him in jail…which is perhaps where he and his co-stars belong, though not for that.

Interesting article over at Animation World Network about some of the rumors and reports that disparage Walt Disney.  There certainly are a lot of stories about the man and, since every single person I've ever met who knew Walt has spoken well of him, I tend to believe the version most favorable to him.  That is also, usually, the version that makes the most sense.

Republicans once complained about Bill Clinton using recess appointments to bypass Congress and install Bill Lann Lee in a post in the Justice Department.  Now, Democrats are complaining about Bush using recess appointments to bypass Congress and put Thomas Dorr in a job in the Department of Agriculture.  At the same time, Republicans who once protected Senator Alfonse D'Amato from punishment (or even much embarrassment) over his ethical violations are complaining, correctly, that Democrats are protecting Senator Robert Torricelli from punishment (or even much embarrassment) for similar breaches.

Add to this the fact that, once upon a time, Republicans felt that every nook and cranny of Whitewater absolutely had to be investigated and, when it was and no Clintonian wrongdoing was uncovered, it all had to be investigated again and again.  Democrats said, "Hey, it's old news, already cleared," but now it's Republicans saying that about old Bush/Cheney business deals and it's the Democrats saying, "This has to be investigated."

You can cite other examples as easily as I can.  The point is that none of this has anything to do with taking a position on principles.  It's all about getting the other guy and saying whatever it takes to make that happen, and everybody knows that.

I'm still waiting for the prominent politician who can rise above this…the one who'll put principle over party, even if if means standing up for The Enemy and/or missing opportunities to bash them.  And despite my cynicism, I think that person is going to come along in the next few years…because, if he or she does, he or she is going to have two-thirds of the nation behind them.

A very talented writer and actor named Lorenzo Music died yesterday following months of brutal, heart-breaking illness.  He was — like his distinctive, well-known speaking voice — unique.  Those who cast him as a voiceover performer often said that just to hear him, no matter what the script or ad copy, was curiously comforting and satisfying.  That was absolutely true, and it was an extension of the man himself.  He walked through life with a warming aura of creativity about him…one that enveloped all who came near.  To be in his presence was to feel smarter, wittier, more creative and, of course, happier — all by osmosis.  He had so many gifts, one body could not contain them all.  They were always leaking out, enriching others.  He was just one of those people it was great to be around.

Lorenzo was born May 2, 1937 in Brooklyn, though he grew up in Duluth, Minnesota.  Much later, he attended the University of Minnesota there and became enormously active in the school's Theatre Arts classes and community.  He also became enormously active with a lovely female drama student named Henrietta.  Together, they started a comedy act that lasted eight years and a life partnership that continued indefinitely, through four children.

In 1967, he switched from performing to writing when he joined the staff of the legendary Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour on CBS — although he managed to occasionally sneak onto camera, often with his banjo or ukulele.  The show's writers won Emmys in 1969 but Lorenzo decided that variety shows were dying out and that he'd better drum up some credits in situation comedy.  To that end, he and his partner, David Davis, accepted a low-level staff position on a new sitcom called The Mary Tyler Moore Show.  By the second season, they were story editors on what would be hailed as one of the all-time greatest television comedies and were charged by the production company, MTM, with creating a new series for comedian Bob Newhart.  Lorenzo co-created, produced and wrote for his third "TV classic" in a row when he and Davis concocted The Bob Newhart Show, featuring Dr. Robert Hartley and his odd style of psychiatrics. And Lorenzo and Henrietta composed the show's theme song.

Their next project was to develop and produce Rhoda, a spin-off from The Mary Tyler Moore Show.  It was on this series that Lorenzo returned to performing, supplying the voice of the unseen, perpetually inebriated doorman, Carlton.  Later on, an attempt to develop a prime-time animated series called Carlton, Your Doorman was unsuccessful, though the pilot won an Emmy as the best animated special of its season.

I first met Lorenzo when I was called in to write what would have been the second episode of Carlton's show. I found him to be a bright, friendly gent who was brimming with ideas, not just about comedy writing but the world around him.  Way too much time was wasted, talking about things that had nothing to do with the job at hand…but it wasn't really wasted. Time spent with Lorenzo was never wasted.  He had a way of throwing an idea your way — or, perhaps, introducing you to someone from his wide and diverse list of friends — and letting the magic, if any, evolve.

Professionally, he began to take more interest in performing.  That was how the Carlton cartoon show came about, as he did not see himself as an on-camera player, especially after a syndicated talk show he co-hosted with Henrietta was hastily terminated.  While doing the pilot for the Carlton series, he came up, almost half-heartedly, with the idea of doing a live-action sitcom set in an animation studio.  By way of research, he toured Hanna-Barbera Studios where a casting director to ask him to audition for a role on the Pac-Man series that was then in production.  He won the part, which prompted him to put his writing-producing career aside, at least for a while, and devote his energies to voiceover work.  (The premise of a comedy set in an animation studio later emerged from the MTM studio as The Duck Factory, written by others using none of Lorenzo's ideas.)

Soon, Lorenzo Music had one of the most-heard voices in radio and television.  He would eventually be heard on several more cartoon shows, including The Real Ghostbusters and Gummi Bears, and on hundreds of commercials and voiceover spots.  His most famous performances came, however, when he was selected as the voice of Jim Davis's well-syndicated feline superstar, Garfield the Cat.

Lorenzo was not that character's first voice.  That honor belonged to Scott Beach, a San Francisco radio personality who spoke for Garfield when the cat was first animated for a brief TV appearance.  When CBS ordered up an entire Garfield special, Davis — not quite happy with the choice that had been made — inaugurated a major casting search for the perfect, permanent sound.  Hundreds of actors were heard and re-heard before Lorenzo tried-out and Jim said, almost instantaneously, "That's the one."  Thereafter, Lorenzo spoke for Garfield on more than a dozen prime-time animated specials (one of which he co-wrote, and several of which won Emmys) and on the Saturday morning Garfield and Friends show, which was on CBS for seven years.

As the writer (and later, co-producer and voice director) of the Saturday show, I was reunited with Lorenzo and came to truly appreciate his acting abilities.  He was a thinking performer who would instantly grasp what had been written and, as often as not, come up with a way to maximize the humor.  His suggestions were nearly always good, and contributed to making Garfield a truly memorable animated personality.

During this period, Lorenzo came up with the gimmick of keeping his visage from public view…a notion that flowed from all the curiosity he'd aroused when playing the never-seen Carlton on Rhoda.  Thereafter, his publicity photos showed him in silhouette, or with something in front of his face, and he declined all TV interviews that would not present him that way.  Although he had appeared occasionally on TV before, the stunt had its intended effect of arousing attention.  People began wondering about the face that went with the voice and he often chuckled that he was becoming "semi-famous" for not being seen.  He received several lucrative proposals to appear on-camera in movies and TV shows or as a commercial spokesperson and was forever considering them but always opting to wait for a better offer.  (He once likened it to a great dramatic actor waiting for the right role before he'd perform without his hairpiece.  He'd say, "I'm not showing my face for this one.")

Lorenzo was an enormously versatile, brilliant man with interests in a hundred different directions and talents he never had time to fully flex.  He wrote music and poetry, he produced short stories for his own and his friends' enjoyment, and he even participated in a dance troupe.  For a time, he donated one night per week to taking calls on a suicide hot line.  The callers never knew his identity but occasionally, one of them would be pouring out a story — "my wife left me, I'm broke, I have an incurable disease," etc. — and would suddenly blurt out, "Hey, you know you sound like that cat on TV?"

A few months ago, Lorenzo began having health problems.  Initially misdiagnosed, they soon turned out to all be related to cancer that had infiltrated his system and spread across his spine and into various nooks of his body.  A lot of us knew the end was near when he told us his spine was "riddled with cancer."  Any time you hear the word, "riddled," it ain't good.  The disease had been, for a time, undetected…up until a visit he paid to a health spa.  While being lifted on a massage table by a masseuse, Lorenzo's back broke and doctors subsequently spotted the deterioration.  Additional problems quickly followed — a rather horrifying list of them.  Still, when I visited him in the hospital, he initially sounded as strong and determined as if he were in for a simple tonsillectomy.  The facts of his case suggested he hadn't long to live but, until about a week ago, his spirit and resolve suggested otherwise.  Sadly, the facts won out.

It's customary to end these things by writing something like, "Fortunately, he will be with us forever…in reruns of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Rhoda, The Bob Newhart Show and other programs he wrote, and reruns of Rhoda, Garfield, The Real Ghostbusters, The Gummi Bears and other shows on which he performed.  He also leaves behind a terrific family, a legacy of friends who were introduced to one another and inspired by his kindness, and a whole lot of fans."  And of course, all that is true.  But to those of you who never had the chance to know him, I have to say…

I'm sorry.  The work was wonderful, and I know you'll enjoy watching it again and again and again.  But being around Lorenzo Music was even better.

---

IN MEMORY OF LORENZO MUSIC
His family has requested that anyone wishing to
make a donation in his name do so to:
The Subud International Cultural Association
5828 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90036