The Andrew Lloyd Webber musical Cats was derived from the 1939 Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot. Webber began developing the material in the late seventies and the show, produced by Cameron Mackintosh, directed by Trevor Nunn and choreographed by Gillian Lynne opened at the New London Theatre in the West End in 1981 and at the Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway in 1982. The London version ran for 21 years (8,949 performances) and the Broadway one for 18 years (7,485 performances).

I did not see any of those 16,434 performances.

It's not that I don't like cats (the real kind). I love cats. As you may know, I've fed an awful lot of them in my backyard. I just fed Lydia out there, as I've been doing for something like eighteen years now, and I fed others before her. But I've never seen Cats on stage.

Avoiding the British staging was easy since I have never been to the United Kingdom. But avoiding the New York version was also not difficult. When I was in town during those 18 years, I just went to other shows. I was never in Manhattan long enough to see every single show on Broadway, nor did they all interest me. There were always enough shows that seemed more enticing…and since Cats seemed to have permanent residence, it was always a matter of "Well, maybe I'll catch that on my next trip or the one after…" Once its original cast and Betty Buckley had moved on, I had no reason to think, "I'd better see it now."

Eventually, it was like those TV shows that sit unwatched for months — even years — on my TiVo. I was interested enough to have them recorded but not interested enough to watch them so eventually, I deleted them. I walked past the Winter Garden Theatre in New York every trip east for a decade and a half and never felt the slightest urge to buy a ticket. Finally, I suppose I decided, "I guess I'm not interested enough in that." I know I felt that way about touring productions in Los Angeles and, I think, other cities where it was playing when I visited.

Would I have liked it? Hated it? I don't know.

The show got fairly good reviews when it opened. It won many awards, including a Tony for Best Musical. I knew people who saw it and loved it. I also knew some actors of the kind who work in musical theatre who had such affection for real cats that they dreamed of singing and dancing dressed as cats. A few of them did and I didn't go to see them.

The point I'm trying to make here is that it's humanly possible to have absolutely no opinion of Cats. All you have to do is not see it.

I have encountered people who didn't seem to know that. They went because they thought if something is popular enough, you have to purchase a ticket and go. Like it's mandatory or something. A few loved it, a few were indifferent but a fair number of them hated it — and it wasn't just "I didn't care for the show." It was more like, "There is something gravely wrong with humanity if that show exists, let alone is considered a smash hit."

I understand hating someone who harmed your loved ones. I understand hating someone who did something evil to you. I even understand hating a politician who you believe is harming the world and causing people to suffer. I don't think "hating" is a good way to go about it and I honestly don't think I hate anyone or anything unless, of course, it's a salad consisting primarily of finely-shredded raw cabbage with dressing. But I can understand why some people hate.

I just don't understand why anyone would hate a musical comedy the way some people I've encountered hate Cats.

I can think of one guy I met once at a party…I think if you murdered one or both of his parents and then staged a production of Cats, he would be angrier over the latter. He was screaming about how everyone involved in its making should be immediately spayed or neutered. A lady at the same party was convinced that no human being anywhere ever liked it, including the people who voted it Best Musical or bought the tickets to those 16,434 performances. She had not been to see it but, come on. People singing and dancing dressed as cats? How could that not stink?

Or so she felt.

I continued to have no opinion whatsoever of Cats, that show I had not seen. I did though form an opinion of people who couldn't shut up about how much they hated it, and it was not a favorable opinion…of them.

Fortunately, such talk died down as there were fewer and fewer instances of Cats being performed. But under the heading of "Here We Go Again," they recently made a movie of it.

Is the movie any good? I don't know. Attendance is still not mandatory. My pal Leonard Maltin liked it on the stage but felt much of the magic went away on the screen, though he did recommend it for families and said his wife liked it. Other folks though I see on the 'net are hysterical with rage that it was even made. Many are celebrating that it seems to be a failure at the box office, which as we all know is sometimes the case with movies we love.

You have every right to not like it, especially if you actually gave it a chance and saw it. I might not like it if and when I ever see it…and I might see it. The nice thing about movies in the era of home video is that they never go away. You cannot go now and see the original Broadway production of Cats. As once did not seem possible, it finally closed. But the movie will always be around and it will be exactly the same if I watch it twenty years from now. But I may get to it a lot sooner.

This is the time of year when my mailbox is full of "screener" copies of new film releases. Cats hasn't shown up yet but it still might…and there will always be the option of buying it or renting it or streaming it or whatever way Hollywood next invents to sell us movies. I'm thinking I may bring Lydia in from the back yard to watch it with me.

Here's a nice rendition of Tom Lehrer's season-appropriate tune, performed by David Wall and the Art of Time Ensemble from Toronto…

As I've written here before, I think that among the phoniest of phony outrages is when someone claims that someone else has stopped them from saying "Merry Christmas." I absolutely understand why some businesses tell their salespeople to use more inclusive greetings like "Happy Holidays" or "Best wishes for the Holidays!" or "Joy to the World." It's another way of saying you welcome the spending of the few non-Christians who might think there's an implied exclusion in "Merry Christmas."

I think it's dumb, when someone says "Merry Christmas" to you to think they're suggesting something of the sort. But I think it's a lot dumber to think that "Happy Holidays" is a negative…about the institution of Christmas or anything else. When You-Know-Who in the White House brags he's changed America so it's safe to say "Merry Christmas" again, he might as well be saying "I've reversed the ban on chocolate ice cream!"

I just saw a clip of him on TV taking credit for the M.C. ban. This is a time of year when there should be Peace on Earth. Actually, all times are good times for Peace on Earth but we'll never get there if we can't do it in the latter half of December. We should not be looking to demonize people who express benevolent sentiments just because they're not the "right" benevolent sentiments. And that's the last I'll say about You-Know-Who here until December 26 unless he does something really, really hateful or criminal. Please…be good to each other.

This is the most popular thing I've ever posted on this weblog. In fact, it's so popular that proprietors of other sites have thought nothing of just copying the whole thing and posting it on their pages, often with no mention of me and with the implication that they are the "I" in this tale. Please don't do that — to me or anyone. By all means, post a link to it but don't just appropriate it and especially don't let people think it's your work. This is the season for giving, not taking.

Yes, it's true…and I was very happy to learn from two of Mel Tormé's kids that their father had happily told them of the incident. Hearing that was my present…

I want to tell you a story…

The scene is Farmers Market — the famed tourist mecca of Los Angeles. It's located but yards from the facility they call, "CBS Television City in Hollywood"…which, of course, is not in Hollywood but at least is very close.

Farmers Market is a quaint collection of bungalow stores, produce stalls and little stands where one can buy darn near anything edible one wishes to devour. You buy your pizza slice or sandwich or Chinese food or whatever at one of umpteen counters, then carry it on a tray to an open-air table for consumption.

During the Summer or on weekends, the place is full of families and tourists and Japanese tour groups. But this was a winter weekday, not long before Christmas, and the crowd was mostly older folks, dawdling over coffee and danish. For most of them, it's a good place to get a donut or a taco, to sit and read the paper.

For me, it's a good place to get out of the house and grab something to eat. I arrived, headed for my favorite barbecue stand and, en route, noticed that Mel Tormé was seated at one of the tables.

Mel Tormé. My favorite singer. Just sitting there, sipping a cup of coffee, munching on an English Muffin, reading The New York Times. Mel Tormé.

I had never met Mel Tormé. Alas, I still haven't and now I never will. He looked like he was engrossed in the paper that day so I didn't stop and say, "Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you how much I've enjoyed all your records." I wish I had.

Instead, I continued over to the BBQ place, got myself a chicken sandwich and settled down at a table to consume it. I was about halfway through when four Christmas carolers strolled by, singing "Let It Snow," a cappella.

They were young adults with strong, fine voices and they were all clad in splendid Victorian garb. The Market had hired them (I assume) to stroll about and sing for the diners — a little touch of the holidays.

"Let It Snow" concluded not far from me to polite applause from all within earshot. I waved the leader of the chorale over and directed his attention to Mr. Tormé, seated about twenty yards from me.

"That's Mel Tormé down there. Do you know who he is?"

The singer was about 25 so it didn't horrify me that he said, "No."

I asked, "Do you know 'The Christmas Song?'"

Again, a "No."

I said, "That's the one that starts, 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…'"

"Oh, yes," the caroler chirped. "Is that what it's called? 'The Christmas Song?'"

"That's the name," I explained. "And that man wrote it." The singer thanked me, returned to his group for a brief huddle…and then they strolled down towards Mel Tormé. I ditched the rest of my sandwich and followed, a few steps behind. As they reached their quarry, they began singing, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" directly to him.

A big smile formed on Mel Tormé's face — and it wasn't the only one around. Most of those sitting at nearby tables knew who he was and many seemed aware of the significance of singing that song to him. For those who didn't, there was a sudden flurry of whispers: "That's Mel Tormé…he wrote that…"

As the choir reached the last chorus or two of the song, Mel got to his feet and made a little gesture that meant, "Let me sing one chorus solo." The carolers — all still apparently unaware they were in the presence of one of the world's great singers — looked a bit uncomfortable. I'd bet at least a couple were thinking, "Oh, no…the little fat guy wants to sing."

But they stopped and the little fat guy started to sing…and, of course, out came this beautiful, melodic, perfectly-on-pitch voice. The look on the face of the singer I'd briefed was amazed at first…then properly impressed.

On Mr. Tormé's signal, they all joined in on the final lines: "Although it's been said, many times, many ways…Merry Christmas to you…" Big smiles all around.

And not just from them. I looked and at all the tables surrounding the impromptu performance, I saw huge grins of delight…which segued, as the song ended, into a huge burst of applause. The whole tune only lasted about two minutes but I doubt anyone who was there will ever forget it.

I have witnessed a number of thrilling "show business" moments — those incidents, far and few between, where all the little hairs on your epidermis snap to attention and tingle with joy. Usually, these occur on a screen or stage. I hadn't expected to experience one next to a falafel stand — but I did.

Tormé thanked the harmonizers for the serenade and one of the women said, "You really wrote that?"

He nodded. "A wonderful songwriter named Bob Wells and I wrote that…and, get this — we did it on the hottest day of the year in July. It was a way to cool down."

Then the gent I'd briefed said, "You know, you're not a bad singer." He actually said that to Mel Tormé.

Mel chuckled. He realized that these four young folks hadn't the velvet-foggiest notion who he was, above and beyond the fact that he'd worked on that classic carol. "Well," he said. "I've actually made a few records in my day…"

"Really?" the other man asked. "How many?"

Tormé smiled and said, "Ninety."

I probably own about half of them on vinyl and/or CD. For some reason, they sound better on vinyl. (My favorite was the album he made with Buddy Rich. Go ahead. Find me a better parlay of singer and drummer. I'll wait.)

Today, as I'm reading obits, I'm reminded of that moment. And I'm impressed to remember that Mel Tormé was also an accomplished author and actor. Mostly though, I'm recalling that pre-Christmas afternoon.

I love people who do something so well that you can't conceive of it being done better. Doesn't even have to be something important: Singing, dancing, plate-spinning, mooning your neighbor's cat, whatever. There is a certain beauty to doing almost anything to perfection.

No recording exists of that chorus that Mel Tormé sang for the other diners at Farmers Market but if you never believe another word I write, trust me on this. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Sesame Street characters do impressions of other Sesame Street characters…

Actually, I believe it's Matt Vogel doing an impression of Jerry Nelson as The Count doing impressions of other Sesame Street characters, and David Rudman doing an impression of Frank Oz as the Cookie Monster doing impressions of other Sesame Street characters, and Ryan Dillon doing an impression of Kevin Clash as Elmo doing impressions of other Sesame Street characters, and Leslie Carrara-Rudolph as Abby Cadabby doing impressions of other Sesame Street characters. But you get the idea…

Tammy Crotty has this to ask…

I've been wondering about this since the Bill Cosby scandals, but I was wondering how royalties work. Whenever I hear about people boycotting a tv show/movie/book, I wonder who else receives royalties from that work and so who might be getting more screwed than the creator/star/author. When The Cosby Show was pulled from networks, did that hurt, say, Keisha Knight Pulliam? Would she still be earning some kind of royalties when the show airs? What about production crews and such?

Well, just to be nit-picky, you're mainly asking about residuals, not royalties…but the answer is yes. There are various folks who are compensated when a TV show is rerun and when it isn't, they don't get the money they'd have received when it was. Some folks get residuals and some get royalties or various forms of back-end compensation and profit participation.

Keisha Knight Pulliam gets less…probably way less, and so does the company that owns the show and wishes to use it as a continuing source of revenue. That also happens when the star doesn't disgrace himself and go to prison but the series just plain fails to attract enough viewers for a healthy life in syndication. Some once-popular shows don't.

This may not seem fair. After all, it's not Keisha's fault that so much of America no longer wishes to watch Mr. Cosby scold others for doing the wrong thing. But that's how these things work. Producers, writers, directors, actors and folks in a few more categories share in the ongoing profitability of a show.

I just got a residual check — one of those tiny ones that cost them more to process and mail than the face value of the check — for an episode I wrote of Bob, one of Mr. Newhart's shorter-run sitcoms. If it runs, I get these checks. If it doesn't, I don't. If it's revealed that Bob Newhart has long been a serial rapist and he goes to jail and no one wants to watch this show, I stand to lose over the next few decades, maybe thirty-five dollars. I sure hope that doesn't happen.

Jim Davis, with whom I have worked since 1987, is selling off his vault of originals to his strip, Garfield. Yes, I already have a few…including one Jim sent me because it contained a sly reference to me. People have occasionally asked me how they can get one. Well, here's how you can get one.

Jim, by the way, did the foreword for the new volume of The Complete Syndicated Pogo — the sixth in the series reprinting Walt Kelly's wonderful newspaper strip. Due to distribution problems I described here, only a few stores have received their copies but in about three weeks, it should be everywhere it's supposed to be. The books for the first printing have been printed. They're just making their way to retail outlets by having a duck hand-deliver each copy…or something. Order yours with confidence…confidence that you'll receive it soon, confidence that you'll love what you read in there. You can also order a boxed set of Volumes 5 and 6 at this link.

Here's the annual TCM Remembers video noting people from the movie biz who've passed away in the past year. I don't know why they put this out in the middle of December because someone significant always dies in the last two weeks of the year and they have to go back and edit that person in.

Folks who get way too upset (in my opinion) at omissions in the "death reel" at the Academy Awards often ask why that montage can't be like the ones TCM assembles. I'd be fine with that but here's one thing to consider…

The segment at the last Oscar ceremony ran 4:21 and covered fifty names. This TCM effort runs 4:30 and covers ninety names. I would guess the difference is that the folks who assemble the one for the Academy Awards feel they have to give everyone a little more screen time, especially the really well-known faces that the live audience at the event will want to applaud. The TCM one doesn't play to a live audience — though of course, you're free to clap as much as you like as you watch this…

A longtime friend asked that I post the excerpt below from a recent message he sent me, that I respond to it here, and that I leave his name out of it. Okay, longtime friend. This is about my most recent post on Harvey Weinstein…

You had me 100% with your Weinstein remarks until I got to the part about "it's always a little sad when those people find out the rules do apply." There is nothing the slightest bit sad about what's happened to that asshole. It's a cause for celebration and there's nothing the least bit sad about it. We should all be cheering like we're in Times Square and they just dropped the New Year ball. Please explain to me, as I'm sure you can, why I should find anything sad in that prick's downfall.

Humans are capable of emotional multi-tasking. When my dear Carolyn finally stopped breathing, I was as sad as anyone could be about losing her but simultaneously relieved that her ordeal was over…and mine as well. In the altogether different case of Harvey Weinstein, I am absolutely pleased that he was nailed for his sicko misdeeds and even more pleased that he's now a big, bold example for others who'd been doing (or might have started doing) the kinds of things for which he was arrested and is now being sued the proverbial eight ways to Sunday.

But I'm also capable of being sad — and that's the right word for it: sad — that any human being could descend down the food chain to that level. When you are blessed enough to attain great wealth and/or great power, I think you have a responsibility to mankind and to yourself (in that order) to use them properly. This is only the subtext of, like, 97% of all the super-hero comic books ever written. And it's sad to me when anyone makes the wrong choice. That man could have had a really good rest-of-his-life if he'd hadn't treated others the way he did.

The Paley Center for Media in Beverly Hills is a lovely place that preserves the history of television and offers interesting screenings and panels and exhibits. I've never been to the Paley Center for Media in New York but I assume it does the exact same thing equally well. I shall have to get familiar with it because the one in Beverly Hills is going away in mid-2020. The institution will keep doing some of its events in other facilities as they already do, but they'll no longer have that lovely building.

Yes, it's a shame. I never quite understood why they chose one of the priciest hunks of real estate in the world in the first place…but it's still a shame. It also may be understandable because so much of what you might have gone into the Paley Center to view can now be found on YouTube, archive.org or one of several other online repositories. What you can't find are videos of most of the in-house-produced Paley events, especially the early Paley Fest programs which were about the history of television. The ones today are almost wholly to honor current programming and to declare shows "classics" early in their first seasons.

I understand that an organization like this has to always think in terms of what will bring in the most bucks and that honoring recent shows and letting the videos of those events be released commercially has been a much-needed source of income. I also understand that a lot of old shows can't be honored because everyone involved with them has died. But they did some wonderful, important seminars and panel discussions with people who are no longer around to be interviewed and I hope that material is available somewhere else than their New York headquarters.

I really like Jordan Klepper. Comedy Central gave him two shots at his own show. The first was funny but at times, it felt like a cheap foreign knock-off of The Colbert Report. The second was clever and sharp and daring and, from what I can discern, watched only by me. Now, he's back on The Daily Show and doing something he does real well: Venturing with a camera crew into what you might call "Enemy Territory" and finding utterly clueless people to interview.

I feel twinges of guilt enjoying a segment like that. I don't like prank shows because I think they're largely rigged: You either make a fool of yourself or you get edited out. This is almost that but not quite. I'm sure when Klepper went around with his microphone, he chatted with some people who didn't come off as clueless clowns. But that's not funny so that's not in the segment. To his credit though, he's done this with Democrats so he reinforces my belief that every political movement has its idiot faction. But really, what I like about him is that he usually manages to achieve smart and funny at the same time. See if you don't agree…

Several folks have sent me this link suggesting I post it.  Christianity Today, a magazine founded by Billy Graham, rarely editorializes but they make an exception for Donald Trump, a man they think any good Christian should wish to see removed from office.  Since I'm not a Christian, I'll just give you this link and leave you to make of it what you will.

Probably fewer than a dozen of you are interested in this but I'm interested in it, it's my blog and it's going up here. You don't like it? Go check and see if Abe Vigoda is still dead.

Not all that far from where I live, there's this wonderful little Italian cafeteria called Andre's. It ain't much in looks or luxury but it serves up great spaghetti, ravioli, chicken parm, lasagna and other goodies at low, low prices. I've written about this place before…here, for example.

It's in a shopping mall at the corner of Third Street and Fairfax here in Los Angeles. On the far right is a CVS Pharmacy which remodels their interior right after each time I stop in for something. I'm quite sure the manager gets on the P.A. system and announces, "Okay, Evanier's gone! Move everything around so the next time he comes in, he won't be able to find a damned thing!"

To the left of the CVS is a Whole Foods Market which is apparently run to disprove the rumors that when Jeff Bezos bought out the company, he lowered prices. You want to know how bad it is? Even Jeff Bezos can't afford to shop there.

To the left of Whole Foods is a little patio and Andre's is in that patio. If you're in the area, its exact address is 6332 W 3rd St. and its website with the menu, the hours and everything is here.

Andre's is built into the west side of a very big building. There were a few other shops there but they've either all closed or are about to. Most of the building was occupied for the last few decades by a very shabby KMart. As we've discussed here, outlets of KMart (and its sister chain, Sears) have been closing faster than businesses with "Trump" in their names. The KMart of which we speak closed its doors last Thanksgiving but way before it went bye-bye, the owners of the shopping center had announced a plan to tear down the entire building and erect a 26-story tower with 381 apartments and 81,000 square feet of commercial ventures.

Many folks in the vicinity protested the erection of something that large in that location. I even spoke against it at a meeting of of the Mid City West Community Council, which has some sort of supervisory role on development in the area. I was mainly interested in saving — or at least, delaying — the demise of Andre's, which would have disappeared along with the building it's in. I claim zero credit for the veto of the 26-story Goliath but they were soon talking about a much smaller project.

At the moment, Andre's is still open and serving dee-lish pasta and they have a lease through the end of June of 2020. And what of that big, ugly, empty building that once housed the KMart?

Well, yesterday, they painted it pink. Or purple. Here — you can decide for yourself…

Personally, I think it's the color of Pepto Bismol, which is ironic since just looking at it could cause nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach and diarrhea. Why, you may ask, did they do this to what already was a pretty unsightly piece of real estate?

I did some sleuthing and found out that the building has been leased for one year for a "pop-up" store. Apart from the identity of the lessee, I know nothing about it. I don't know, as one might assume, if this means that since they won't be tearing down the building within that year, Andre's can get that lease extended for at least an additional six months. And I'm not clear on just what kind of pop-up business will be popping-up there, though some have suggested a clothing line.

It's a pretty big building for just that and it'll probably cost a couple of bundles to renovate the insides to make it serviceable…all for one year? Well, maybe. I suppose. I guess. Really? So that's everything I know about it except, of course, that I've got you all curious as to who it is who rented this monster of a building and had it painted to look like a 99-Cent-Only Store with psoriasis. It's this person. And I hope she's real successful because the longer she's there, the longer Andre's may be there…assuming the color of her building doesn't kill too many appetites.

I don't have a whole lot to say about The Impeachment of Donald Trump except that I don't think anyone's predictions about how this will play out — including mine, certainly — are worth a whole lot. I do agree with this piece Josh Marshall wrote last night and I'll quote just this much of it…

Here are three points that, for me, function as a sort of north star through this addled and chaotic process.

One: The President is accused of using extortion to coerce a foreign power to intervene in a U.S. presidential election on his behalf.

Two: There is no one in U.S. politics who would ever find that behavior remotely acceptable in a President of the opposite party.

Three: The evidence that the President did what he is accused of doing is simply overwhelming. The documentary evidence points overwhelmingly to guilt. His sometimes unwilling accomplices say he is guilty. His own words prove his guilt. He continues to justify what he is accused of and continues to do the same things again and again in plain sight.

This process has been so clotted with tantrums, goalpost-moving and dissimulation that it can be hard to keep one's bearings. For me, those three essential points clarify the matter and drown out the yelling and stomping.

The problem with the kind of partisanship we're now seeing in this country is that it pre-empts rational, honest thought. Imagine you went to a U.S. Senator and posed a hypothetical question about some unnamed president of the future who committed certain questionable deeds. You ask him, "Would you consider those impeachable offenses?" and the answer you might well get would be "It depends. What party is this hypothetical president?" Or some would answer that yes, those are impeachable offenses but they'd presume that if one of their guys did those questionable things, they could effortlessly modify or reverse that position as necessary.

Once upon a time, it might have been possible to look at a situation like the one that now exists and make some reasonable predictions but that was back when at least some people in power were being reasonable. Now, I dunno and you don't either. I'm going to guess that the reason Trump is so visibly furious at being impeached is that he believed his own bullshit about this being a "do-nothing Congress" and can't believe they did anything.

Deep down, the guy's gotta know a dozen things in his past that are either worse or could be spun as worse…so it's like, "My God, if they'd impeach me over this, what will they do if they get hold of my 2017 income taxes? What if they find out about the deal I made in Peru? What if they find out about that special assignment done for me by Jon Voight and our Rudy Giuliani body double?"

But that's just a guess from a guy who writes cartoons for a living. In a way, it's kinda nice that my predictions are probably just as good as anyone else's these days. I think the three above points from Josh Marshall are valid. I'm not sure much of anything else is.

• I almost expect Trump to announce, "It was greatest impeachment ever! Nobody knows more about being impeached than I do! Obama wishes he could have been impeached as well as I was! Poor Bill Clinton was only impeached once and I'm going to be impeached again and again!"