• I sometimes stop and recall a day when Rudy Giuliani was a man to be admired.

When I was a kid, my family consumed a lot of See's Candy.  We always seemed to be giving someone a box of it or receiving a box of it…and those assortments presented a problem for someone like me who had major food allergies.  Unlike the Whitman's Samplers that we also sometimes had, a See's assortment had no diagram to tell you what was what.  Some of those candies, I knew, were incredibly delicious.  And some, I knew, could make me very, very sick.

So I usually dove for the Molasses Chips, which were harmless to me and had a distinctive shape.  They're the ones in the lower right corner in the above box — long and flat. But then once they were gone, I'd look at a piece like this —

— and I'd ask it, "What are you, little piece of candy? Could you hurt me?" I couldn't take the chance and I didn't want to break into it to peek because that would spoil it for someone else. So I passed on further See's. As it turned out, that was usually a wise decision. The above piece was Milk Chocolate Coconut Creme which would have about the same effect on me that Chocolate Covered Cyanide would have on you.

My mother often took me with her into the See's shop that was then in the shopping center on Pico Boulevard near Westwood. There, they had the pre-packaged boxes of assorted, unidentifiable treats. They also had all the different varieties on display individually on trays with labels. So you could purchase a quarter-pound of orange creams (yum) or divinity puffs (lethal). I don't know if this is still a custom at those stores but when we went in, a nice lady behind the counter would randomly select a piece of candy from the display case and present it to me as a freebee. I'd always watch to see which tray it came from and it was always something I knew I shouldn't eat. Always.

I'd turn it down as politely as I could and she'd look at me in shock. A child declining free candy? What was wrong with that boy? She'd stare at my mother and think, "That woman is raising the Spawn of Mephistopheles. Maybe I should save humanity and kill him now!"

But I'd ignore her withering glares or maybe I'd work up the courage to ask politely for a Molasses Chip. One time, I naively asked for chocolate-covered cashews and the clerk gasped and then said, putting an indignant pause between each word, "Young man! See's Candy does not make chocolate-covered cashews!" I never felt more out of touch with reality in my entire life.

Anyway, here's a little video about how they make See's Candy featuring a man who probably spends his weekends entering John Goodman Look-Alike Contests. And by the way, do you know who owns See's Candy these days? Warren Buffett. He bought the firm in 1972, little suspecting that 33 years later, I would stop eating candy of any kind. Hope he was able to weather the horrific plunge in sales that must have occurred then.

I just read the Ronan Farrow article alleging sexual misconduct by many at CBS but especially C.E.O. Les Moonves. Here's a link to it.

It's quite damning and quite thorough and it was all I could do to remind myself that it may be only one side of a complex matter. No matter how strong a case may seem, you need to wait and hear all the evidence before you make up your mind.

That is, if you do make up your mind and that isn't always necessary. I can certainly condemn the kind of behavior alleged and contribute in my own small way to stamping it out without deciding this guy I barely met touched that woman I never met in those inappropriate places during incidents years ago at which I was not present. (I met Mr. Moonves once but nothing in that brief encounter gave me a scintilla of insight into whether he was the kind of man who'd do what the article says he did.)

What I guess I'm saying is that I don't have to form a firm opinion as to his guilt or innocence, and I may not even be qualified to do that. But we're all qualified to say that anyone who would do stuff like that is a horrible human being and we oughta be saying it more. The problem of sexual impropriety is bigger than any one case and it wouldn't/shouldn't be lessened if it somehow turns out that Moonves is innocent.

Crimes are crimes. Every day in this country it seems, someone who is accused or even convicted of murder is found to be Not Guilty. That doesn't make murder any more acceptable.

So that was one thought I had while reading Farrow's article. Another is that as a reporter, he's very thorough when he writes of cases that do not involve his own family.

When it comes to damning the man who may or may not be his father (and he doesn't seem to want to even clear that up), he believes we should believe every word of testimony by his younger sister and we should ignore all evidence to the contrary, including the testimony of his older sister and older brother. It's easy to build an iron-clad case against someone when you can pick and choose your facts…something to remember any time an article makes you believe someone is guilty.

• I had lunch today in the CBS commissary and it was so sad. The bus boy was Les Moonves.

• On May 6, current Trump lawyer Rudy Giuliani described former Trump lawyer Michael Cohen as "an honest, honorable lawyer." On July 26, he described Cohen as "a pathological liar." What is it about being Trump's lawyer that makes you unable to get your story straight?

Eric Idle, whom we admire greatly, has an autobiography coming out soon. Actually, he calls it a "sortabiography" but whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be well worth buying and reading. If you'd like to get a head start on the buying part of that, here's a link to pre-order a copy.

Or perhaps you'd prefer a signed copy which you'd receive in person after hearing him talk in person about his life and book.  Mr. Idle is making a tour and he's scheduled so far to be in New York City, Boston, Naperville (that's in Illinois), Seattle, San Francisco and Culver City.  Culver City is a section of Los Angeles and his appearance there will be in a high school auditorium.  You can find out all the wheres and whens, and maybe even order tickets, at this webpage.

Today's alarming non-Trump news is that the company that makes Necco Wafers is shutting down production. This is apparently not a permanent thing. They're selling the product to another firm that will resume production and that will appease the lovers of Necco Wafers — a piece of news that makes me want to ask in my best Jerry Seinfeld impression, "Who are these people?"

The product has been around since 1847 so simple logic will tell you that there must be folks who buy and enjoy them. I have never heard of such a person. I don't eat candy at all anymore but when I did, Necco Wafers were the last thing I would ever eat. I would eat cole slaw mixed with candy corn before I would eat a Necco Wafer. I think I once tasted about half of one and spit it out, making a mental note not to make that mistake again. At the drug store candy display, my friends and I would point at the Necco Wafers and say things like "I can't believe they still make those!" and "They're made out of the finest grade Necco!" One buddy of mine assumed "Necco" was Italian for "Polystyrene."

Take a look at this video of how Necco Wafers are made. Is there anything in here that makes you want to try one? That suggests they'd taste any better than poker chips?

Over in a comment thread on the 13th Dimension site, a fellow named Scott Rogers posted the following and a lot of folks have sent it to me to ask about it.  By "SDCC," he means San Diego Comic-Con, which is now known as Comic-Con International.  The events he'd recalling took place back when it was at the old San Diego Convention Center…

When I was about 7 years old, I was attending SDCC. The show was so small that it pretty much fit into one large ballroom. I remember seeing a man sprinting across the room holding something under his arm. Suddenly Harlan (I didn't know it was him at the time) stood up, and shouted. "The son of a bitch just stole Jack Kirby's Inkpot Award! GET HIM!" The entire room turned as one. That thief never had a chance!

Mr. Rogers, being around seven at the time, can certainly be forgiven for not recalling or knowing quite what happened.  What happened was that Jack had been given an award…and it was not an Inkpot.  He got his Inkpot years before the first con Harlan attended.  I believe it was a plaque indicating that Jack had been initiated into the Hall of Fame, which is now known as the Eisner Hall of Fame. He received it during an afternoon ceremony.

A bit later, Jack, his wife Roz and a daughter or two were roaming the exhibit hall and Jack was occasionally being stopped for an autograph.  A kid of about fourteen asked for one and Jack was happy to oblige.

I never knew this young man's name but we'll call him Tom here.  He had a stack of comics and purchases with him.  Jack had an armload of books he was carrying around with him and the plaque was somewhere in that armload.  Both Jack and Tom put down their piles, Jack signed whatever it was that Tom wanted signed and thanked him.  Jack always thanked you if you asked him for an autograph.  He thanked you for almost everything.

Jack and Tom then picked up their respective piles and somehow, Jack's plaque transferred from his armload to Tom's stack of goodies.  Neither noticed.

Five or ten minutes later, Jack ran into Harlan and they had a nice conversation full of mutual respect and compliments.  In the middle of it, Jack noticed that his plaque was missing.  He rummaged through the armload and there was no sign of it.  Harlan immediately sprinted for the entrance to the room and grabbed up a microphone which the staff used to make announcements to all present.  I cannot quote to you exactly what he said but it went roughly like this…

This is Harlan!  Some son-of-a-bitch scumbag just stole Jack Kirby's award and he's not getting away with it!  I am going to stand in the doorway and nobody's leaving this room until we find Jack Kirby's award and when I get my hands on the depraved degenerate who would do something like that, I'm going to make that pissant sorry he was ever born!

That's not the precise wordage but it is, I assure you, the precise rhetoric.

No one in the hall knew quite what to make of it and you could hear many pairs of eyes rolling.  Following it, Harlan indeed stood in the doorway and everyone else went about their business.

About five minutes later as I walked through the hall, a young man came up to me.  I didn't know him but he said, "Excuse me.  Aren't you Jack Kirby's assistant?"  I told him I had been that and he asked me to follow him behind a nearby dealer's display to a spot where we could not be seen.  There was a kid standing back there, trembling and sobbing.  It was the lad I'm calling Tom and he was holding Jack's award.  "I didn't steal it," he told me.  "I swear to God, I didn't!  I guess I accidentally picked it up or something!  Can you help me, please?"

I took the award and assured Tom he would not be arrested or forced by Harlan Ellison to regret being born.  He was even more worried about Jack Kirby being mad at him and I promised him that would not be the case, either.  Then I returned the plaque to Jack, who (of course) thanked me and never for a second imagined anyone had stolen it.  It was just missing, that's all.  Then I went over and told Harlan it had been found and he could stop standing in the doorway almost threatening to strip-search anyone who tried to leave. He seemed…disappointed.

A bit later, Tom had it together and I took him over to Jack, who couldn't have been sweeter or nicer.  Tom apologized.  Jack told him no apology was necessary and since he could see the kid was shaken and honestly upset, he offered to do Tom a little sketch of his favorite character.  When Tom then chose The Hulk, Jack didn't flinch even though at that point in his life, he had left that character behind at his former employer.  (I could see a couple of folks who witnessed the whole exchange start trying to figure out how they could steal Jack's award and then return it for the free sketch.)

I haven't told this story for a long time and I think the last time I told it, it was in a discussion with someone about how in life, if you meet someone you admire and respect, you naturally try to take a little something from them, looking at what they do well and hoping you can emulate even a smidgen of it.  I learned many things from Jack and from Harlan but I've tried to learn more from Jack.

Which is not to say I did not admire many, many things about Harlan.  Start with his writing and his constant demands for dignity (including proper payment) for his/our profession.

Toss in his childlike, unrestrained glee when things went super-right or even just right.  I wrote about that in the previous piece about him.

And then let's not forget how sensitive and benevolent he could be to some people. At times, I was one of those people and others have posted many stories about his compassion and desire to make things better.  If you never experienced that side of him, you would not have an accurate sense of him as a human being.

But I came to be really, really uncomfortable at his tendency to turn minor differences (or in the case of the above story, a simple misunderstanding that righted itself within minutes) into all-out war, threatening to chew on someone's eyeballs.  That he usually did it with colorful, clever language only mitigated it a tad or, I dunno, maybe it made it worse.  When I'd hear him rage and speak of violence by fists or lawyers, I'd think a guy that smart and that clever ought to be able to come up with a different ending to most stories besides staging a big fight scene.

I don't enjoy screaming matches, don't like loud confrontations, don't have rosters of people I yearn to punch out or otherwise get revenge upon…and yes, I know some people are entertained by that kind of thing or even enjoy participating. I don't…and as I get older, I see less and less reason to overlook or forgive it. Most of our mutual friends would tell you — some with a certain odd pride — of that time Harlan was an unbelievable asshole to them. Then they might or might not add something like, "Hey, if you want to be Harlan's friend, you have to put up with a certain amount of this."

At some point in our friendship of nearly fifty years — I can't tell you precisely when — I decided that I didn't want to put up with a certain amount — I can't tell you how much — of that. I decided it would prolong that friendship if I didn't see him too often. That may have been my loss because he was a brilliant man and — as I said and I don't want this overlooked — he could be the sweetest, most considerate person on the planet. But I decided I just couldn't take the times when he was that other guy.

Danny Gans was a baseball player until an injury ended that career and sent him into another: Impressionist. He was one of the best and at one point, he was the highest paid entertainer in Las Vegas — an amazing feat for a guy who wasn't known from TV or movies. He was getting over $100 a seat for his show at The Mirage at a time when no one else performing in Vegas — including some of the much-more-famous people he impersonated in his act — was charging anywhere near that. He died in 2009 from an unfortunate drug reaction.

Here's a little sampler of some of what he did. As you'll hear, he was really good…

Los Angeles is having another heat spell. My power was out much of yesterday…which apart from feeling like I was living inside a grilled cheese sandwich, wasn't all that awful. As I mentioned here long ago, I sleep with a CPAP machine. If you don't know what that is, it's explained here. Until recently, the unavailability of electricity would have meant I couldn't sleep.

But a year or two ago, I bought one of these. In fact, I bought it from the very page to which I just linked. It's a lightweight, small portable CPAP unit (APAP, actually) which I use as my travel machine and at-home backup machine. For some extra bucks, you can purchase — as I have — a battery pack that will run it at times when you're powerless. So even as I was getting behind on writing assignments, I was catching up on snoozing. It's a very handy thing to own.

I shall catch up on blog posts soon. That's assuming the power stays on.

Here's the late comic Guy Marks again, this time on The Dean Martin Show in 1967. You could do this routine in 1967 but you probably couldn't do it today. For that matter, I don't think you could do Dean's act, playing drunk all the time, today. If he were still alive, society would probably "grandfather" him in and laugh at him acting tipsy but I don't think most people find it as funny as they once did and I don't think it's a matter of so-called "political correctness." Some comedy just does not age well.

Guy Marks did this routine thousands of times on nightclub stages, in casino showrooms, at resorts, etc. Another thing which does not work as well these days is for a comic to develop a couple of hunks of material and then to do them over and over and over for the rest of his career. Audiences nowadays expect something relatively fresh. A "classic" bit now and then is fine. When I saw Robert Klein in October of 2016, I was glad to see him do some of his better routines from the past but also pleased that he had topical stuff which I had not heard.

This is not Guy Marks in the perfect setting. The Dean Martin Show was taped at a furious pace and then assembled like a video jigsaw in the editing room. Not only was Dean probably not on the premises when Marks was recorded doing this monologue but it's very possible that very little audience was in the room. Some or all the laughter you hear (and there's way too much of it) was obviously added in post-production. I suspect the pauses Mr. Marks takes for the laughs are the pauses he knew to take because he'd done this act 52,000 times in front of a full complement of actual human beings.

Most canned audience response in those days was added by someone who was deathly afraid of two seconds of silence so they often laid it over the comedian speaking. But Guy Marks was a pro so it works — though surely not as well as if they'd had an actual full audience there. He would have timed the act more towards them…

Slept seven hours…which for me is like a coma. 5.5 is about my norm and any more than that and my back spends the day hating me.

Those of you who didn't make it to Comic-Con don't need me telling you what a great time I had. I will say it didn't feel as crowded as it has in the past, possibly because they got rid of all them counterfeit badges, maybe because there are so many off-site events to draw people away from the main hall. Then again, I spent most of Saturday and all day Sunday upstairs doing panels so maybe it was shoulder-to-shoulder in the big room those days.

As usual for cons these days, I had a couple of awkward encounters with cosplayers who believe that if someone wants to take your photo, you stop immediately wherever you are and pose without caring if you block aisles or if portions of your outfit hit other people. I love 98% of the cosplayers there and greatly admit a lot of the ingenuity and skill displayed. But about 2% of them are public health hazards and one of these days, one of them is going to injure someone and we'll have new regulations which the 98% won't like.

I enjoyed meeting so many people. I didn't enjoy not encountering so many people I know and though I knew they were on the premises, our paths never crossed. Has anyone considered designing a Comic-Con Meet-Up App where you and your friends can all check-in and connect easier? There might not be any money in it but it might make the con more fun.

Here's a great article about Joye Murchison Kelly, the lady who ghostwrote Wonder Woman in the forties and who was honored at the convention. Most of my favorite Comic-Con moments this year involved Joye and her terrific hubby Jack.

I'll return when I'm more awake and my back decides to resume colluding with the rest of me.

No matter how great a time I have at Comic-Con — or anywhere else I may travel — it always feels good to be back in my trusty computer chair.

I'll write more about the con tomorrow or whenever I wake up.

I've been sleeping in an odd pattern this con: Sleep for an hour or two, wake up and write for an hour, sleep for an hour or two, wake up and write for an hour, etc. I think I'm getting the proper number of cumulative hours. Then again, I did briefly nod off for a minute or so during a panel the other day. Fortunately, I was not its moderator but still.

My hotel room has a great view of the convention center and throughout this weekend, I've looked out at it at all hours of the night. Even at 3-friggin'-A.M., there are small groups of people walking by, reminding one that it isn't all about the dealing and the paneling. It's also about the partying and the socializing. A lot of folks have a very good time at this convention simply because they're all in one place.

Yesterday was amazing. I had to be up, cleansed and clothed for a 9 AM breakfast and I had one business-type meeting before sprinting upstairs to host the annual Quick Draw! competition. I'll tell you about it and some other things with the visual aid of my pal Bruce…

Those were the cartoonists. Left to right, we have Lalo Alcaraz, Sergio Aragonés and Scott Shaw! Their Sharpies were sharp and so were their minds as the audience and I threw challenges at them and they swatted 'em back with very funny drawings. Voice actors Fred Tatasciore and John Mariano played our Secret Words game and I introduced Joye Murchison Kelly to the crowd. Joye was the uncredited writer of many of the best Wonder Woman stories of the forties and as such, was the recipient of a Bill Finger Award on Friday night. A couple thousand Quick Draw! attendees gave her a long, living standing "o" and she certainly deserved it.

On the stage for our Cartoon Voices I panel were these folks, left to right: m.e., Julie Nathanson, Kari Wahlgren, John Mariano, Roger L. Jackson, Gregg Berger, Matthew Mercer and J.P. Karliak.  Leaving your loving moderator aside, you have here some of the workingest voice actors in the business today.  Don't believe me?  Check out their IMDB listings — and remember that doesn't include things like commercials and promos and dubbing and many videogames. Very funny panel…one of the best "readings" we've ever had.

I did a panel for one of my new employers, Blizzard Entertainment, where they gave away free copies of the first comic book I've written for them. With my customary ineptness at self-promotion, I don't believe I've mentioned this gig on this blog. I'll post about it soon along with a photo of this panel once I get one. (Forgive any typos, people. I'm typing as fast as I can to finish this before I have to vacate this room and dash for a Kirby panel…)

The highlight of the con for me — and I daresay for many people — was when the splendid cartoonist-historian Trina Robbins and I got to interview Joye Murchison Kelly. As you can see below, the room was packed with people who understand that Comic-Con is still a lot about comic books. Ms. Kelly delighted the crowd with stories of her days ghosting for Dr. William Marston — or "Doc," as she called him. I would tell you more about it but Sunday Programming awaits and those panels won't host themselves.

Thanks to all of you who's stopped me to say you enjoy this blog. Hope to see more of you today as I post this without proofreading and haul my luggage outta here.

• My Cartoon Voices panel today at Comic-Con starts at 11:45 AM in Room 6A. On yesterday's C.V. panel, I said it commenced at Noon. This is what we in the biz sometimes refer to as a "boneheaded mistake." It's like saying "would" when you really meant to say "Wouldn't."