Here's an ancient song that you all know…at least if you love old Warner Brothers cartoons. And if you don't love Warner Brothers cartoons, please stop reading this blog. I would hate to think that I'm writing it for anyone who doesn't love old Warner Brothers cartoons.
This is, of course, "Merrily We Roll Along," the tune that opens and closes so many of the great cartoons with Bugs, Daffy, Porky, Elmer and that gang. The singer is Eddie Cantor, who was quite a huge star in his day…and a pretty good performer who has been unjustly forgotten. The official writing credits for this song are that it's by Charlie Tobias, Murray Mencher, and Eddie Cantor. And here's Will Friedwald with the story behind this famous tune…
Getting ready to get on big metal flying thing and go to isle of Manhattan. Smoke on your pipe and put that in.
But it's hard to think about that and to not think about, in alphabetical order: Las Vegas and Puerto Rico. My sympathies and shock are kinda bouncing back between the two of them, appalled that we don't do more to prevent what happened in the former and to help with what's happened to the latter. I sent money to Operation USA, which is about all I can think to do to aid Puerto Rico. I mean, it's not like I'm the head of a government who could care a lot more about those people down there.
About gun control? That's long seemed hopeless to me. I do have friends who own enough firearms to qualify as Gun Owners in anyone's eyes. Not a one of them believes people should be allowed to own the kind of gun you can take up to the 32nd floor of a hotel and use to kill 59 people, injure 527 others and leave countless others in shock. Any one of them could probably write a batch of laws that would cut down on massacres while still preserving the rights of responsible hunters and those who need a weapon for protection. But they're not driving this bus and I'm skeptical that those kinds of folks ever will, not even after the next "Greatest Massacre in U.S. History" or the one after that or the one after that or the one after that…
I do like what Seth Meyers said in the video I embedded last night. Maybe it's time to get politicians to at least self-identify where they stand. Get each one on the record answering questions like, "Would you be willing to support laws that would have prevented Stephen Paddock from obtaining the weapons he had in that hotel room?" And then we have to wait for the day when it would cause more candidates to lose elections if they said "No."
Gotta go pack. Posting will be sporadic here for the next week but it will include reports on the New York Comic-Con and various shows on or slightly off-Broadway.
I start most days with a chocolate protein shake made with Jay Robb Whey Protein. It's the only chocolate thing I ingest since I (largely) gave up sugar about ten years ago. Jay Robb products are free of sugar and also of artificial sweeteners, which neither I nor my body like. They make 'em with Stevia and it's a pretty nice, protein-rich drink especially if you make yours with real cold water. For a time, I also put in a splash of milk but I stopped doing that.
They have a couple of flavors but I like the chocolate way more than the others. Recently though, I came across a product at the market that I'd never seen before — Jif Peanut Powder. I tried adding a teaspoon of it to my Jay Robb chocolate shake and in addition to upping the protein count, I got a pretty good peanut butter flavor drink.
I was expecting something not unlike a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup — a mix of chocolate and peanut butter — but it doesn't work like that. No matter how little peanut powder I put in, the result tastes like peanut butter with almost no trace of chocolate. That is not a bad thing though. You might want to try Jay Robb Whey Protein, with or without the peanut powder.
You just shake your head. You look at the death toll in the massacre in Vegas last night and you shake your head and ask "Why?" Yeah, we have disasters in this world — lately, a lot of them. Fires and earthquakes and floods. But those are unavoidable. The one in Las Vegas…somebody made that happen. Somebody thought it would be a good idea to do that.
And it's chilling because any one of us could have been there. Any one of us could have been sitting there and suddenly, bullets are whizzing past us. We feel bad for the people who were killed and for their loved ones. We feel bad for the ones who were wounded or hurt and we feel for the folks who weren't injured but endured the panic and terror. How well are those people going to sleep in the weeks or months to come?
And then we have to deal with the secondary horror…of people trying to "spin" this for partisan advantage. Sometimes when these things happen, I feel I should go online and say that the only way to prevent this kind of thing is for everyone to buy more copies of Groo the Wanderer. That would make about as much sense as some of the things being posted this morning.
Donald Trump said it was "an act of pure evil." As I think I've said here before, I don't think the word "evil" is a very helpful word. It may be right in a dictionary sense but it doesn't advance the dialogue about what really happened or how we might prevent it in the future. It's like saying it was witchcraft and we can't possibly understand it. I should have known better than to expect a word of insight or depth from the guy in the Oval Office. I'm surprised he didn't congratulate himself on the fine job others did of getting people to hospitals.
As I wrote here after the last five or six of these, I don't expect anything to change. We'll hear the same old, same old and nothing will be done. Don't get your hopes up that this is the one that will do it. It won't. The next one won't and the one after that won't and the one after that won't. The next Stephen Paddock will be able to acquire all the same guns just as easily.
I'm watching the news out of Las Vegas. Apparently, one or more shooters opened fire with automatic weapons at an outdoor country-western concert at the Mandalay Bay hotel. Just horrible.
Everyone has snapped into action. The police department has dispatched officers to protect people. The fire department has dispatched ambulances to treat and transport victims. The news organizations have dispatched reporters to cover the situation. And the National Rifle Association has dispatched spokespeople to insist "This is not the time to discuss gun control."
The new Trump/Republican tax plan would give its largest benefits to the very, very rich and it would leave a $2.4 trillion hole in federal revenue in its first ten years. That's what every independent analysis is saying. The Trump administration apparently thinks they can convince everyone that those reports are Fake News. Jonathan Chait has more.
Ten days ago in Philadelphia, my friends Amber and Marv and I dined at the Reading Terminal Market, which is one of my favorite places to eat in the world. Actually, it's more like a favorite place to walk around in, look at all the food and all the people and then select between about eighteen things you'd like to eat but you can only eat one. There are many videos on YouTube where folks walk around with their cameras and show the place but I selected this one to put up here…
You're quite right that that Wikipedia line about Mort Walker's WWII years is screwy. Like you said, Colonel Klink commanded a German P.O.W. camp. What Mort Walker commanded was an American P.O.W. camp that housed German prisoners of war. Here's a link to an article in which he tells about it.
Thanks, Ron. That makes a lot more sense. The linked article is behind the Washington Post pay-after-reading-X-number-of-articles-each-month-wall so here's the relevant quote: "Once he landed in Europe, the forces didn't know what to do with Walker — so he was put in command of a prisoner-of-war camp. "So I had 10,000 Germans in a P.O.W. camp in Naples," he says. "They made me an intelligence officer. I investigated thefts and rapes and murders — all kinds of stuff." That makes a lot more sense.
So I'm watching the Toronto Blue Jays/New York Yankees game and it's time for the 7th inning break (20 minutes ago) and they're getting ready to honor our military. A couple of guys are escorting some old military guy in full uniform to home plate. The old guy looks like he's about 94 years old. Then I hear the announcer introduce the old guy as Addison Morton Walker who is, indeed, 94 years old. As pure luck would have it, I had my trusty Canon Power Shot handy and grabbed as many shots as I could right off the TV screen. They were throwing out information that I didn't catch. Something about his service in WWII.
Addison Morton Walker is better known to most of you as Mort Walker, creator-artist of Beetle Bailey and, with others, Hi and Lois, Boner's Ark, Sam and Silo and about 97,000 other newspaper strips. (97,000 may be a slight exaggeration. The number is more like eight but it seems like 97,000.)
According to Wikipedia, "In 1943, Walker was drafted into the United States Army and served in Italy, where he was an intelligence and investigating officer and was also in charge of a German P.O.W. camp. After the war he was posted to Italy where he was in charge of an Italian guard company. He was discharged as a first lieutenant in 1947." Wikipedia is accurate about 88% of the time but this feels like it's in the 88%, except that I don't think he was "in charge" of a German P.O.W. camp. Makes him sound like Colonel Klink. He might have been "in charge" of liberating it or spying on it or something.
Mort is one of the most widely-read cartoonists who's ever lived and based on my few encounters with him, a very nice man who loves his profession dearly. Nice to see him being honored and they should do that for Private Bailey, too. He's certainly put in enough years.
I had a very busy week last week. I spent Monday prepping for the June Foray Celebration at the Goldwyn Theater the following night. Tuesday was more prep in the morning, set-up and final staging in the afternoon and the show in the evening.
Wednesday, my friend Amber and I boarded an early flight to Baltimore and checked into the Hyatt Regency near the convention center. Thursday morning, we met my longtime buddy Marv Wolfman for breakfast in the hotel at 8:15. At 9 AM, we took a cab to the Baltimore Penn Train Station. At 10 AM, we were on a train to Philadelphia. At 11:15 AM, we were in Philadelphia. We got into a cab and I said, "Take us to the Liberty Bell!"
We spent much of the afternoon sight-seeing, stopping only for lunch at what may well be my favorite place to eat in the country. It's the Reading Terminal Market, which is an in-case-you're-interested .6 mile walk from the Liberty Bell. Lemme tell you about this place…
The Reading Terminal Market is an indoor Farmers Market crammed full of little stalls that sell every kind of food imaginable. There is food you take home and prepare in your own kitchen and food you consume on the premises. As much as I love the world-famous Farmers Market here in Los Angeles, this is better. If all I wanted to do in life was eat, I think I would move to Philadelphia and find the closest living space to the Reading Terminal Market.
It opened in 1893, consolidating a number of smaller markets in the area. It was a train station then but it stopped being that in 1984 and since then, it's just a place where you go to roam the aisles, look at tons of yummy-looking food and make the difficult decision as to what you'll get. There are at least four cheesesteak vendors in the hall and Marv patronized one. Amber got Chinese Food and I opted for this place — The Original Turkey…
I'm a big fan of roast turkey, especially when it's freshly-roasted and what this place serves is as good as any gobbler I've ever gobbled anywhere at any time in my 65 years on this planet. Some of you will probably write and tell me it's heresy of the highest order to go to Philly and not partake of a cheesesteak or at least a little cream cheese. Maybe so…but I could not have enjoyed my meal more than I did.
Our sight-seeing culminated with a backstage tour of the Walnut Street Theater, which is the oldest theater in this country that is still operating. As you probably know by now, it is presently housing a superb production of A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum starring my chum Frank Ferrante. Frank has played this theater many times but he still learned things on the tour as a nice lady who works there led him, Marv, Amber and me around. Then we dined until Frank had to dash off to get ready for his second show of the day. Then we saw the show — you probably have some idea by now that I liked it — and took at cab back to the train station and a train back to Baltimore and a cab back to the hotel and an elevator back to…
Friday, Saturday and Sunday were spent at the Baltimore Comic-Con, which was quite a fine convention…and, incredibly, almost wholly about comic books. My new knee was giving me a speck of trouble due to all the hiking in Philadelphia so I didn't do my usual con routine of constantly roaming the aisles. I spent most of the time seated in the booth of Abrams Comicarts, signing my book on Jack Kirby and other things I've written, and talking with my friend, Abrams editor Charlie Kochman.
Among the folks I got to see and talk with: Walt and Louise Simonson, John Workman, Todd Klein, Ron Wilson, Paris Cullins, Tom King, Dean Haspiel, Jerry Ordway, Stan and Julie Sakai, Mark Waid, Elliott S! Maggin, Jack C. Harris, Bob Greenberger, John K. Snyder III, Don Rosa, Andrew Pepoy, Joe Staton, Billy Tucci and Thom Zahler. I am surely leaving out Someone Important. My apologies to Someone Important.
Walt and Louise Simonson and me
I did four panels — one with Mr. Kochman about my current book on Kirby, one with Marv Wolfman where we just interviewed each other for an hour, one with other folks talking about Mr. Kirby and a very nice tribute panel about our friend Len Wein. The panel on Len was full of great stories, most of which shared a common theme: Len laughing. I miss Len laughing. Len laughing was a good thing.
This was the first convention I've attended on that side of America since around 2008. In my mother's last few years, she got a bit panicky at the thought of me in another time zone so I only ventured outside Pacific for brief, necessary business trips. Around the time she passed away, my friend Carolyn began getting sicker and so I continued to not venture far from home.
I also had another reason to not go to conventions: They're kind of arranged these days for professional folks like myself to sell things and I don't sell anything. I don't sell things I've written. At most, I will sit for a time at the table of someone else who's selling them. I don't sell my autograph except sometimes when someone with the entire press run of Groo wants them all signed by me and I feel I can't say no because Sergio signed them all. Even then, any money I charge for excessive numbers goes to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund. (And by the way, Groo collectors: When are you people going to realize that the value of a comic book is based on its scarcity and copies of Groo that Sergio hasn't signed are much rarer than copies that he has?)
Anyway, the last half of this year, I'm getting around more. I'll be in New York for the New York Comic-Con next week (again, probably behind or around the Abrams booth) and then in November, I seem to be going to the Miami Book Fair.
Getting back to Baltimore: My thanks to Brad Tree, Roger Ash and everyone else involved in putting on this very enjoyable convention. Amber and I flew home Sunday night and I've already told you what happened there. I unpacked and now I'm repacking for what looks like a very busy week in Manhattan. Almost wish I had time to hop a train to Philadelphia, see Frank's show again and eat more of that turkey. I'll probably have to settle for shows I haven't seen before and dinner at Sardi's.
