Jonathan Chait on how some Republican leaders aren't even pretending to care about Donald Trump's ethical transgressions, especially the ones that relate to personal enrichment from public office.

Let's see if I understand how this works: If Hillary Clinton is accused of something shady, we investigate it and if the investigation uncovers no wrongdoing, we investigate it again and if that investigation uncovers no wrongdoing, we investigate it again and if that investigation uncovers no wrongdoing, we investigate it again and if that investigation uncovers no wrongdoing, we investigate it again and if that investigation uncovers no wrongdoing, we investigate it again and if that investigation uncovers no wrongdoing, we investigate it again and if that investigation uncovers no wrongdoing…

But if it's Donald Trump, hey, the American people don't care about that…

A song from Kristin Chenoweth…

• I hope at the end of four years, Trump's record on job creation shows more than the one he seems to have created for Alec Baldwin.

What do you think is the all-time best-selling album/CD of a Broadway-style musical? I took two guesses before I looked at this list of the 41 best-selling ones and I was wrong. My first guess turned out to be #8 and my second guess came in at #3. Betcha #5 is eventually #1.

Last night, I went to see a new production of Merrily We Roll Along at the Wallis Theater in Beverly Hills. It's there through December 18 and tickets are still available — though apparently not many since it's real good. Director Michael Arden has reconceived the show in a way, staging it on a unique set. There are areas like small backstage dressing rooms all around with mirrors ringed in light bulbs, and sometimes you see actors at them getting ready for their next entrance.

Also, as you may know, the show is about three Old Friends — played here expertly by Wayne Brady, Aaron Lazar and Donna Vivino. But they're also played by three younger actors who appear and reappear, dancing about like real-time flashbacks, a la the dream sequence in Oklahoma! or maybe the ghosts in Follies. It seemed to me like an effective way to underscore the conceit of Merrily, which is that we are watching key moments from the Old Friends' lives in reverse. I've seen this show several times but never a production with this much unity and grace as it rewinds three lives.

And yes, that's Wayne Brady from Let's Make a Deal and Whose Line Is It Anyway? playing Charlie the Lyricist. I would not have thought of him in the role as Charlie is usually played by someone weaker and more nebbishy than Mr. Brady but it worked fine, maybe even a little better that the traditional way. His partner Franklin seems less unlikeable, less like he's taking advantage of a partner who can't fight back.

(Brady inserts a few moments of mime and improvisation that were not in the book by George Furth. They're funny but reviewers seem to think they're out of character. I'm not sure. Maybe they change the character for the better, just as the casting of someone who seems less a victim does.)

Merrily We Roll Along is, of course, one of those Sondheim musicals that didn't work on Broadway — it lasted 16 performances — but which lives on in production after production, each trying to find a way to finesse its inherent structural problems. This version did that for me. I stayed with it, fully engrossed, in a way that I don't think I did in previous versions I've seen.

It's not a happy story. It's about the failure of idealism — three starry-eyed kids who envision doing great things with their careers and though they achieve some of what most would call success, wind up unfulfilled and unhappy. Because the story is told in reverse, we see the unfulfillment and unhappiness at the beginning and the youthful idealism at the end, which makes the idealism seem sappy and naive.

But along the way, you also see things happen which change the context and explanation for events and clashes you've already seen and with that comes a kind of understanding of how deeds and decisions have consequences — an effect-and-cause relationship. If that's what the playwrights intended when they said "Let's tell the story backwards," this production achieved it. I really liked it. It also helped that the cast is so strong and that they sing Mr. Sondheim's lyrics with expert clarity, which not every singer of Sondheim can manage.

Like I said, some seats are still available. Goldstar has some of the cheaper seats but I doubt they have many. And if you've never been to the Wallis, it's not only one of the newest theaters in town, it's also one of the nicest. I guess you'd call this a real good review.

This is a "quote-along" for a classic Monty Python sketch. For those of you who weren't quite sure what some of those lines were, I guess…

On Monday, Turner Classic Movies has quite the buffet for lovers of obscure, early talking pictures, especially shorts which in some cases have had little to no televised airplay.  I suggest you go look at the entire schedule but here are some nuggets…

• Paree, Paree — This was one of Bob Hope's earliest talking shorts…and it's full of Cole Porter tunes.
• Art Trouble — A 1934 comedy with Shemp Howard and a bunch of comics you never heard of. But there's an unbilled bit player in there making what may have been his screen debut…kid name of Jimmy Stewart.
• Seeing Red — A 1939 short that showcased Red Skelton and some variety acts of the time. One of the acts was A. Robins, "The Banana Man," who I wrote about back here.
• Ups and Downs — A 1937 short with Jule Allyson and Phil Silvers. I'll watch anything with Phil Silvers in it.
• Cab Calloway in 'Hi De Ho' — Twelve minutes of Cab Calloway. How can that not be wonderful?
• Home Run on the Keys — I've never seen this 1937 short but how can you pass up a musical starring Babe Ruth?
• An All-Colored Vaudeville Show — From 1935, it's a chance to see black performers from that era, including the Nicholas Brothers when they were quite young.
• Buzzin' Around — Contrary to popular belief, the screen career of Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle did not end with his 1921-1922 murder trials. He did make something of a comeback, including a few talkies. This was one of his last films, released the same year as his death, 1933.
• Ramblin' Round Radio Row 4 — Radio stars of the day (1932) including Baby Rose Marie, who would grow up to be one of America's great comediennes.
• Baby Rose Marie: The Child Wonder — And here she is, three years before Ramblin' Round Radio Row 4 in her own short.
• Lambchops — This is from 1929 and it's George Burns and Gracie Allen doing their most famous vaudeville routine. Gracie does all the heavy lifting.

And there are many others, including a lot of shorts that are just filmed vaudeville acts or big bands doing their stage shows.  Check out the list.  It may be a long time before they or anyone runs most of these films again.

Here's something I never expected to see. October 26, 1976 was my second day as a Story Editor on the TV series, Welcome Back, Kotter and the day of the first taping for which I was present. I can't begin to tell you how many amazing (and in some ways, life-changing) things happened to me that day.

The place was swarming with stars, above and beyond those in our cast, and I met so many people and I heard a live studio audience laugh at a line I'd suggested and I was briefly trapped in an elevator with Olivia Newton-John and Elliott Gould and I started to feel like I was really in show business and…

…and Groucho Marx came to the set.

Some years ago, I wrote a two-part article on what Groucho meant to me and about the few, precious times in my life I was with him.  If you want to read both pieces, here's a link to Part One and here's a link to Part Two.  If you don't have time, the following is an excerpt from Part Two — the section where Groucho comes to the set of the show I was working on to tape a brief cameo appearance…

The studio audience was in bleachers, being warmed-up by comedian Mike Preminger. Mike was unnerved by all the noise in the wings and by conflicting signals he was getting as to how much time he had to fill before we'd be ready to roll tape. No one had told him about Groucho.

At about 8:15, a call came up to the writers' dressing room that Groucho was downstairs. (The writers got a dressing room so that they could be close in case of emergency rewrites. Executive Producer James Komack had a dressing room just off the stage but he vacated his for the evening and Groucho's name was inserted in the slot on the door.) We all traipsed down to see Groucho.

Our esteemed cameo guest was not feeling well and it was decided that he would not do the walk-on but would, instead, have his photo taken with the cast on the set. I'm still not certain if that was his decision or ours but one look at the man and you could see he was in no shape to go on-camera.

The shortest route from Groucho's dressing room was directly across the front of the bleachers, past where Mike Preminger was filling time, and through the center flap of the goldenrod curtain between the audience and the Kotter classroom set. With several people guiding him, Groucho was led out in front of the studio audience while cast and crew hustled around the other way to meet him behind the curtain.

Out front, the audience did not, at first, recognize Groucho Marx.

Mike Preminger looked over and saw an elderly gent, shuffling slowly towards him, interrupting in mid-joke. In a second or two, he sized up the situation and blurted out a quick introduction. The audience, responding to the name, burst into loud cheering and applause. "Thunderous" is the word that came to mind.

Groucho, making his way through the curtain flap, didn't hear them.

Behind the drape, cast members and crew members alike were introducing themselves to Groucho. He shook everyone's hand and mumbled "Nice to meet you," oblivious to whom he was actually meeting. He didn't seem to know where he was and he certainly didn't know which of the people gently pumping his hand were actors and which ones moved scenery for a living. He was steered to Mr. Kotter's chair in the classroom and gently eased into it as Gabe and the Sweathogs (John Travolta, Ron Palillo, Larry Hilton-Jacobs and Robert Heyges) crowded around.

Recalling Dick Cavett's warning to the audience on the record of Groucho's Carnegie Hall show, I warned the photog that Groucho was made dizzy by flash bulbs. He replied that there was plenty of light on the set and, besides, the way Groucho looked, these pictures would probably never be released. (He was correct. Days later, when I phoned up the appropriate P.R. folks to procure a copy, I was told that no such photos existed.)

As they went through the motions of taking the pictures, Groucho remained unmoving, unsmiling and about as unlike the fellow in Duck Soup as it would be possible to imagine. I found myself mentally repeating, "This is Groucho Marx," trying to get the notion to sink in. The Groucho I met at Hillcrest was the one I knew — older perhaps, and slower, but nonetheless recognizable.

This Groucho was not. I couldn't help but wonder, "Why is he here? What is he out to prove?" And just as I was wondering that, I overheard Erin Fleming pitching herself to our producer as an actress whose presence would do Kotter proud. Okay: Question answered.

The pictures done, Groucho was helped off the stage. Several people had already left, almost or actually in tears. "I don't want to see him like that," I heard a few of them say, exiting as quickly as they had eagerly arrived. Bobby Heyges was walking around saying, "How can I go on after seeing that?" Bobby was in no mood for comedy.

I got the idea to liberate the GROUCHO MARX sign from the dressing room door, an interesting memento. But, when I got there, someone else of like mind had beaten me to it. I arrived just in time to see Groucho and his entourage step slowly out the door to a waiting limousine.

In the months I worked on Kotter, I never heard anyone mention Groucho's visit again. You couldn't have found a person on the crew who would bet you a dime that the man who posed for photos with the cast would live another ten weeks, much less ten months. But he did.

After the taping, I tried like hell to locate photos of Groucho on the set. I was (of course) interested in any that showed me standing next to him but I was willing to settle for anything. I found nothing. The ABC Publicity Department told me they didn't have any and they told that to our show's star, Gabe Kaplan, who had about a jillion times as much clout with them as I did. I tried a few other sources but finally accepted what that cameraman had told me; that the photos would never be seen. Well, look what someone found on the Internet and forwarded to me…

Not the clearest photo but there's the cast and there's Groucho…and I think you can even see his disinterest in being there with those people.

I was standing just outside camera range when this was taken.  As I recall, there was no real expression or anything from Mr. Marx. He sat there and all the photos that the photographer was getting were the same. Someone suggested changing things up a bit by giving him the book to use as a prop…so he held it but had the same blank, "When can we leave?" look on his face.

There were later reports that his secretary-keeper Erin Fleming sometimes gave him drugs he should not have been taking.  It would not have surprised me if he was on something that night, though I'd prefer to think he was just an old man having a bad evening.

Either way, he should have been home in bed instead of on the set of a TV show. In fact, for the few sad minutes he was there, I wished I was home in bed instead of on the set of a TV show.

As I think I mentioned in one of the above-linked articles, I saw him one other time after this…an afternoon visit to his home. He was a little better there but not by much. I have no idea why but I've never written anything about that visit. I suppose I will one of these days but it'll be kind of a depressing article.

How, you're probably wondering, is ketchup made?  It's made like this — or at least, this brand of organic ketchup is made like this…

William Saletan reports on a speech Donald Trump gave the other night that showed that all his thoughts about being President of everyone and us all working together exist on his TelePrompter but not within the man himself.  He still hates the press, thinks his opponents are all losers, believes that he won the greatest landslide victory in presidential history and has a license to do whatever he wants.  I'm afraid that the story of the next four years is all going to be about governing not by consensus or strategy but by hissy-fit.

Everyone out there seems to be trying to identify the moral of the presidential election. Jonathan Chait thinks the moral is that there is no moral.

I dunno. I think one is that the American people will decide emotionally that they like or dislike a candidate and then will steadfastly believe any story or claimed "fact" that supports that selection, no matter how ridiculous it is. And I expect those who backed Trump will soon find a moral that has something to do with being careful what you wish for.

Some friends and I went to see The Black Version, a troupe of improv players I've raved about before here. The working premise of their shows — and this is grounded in sad reality — is that there aren't enough decent roles for black actors in Hollywood. So what they do is take some movie suggested by the audience and improvise "The Black Version" of it. Last night, it was "What if Love, Actually had featured all black actors?" I can't tell you how funny it was.

Directing it all is Karen Maruyama, who is real good at setting up scenes, getting out of the actors' way and then knowing when to call for the blackout. The performers occasionally vary but last night, the cast consisted of (left to right in the above pic) Cedric Yarbrough, Phil LaMarr, Nyima Funk, Jordan Black, Gary Anthony Williams and Daniele Gaither. Usually in an improv company, you have a couple of stand-out performers and the rest work in support. Not with these folks. No one stood out because everyone stood out.

I already knew how brilliant Phil LaMarr was, having worked with him a few times, plus he often appears on the Cartoon Voices panels I host at conventions. And I'd seen Gary Anthony Williams, who has been on a lot of episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway?, where he's been indecently funny. Like all the folks on the stage last night, he's amazing when he takes whatever he's given — the briefest suggestion of a character, the slightest plot situation — and surprises the hell outta you with where he takes it.

And so fast. Most improv comedy doesn't stand up to retelling the next day because it's of the moment and it works in context. It's like I can tell you what a great magician did but if you weren't there to see him do it, you just plain won't be that impressed. The next performance of The Black Version in Los Angeles has not yet been scheduled but they'll be at Sketchfest in San Francisco on January 21, plus some of the players will be in other shows there. You can find out about that and read bios of all these funny thespians here.

I'll let you know when they're up in L.A. again because if you're close enough to see them, you really oughta see them. I think they're kinda good.

Here are some excerpts from a longer interview with Eric Idle about how the troupe is dealing with the sad dementia of its beloved member Terry Jones.

The conversation includes Idle talking about how they helped Jones get through the O2 concerts. It occurs to me that at the time, a lot of us wondered why the Pythons were insisting those would be their final appearances and why they weren't scheduling a few more in America. Well, now we know.

I wrote back here about The Illusionists, a show full of great magicians now playing on Broadway. Here's a little preview. The fellow stuck in the rings is my pal Charlie Frye and the lady helping him is his wonderful spouse Sherry…

Okay, now I'm starting to get pissed. As you may recall, I am perpetually plagued by unsolicited phone calls from people who want to sell me things. My being on the Do Not Call list means nothing to these people and no, it doesn't work for me to just not answer calls where the Caller I.D. doesn't display the name of someone I know.

I occasionally get calls that I would not want to miss. When my mother was in her last years, they were occasionally from her doctors or other parties concerning her health and there was no way to differentiate them when the phone rang. And one time not long ago, it was from a friend who was using a stranger's cell phone to call me about something urgent. I remember thinking, "I'm glad I answered that call." So I answer the phone when it rings…usually.

I do not like the sales calls and will never ever in a million years buy anything that way. Still, my dislike of them in no way diminishes their volume. Most come from folks repping Contractors and others involved in home repair and about half of those start with this script…

Hello, Mr. [My surname, mispronounced], this is [The caller's name] with [Name of company]. I spoke with you last May about possible improvements on your home and you were very nice to me then and you told me to call back about now. If you're ready now, I'd like to send one of our people out to give you a free estimate…

Depending on my mood at the time, I may call the person a liar or I may say something like, "Oh jeez, I'm sorry you didn't call back last month. I've got a crew here right now doing a hundred thousand dollars worth of home repair. You could have gotten the commission on it!" I have other things I say to them too but none of them involve letting their estimator come over.

A lot of those callers are pushing solar panels and want to explain to me how government tax credits will pay "most" of the cost. I usually tell them I don't use electricity — only flashlight batteries.

Not long ago, this group of merry contractor callers was joined by another industry that likes to phone me at ungodly hours. I am soon to turn 65 so various companies now want to sign me up for add-on programs for Medicare or for insurance plans that interface with my Medicare. These, of course, presume that there will still be Medicare next March…which is looking kinda iffy. Last I heard, Republicans want to repeal and replace it with a plan that will give you half-off on the walkers that are sold at Walgreens

But today, just about a half-hour ago, I got a new entrant in the "Let's Phone Mark and Annoy Him" Competition. So far, this is the most annoying of them all and I assume it keys off my approaching milestone age. A woman called representing some company with "Senior" in its name to offer me a package deal on "final expenses." In other words, plans for what's going to happen to my body when I die.

I was about to tell her, "I will welcome that moment because then these calls will stop" but then I realized: When my mother died four years ago, I switched her mailing address to mine. I receive all mail addressed to her and a lot of it relates to Medicare and insurance and other things that won't do her a whole lot of good these days. Some of it is even offers to handle her "final expenses," even though she was cremated in 2012.

So I guess these calls will go on for all eternity. In this country, death does not mean the end of someone trying to sell you something you don't need.