I am still a day or three from returning to full-speed blogging so here's another rerun so you won't have wasted one entire click to come to this page. Here is what I did one day in February of 2010…

Friday afternoon, I did something I haven't done for around ten years. No, not shower…though I did that in the morning before the other thing. At the request of a friend, I went to an elementary school and talked to kids about cartoons. I showed them an episode of The Garfield Show and then I gave drawing lessons, teaching them how to draw Charlie Brown, Garfield, Scooby Doo, Bart Simpson, Spongebob Squarepants and an original character that we all created together. The kids, who were all around eight years of age, did quite well and some showed promise. It would not surprise me one bit if twenty years from now, some professional cartoonist came up to me at a convention and said, "Hey, were you the guy who came to my third grade class in 2010 and taught everyone how to draw Charlie Brown?"

I used to do this every few months because…well, I usually learn as much as the kids do. It's fascinating to watch them view a cartoon I've written and to see what they laugh at and what holds their attention. Unsurprisingly with kids this age, the physical humor gets more response than funny lines or situations…but some of Garfield's snide comments got immense laughs. More significant, I thought, was not what made them laugh but what held their attention.

The group I spoke to consisted of two separate classes crammed into one classroom. When I was ushered in, the instructors were spending a lot of energy, as they apparently do all day, just getting the kids to stop talking and listen. I have a fairly good memory of my schoolroom when I was that age and I don't recall us having quite that attention-deficit disorder. A generational thing? Too much exposure these days to fast-paced media? I don't know enough about children in and of this age to be able to say. I do know that once I told these kids I wrote the Garfield cartoons, I got the undivided focus of about two-thirds of the room and when I mentioned that I used to write Scooby Doo, I snagged the other third.

Well, why not? If you were that age, wouldn't you rather listen to a guy talk to you about Scooby Doo than about long division?

Another thing that surprised me: I was telling them how when I was their age, I'd watch cartoons on TV or read comic books of the characters I saw on TV…and then I'd teach myself to draw those characters. One of the kids asked me what the first one was — and while I'm not sure it was, I said, "This one." Then I turned to the whiteboard on which I was drawing and began sketching a Yogi Bear…about as well as I did when I was seven, I might add. As I started, I thought, "I wonder if they'll even know who this is." Yogi's not seen on Cartoon Network. He's on Boomerang a lot but I don't know how many homes get that…and there are no comic books.

Well, I needn't have worried. I was halfway through the drawing and everyone was screaming out, "Yogi Bear! Yogi Bear!" He was one of everyone's favorite characters. The clear fave by a wide margin, by the way: Spongebob. After I taught them how to draw Mr. Squarepants, they all wanted lessons on his supporting cast…and were disappointed that I simply don't know those characters. Several of them also do Spongebob impressions, one so well that Tom Kenny's job is in serious jeopardy. Sorry, Tom.

The first time I ever did this was back in '73. I was taking some morning classes at Santa Monica College and I was asked by a young lady who was in one of 'em. Afternoons, she was a student teacher at a nearby elementary school and she thought her students would benefit from a little chalk talk about cartooning. At the time, I wasn't interested in that but I was interested in the young lady. If she'd asked me to play Twister in the fast lane of the Santa Monica Freeway at rush hour, I probably would have.

I got there and watched a little of the class before I began. That's when I was told it was a "problem" class of kids with "learning disabilities" which mostly consisted of not paying attention to anything the teacher said and occasionally hurling items at her or each other. For an instant there, I wondered if playing Freeway Twister might not be preferable…but then I was introduced and when I started talking about cartoons and drawing, I suddenly had rapt attention. The teachers later said they had never seen that much focus. The kids didn't remain silent but like the ones yesterday, all their chatter was suddenly on topic, about the subject being taught.

Apart from the fact that the teaching assistant never did go out with me, the trip couldn't have gone better…a fact for which I deserve zero credit. Anyone who could have drawn the pupils' favorite characters could have done it, and many could have done it a lot better than I did. The point was that that kind of thing reached these kids…who, I'm horrified to realize, could have been the parents of the children I spoke to on Friday. That many years have passed. Still, the reaction was identical and it always is.

So is the moral of the story. The idea is to leave them with a number of thoughts. One is that this is a job. You can actually make a living drawing funny pictures or writing silly stories. Another thought is that you don't have to make it your occupation. There can be joy and satisfaction in just creating for the sake of making something.

Yet another is that whichever way you decide to go with it, it requires practice…lots of practice and dedication. The fourth thought is that it can be well worth it. I'm not sure classrooms ever do a good job of convincing children that things they learn there can have value to them later, possibly because so much of it will not.

Lastly, and this one is not so much a thought as a sensation…but it's just neat to be able to do that. Being able to draw Spongebob is like gaining a super-power. It might be worth investing the effort to learn to do it just so you can do it. I felt that way about drawing when I was a kid and also about magic and ventriloquism and a few other things. Even though I didn't go into those fields, I'm quite sure those interests had a role in getting me to where I am today. My father, who had no real marketable skills and always regretted it, used to say, "It's not that important what you do in the world as long as you can do something!"

Anyway, that's how I spent my Friday. And like I said, I think I learned at least as much as they did. Maybe more.

I don't feel good about leaving this blog devoid of content all day so I'm just back long enough to say hi, to tell you I'll be back full time in a day or three and to plug tomorrow's edition of Stu's Show, on which the topic will be "Archiving the Stars." Once upon a time, Stu worked as a personal assistant to Lucille Ball and he'll be telling what that was all about. Not only that but he'll be joined by Steve Stoliar (who performed similar duties for Groucho Marx), Gary Kaskel (who did likewise for Milton Berle) and Christopher Bay (who still does this for Shelley Berman). By now, you should know how to listen to Stu's Show but if not, all the details are here.

And I'll be back soon to tell you of my latest adventure. Here's a hint: I am not camping out to be first in line to see the new Star Wars movie.

I have to tend to a personal-type matter which will keep me from blogging for a day or three. I'll probably tell you all about it when I return but in the meantime, you'll have to look elsewhere on the web for your Donald Trump insults, attacks on cole slaw and plugs for Frank Ferrante. I'm sure you'll do just fine.

This is an entry to Mark Evanier's list of the twenty top voice actors in American animated cartoons between 1928 and 1968. For more on this list, read this. To see all the listings posted to date, click here.

Most Famous Role: Bullwinkle J. Moose.

Other Notable Roles: Mr. Peabody, Dudley-Do-Right, Fearless Leader, Tom Slick, Super Chicken, George of the Jungle, Gruffi Gummi (on Disney's Adventures of the Gummi Bears), Moosel (on The Wuzzles) and others.

What He Did Besides Cartoon Voices: Bill was primarily a writer, gagman and producer for animation.  Before he became the main creative talent for Jay Ward Productions, he worked for Warner Brothers animation and U.P.A.

Why He's On This List: Maybe the best-ever acting ensemble in animation was the crew on the Jay Ward shows and Bill was the keystone player.  On the Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoons, William Conrad was the narrator, then Paul Frees, June Foray and Bill did all the voices, each often expertly playing a half-dozen roles in one short cartoon.  No guest actors were ever needed.

Fun Fact: Bill was credited on-screen as producer and sometimes as a writer on the Jay Ward cartoons but never as a voice talent even though he usually played the star characters.

I'm busy with something today so I may not get back here for a while. If it turns out to be interesting, I'll tell you about it when I do.

As I look at my recent blog postings, I see two contradictory themes. One is that the presidential election is far, far away and that I believe much will change before any of us get near a voting booth. The other theme is me paying a lot of attention to all these current politic matters that I don't think matter much. I'd rather not devote much of my brain to what's going on now but it's like one of those traffic accidents you have to stop and look at. Or better still, it's like one of those high speed chases where (a) the newscasters have no idea what to say so they say nothing over and over, and (b) you're just watching to see who's going to crash and how. Better analogy.

People keep writing to ask me what I think of the new Supergirl show. If and when I get around to watching it, I'll let you know. It seems to be pleasing a lot of people.

I have a folder on my computer with downloaded podcasts — mostly interviews with people in and around show business. The folder is so full, I know I'll never get around to listening to a third of them but in the last week or so, I whittled the "unheard" list down a bit, sampling about a dozen different ones. I came to the conclusion that a good podcast is one that has a good host…and a good host is someone who doesn't need or have any co-hosts. Every one I listened to had at least one unnecessary extra person there, perhaps someone who'd do great as an interviewer on their own.

Whenever you start your own podcast — and sooner or later, we'll all have them — don't have a co-host. You don't need someone else to jump in and divert the conversation from what you're asking about. You don't need all the in-jokes that are only meaningful to you and your buddies. You don't need someone else to talk over you, especially if you have those cheap microphones that make three or more people sound like stock brokers on Wall Street yelling out buy and sell orders. Just you is fine. Or if just you is not fine, maybe you shouldn't have a podcast.

Gotta go. Back soon.

I have a few messages piling up here that seem worthy of answering here. This one is from Andy Rose…

This is a little random, but I've always enjoyed the fact that you can appreciate the history of a medium without getting into "everything sucks these days" hypernostalgia about it. But when I look at links to other people you recommend (Stu Shostak, Ken Levine…maybe even Floyd Norman to a small degree), they seem to have a dismissive attitude about the present that I don't enjoy.

From time to time, I have the opportunity to meet with people from the Old Days of a medium that I'd love to talk to about history, but I find that when I do, it quickly degenerates into them complaining about how the kids today don't know what they're doing. (I guess I'm partially exempted from being one of those "kids" because my interest is flattering to them.) Any attempt to politely suggest that maybe things today aren't all that awful is usually met with a frown, at best.

Yet when I listen to you on Stu's Show, you always manage to parry Stu's ad hominem complaints without getting into an argument about it. So I guess my question is, how do you do that? Is there a way to make that kind of point without putting the other person on the defense, or have you encountered others with that attitude with whom it's impossible to have a civil discussion?

Well, I might disagree with you about your examples. Ken Levine sure seems to love a lot of current shows. You may be reacting to his complaints about how the networks today micro-micro-manage shows these days to the point of smothering them. In those remarks, I think Ken is spot-on.

The "funny" thing about the situation he's complaining about — and I put "funny" in quotes because I'm sure it doesn't seem like that to those whose work is burdened by it — is that network folks are so transient. Today, if you're producing a sitcom for one of the majors and you're not yet the kind of smash hit where you can demand they leave you alone, they won't let you cast a one-line walk-on role without doing auditions and getting the approval of some guy at the network. His judgment is so much better than yours.

Six months from now, that guy at the network will be out of the network and trying to produce a show for them…and his successor won't let him cast a one-line walk-on role without doing auditions and getting approval.

I know Stu and Floyd well enough to know they too don't feel everything today is awful…but I do meet folks who often rant monotonously in that direction. Often, it's because of diminished or denied employment. I have learned to avoid one writer-acquaintance because to say howdy to this guy is to listen to a twenty-minute diatribe about how the cop/detective shows today are all "crap" and he can't believe they put this "shit" on the air. His subtext is way too obvious. Such shows should be more like they were in the seventies…which coincidentally is when he was getting hired to write them.

And sometimes, the subtext is that the person just plain doesn't like that the world is changing, period. He or she is getting older and they don't feel that things revolve around them the way they once did. My view, as I've expressed here before, is that the planet keeps turning and you have two choices: You can turn with it or you can spend your time trying to shove it back in the other direction. Since no one has ever succeeded at reversing its spin, I don't see the point in trying, especially since it's so much fun to hop on and go along for the ride. At the very least, it's much better than being left behind. I once heard someone refer to one of these "things were better in the old days" guys and say, "He likes to self-marginalize."

I rarely (if ever) refer to specific creative work as "crap" or "shit" even when I don't care for it. I think that's needless overkill and usually a conversation-stopper. All you can do when you encounter such rancor is to register your disagreement with it and move on. You certainly can't have a reasonable discussion in those situations. If there's any reasonable point there which can be argued it's probably that one of us is thinking his opinion is way more than just his opinion. So I guess the trick is to just remember that and to be aware that to mud-wrestle with someone means that even when you win, you wind up covered in mud. Or crap or shit or something you definitely don't want to be covered in.

As I've written here before, I don't like Halloween. I'm not a big fan of horror movies or of people making themselves up to look disfigured or like rotting corpses. One time when I was in the company of Ray Bradbury at a convention, someone shambled past us looking like they just rose up from a grave and Ray said something about how people parade about like that to celebrate life by mocking death. Maybe to some folks it's a celebration of life but to me, it's just ugly.

I've also never been comfy with the idea of kids going door-to-door to take candy from strangers. Hey, what could possibly go wrong with that? I did it a few years when I was but a child, not so much because I wanted to but because it seemed to be expected of me. I felt silly in the costume and when we went to neighbors' homes and they remarked how cute we were…well, I never liked to be cute in that way. People talk to you like you're a puppy dog. The man two houses down…before he gave me my treat, I thought he was going to tell me to roll over and beg for it.

Also, I've always been a fussy eater — an extension of my many food allergies. Even before I knew I had them, I was aware that some foods made me not feel great and I tried to avoid them. I would say that a good two-thirds of the candy I hauled home on a Halloween Eve was stuff I simply didn't want to eat…and I would have gotten very sick if I had. Into the trash can it went and I felt bad about it. Some nice neighbor had paid good money for it, after all.

And some of it, of course, was candy corn — the cole slaw of sugary treats. I promised to stop bashing candy corn on this site so that's all I'll say about that.

So I didn't like the dress-up part and I didn't like the trick-or-treating part. There were guys in my class at school who invited me to go along on Halloween when they threw eggs at people and overturned folks' trash cans and redecorated homes with toilet paper…and I never much liked pranks. One year the day after Thanksgiving, two friends of mine were laughing and bragging how they'd trashed some old lady's yard and I thought, "That's not funny. It's just being an a-hole."

I'm not writing this to try to change your mind about a holiday you might love. If you do, great. As long as you stay off my property, knock yourself out. But over the years, as I've told friends how I feel, I've been amazed how many agree with me. In a world where people now feel more free to say that which does not seem "politically correct," I feel less afraid to own up to my dislike of Halloween. About the only thing I ever liked about it was the second-best Charlie Brown special.

So that's why I'm home tonight and not up in West Hollywood wearing my Kim Davis costume. I'm fine with every other holiday. Just not this one. I do not believe there is a War on Christmas in this country. That's just something the Fox News folks dreamed up because they believe their audience needs to be kept in a perpetual state of outrage about something. But if there's ever a War on Halloween, I'm enlisting. And bringing the eggs.

The original Monty Python's Flying Circus TV show consisted of four seasons adding up to 45 episodes. The last season of six episodes was done without John Cleese (unless you count a brief cameo or two).

Cleese has often been asked why he left and I've heard him on many occasions just say he was bored with the repetition. Recently when he was asked about this, he gave a longer answer…

You may have heard that the Republican National Committee has announced that after the CNBC debate the other night, they will participate in no more debates involving NBC. Why? Ted Cruz gave the game away on Fox News on Thursday when he suggested debates moderated by Sean Hannity, Mark Levin, and Rush Limbaugh…

…in other words, moderators who will ask them questions they want to be asked. No one will ask anyone how come the math on his or her tax plan doesn't add up or how they can defend a past vote or financial association or why they seem to advocate one thing and do another. What they want is pure infomercial. With moderators like that, the candidates could have their answers prepared and just read them off TelePrompters.

They thought the CNBC moderators were disrespectful and interested in confrontation. That may be true, though I would think folks who brag about how they'll stand up to Putin could face a little of that. The CNBC interrogators sure didn't impress me as great journalists, not that a lot of folks do these days. But I think the real problem is that they did ask some questions that caused candidates to give answers they regretted and which may have hurt them. That's what the candidates want to stop.

As I've said repeatedly, I don't like these "debates." I think they distill important issues down to quick, incomplete sound bites. They always remind me of Miss America finalists being asked to summarize their plan for World Peace in 90 seconds. In every one, too many questions are answered, "I have a plan to fix this" and we never get around to hearing what that plan is.

I, for one, would like to have heard Mike Huckabee — an opponent of fetal tissue research and many scientific programs — explain what he would do to hasten the finding of cures for diabetes, heart disease, cancer, and Alzheimer's. My guess is it involves prayer, not raising taxes, eliminating F.D.A. regulations and creating new ways for private sector researcher firms to claim any damn thing they want and to soak sick, desperate people for remedies of questionable effectiveness.

You know Al Molinaro as Murray the Cop on the Odd Couple TV show (the Klugman-Randall version) and as Al on Happy Days. He appeared a lot of other TV shows including an NBC special that I wrote. I'd always heard he was very nice, thoroughly professional and that on a set, everyone loved him. During the two days I worked with him, that was exactly how it went.

Al was one of those great character actors — like Jack Somack and Burt Mustin — who came to it later in life. Al was successful in other businesses like real estate and he was in his forties (and financially successful) before he decided to pursue a new field…acting. He spent a decade or two doing bit parts and non-paying gigs before he finally began making a decent living in his second career.

I don't recall where it was but I once heard a story about how Al got discovered. I can't verify that it's true but it's such a good story I'm going to tell it anyway.

The way I heard it, an actors' group was putting on a play to showcase their members. They were going to invite every producer and agent they could there in the hope that they would get representation and/or jobs out of it. They selected a play that had lots of juicy, showy roles…but there was one part that no one wanted to do. It was tiny one with only three or four lines and it would not show anyone off in a way that would prompt a producer or agent to leap to his or her feet and say, "I want that person!"

So someone in the cast knew Al, they asked him and he agreed to take it. You've probably already guessed where this is going.

Opening night, they had the house packed with important folks. None of the main actors got any nibbles out of the event but at least one of the agents, seeing Al in his few minutes on stage, rushed back to the dressing room after the final curtain and asked Al, "Do you have an agent? If you don't, I'd like to be your agent." Al signed with the guy and within a week had several national commercials…which led to bigger, better things.

Is this story true? I dunno…maybe not. But I'd sure like to believe it is because Al seemed like such a good guy. He passed away yesterday at the age of 96 but will live forever in reruns.

I've already recommended my pal Kliph Nesteroff's fine new book, The Comedians, here. Now let me recommend that if you're in the Los Angeles area, you plan to attend his kick-off party. It's Wednesday, November 3 at the Cinefamily — or as some of us prefer to call it, The Silent Movie Theater over on Fairfax. Kliph will be showing rare and astounding clips of great comedians in action. Included will be Comedian Backstage, the notorious 1963 ABC documentary about Shelley Berman that he later felt had ruined his career.

Details and tickets are available on this page. If my schedule and my new knee permits, I'll be there.

Jonathan Chait explains how Marco Rubio, in selling his tax proposals, is counting on the fact that Americans don't know how to add. Hey, it's worked before for other candidates. Kevin Drum flat-out calls Rubio a liar.

My right-wing buddy Roger has been telling me that Hillary Clinton will lose because Americans don't trust her. Even if I buy some of the claims against her, who's going to beat her in the integrity category? Rubio, who seems to be deliberately misrepresenting his own proposals? Ben Carson, who says it's "propaganda" that he had an association with that company for which he did all those endorsement videos? Carly Fiorina, who swears by videos and statistics that no one else can see? Donald Trump, who keeps rewriting his own history and insulting whoever points that out? Hey, how about Jeb! Bush, who likes to pretend 9/11 didn't happen while his brother was president and that the Iraq War "kept us safe?"

It's going to be a long 374 days until the election.

The other day here, I linked to a video of Main Street, a barbershop quartet that did a funny medley of recent hit songs rendered in the barbershop style. Here they are on more traditional ground, performing "Lida Rose" from The Music Man, accompanied by a female barbershop troupe, the Treblemakers. I like this a lot…

Comedian and comedy writer Greg Fitzsimmons has come up with a novel way to punish Bill Cosby: Steal his material. I don't think I approve of this.