Here's an article that doesn't really answer its headline question, What the Hell Are You Supposed to Do With Your Vaccine Card? I sense there will come a moment when I will have to show it to gain admittance to something. But they'd be so easy to forge, I can't believe they'll be used a lot for that purpose.

This is an hour-long episode of Cher's 1975 variety series but I've set the video embed to start playing at the 39:06 mark. If you want to watch the first 39 minutes of the show, move the slider all the way to the left.

At the 39:06 mark, Cher introduces and reads a Rudyard Kipling poem illustrated by my best friend, Sergio Aragonés…and pronounces his name all wrong. The producer of this show was George Schlatter, who knew Sergio well and used him in many projects, often as an actor such as in the brief 1977 revival of Laugh-In and the 1976 movie, Norman, Is That You?

Thanks to Steve Thompson for alerting me that this was up on YouTube so I could alert Sergio and all of you…

• Whenever you are in a ZOOM conference, the default assumption is that no one is wearing pants. Including, probably, you.

Every so often on Facebook — hourly, it sometimes seems — someone uploads the above photo and asks what's it from and who everyone in it is. Often, they also ask if it's a shot from It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Taking the last of these first: No, it isn't, though three of the folks in the picture — Berle, Durante and Shawn — had significant roles in Mad World. It's from a Bob Hope TV special.

Recently, I uploaded a version of the photo to which I'd added captions to answer the other two questions. Someone who calls themselves "Herbert" (just Herbert) writes, in part…

Thank you for doing that but how about answering some questions for me? How many of the men in that photograph have you met? Which one was the funniest when you met him? Which was one do you think was the funniest comedian, regardless of whether you met him or not? Which one, regardless of whether you met him, struck you as the least funny?

Were any of the one you met rude to you? Which one were you most excited to meet?  Did any of them make you sad? Which one was the nicest?

Regardless of whether you met them, which one do you think was the richest?  How many of these people ever did voices for cartoons?  Which one would you have liked to dine with and talk to all evening?

Okay, here are some answers but first, let me remind everyone that if you click on the above photo, my larger and captioned version of it should open in your browser. Now, here we go…

I met Milton Berle, Soupy Sales, Dick Martin, Bob Hope, Jack Carter and Bill Dana.  The one I found funniest in our meeting(s) was Dick Martin.  The one I think was funniest…well, one of the most brilliant, hilarious things I ever saw on a stage was Dick Shawn's one-man show.  No one else in the picture ever made me laugh so much so I guess I'll say him. Least funny?  Well, Dan Rowan but he was mainly a straight man so he wasn't really in the business of being funny.

Rude? I met Jack Carter a few times and…well, he just seemed angry at everyone around him. I wrote about some of those encounters here. No one else among the six was rude in any way.

I was very excited to meet Soupy Sales because his TV show was so important to me when I was a kid.  The first few times I talked with him were not as wonderful as I might have wished because they were on the set of his 1978 syndicated "comeback" show.  The moments I chose to visit the stage often were moments when things were going wrong so Soupy rarely seemed to be in a good, affable mood. And then the last time I saw him in person was a few years after he had suffered an accident, falling down a flight of stairs. Thereafter, his speech and wit were impaired and it was very sad to see him like that and not easy to have much of a conversation.

It was also kind of exciting to meet Bob Hope, which I did on two occasions, because he was Bob Hope — and I wouldn't be surprised if he died with more wealth than all the others combined. The nicest of those I met would either be Dick Martin or Bill Dana.

Mr. Dana did some voices for cartoons, including on a Hanna-Barbera special that he also wrote. Jack Carter did voices on an ABC Weekend Special that I wrote.  Dick Shawn was a voice actor on the Rankin-Bass animated special, The Year Without a Santa Claus and Jimmy Durante was the narrator of the Rankin-Bass animated special, Frosty the Snowman.  Wally Cox was the voice of Underdog, Soupy was the voice of Donkey Kong on a Saturday morning cartoon and I'll bet most of the others did a cartoon voice somewhere or other.

I would have loved to talk to almost any of these guys at length.  I did have a couple of long conversations with Berle and he was fascinating because of all that history, including It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World and I could have done with more of that.  I guess I'd pick Mr. Robert Hope, though I wish I could have met Mr. James Durante.

My all-time favorite game show might just be I've Got a Secret, particularly the version that had Garry Moore as host with Bill Cullen, Henry Morgan, Bess Myerson and Betsy Palmer on the panel. Lots of old episodes run on cable channels and therefore turn up on YouTube.

Someone just posted a very early one with only Moore and Cullen from the above roster. The series started on June 19, 1952 so it was still in its formative stage on September 18 of that year when this episode aired. Keep in mind that this is live television, not pre-recorded television.

One thing that they eventually stopped doing — and it was a better show because they stopped — was that the producers stopped planting questions with the panelists who had to guess the secrets. They reportedly did not give the panelists the answers but they gave them questions they were supposed to ask innocently but which would be funny to the audience that knew what the secret was.

For instance, in this episode, the first contestant's secret is that her father jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge. The panel is told that her secret is "something her father did" and then the questioning starts with Mr. Melville Cooper, who almost immediately asks, "Is it something I could do?" (big laugh) and then "Do you think my wife would like me doing it?" (bigger laugh) Obviously, the producers told him to ask those things as if he just happened to think to ask them. (By the way: One of the those producers was Allan Sherman, co-creator of the program and later a singer of top-selling comedy records.)

They did a lot of this planting of questions on the show in its early days but stopped. Around 1956, it became a major scandal in this country that some of the quiz shows were rigged with contestants being given answers in advance and the producers controlling who won and lost, configuring the scenario for maximum excitement. Before the scandal exploded, there were rumblings that game shows weren't completely on the up-and-up so many shows even stopped that kind of question-planting.

Goodson-Todman, the company that produced I've Got a Secret and some others, stopped planting questions as these suspicions mounted. There was actually no way to really "rig" their shows because the winnings were of little importance. After all, on Secret the most a contestant could win was eighty dollars. But on this episode, they were still doing it and it gave a very phony air to the proceedings.

I have set this video embed to start with the second contestant of that evening. If you want to watch the first game — the one in which the contestant's father leaped off the Brooklyn Bridge — just move the little slider all the way to the left and the playback will start from the beginning. I did that because the second contestant is of great interest to me and, I'm supposing, many who read this site. It's Ham Fisher.

Ham Fisher was the guy responsible for the popular newspaper strip, Joe Palooka...or at least, Fisher's name was signed to it. Like another, unrelated Fisher — Bud Fisher, who did Mutt & Jeff — Ham Fisher started his strip and when it became successful, he hired others to write and draw it. One of the many who ghosted it was Al Capp, well before he created Li'l Abner. In the annals of comic strips and books, there may have been no two people who hated each other more than Al Capp and Ham Fisher, especially after Abner became a much more popular strip than Joe Palooka.

There were threats and invective and thinly-veiled attacks within their strips and it kinda reached its apex when someone began circulating photostats of Li'l Abner comic strips. They were charging that Capp had hidden pornographic imagery here and there…subtle but unmistakable.

It turned out that the alleged porn was not present in the strips when they ran in thousands of newspapers. There remains some question on how the naughty imagery got into the stats. Some say the strips were doctored; others say it was just artful cropping of what Capp had drawn. Either way, the stats were not legitimate evidence and the "someone" who was circulating them to try and hurt Capp turned out to be Ham Fisher.

Fisher was censured and ousted from the National Cartoonists Society for "conduct unbecoming a cartoonist." I think he's the only person who ever was even though some others — like, say, admitted rapist Al Capp — did far worse. Soon after, Ham Fisher committed suicide. Capp gloated that it was because of the ousting and humiliation…and that may have been a major reason but Fisher was in failing health and had just had his home destroyed in a storm. So maybe those factors entered into the man's decision to take his own life.

But here, we see Ham Fisher as a big celebrity on a highly-rated TV program a little more than three years before the end of that life. And if you want to keep watching after the Ham Fisher segment, the next contestant is the stunning actress Veronica Lake and the panel has to uncover her secret which was — and talk about your scandals! — that she thought her feet were too big.

• I think everyone should be required to wear masks…everyone except Matt Gaetz, of course. You don't need a mask when no one will come within six feet of you.

We lost another winner of the Bill Finger Award yesterday. In addition to 2009 recipient Frank Jacobs, we also lost 2018 honoree, Joye Murchison Kelly.  To quote the announcement of her choice to receive that trophy for Excellence in Comic Book Writing…

Joye Hummel Murchison Kelly was 20 years old in 1944 when she began working for Dr. William Moulton Marston on Wonder Woman. She had recently graduated from the Katherine Gibbs School in New York, where she had taken a psychology class from Dr. Marston. He had written almost all the scripts for his Amazon Princess and found himself in need of an assistant writer he could school in the precise way he wanted the heroine depicted, and Joye Hummel, as she was then named, learned quickly. Soon she was writing scripts on her own, mainly in Marston's New York office, where she also worked alongside Wonder Woman's artistic creator, Harry Peter. Like Marston's own stories, her work appeared in three publications — Wonder Woman, Sensation Comics, and Comic Cavalcade — under the house byline "By Charles Moulton," and none of it was credited to her. Her work appeared until 1947, and much of it has recently been reprinted to the delight of current readers. Ms. Kelly and her husband Jack will be traveling to Comic-Con so that she may accept her award in person and also appear on Saturday afternoon for a special spotlight interview: her first-ever visit to a comic book convention.

And what a delight it was to bring that woman out to California…to talk with her and her hubby Jack both in front of a packed audience and in private. I wrote about her panel at Comic-Con and linked to an audio of it here and a photo album of their visit was compiled by Anina Bennett and it can be viewed here.

One of my favorite Comic-Con memories — and I have a lot of Comic-Con memories, people — is how happy so many people were to meet them and how happy they were spending what Joye told me was "The best weekend of my life." Imagine having the Best Weekend of Your Life when you're 95 years old. She was 97 on Easter Sunday.

I would like to thank Richard Arndt for helping to connect with Joye and Jack so we could honor her. And I would like to thank Trina Robbins, Anina Bennett, Maggie Thompson, Jackie Estrada and all the other folks who made her visit such a delight…and I'd bet they'd all tell you the delight was theirs.

I believe we all awoke this morning to e-mails from Jack conveying the sad news. Those couldn't have been easy e-mails to write and send but Jack took great care of Joye and you could tell it was mutual. He has our thanks, our condolences and, I'm sure, a lot of spectacular memories of his own Wonder Woman.

Longtime MAD magazine writer Frank Jacobs passed away this morning at the age of 91. When Harvey Kurtzman stepped down as editor of MAD and was replaced by Al Feldstein, Frank was the first writer Feldstein bought material from and over the years, he and subsequent editors bought a lot of it from Frank.

That first piece of his for MAD appeared in #33, cover-dated June of 1957. He had work in 312 issues, making him the seventh most-prolific contributor to the magazine ever. (Beating him out: Jaffee, Aragonés, DeBartolo, Drucker, Coker and Berg.) Frank's last new work seems to have been in #529, cover-dated October of 2014. Work of his is reprinted in almost every issue of the last few years.

I thought he was not only the best writer of humorous verse and parody lyrics in MAD but in the whole world of comedy writing. He never got the recognition he deserved for all that brilliant work and that was one reason I was proud to present him with the Bill Finger Award at Comic-Con International in 2009. Another was that I really liked Frank. I learned a lot from him and I laughed a lot because of him — as did anyone who read more than a few issues of that magazine.

My favorite pundit/political reporter these days is Amanda Marcotte, who writes often and wisely over at Salon. The other day, she had an article up about this development I mentioned a few days ago: Declining church membership…

The drop in religious affiliation starts right around the time George W. Bush was elected president, publicly and dramatically associating himself with the white evangelical movement. The early Aughts saw the rise of megachurches with flashily dressed ministers who appeared more interested in money and sermonizing about people's sex lives than modeling values of charity and humility.

Not only were these religious figures and the institutions they led hyper-political, the outward mission seemed to be almost exclusively in service of oppressing others. The religious right isn't nearly as interested in feeding the hungry and sheltering the homeless as much as using religion as an all-purpose excuse to abuse women and LGBTQ people. In an age of growing wealth inequalities, with more and more Americans living hand-to-mouth, many visible religious authorities were using their power to support politicians and laws to take health care access from women and fight against marriage between same-sex couples. And then Donald Trump happened.

I think people look to religious leaders to rise above petty politics and matters of personal gain…and they aren't finding many. Almost everyone is looking like one of those TV evangelists who can find quotes in The Bible supporting the notion that God wants them to have a private jet and for you to pay for it.

Today, she has a piece up about "Cancel Culture," which is one of those terms like "Political Incorrectness" that I think a lot of people use with very different definitions from one another. Both terms strike me as sometimes employed in a literal sense and sometimes in a sarcastic sense…and always with the aim of stifling Free Speech under the guise of protecting Free Speech. Here is Ms. Marcotte…

Many a tear has been shed over wealthy actors losing plum gigs for embarrassing movie studios with their bigoted tweets, or obscure books by famous authors being delisted voluntarily by their own publishing companies, or people making fun of a paranoid right-wing couple in St. Louis who pulled guns on peaceful protesters, or the librarian whose boss prevented her from humiliating herself by doing a rap presentation to onboard college freshmen. Free speech, they argue, is dependent not just on the absence of censorship, but the absence of any consequences whatsoever, including criticism from others who are using their free speech rights. It turns out there was one caveat to this right to speech unfettered by opposition, criticism, or consequences, however: It is a "right" enjoyed only by those on the right.

I still think Free Speech involves your right to say something stupid and my right to say that what you said was stupid…or vice-versa. I also think you're not standing on any principle relating to Free Speech when you're fighting for people to be able to say things you agree with. When someone complains that singers or actors or athletes should STFU about politics and just sing, act or play, it never seems to be about the singers, actors or athletes who support the complainer's side.

We were about due for another tune from Randy Rainbow…

A new fad on YouTube is to compile videos of what you consider the Top 100 Broadway Songs of All Time. Someone who calls himself Mister Lister has compiled this one. I don't expect you to agree with his rankings — I don't — but you might enjoy spending an hour listening to a teensy excerpt of each. And the video is very well edited.

I've seen about a dozen of these online, some of which have been taken down due to alleged copyright infringements. All the ones I've seen show a preference for recent musicals, especially Hamilton, Wicked, The Book of Mormon, Dear Evan Hansen and Les Miz. In fact, every one I've looked at has more selections from Hamilton than from the entire collaborative works that involved Richard Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein or both. The list compilers are of course entitled to their opinions but you wonder how much of their selections have to do with what speaks more directly to their generation…or maybe they just haven't seen that many shows.

Mr. Lister's Top 100 here has, I think, one Lerner and Loewe song, not much Sondheim, one Cole Porter, no Meredith Willson, lotsa Lloyd-Webber, etc. His rules for inclusion exclude instrumentals and shows that never played Broadway. He says songs written for movies are ineligible but he includes "You're the One That I Want," which was written for the movie of Grease. Some of the other lists don't have the same rules. One I saw includes some of the Four Seasons' songs heard in Jersey Boys and "Singin' in the Rain," which was not only not written for the stage, it wasn't even written for the movie, Singin' in the Rain.

But hey, they're all just someone's list. When you make up your list, you can make up your rules at the same time. Your list wouldn't match mine, mine wouldn't match yours…or even mine if I redid it tomorrow. Just enjoy the excerpts and don't bitch that so many of your favorites aren't in this…

Earlier today, I canceled my online subscription to The New York Times…but not because I no longer wish to read it. Lately, I've been canceling a lot of my subscriptions to various online services, mainly to see what kind of offer I get to not cancel. I'm still a subscriber but now I'm paying a lot less.

I joined a few years back at a very nice "introductory" rate but when I wasn't paying attention — i.e., reading every one of the dozens e-mails I got a week from them — they quietly raised the cost on me a few times. I couldn't help but notice that the Times recently ran a scathing exposé on the Donald Trump organization for doing something similar to campaign donors.

I'm way overdue for a Pussycat Report, telling you the latest on the feral cats that live in my backyard. The last one was back in those halcyon pre-Pandemic days, all the way back on 2/1/2020. At that point, I was down to one permanent tenant and one occasional and very loud demanding visitor. The visitor cat was one which both a neighbor and I, quite independent of one another, both named Murphy. The permanent tenant, who has been living 'n' dining here since some time in 2007, is Lydia, named for the famed tattooed lady once romanced by the eminent attorney J. Cheever Loophole.

Murphy has not been seen or heard from in some time but Lydia is still in more-or-less eternal residence. She occasionally goes unseen for a couple of days and is not overly-famished when she does show up so I assume she's found somewhere else nearby to grab a meal once in a while.

The above photo was taken of her one time when she did seem hungry.  If you listen carefully, you can hear her say, "Put down the damned camera and fill the bowl, lackey!"  (I'm kidding, of course.  She hardly ever calls me "lackey.")

She's pretty much lived alone out there since Murphy skidoodled but every now and then, a Mystery Cat has turned up once or twice and Lydia has tolerated or perhaps welcomed its presence.  Until this morning.

A cat with fur the color of Donald Trump's hair was out there this morning, lying in a sunny spot by the pool.  I think it had also helped itself to Lydia's supper dish.  Whatever the reason, Lydia didn't want it around  and made it feel most unwelcome by staring daggers and slowly advancing on it.  The New Cat was younger and larger but it opted to not mess with Lydia.  It backed off, then turned and fled over the back fence.  If it knows what's good for it, it won't be back.

Lydia took a little victory lap, strutting around the backyard which she has clearly defined as her turf.  Then she settled down in roughly the same sunny spot in the sun and resumed the never-ending task of licking herself.  Don't mess with her.

When will Broadway reopen? Well, last night it did…for 36 minutes. Hey, it's a start.

A baby otter with his or her mommy…