Warner Brothers Home Entertainment has had some complaints about missing content on their new release that is supposed to be an utterly complete collection of the Batman TV series — the one with Adam West, the one you can order here. A few minutes are absent here and there.

If you bought a set, read this about how to obtain replacement disks that will give you what you thought you were paying for.

Today on Stu's Show, the guest is Jerry Beck, who as you can see knows everyone of importance in the field of animation. Jerry will be talking about what's current in the cartoon biz, including what (if anything) we can expect to see released on home video soon…and no doubt host Stu Shostak will rant a bit about how the studios aren't doing enough in that area. They'll speak of what Christmas specials one should watch this year — you just missed Charlie Brown — and what new books are out and…oh, just listen in for a lively conversation.

Stu's Show can be heard live (almost) every Wednesday at the Stu's Show website and you can listen for free there. Webcasts start at 4 PM Pacific Time, 7 PM Eastern and other times in other climes. They run a minimum of two hours and sometimes go way longer. Today's will run long as they do whenever Jerry's on and after it's over, it like all Stu's Show episodes will be available for downloading from the Archives on that site. Downloads are a measly 99 cents each and you can get four shows for the price of three. And that's not a week-long Cyber Monday deal to lure you in. That's a genuine, year-round bargain.

We're guardedly looking forward to NBC's live telecast of Peter Pan tomorrow night. In the meantime, let's take a look at Laura Benanti's audition for any role in the show except the one she might actually have played. I have sat in on auditions that weren't a whole lot different from this one. Thanks to our pal James H. Burns and all the others who let me know about this…

Brian Fies, who's written some great graphic novels like Mom's Cancer sent me this…

Just writing to lend you some support on the idea that any writing is good writing. I started my working life as a newspaper reporter, put in more than 15 years as a science writer, and have produced a couple of graphic novels and webcomics. I find a lot of overlap.

Writing almost anything every day gives you a facility and confidence with language that you wouldn't gain otherwise. You learn what works and what doesn't, how to prod a reaction from a reader, and the incredible importance of clarity. One of the most valuable writing jobs I had was also one of the worst writing jobs I had: covering a season of high school basketball for a local newspaper. Since every high school basketball game is pretty much like any other, by the 15th or 20th I was really working hard to make my stories interesting for both me and my readers. It was a great exercise.

Even a "just the facts" news article or scientific paper needs to be structured and crafted to make its point effectively. I really look at everything I write as a form of journalism. The only difference is that when I'm writing fiction, I'm reporting on events and characters that don't actually exist. But it feels like the same process in my brain.

Writers need to write, and should write however they can.

Yeah, I'm a big believer in the philosophy, "You want to be a writer? Then write something." Over the years, I haven't had a lot of patience with people who ask if I can help them get a writing job…and when they get the job is when they intend to start writing. Writers need to be wary of writing for free or for bad pay…but there's nothing wrong with writing for yourself for free. In fact, you need to do that so you don't limit your writing to just what people are willing to pay you for at the moment. Or so you're still writing when they don't.

One of America's great cartoonists is 90 years old today. If a magic genie told me I could have the power to draw like anyone…well, at one point in my life I probably would have picked Wally Wood and then just stayed home all day and night drawing naked women. Then I would have considered Jack Kirby but I don't think even a magic genie could arrange that. I might well have selected Jack Davis, who was and still is incapable of drawing something that isn't lively and interesting and when he tried to be funny, funny.

He's also a very nice man who has been at it…well, he was in the first issue of MAD 62 years ago and he'd already been doing great work in comics for several years before that. His work has appeared everywhere — movie posters, book covers, Time Magazine, toys — and become a genuine part of Americana. I don't think he's on the Internet to read this but just in case he is: Thank you, Jack Davis, for all the wonderful pictures.

This article is headlined, "New Book Reveals Johnny Carson's Least Favorite Tonight Show Guest: Bob Hope." The headline doesn't really reflect the article, which just says that Johnny tired of having Bob's carefully-scripted, plug-my-special guest appearances. I suspect Johnny's actual "least favorite" guest would be someone who was rude and/or boring — something Hope never was — and who only appeared once.

But I'm not surprised that Mr. Carson got a bit fed up with Mr. Hope. Then again, I was on the Tonight Show set once when Bob visited and I did see them seem to get along.

As I've mentioned here before many times, there was a period in the seventies when I used to hang around the NBC Studios in Burbank and drop in on rehearsals or tapings of The Dean Martin Show, The Flip Wilson Show, Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In, the occasional Bob Hope special and other programs, including The Tonight Show, if it was in town. When I started my Burbankian lurking, Carson was still based in New York and visiting "Hollywood" two or three times a year for two or three weeks at a time.

Hope used Stage 1 or Stage 3, apparently depending on what other shows needed which facility at the moment. Laugh-In was usually on Stage 3, which is where Mr. Leno did his Tonight Show for much of its run. Johnny taped in Stage 1 and Hope would use that for his monologues. In a posting here a few years ago, I wrote the following…

About thirty seconds before Johnny introduced him, Hope strode into Stage 1 with the inevitable entourage. He was still reviewing a piece of paper with a couple of jokes on it as the band struck up his theme song. Then he handed the page to an aide, walked out to tumultuous applause, and sat down next to Carson, who expertly fed him the questions that elicited the just-studied jokes. The segment went about as well as such segments ever do, and my overall admiration was not so much at the wit but at the sheer expertise in the delivery. Bob and Johnny were both utterly in control and things went precisely the way both wanted them to.

At the first commercial break, Hope stepped out and told Johnny's studio audience that they were so good, he had decided to ask them to stick around after The Tonight Show was finished so that he could use them to tape the monologue for his special. The crowd almost gasped with delight. Hope explained that the rest of the special had been recorded a week or two back but he always did the monologue at the last minute so it could be more topical. He also explained that the stage we were in — Stage 1 — was his design. The steep rake was because when he was performing, he liked to be able to look up and see as many laughing faces as possible.

Sure enough, not one person budged from their seats as the Carson show concluded. A different curtain was flown in for Bob to perform in front of, and he took a few minutes to run through his cue cards with Barney McNulty. When all was in readiness, Hope stepped into position and did the monologue three times. The first time through, everyone laughed a lot. The second time through, they laughed a little less. And the third time through, they laughed more than the second time, because Hope began screwing with the wording and muttering things like, "We'll cut that one."

Johnny Carson was just off-camera throughout and at one point in the middle of the third take, Bob stepped over to him and whispered something that I suspect was very dirty, and Carson got hysterical. Then Hope thanked everyone for sticking around — like they'd all done him a favor —and he and the entourage disappeared. Again, my overwhelming impression was of efficiency more than inspiration. The following Monday night, what aired was most of the first take with maybe five jokes cut, and perhaps one or two inserted from Take Two.

I do remember a couple of times when Hope was a guest and Carson made him work for his plug. One time, he had to do a stand-up routine. Another time, Johnny insisted Bob do a little dance routine. Hope was a pretty good hoofer. Johnny acted like it was a big joke, forcing Bob to do more than just sit in the guest chair and talk about his special…but I suspect there was something behind it.

The most interesting thing in the article is when Carson is quoted as telling associates, when Bob was getting on in years and becoming a parody of himself, "If I ever end up like that, guys, I want you to shoot me." If you have ever wondered why Johnny quit when he did and got off the stage, it probably has a lot to do with that…and not just Hope but also Berle, Groucho and a few others.

Here's a long (44 minute) and pretty good interview with Woody Allen conducted on British TV. The interviewer is Michael Parkinson, who has been doing this kind of thing forever. He has a good flair for conversation and, obviously, a guy somewhere with a laugh machine to sweeten the audience. But it's still a fine chat, including some candid thoughts on Mr. Allen's marriage to Soon-Yi…

Feeling much better after a night's sleep and some Ibuprofen. Another day or three and I think all the damage will be undone. Thanks to all who wrote the e-mailed equivalent of "Get Well" cards but I think I'm already doing that.

Last night, I did something I haven't done in a long time. I fell down. I can't remember the last time that happened.

Around 7:30, I walked to a nearby restaurant to pick up a "to go" order. On the way back…well, I have no idea what happened but crossing a street, I suddenly found myself plunging for the asphalt. I dropped the bag of dinner and hit the pavement with my left hand and right knee but mainly with my left knee. It hurt like hell but my first thought was, "I've got to get out of the middle of the street." If a car had come speeding around the corner, the driver might not have seen me there on the ground in time to stop.

So in grand agony, I crawled back to the curb, dragging the bag behind me and with great effort, rotated my torso up to sit on that curb. Geez, it was painful. I briefly thought of hauling out my cell phone and calling 911 because I wasn't sure I could walk but I thought, "I'll sit here five minutes and then decide." Five minutes later, I was starting to feel better so I ruled out summoning aid. (I didn't get any from anyone who drove by, including several bicyclists. I guess if they even noticed me, they thought I wanted to sit on that curb. Then again, I didn't try to flag them down or anything.)

Another five minutes and I decided maybe I could walk. The hard part was getting up from the low seated position with nothing to hold onto. Somehow, I managed it. This time, I crossed that street very carefully…and after a block or so of staggering, I decided I didn't need an emergency room: Just rest and probably some bandages. Once home, I cleaned dried blood off my knee and then applied the miracle cure…

As I explained here, Bactine was the all-purpose magic drug for external injuries in our home when I was growing up. It's just some sort of antiseptic but it works wonders, especially when applied by your mother. She's not around anymore but I tried to imagine her squirting the stuff on my wound and that instantly reduced the hurt by half. If she'd done it, I'm sure I'd have been pain-free in an instant.

Even applied by me, it worked okay. I slapped on bandages and then set about the almost as agonizing task of salvaging my dinner. The bag had two foil tins containing separate meals and both had opened within the sack and intermingled. I briefly thought of spritzing it all with Bactine but with a little artful surgery, I managed to separate the entrees, put one in the fridge for the next day and took the other to my desk to nibble on while I worked.

As a human being who spends an indecent part of each day sitting here at the keyboard, I am aware of the uncanny restorative power of my own chair. It's almost as effective as Bactine. When I got back from Miami last week, I couldn't convince my body I was actually home until it was parked in this chair. So I'll be fine. Sore for a while but fine. Right now, my left knee and arm hurt a lot but only when in certain positions.

I still don't know how it is that I fell. It felt like I stumbled over something but there was nothing there. I always tell people when I'm asked to dance, "Sorry, I'm the kind of guy who trips over latitude and longitude lines." That's a joke but I feel like last night, maybe I really did. From now on, I'm not taking any chances. I'm staying far, far from the Equator.

My pal Tom Galloway wrote in to take issue with something I said in this posting. I was writing about a job a writer might get while he was trying to break into writing for the screen…

Have to disagree with you when you wrote "Ideally, that might be in a related field — say, writing tech manuals while you wait to sell your screenplay."

Um, what I do is technical writing aka writing tech manuals. And the only relation that has to writing a screenplay is that it involves typing words (really, we try to avoid deliberately writing fiction : -)). Trust me, writing screenplays would not be an option for me if tech writing wasn't working; it's really two very different skill sets.

In particular, a significant reason I get the relative big bucks for tech writing is that I have a background as a software developer and knowledge about what I'm writing about. When I was at Google, it was a de facto requirement for tech writers that they have some development experience in addition to being good writers. At one point, early on, a power that be gave us the mandate to "hire a Stanford English major" to save on salary. We hired one, but were very careful to make sure there were alternate career paths available to them if, as we strongly suspected, it didn't work out.

They did a good job on what they did, but weren't able to write on any significantly technically complex topic. My evaluation was that to advance, they'd have to start taking programming courses. Instead, they moved into one of those alternate positions that they were much more suited for, and from what I could tell were very successful in it.

In general, I've found if a developer puts down tech writers, they've only worked with writers without development experience who didn't understand what they were writing about or required a lot of hand holding by the developer to get something out.

And note that I don't apply for jobs in, say, the biotech field, where I don't have the tech background for those manuals.

Now, consumer user manuals, that might be a reasonable alternative, assuming the writer can pick up the skills needed for that (how much detail is needed, can they write at an appropriate level for the product's general audience, can they write procedures that don't skip from A to D because the writer thinks B and C are obvious…but to many people they aren't, etc.). But if I was in a hiring role for a technical writer and someone's résumé came over with only screenplay experience and no tech background, they wouldn't make it past my first reading.

Well, I probably should have used a slightly different term than "tech manuals." What I was thinking of was a friend of mine who works for software companies. They have their technical experts write out info that needs to be conveyed to the consumers and my friend rewrites it, translating it into the kind of English a layperson can (hopefully) understand. I think I could do that…so I can imagine someone doing that for a time while they try to sell their novel or screenplay or other hunk of creative writing. (I could not in a million years do what you do, Tom.)

And I wasn't suggesting that writing tech manuals qualifies one to write screenplays — or vice-versa, though I'll bet there are folks out there who could do both well.  Most people who can write decently can write more than one kind of thing decently and all writing does have certain overlapping skills. You need to develop a writer's work habits and the ability to meet deadlines and to self-edit and spell and punctuate and to write what you write with some clarity and purpose.

My main point was that if you want to break into the fields of writing or drawing or acting or any of the creative arts, don't put yourself in a position of monetary jeopardy. Get a real source of income until you have one from your chosen profession. And if possible, get one that has some relevance, however tenuous, to what you really want to do. A job with flexible hours is also helpful. And if you want to be a writer, any kind of writing work is preferable to a job that does not involve writing.

The very first time my then-partner Dennis and I went into the network to pitch an idea, the producer who took us in introduced us as writers who merely hadn't written television…yet. Dennis had considerable experience in advertising. I'd written loads and loads of comic books of famous characters. Now, that didn't make us qualified to write television but it got us a skootch closer than if Dennis had been driving trucks and I'd been fixing them.

We were, at least, professional writers. It has been my experience that most people are impressed if you can make a steady living writing anything…because so many people have not. And they do recognize that almost all writers start with some kind of writing other than the kind in which they hope to labor long and well.

I might as well mention three things about that first network meeting. One is that the folks in the room — this was at CBS — were very impressed with what we pitched that day. At least, they said they were.  It was a little too much like another show they had in development so they passed…but they said (I'd like to think this was true) that if they hadn't bought that other pitch, they'd have bought ours. It was really a very good meeting if you overlook the fact that we didn't make the sale. They did recommend us for other things.

Secondly: The producer who took us in was a fine gent named Herb Solow, whose name a lot of folks will recall from the closing credits on the original Star Trek. Herb had run Paramount Studios and was now elsewhere, trying to sell shows. (Soon after, without our involvement, he sold The Man from Atlantis.) We developed some other things with him, none of which sold, but he was very supportive of our careers at a time when no one else was.

Lastly: I don't think I've told this story but when we went into CBS that day, we were all ushered into the office of one of the heavyweight vice-presidents there…and then there was a wait of a few minutes while they gathered up all the folks who were going to come in and listen to these two kids tell their idea for a great new sitcom. So there we were, waiting — and my eyes drifted to a TV which was on.

On the screen was Charo — you all remember Charo — and she was talking about something when suddenly, she started yelling something and out came this stream of obscenities, some of them in Spanish but a lot of them in English. This was the mid-seventies, way before cable, and I had never heard the "f" word used before on TV, especially daytime TV.

I looked around and none of the other folks in the room except maybe Dennis noticed or cared. Charo had just used every one of Mr. Carlin's seven dirty words about nine times apiece on CBS network television and no one was reacting or panicking or hollering to take her off the air or anything.

And then I figured it out. This wasn't live television we were watching. It was a monitor showing what was being rehearsed down in Studio 31 or 33 or 41 or one of those. I think it was where they were doing The Carol Burnett Show. I started laughing and I think one of the CBS execs in the room thought I was laughing at something he'd just said. Anyway, it got the meeting off to a good start.  So maybe I owe a bit of my career since then to Charo and her filthy mouth.

The story of Shane, the world's greatest Walmart employee.

Donna McKechnie, Pamela Myers and Susan Browning perform their big number from the original Broadway production of Company. This was done for a 1982 pay cable special called Showstoppers that was hosted, as you can see, by Tom Bosley…

Frank Rich in conversation with Chris Rock.

In 1962, a man named Allan Sherman came almost out of nowhere to become, for a brief time, the biggest name in comedy records. As a purveyor of funny song parodies, he remains unmatched, and his rags-to-riches tale is one of the great show business success stories.

Born Allan Copelon in Chicago on November 30, 1924, the man who would later be known as Allan Sherman endured a rocky childhood. His father was a race car driver and an entrepreneur in questionable businesses who walked out on the family when Allan was six. His mother (whose maiden name of Sherman he later assumed) was a "flapper" who was perpetually moving from city to city, occasionally parking young Allan with other relatives for months at a time while she tried to set up her life in some new town. All in all, he attended twenty-one different schools. After flunking out of college and being discharged from the Army for health reasons, he went to New York (arriving on V-J Day in 1945) with aspirations of becoming a top songwriter and/or performer. He eventually achieved both but it took a while.

At first, no one wanted his songs — or the hilarious song parodies he liked to sing at parties — and the only work he could procure was as a lower-tier comedy writer on radio shows and eventually in early television. That he was able to secure those had a lot to do with a gag file that he and his then-new bride, Dee, compiled. They clipped gags out of joke books and old magazines and pasted them in scrapbooks categorized by subject. Sherman later said that his tenure on some writing jobs lasted as long as his file on the show's topic held out.

For a long time, he seemed to be setting some sort of record for being hastily fired from each new position. Then in 1950, he and a writer friend, Howard Merrill, sold a game show idea to Mark Goodson and Bill Todman, television's most successful producers of such programs. Industry legend has it that when Sherman and Merrill pitched the idea, Goodson and Todman replied that it was a blatant copy of their hit show, What's My Line? and Sherman responded, "Well, you might as well imitate your own program because if you don't, someone else will." Somehow, that logic appealed to the producers because a year later, the show — entitled I've Got a Secret — debuted on CBS. 1951 was also when he recorded his first (and for ten years, only) comedy record, singing two of the silly songs he liked to sing at parties. The record did not succeed but, happily for the Sherman family, the game show did. It became a long-running hit and he stayed with it, eventually moving up to the title of Producer.

In the mid-fifties, Sherman began to write and produce TV specials in his spare time, winning much acclaim while continuing to produce I've Got a Secret. This caused Goodson-Todman to increasingly believe he was spreading himself too thin and in 1958, he was fired from the show he'd co-created. He immediately resumed his old pattern of going from job to job, never holding one for very long. During this time, he explored several possible routes into performing but none succeeded. He was well known within the entertainment industry for performing at parties but that was as far as his gift for parodies took him.

In 1961, he moved to Los Angeles to produce the short-lived game show, Your Surprise Package. When it was cancelled, he managed to secure a job as the Producer of a new talk show Steve Allen was doing for the Westinghouse Broadcast Group. In one of the more embarrassing show business firings of its day, Sherman managed to get terminated before the show debuted, and he spent many months looking for work and not finding it. The saving grace was that, as in New York, he had become the darling of the Show Biz Party crowd. His next door neighbor was Harpo Marx, and both Harpo and Steve Allen kept getting Sherman invited to parties and encouraging him to sing his song parodies. With encouragement from party-goers like Jack Benny and Jerry Lewis, he began shopping his songs around to record companies…but his biggest boosters were Hollywood agent Bullets Durgom, and a composer-arranger-record company exec named Lou Busch. Busch had the musical abilities that Sherman lacked and was able to take his lyrics and turn them into recordable songs. In '62, Warner Brothers Records agreed to put out an album of those songs.

Sherman later said he wrote the first record in three weeks, but some of the tunes appear to have been ones he'd performed at parties for years. Several comedy writers would later claim to have helped or outright ghosted much of his material, including for the first album — an assertion Sherman denied. He did receive major assistance from the music skills of Lou Busch, called by some the "unsung hero" of Allan Sherman's stardom. Among other contributions, Busch was responsible for the deadpan nature of the accompaniment. Lush, serious arrangements only made Sherman's silly lyrics and untrained voice seem funnier.

My Son, the Folk Singer was released in October and quickly became one of the fastest-selling records in history. His success would last less than ten years but it would leave behind a number of very funny records. He passed away in 1973. Today would have been his 90th birthday.

I never met Mr. Sherman and in a way, I'm kinda glad. The one distant contact we had was unpleasant and I've since met a lot of folks who knew him and didn't get along with him in the way I would have wanted to. Still, his work meant so much to me that I have nothing but good thoughts about the man. And when a reader of this site, Derek Tague, messaged me that today Sherman would have been 90, I felt I oughta say something. He deserves to be more remembered than he is.

Here's a good interview with Eric Idle on Spamalot — an interview recorded the day after the show opened on Broadway…