Pundits are assuming that the next G.O.P. nominee for president will be someone from this list: Jeb Bush, Ben Carson, Chris Christie, Ted Cruz, Mike Huckabee, Bobby Jindal, John Kasich, Rand Paul, Mike Pence, Rick Perry, Rob Portman, Marco Rubio, Paul Ryan, Rick Santorum or Scott Walker. The current CNN/ORC polling, which is close to meaningless about 2016 but perhaps of some significance now, puts Bush at the top of the pile with 23%, followed by Christie with 13% and Carson at 7%. That's among self-identified Republicans plus Independents who lean Republican. (You can read a PDF of the full results here.)

If I were on that list, I'd be humiliated to be polling below Ben Carson who has no experience and nothing to offer besides nutcase theories about Democrats being evil and on the Soviet payroll. Huckabee, Paul, Rubio, Ryan, Cruz and the rest of them are below Carson.

Cruz, Jindal, Perry and five others poll below "Someone Else," which is a slightly nicer way of saying "None of these guys." When you see reporters talk about some of them as serious candidates for '16, remember that they're polling 6% or below in their own party. Santorum is getting a lot of press lately for a guy who's at 2% in a poll with a three-point margin of error.

I'm not sure why Mitt Romney is not on the list but I imagine if he were, he'd be either the #1 or #2 pick, mostly due to name recognition, and he'd knock guys like Santorum or Kasich down to negative numbers, which is almost where Pence and Portman already are.

But here's the question in the poll that interests me…

If you had to choose, would you rather see the Republican party nominate a presidential candidate who agrees with you on every issue that matters to you but may not be able to beat the Democratic candidate, or a presidential candidate who can beat the Democratic candidate but does not agree with you on every issue that matters to you?

At the moment, the number who'd choose to lose with someone who's with them on every issue is about 29%. I guess the premise there is that if they keep nominating ideologically-pure Republicans, eventually one of them has to win. I would also guess that once there is a real Democratic nominee these folks can loathe by name, that number will decline a tad.

Then again, the respondents are probably assuming they already know the name of the dread enemy. The current list of possible Democratic nominees seems to have but one name on it and that name is Clinton — the name people who hate Obama hate almost as much as they hate Obama. (And yes, there's been talk of Elizabeth Warren or even Bernie Sanders running and I suppose some folks still think Joe Biden may be hovering. I can't imagine anyone who despises Hillary despising those three choices any less.)

On the other hand, around 70% of Republicans and Independents in this poll said they'd rather vote for a Republican who can win. That might be enough of a margin to drag the rest along.

So here's what I'm thinking: I keep hearing Jeb Bush can't be the nominee because he is not anti-immigration, he supports Common Core, he has some shady personal financial history, he was involved with a company that profited from Obamacare, he has never signed the "Never Raise Taxes" pledge, he increased government spending in his state…and oh, yeah. He's named Bush. A lot of Republicans don't want to defend or even see mention of the last Bush's stint in the Oval Office. You can keep George W. hidden in 2016 but not if you nominate his brother.

And my thought is that if none of that stuff is disqualifying to the 70%, maybe it doesn't matter, except that the 29% is going to be real, real angry when most of them vote for him. Which is why a year from now, I'll bet the list of Republicans who might get the nomination is missing half the names that are presently on it and contains at least six who aren't. And if Jeb isn't on it, it won't be because of the above reasons. I can sure imagine him as the ultimate viable candidate, especially if he can get Florida. No Republican can win the presidency in 2016 without Florida.

In January of 2004 — darn near eleven years ago — I posted this article about a very wonderful man I knew. I felt like posting it again…

Over on Pico Boulevard in West Los Angeles, there's a McDonald's just a few blocks east of Overland. It was built on an interesting piece of land…the former location of Heyler Automotive, which was a terrific place to take your car to be fixed. Heyler Automotive was opened in 1937 by John and Emilie Heyler and in the fifties, they turned the operation over to their son, John Junior, more commonly known as Jack. As a mechanic, Jack Heyler was too good to be true. He was nice, he was honest, and he knew his business. When I took my old Buick in to be fixed, if it wasn't something major, he'd do it for nothing or almost nothing. If it was something major, the job was done on-time and correct, and for far less money than someone else might have charged. You didn't even need to ask for an estimate; you just knew you'd get the cheapest price that was humanly possible.

Most of all, Jack was accessible. At any given moment, he had cars all over the place needing immediate repair and at least a dozen employees to supervise. Still, if you needed to talk to him for car-related advice, he would always make the time. At first, I figured I was getting special treatment because I was a neighbor. He and his lovely family lived three doors down the street from me and my parents. But after I sent a few friends to him and they received excellent service without even dropping my name, I was really impressed. Jack Heyler proved it was possible to run a good, benevolent, efficient business and still make money.

Unfortunately, Jack's health began to misfire, most of the woes falling under the category of Progressive Pulmonary Illness. Some of that was almost certainly related to a lifetime of breathing exhaust fumes and handling old motor oil and other toxicities. At about the same time, the McDonald's people decided they really, really wanted to open an outlet in that area, and Heyler Automotive seemed to rest on the only hunk of land that would work. After turning down huge offers for years, Jack finally took one. In 1983, the garage was torn down, the Golden Arches went up, and Jack Heyler retired from the automotive business. Sort of.

He did not sit idle. Oh, he devoted some time to his boat and to his study of old trains and planes. Mainly though, he became a full-time volunteer for many groups, state and national, that sought to regulate automotive safety and emission standards. Even when his respiratory problems became acute and all recreational activities had to be curtailed, Jack dragged himself to meetings (or later, rolled in via wheelchair) to do what he could to lobby for safer, cleaner-burning vehicles and improved handling of chemical waste relating to cars. He was a very effective witness, testifying before various city councils and state legislatures around the country, as well as Congress, and some called him the Father of Onboard Diagnostic Technology II, which is standard on all new cars and which allows emissions (and other) problems to be quickly located and corrected.

John "Jack" Heyler died the day after Christmas at the age of 74. The Los Angeles Times, in a piece that unfortunately cannot be accessed online, said that his efforts resulted "in major improvements in national and international standardization and vehicle emission control." Even before we lost him, the California Automotive Service Councils of California made him the first inductee into their Hall of Fame and the Service Technicians Society established the Jack Heyler Award which encourages leadership in that field. In 2001, he received the prestigious Outstanding Achievement Award from the Automotive Aftermarket Industry Association.

The last time I saw Jack was maybe a year ago. I was visiting my mother and he was being brought home from a medical treatment, gaunt and frail in a wheelchair and with oxygen lines plugged into his nostrils. As they lowered him from the van on a little elevator, he saw me down the block and waved, and I ran down to shake his hand and say hello. He immediately asked me, "How's that Lexus running for you?" I told him, "Great. Almost as good as that old Buick Skylark you used to keep running," and that was about all I had the opportunity to say. If I'd had another moment, I'd have added something like, "I can't tell you how much I admire what you've done, devoting so much time and energy to helping clean up the automotive business. You are as wonderful and decent a human being as I have ever met."

Since I didn't get to tell him, I thought I'd tell you.

Joe Conason on why it's a good idea to work towards normalizing relationships with Cuba. It's either that or sticking with a policy that hasn't even begun to achieve its desired goal for fifty-some-odd years.

One might also note overwhelming public support for ending the embargo. Even Republicans favor it, which is hard to believe when you realize that Obama does, too.

The current Broadway cast of Jersey Boys — Joseph Leo Bwarie, Quinn VanAntwerp, Richard H. Blake and Nathan Scherich — go on Good Morning America and "perform" (I think they're lip-syncing) a medley from the show…

How to take care of your Smartphone battery. Right here.

My pal James H. Burns has an intriguing tale called "How Comics May Have Saved My Life." You'll have to go read it to find out how that could be.

From September of '05, we reprise this little tale. Just reading it again caused my mouth to feel a bit numb…

So about an hour ago, I'm leaving my dentist's office with a temporary filling and a cheek so full of Novocaine, I must look like Dizzy Gillespie on that side. I get in one of the building's three elevators and press the button to take me to the Parking Level, which is one floor below the Lobby Level. The elevator takes me to the Lobby Level, then heads back up.

The elevator fills with other folks on its way up and down again, and though I have the Parking Level button pushed and lit, it again goes no farther down than Lobby Level before ascending again.

This time on the way down, I get off at said Lobby Level and change elevators…and this one, miraculously, actually goes down to the Parking Level. There is another bonus in that it also contains one of the most stunningly beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. She's in her early twenties, she's blonde and tan and has great posture, and her entire ensemble looks like it was crocheted out of the string from an old Duncan Yo-Yo. My mind races to think of something clever to say, just so I might see her smile in my direction…but I don't have time and, besides, I'm not sure I can speak without drooling all over myself. Not that she probably hasn't seen that before…and from males who haven't just spent two hours having their molars drilled.

Down on Parking Level, I attempt to explain the elevator problem to the one of the Valet Parking Guys so he can report it but there are two problems, one being that my mouth doesn't work so well. The other is that this Valet Parking Guy is vastly more interested in serving the gorgeous blonde lady. He is also interested in servicing her. As he delivers her car — a gleaming red Corvette — he declines a $2.00 tip and instead tells her, "I will gladly accept your phone number."

I wince at the clumsy come-on but to my surprise, the tan one rattles off what she says is her number. In fact, she repeats it twice so he can write it down. Then she announces — in language more appropriate for a brothel or even a Pat McCormick Memorial — that he is welcome to come by and they will perform the sexual act of his choice. For a moment, the valet believes he is about to receive the greatest gratuity in the history of parking lots and then she adds, "Bring cash. I'm not cheap."

She departs and the V.P.G. sadly brings me my car. I hand him a couple of bucks and tell him, since he knows I was standing there and heard it all, "You should probably always take the money."

He sighs and says, "It's just as well. We share tips here and I don't know how I could have divided her with the other guys."

Pat O'Neill points me towards Andrew Sullivan's thoughts on appearing on the last Colbert Report. Am I reading too much into his words to note that Sullivan makes no mention of another political satirist who often has him on as a guest, Bill Maher? Probably. Anyway, thanks, Pat.

Every so often on this blog, I astound myself with the utter triviality of something I post. I am about to do this again…

One of the amazing things about the finale on The Colbert Report was that they chose to do it live (that is, without tape stops or edits) and this presented a Herculean task for the camerafolks, the director and his crew — especially since the director ran out and joined the throng — and especially for the stage manager(s). The live audience obviously saw all those celebs before we home viewers did. The screaming they did was for who they could see on the stage and they probably weren't even looking at the monitors to see who was on camera at any given moment.

Getting all those bodies out there and (mostly) in the right places was impossible and I'd be fascinated to know how much rehearsal they had, if everyone had a mark on the floor, how they handled stars who arrived late, etc. And where the heck did Gloria Steinem think she was going?

But here's the real trivial thing I noticed. Cookie Monster was, of course, in the window over the fireplace. With eight thousand other things to think about, whoever was directing at that moment or whoever was operating the camera still had enough attention to detail to notice that the top of Muppeteer David Rudman's head was visible in the shot and they moved the shot slightly to the left to correct for that. (Later on, Mr. Rudman's scalp gets in again…and so, apparently unintended, does one of the stage managers.)

Here's the video with names attached. Notice how someone caught and fixed that little mistake that only someone like me would have noticed…

And here's some footage shot backstage by Katie Couric. Some of the talk would make you think Colbert was retiring from show business instead of moving over to the same start time on CBS. And I disagree with those who are suggesting that will turn out to be the same thing…

Megan Garber tells why she was disappointed with the final episode of The Colbert Report. Actually, his whole last week felt to me like he and his writers had already cleaned out their offices. They always had such a high capacity to amaze us before that.

Something I've been thinking about with that big crowd scene at the end that looked like someone just hired Sergio to draw celebrities: There were a lot of people in that mob who hate each other. Dan Savage and Mike Huckabee. Matt Taibbi and Henry Kissinger. Keith Olbermann and everyone except Barry Manilow and (maybe) Cookie Monster. I wonder if in a subtle way, Colbert and his crew had that in mind; that the unspoken subtext of the whole thing was, "Look, people may have differences to the point of accusing one another of being evil and causing the deaths of thousands…but give them a chance to appear on a much-watched TV show and they'll put them all aside and sing like the Whos in How the Grinch Stole Christmas!"

If that's what Colbert was thinking, maybe I like his last show a little more.

That, believe it or not, is me and as you can see, I'm reading a Little Golden Book of Frosty the Snowman. I don't know when the book was issued but I was issued in 1952.

I have a vague recollection of this book and of being mystified by the whole concept of snow. We lived in Los Angeles and I did not see snow in person until I was around eleven. One Winter afternoon, feeling I should experience it, my parents dressed me in my warmest clothing and my father drove us up to the mountains, a few hours from L.A.

I was not particularly impressed with the stuff. What was around had fallen a few days earlier and it was more like crushed ice by then…and for the most part, not all that clean. I remember trying to make a small snowman and realizing within seconds that all those Christmas specials had deceived me as to how simple that was. I'd somehow expected something more like cold, firm mashed potatoes.  My folks assured me it was easier right after the snow had fallen but I still felt misled.  On TV, it always looked like white Play-Doh.

We planned to spend the whole afternoon in this mountain area and a friend had loaned me a sled which we brought along in the trunk. My father hauled it out and placed it atop a small incline so I could lie down on it and sled my way down the incline. I did, found it unremarkable and then turned to my parents and asked, "Can we go home now?"  We ate lunch and then did.

Maybe if I'd had some friends along to lob snowballs at or something, I'd have enjoyed the snow more but I decided I could live without it. Matter of fact, on the drive back, I thanked my parents for moving to Southern California before I was born.

Yes, yes…I understand snow can create beautiful, picture postcard scenery around you. So can a clear, sunny day and no one has to shovel it.

Years later in traveling, I occasionally found myself surrounded by snow for a few days at a time. There was one year in New York when a major, airport-closing blizzard hit the day I was scheduled to leave so I had to stay. Fortunately, I had the right clothes along and was at the Sherry-Netherland Hotel with someone else paying. It was fascinating to watch how New Yorkers and their city employees handled it but that was the only upside of the whole experience.

Over that weekend alone, I had enough of snow to last anyone a lifetime. I also experienced snow once when I was in Detroit, once while I was attending my grandmother's funeral in Hartford, a couple of times in Muncie and even once — for about twenty minutes — in Las Vegas.

Snow in Vegas was interesting because there were tourists in Hawaiian shirts, sandals and shorts who treated it like, "Oh, look what the hotels here arranged for our amusement!" As a phenomenon of nature, it seemed about as credible as the volcano that used to go off hourly outside The Mirage. And what it mainly did was to force people off The Strip and into the nearest buildings, which were almost all casinos. So the brief snowstorm probably boosted profits at the craps tables and I think I saw one hooker in a parka.  (It's getting harder to identify the hookers in Vegas not because they don't look like hookers but because everyone else does.)

I'm not knocking where you live because it snows there…and I'm sure you can come up with reasons aplenty why you'd rather live there than where I do. Fine.  I'll even admit I might have more affection for it if it had been part of my childhood. I just don't like snow…not as much as I don't like cole slaw but I don't like snow. If you want to change my mind, arrange for it to be more like white Play-Doh. That might make it fun.

This is from June of 2005 on this site. It's the story of the Dell Comics Club, a promotion by the folks at Dell Comics. I should have mentioned that as a kid, I had real bad luck ordering things through the mail. Things I ordered out of comic books rarely came…or if they did, they were months late and/or not as advertised. It was a valuable lesson and I'm more than half-serious when I suggest that every kid oughta get screwed out of a few bucks early in life. It may help that person avoid being screwed when they get older and more money is on the line.

Some folks wrote in after this ran to suggest I hadn't noted a significant bit of irony: I was unable to join the Dell Comics Club but years later, I managed to join the company, writing many of the same comic books I read as a lad. Well, not exactly. I'm not sure if it would qualify as irony if I did do that but I actually never worked for Dell. I worked for Western Publishing Company, which was the firm that not only printed the comics for Dell but which created the comic books they published. This arrangement confuses so many people that years ago, I wrote this page to explain the confusing relationship 'twixt Dell and Western. Now, here's the story of my Lucky Penny Pocket Piece, which sets by the very computer keyboard on which I am now typing…

I learned to read from comic books, mostly from Dell Comics published between around 1957 and 1960. I read most of them and I had a subscription — a birthday gift from some relative — to Walt Disney's Comics and Stories. The rest, I bought off the newsstand…or my father would say, "Pick out a couple," and I'd pick out a couple and he'd buy them for me. Also, every so often, we'd cruise by a second-hand bookstore where they had a pile of used comics for a nickel each, six for a quarter. I would, of course, get six.

Every so often, a Dell comic would carry a subscription ad on the back cover like the one below. (That's a reduced section. You can see the whole ad by clicking on it.) One day in 1959, on the rear of an issue of Looney Tunes, I came across the offer depicted. For one dollar, you could receive twelve issues of Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies…so right there, you saved money and you also received the security of knowing you wouldn't miss an issue. But, like they say in bad infomercials these days, that's not all! You also got a handsome membership certificate in the Dell Comics Club and a Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece.

How could I pass that up? Never mind scoring $1.20 worth of comic books for $1.00. I suddenly wanted to belong to the Dell Comics Club. I wanted to belong and to feel a kinship with my fellow Dell Comics Clubbers and, of course, flash my Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece for any and all to see.

Joining was not a simple thing since they wanted you to cut the coupon off the back cover, and I wasn't about to deface a comic book that way. In fact, it occurred to me that maybe this was an initiation test trick. Anyone who would cut up their comic book was not worthy of belonging to the Dell Comics Club and would be summarily rejected. So I made my father take the issue of Looney Tunes to work with him the next day and, when no one was looking, make a copy of the back cover on the office thermofax machine. My father did a lot of silly things to make his son happy and this was one of the less painful. Then we filled out the copy and he wrote me a check for a dollar, made payable to "Dell Publishing Co., Inc." and we sent it off. I was crushed to see that the next day's mail did not include my first issue, membership certificate and Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece. Impatiently, I went back to the ad to check for any fine print that might indicate how long it would take for my goodies to arrive…and that is when I made a horrifying discovery.

The comic with the offer was from 1954.

It was one of those old ones I'd picked up at a second-hand store…in such good condition that it had seemed like a current issue. I had ordered from a comic that was five years old. (My excuse: I was only seven years old.) Feeling a bit foolish, I decided to say nothing and to wait and see what I did receive. Maybe the Dell Comics Club was holding open its membership for me? Just maybe?

No such luck. A few weeks later, I received a different Dell premium — a couple of Huckleberry Hound posters which I saw advertised as a subscription bonus in current issues. No membership certificate. No Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece. Adding insult to injury or maybe injury to insult, I also began receiving a monthly subscription to Tom and Jerry comics. Never understood that. I imagined some guy at the Dell company going, "Hey, you know that kid who ordered the Looney Tunes subscription? Well, he was stupid enough to order from an old issue so he doesn't deserve Looney Tunes. Send him Tom and Jerry, instead!"

But that's how I never joined the Dell Comics Club…and how I missed several issues of Looney Tunes. When I was in my thirties, I decided to rectify the second problem. I decided to fill out my collection of Looney Tunes and, by searching dealers' tables at comic conventions, I was able to do this. Got 'em all…and back when the prices were low enough to do it for a buck or three an issue. Since the Dell Comics Club was long defunct — I presumed, since by then the Dell Comics company sure was — there was no chance of rectifying my childhood trauma by joining.

However…

There's a reader of this site named Mark Thorson. He's one of several who won't let a typo sit on this site for more than about three minutes. If I spell a word wrong at 8:34, I have a message from Thorson at 8:37. Anyway, the other day he wrote not to correct a mistake but to ask me about an eBay auction for a lucky charm relating to Dell Comics. Could it be?

I hustled my mouse over to eBay, bid…and, yes, I am now the proud owner of a Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece. Have a look…

And here's the other side…

Okay, so it's not exactly like being a member but it's close. It says I'm a member and, you know, it's not like someone can run a check and find out I'm not. In fact, I hereby declare myself President of the Dell Comics Club. And vice-president. And secretary-treasurer and everything else. Try and stop me. After all, I'm the guy with the Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece.

And that's pretty much all there is to this story. I just wanted to show off my new acquisition and…oh, wait. I should mention that my Dell Comics Club Lucky Penny Pocket Piece also says I will have good luck. This will be nice…though I suppose it would have been nicer if it had commenced in 1957. I've missed out on 43 years of good luck. Heck, if I'd been lucky back then, I might have gotten my Looney Tunes subscription.

The film version of Into the Woods which was released today was not the first attempt to turn the Broadway musical into a movie. In the early nineties, Jim Henson's company had a go at it, apparently not long after Mr. Henson's untimely passing. Here's an article about that effort…which frankly doesn't sound bad to me. (I'm assuming neither of the two different casts from two different readings would have been the final cast of the film).

• I wonder how many people paying to watch The Interview online realize they're giving their credit card information to Sony.

From John Cleese's recent book tour, here he is in conversation with Adam Savage of Mythbusters…