I don't think it's still active but there used to be a group here in Los Angeles called the New York Alumni Association. It was an association of former New Yorkers that assembled once a year for a big party and a show. I went one year as a guest. The affair was held on the grounds of Beverly Hills High School and they had hot dogs and pizza and other delicacies from New York, then there was a big ceremony honoring some famous person from New York.

It was at this event that I met Dave Barry, a longtime stand-up comedian who I knew from his appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show and other programs. I also knew him as an uncelebrated cartoon voice actor. Barry didn't do a lot of work in animation because his stand-up career took him away from Los Angeles for weeks at a time so studios were hesitant to hire him to voice recurring characters. But when he was in town, Warner Brothers often hired him for its cartoons. He was an impressionist and whenever you heard Humphrey Bogart in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, it was probably Dave Barry. You heard him in other cartoons, as well.

That day I met him, Barry was about to play Vegas. I was heading there a few weeks later so I got an invite to go see him and to hang out with him between shows. Very nice, funny man. I wrote about him here when he passed away.

Here's a video from one of his appearances at the New York Alumni Association. This is the kind of thing he did on stages for around forty years. I always thought he deserved more respect from historians of comedy…

William Saletan discusses an analogy: That denying people of the same sex the right to marry is bigotry on the same level as denying people of different races the right to marry once was. Some time ago here, I think I said that though I was firmly against both forms of discrimination, I didn't think the two situations were precisely the same. Later though, I got to thinking what the distinction might be…and I couldn't come up with much of anything; not if you leave some interpretation of some passages in The Bible out of the discussion. And in a country with separation of church and state, you should.

Saletan actually comes up with a logical one…

From the perspective of a would-be spouse, being denied the right to same-sex marriage can be, in some ways, worse [than being denied the right to marry someone of another race]. If you're attracted to someone of another race, and the law won't let you marry anyone of that race, you can find someone of your own race to marry. You shouldn't have to do that, but you can. But if you're exclusively attracted to people of your own sex, and the law forbids you to marry such a person, then everything conservatives praise about marriage — the sharing, the happiness, the fulfillment, the solemnity, the respect — is denied to you.

He's right…but the public debate about this has never been moved much by logic. It's an emotional issue and most folks' logical arguments flow from their emotional response to the question. Actually, to me, a lot of it lately sounds like the folks still opposing Gay Marriage are down to fighting it because they just plain don't want to lose a battle, no matter what it's about. They'd better get used to it.

Today (Wednesday), the guest on Stu's Show is my pal and the best friend animation ever had, Jerry Beck.  You think I know a lot about cartoons?  I'm Beaky Buzzard compared to Jerry.  He'll be taking about new cartoons and old cartoons and a lot about cartoons you'll be able to buy soon on DVD and Blu-ray…and also about ones you won't.  His visits with your host Stu Shostak are always fun and informative, so make sure you listen to this one.

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 to three or beyond.

Shortly after a show ends, it's available for downloading from the Archives on that site. Downloads are a paltry 99 cents each and you can get four for the price of three.

So…when last we left my grandmother, she was 89 and living in her home in Hartford, Connecticut. She had lived there for 53 years and if you think that's a long time, consider this. Her daughter (i.e., my mother) lived in the home where I was raised for 59 years. Must be hereditary.

Grandma had lived alone in that house since her third husband passed away in 1984 but five years later, she was no longer able to take care of herself. Her doctor recommended a lovely assisted living facility in Manchester, about six miles away. She toured it, liked it and asked if we could arrange for her to move in there for, presumably, the rest of her life. Easier asked than answered: When I tried to sign her up, they said there were no openings and they had a waitlist that would probably be several years. My grandmother couldn't wait for several years.

I phoned the superior of the person who told me this and he said the same thing: No Vacancies, sorry. Then I phoned the superior of the superior and he told me the same thing: No Vacancies, sorry. Since there was no one superior to the superior of the superior, I put the following to him…

"Okay, I understand you have no openings for my grandmother. Now, how do I get her in there?"

The gentleman on the phone was very nice but he said, "I'm sorry but I can't help you."

I said, "All right. Who can? I'm betting somewhere in the great state of Connecticut, there's someone who knows how to get my grandmother into your facility. I can spend money if I have to." I wasn't sure what I was asking for but some lead is better than no lead.

The superior's superior thought for a moment, then said, "There's an attorney a few blocks from here…he handles the business affairs of a lot of people who live here. He's a very nice man, very concerned with the needs of the aged. If anyone would know, he would." And he gave me that man's number.

I called him up, explained the situation and hired him. How he managed it is a long, complicated story that involved loopholes and obscure laws of the great state of Connecticut, and me acquiring some of my grandmother's assets so as to put her income level into a special classification.

If I fully understood it, I'd explain it but all you need to know is that a few days later, he called me and said, "Your grandmother is now at the top of the waitlist…and by the way, the other people on it are not being inconvenienced much if at all by this. Almost all of them are on waitlists for other assisted living facilities. I spoke to the representatives of the next three on the list and they all expect to go into other facilities shortly…and the next few after the first three aren't expecting to move into any assisted living facility for a year or two."

"Great," I said. "Now, the question is how long will it take before there's a vacancy at the one where my grandmother wants to go?"

He said, "Well, it may not be long. They have four patients there who are over 100 years old."

The very next day, he called me back and said, "Well, they now have three patients there who are over 100 years old." So a vacancy had opened up for my grandmother…and I don't think he made it happen. I was only paying the lawyer $200 an hour. That's not enough for him to go have a 102-year-old human being whacked. In California, you need at least a $500-per-hour attorney…or a government death panel.

It was a nice bit of timing. So was the fact that I had a trip to New York already scheduled for two weeks later. I phoned Brenda the Travel Agent — this was back when some of us booked flights through travel agents instead of doing it ourselves on the Internet — and we did some rearrangement. The day I left New York, I had already planned to fly to Hartford for one day to see Grandma. Instead, we made it two days and we arranged to fly my mother to Hartford to meet me there. Together, we helped get Grandmother moved-in and situated in her new home.

It was really a beautiful place with caring, efficient help. She had a nice room — small but quite sufficient. There were activity rooms with games and television. There was a gymnasium where a 75-year-old version of Richard Simmons led elderly folks in limited exercises.

And then there was the porch. Ah, that porch.

One whole side of the building was a long, long porch that faced a grassy, undeveloped area…and then on the other side of that grassy area was a small forest. There was room on the porch for several dozen people to sit and look out at the greenery and watch as squirrels made their way from the trees to just close enough to the home to be fed. It was a very beautiful, tranquil place to sit.

The food at the facility was good, too. I'd rented a car to get us around and I was going to take my mother and grandmother to dinner somewhere nice. Then the admissions officer told us, "You're welcome to have supper with us here if you like," and my mother suggested we do that and sample what Grandma would be eating. I had a baked chicken breast, whipped potatoes, steamed carrots and for dessert, a cupcake. I have had worse meals in restaurants to which I willingly returned.

Grandma was very happy with her new home and with the fact that I — with the help of that lawyer — would be handling all her finances and taxes and such, including the sale of her home as well as the belongings she'd decided to abandon. Still, when it came time for us to leave, she began crying. "I'm afraid I'll never see you again," she said to both of us. We assured her that was not so; that we'd come and see her.

My grandmother lived a little less than eight more years there. In truth, she did not see her daughter in person again, though they spoke many times on the phone. I was going back to New York often on business and I managed three side trips to Manchester while she was alive. I therefore watched as my grandmother slowly but certainly lost her ability to recall or remember anything.

She was never in pain, they told me. Her doctor described her as "happily confused." When her friends there died, she either forgot about them quickly or never realized they'd passed. When her condition deteriorated, she never knew it.

On my first visit, she knew who I was and was so happy to see me. We sat out on that porch and watched the squirrels and it all seemed so restful and serene. Then I took her to dinner at a wonderful seafood restaurant I'd heard about. When I had to go, she hugged me and cried and said, "I'm afraid I'll never see you again." I assured her she would.

Two years later, she sort of knew who I was. Again, we sat on the porch for an hour or two but I didn't take her out this time. Instead, I talked with her nurses about things she needed there. A family friend had been visiting her once a week and making sure she had new clothes when needed, batteries for her radio, etc. I made a shopping list while I was there, drove over to a shopping center and got her new outfits and a new pillow and a lot of grandmother toys.

She was very happy with the gifts but at one point, she suddenly asked me to remind her who I was. That's when I knew things were getting bad in that department. Also, when I left, she did not hug me and cry and worry that she would never see me again.

The last time I visited her, she was 96. We sat on that great, wonderful porch and she could understand who I was and hold onto that information for about twenty seconds at a time. I'd say, slowly and distinctly, "I'm your grandson, Mark. I'm Dorothy's son. You are my grandmother. I'm your grandson, Mark."

It would register but not for long. She'd say "Mark" and I'd see her eyes fill and I'd hug her…

…and by the time I stopped hugging her, she'd say, "You're a nice young man. I wish I knew who you were." That one was a very short visit. And somehow, sitting out on that porch and watching the squirrels wasn't quite as tranquil.

A few months later at the age of 97, she passed in her sleep. No pain. No awareness she was dying. Not a bad way to go.

I called Brenda the Travel Agent and said, "My mother and I need to go to Hartford for her mother's funeral on Wednesday." I expected it to be beastly expensive since we were flying on such short notice but Brenda told me about Bereavement Fares.

Some airlines offer these and some do not. With those that do, you call up and say you need to go somewhere on short notice for a funeral and they give you something like 50% off on the full-price fare and maybe waive a lot of fees. Given that on the 'net, you can sometimes find a flight for less than 50% off the full fare, that may or may not be what you want. Also, you should know that some airlines, before they'll give you one of these discount fares, make you leap through a few hoops to verify that you really are flying back to attend a funeral of a loved one. I think we had to give them the name of the funeral home and they called it to verify.

Two days later, my mother and I got on a Continental Airlines flight to Cleveland where we would change planes and then head to Hartford. This was back in the days of in-flight meals and neither my mother nor I had eaten anything before we got on the first plane. The food was inedible so we were both hungry when we deplaned in Cleveland. We had a three-hour layover there so I went up to a nice lady at our departure gate and asked, "What's the best restaurant in the airport?"

She said, "Across from Gate D-10, there's a Burger King."

I said, "No, we've got a couple hours here. What's the best restaurant in the airport?"

She said, "Across from Gate D-10, there's a Burger King."

I said, "That's the best restaurant in the airport?"

She said, "That's the best restaurant in the city."

Every time I tell this story, I hear from folks who live in Cleveland telling me of superb places to dine. Hey, I'm just telling you what the lady at the Continental Airlines gate said. I hiked down to Gate D-10 and got myself a terrible burger. My mother decided to wait until we reached Hartford…then once we were on the second plane, regretted that decision. "When we get there," she said, "I'll need something to eat in a hurry."

When we got there, all the restaurants in the airport were closed. We got our luggage and I picked up the rental car, then I picked up my mother and our luggage, then we went to the hotel Brenda had picked out. It was a Holiday Inn near the airport and as we checked in at 10:05 PM, I said to the lady at the desk, "Please don't tell me that Room Service closed at ten."

She said, "It didn't. But only because we don't have Room Service."

I asked her where we could get something to eat and she mentioned a few Denny's-type places a mile or so away. By now, it was snowing and my mother was exhausted and not thrilled with the idea of getting back in the car and driving somewhere else. I asked the desk clerk lady if she knew of any place that delivered, even if it was just pizza. There was a sports bar just off the hotel lobby and she motioned to it and said, "I think they make pizzas in there."

I asked my mother, "Could you be happy with pizza from in there?"

She said, "By now, I'd be happy with a Burger King down by Gate D-10. Just, please, get me to my room and get me something to eat." So I got her to her room, tossed my suitcase in mine and headed for the sports bar in search of pizza.

Since I don't drink and don't avidly follow sports, a sports bar is an alien world for me. This one was festooned with photos, pennants, bobbleheads and autographed balls from every local team involved in any sport more competitive than a potato race. A number of older men were sitting around watching wall-mounted television sets tuned to different events, all sans audio. The working premise seemed to be to feign interest in The Game and hit on the young ladies who worked there.

Working the bar and waiting tables were three women who looked barely old enough to drink. Each was wearing a striped referee shirt complete with whistle, hot pants, high knee socks, athletic shoes and a baseball cap. Each greeted me cheerily and said, "Welcome back!" and then the one behind the bar asked me, "What'll you have?"

I replied, "The usual!"

Trying to place this face of mine that had never been there before, she said, "Uh, remind me. What's your pleasure?"

I was going to say Laurel and Hardy movies but instead, I told her "I'd like a pizza."

She said, "Pizza? We don't have pizzas here."

I said, "The lady at the hotel desk said you made pizzas here."

She said, "I don't think we make pizzas here." Then she turned to another girl and said, "Heidi, we don't make pizzas here, do we?" Heidi didn't think so. Then they asked Ellen and Ellen said, "There's a thing that says Pizza Hut on it in the back room."

A quick discussion ensued and it was decided that, yes, this sports bar did serve pizzas but only on the day shift. Why? Because no one had asked about them for months in the evening and the three ladies on duty just then had all been here less than ten weeks. "I guess we do make pizzas here," the first lady said. "But none of us knows how to do that."

Then Heidi said, "I'll bet Alice would know how to make one. She worked on the day shift for a long time." Alice was on her break and a few minutes later when she returned, she said, "Sure, I can make you a pizza. What would you like on it?"

She dug up a menu and as I studied it and tried to decide, she made a quick inventory of the back room, came back and said, "We're out of everything except pepperoni. But the good news is we have dough and cheese and sauce." I said, "I'll take one that's half dough and cheese and sauce, and half dough and cheese and sauce and pepperoni." She said it would take about twenty minutes and went back to perform the delicate operation. The first girl drew a long, tall beer from their tap, placed it in front of me and said, "Here…while you wait, this is on the house."

I said, "Thanks but I don't drink beer." If you want to see the look she gave me, just walk around and tell people you don't breathe oxygen.

I settled for a 7-Up and she said, "Well, have a seat. The game's on. Chargers versus Broncos." (I may be misremembering the names of the teams.)

I said, "Thanks but I don't follow football." Same reaction.

Having convinced this woman I was gay, I went over to a pay phone in the corner and called my answering machine back home. There was a call from my agent. There was a call from my business manager. There was a call from an editor. There was a call from the lady who was housesitting my home. And then there was this call from my friend Harvey…

"Hi, Evanier. I was in your neighborhood and thought I'd take a chance and see if you were home. But of course, you're not. You're probably out with some beautiful woman and a bunch of your show biz friends, going to a screening or a party or something. You lead such a thrilling, glamorous life."

I thought, in reply: "Yeah, Harvey. A glamorous life. Why, do you know the thrilling, glamorous thing I'm doing right now? I'm sitting in a damned sports bar in a Holiday Inn by the airport in Hartford, Connecticut watching it snow outside while a Barbie doll dressed as a basketball referee makes me a Pizza Hut pizza, and then tomorrow, I'm going to an old folks' home to clean out my grandmother's belongings. Life doesn't get much more exciting than that!"

Just then, Alice knocked on the booth to get my attention. She said, "I'm sorry. We don't have enough pepperoni to cover the half of the pizza you wanted pepperoni on. I was thinking, maybe I could chop up some of the olives we put in martinis and put them on the pizza. Would you like that?"

I turned back to the phone and, even though I wasn't actually talking to him, I said, "Hold on, Harvey. I was wrong. Life just got even more exciting!"

To be, as they say, continued…

Hey, how about a medley of tunes from James Bond movies? (Which reminds me: Here it is the middle of March and I don't think I've purchased a new video version of Goldfinger all year…)

• Why would the CIA spy on Congress? Why wouldn't they just kidnap our representatives and waterboard them? Much easier.

Dealing with deadlines today. I tell people I feel like I'm on vacation any time what I'm writing doesn't have to be in tomorrow. Today, I'm writing stuff that has to be in today. So you won't see a lot of me on this blog 'til some things are done and in and gone.

It's interesting how my profession has changed due to the Internet. I now deliver just about everything I do via e-mail. Not all that long ago, I had to print scripts out on paper and physically transport them, either by taking them in or mailing them. Mailing cost me a few days. If they needed it in New York on Monday, I had to get it done by Friday or, before Federal Express, Wednesday or so. Now, if they need it in New York on Monday, I can sometimes finish it on Monday.

I had an argument once with a New York-based editor over that. I said I'd have the script in on Monday…and I did. I sent it via e-mail at 4:00 PM my time, which was 7 PM where he was. He'd left the office and gone home by then — and since he didn't check his mail from home, he didn't see it until the following morning. To him, I was a day late but I said, "Hey, I said I'd send it in on Monday. I sent it in on Monday." He gave me a little condescending lecture on the importance of promptness in our industry and then, as is way too usual, his firm took about three months to pay me.

General rule of thumb for writers: The more insistent they are about you getting your work in on time, the less they care about paying you promptly. Nowadays, instant delivery of scripts is expected via e-mail. I haven't heard of any publisher setting up a process via which the payment can be deposited in your checking account just as instantly.

I have worked for one animation studio that does that and it seems to work quite well. I'd deliver something and the payment was in my bank account within the hour. They told me it was easy to set up and very simple on their end from a bookkeeping standpoint.

The only downside is that they have to turn loose of the money sooner…but with interest rates as low as they are these days, they're not losing much to do that, and they say it causes writers to deliver more efficiently. If you work in publishing and you're having a problem with tardy delivery of work, you might want to look into this.

Back to the deadlines…

Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner say a few things about their friend and employer, Sid Caesar…

Congrats to our pal Jim Brochu. You remember Jim…the guy whose one-man-show as Zero Mostel I raved and raved about. Well, he's back now with a new show that channels a whole bunch of other great men of the theater and the New York Times thinks it's pretty darn good. Character Man plays in Manhattan through the end of this month and then I'll bet Jim will be doing it elsewhere. I'll let you know where those elsewheres are…and if one of them is anywhere near me, if this show is as good as I think it is.

I'm hearing from a lot of Stooge fans, a few of whom I think want to poke me in the eyes and run a saw across my head.

One fellow was irate at my suggestion that when Joe Besser left the act, Joe DeRita was the only choice. This guy thought Mousie Garner would have made a great Third Stooge. Well, maybe. It has been alleged that Moe didn't think so. But I think that at that point in their dwindling career, Moe and other advisors saw the wisdom — in terms of marketablity — of bringing in someone who could remind people of Curly. Whatever popularity the Stooges had then as an act flowed from the reruns of the old Curly shorts on TV and there was no question he was the most beloved member of the team. They didn't go to Joe DeRita and say, "How'd you like to join the act?" It was more like, "How'd you like to shave your head and change your name so we look kind of like Moe, Larry and Curly again?" Mousie, whatever his skills, couldn't help them on that count.

Another reader was upset that I spoke ill of Snow White and the Three Stooges and suggests I'm wrong to view it as a Stooges movie. Since Snow White gets top billing, it should be seen as a Snow White movie…and a darned good one, he thinks. Well, okay. I don't think Ms. White's name came first because she was the real star. I think it came first because they were aping the form of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" but by any name, I don't think it's a very good movie and I don't think the Stooges are very good in their scenes.

Someone who didn't sign their name wrote to correct me on two points. One, he's right about. I said Curly was the third guy when the Stooges broke into films but of course, Shemp was the guy in their first film appearance, Soup to Nuts. This anonymous correspondent also noted that at one point (two, actually) Moe was prepared to add Emil Sitka to the act. Yes…but as a replacement for Larry, not Curly or Joe.

And then Douglass Abramson wrote to say and ask…

I agree with you, I don't know why anybody would attack DeRita or Besser. Any defects in the films they did as Stooges were due to the short production schedules and shoestring budgets. Your post did get me wondering something about Shemp. I couldn't find an answer online, so I thought I'd see if you knew. Why did Shemp go back to the act after Curly's stroke? Was it family devotion or was there a career element to the decision? He was working regularly as a character actor and was even getting parts in A, or at least B+ pictures. Working a couple of days on Another Thin Man had to be an easier buck than a Three Stooges short.

I suspect being shot out of a cannon in the circus was an easier buck then than being one of the Three Stooges. But I think I answered your question back in this message with information I learned from an unimpeachable source. I mean, if you can't believe a woman who slept with W.C. Fields, who can you believe?

By the way, in case I didn't make it clear in my piece, I think Shemp Howard and Joe Besser have both been underrated. I think both added some sparkle and funny performances to films that didn't have much to offer in terms of fresh jokes, production values and, probably, time to do a second or third take. I am told the Stooge Fanciers have become much more tolerant of non-Curly films these days but I remember a time when it was kind of taken for granted that a Three Stooges Film Festival would not sully the screen with a movie lacking Jerome "Curly" Howard. If you showed one with Shemp, attendees would start barking like a dog, spinning around on the floor on one ear and going "Woo woo woo!"

I'm not knocking them. I've been known to do precisely that when served cole slaw. But let's have a little love for Shemp, Joe and Curly Joe. They had the toughest job in show business if you don't count performing death-defying stunts like Dar Robinson, Yakima Canutt, Vic Armstrong or anyone who ever attempted to direct Shelley Winters.

Here is Les Misérables as it gets performed on Sesame Street. I'm not sure but I don't think these actors are singing live…

This morning on Facebook, I posted a photo of the Three Stooges in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World: Larry Fine, Moe Howard and "Curly" Joe DeRita. In response, I received a couple of really nasty e-mails from people who couldn't resist telling me how much they loathed Joe DeRita. And what was the horrible thing Mr. DeRita did to warrant such hatred? Why, he'd committed the cardinal sin — one of which we are all guilty to some extent — of not being Curly Howard.

Some history. Leaving aside a few short-lived configurations of the group when they supported Ted Healy, Moe and Larry were always two-thirds of the Stooges. It was the third guy who kept changing. First, in their pre-movie days, it was Shemp. Then Shemp left and he was replaced by Curly. (As everyone knows, Moe, Shemp and Curly were all brothers.) Curly was the guy when they started making shorts for Columbia and Curly was the guy when their films were made on decent budgets and weren't just quickly-shot and/or retreads of what had gone before.

Then Curly had a stroke so Shemp came back to the act and took his brother's place. Then Shemp died and his spot was taken by Joe Besser, and he was the third Stooge until they came to the end of their contract to make pictures for Columbia.

After that, the only prospect for the Stooges was to tour, and that's when Besser pulled out. He said it was because his wife was ill and he had to stay home in Hollywood to take care of her. While Mrs. Besser may have been ill at the time, it's pretty obvious to me that Besser was using that an excuse. He could and did get plenty of work in town as a character actor but at the moment, no one was rushing to hire the Stooges. If you'd been Joe Besser's agent, you would probably have told him it was a good time to jump ship and go it alone. Besides, he was never really a full-time member of the act. Even while making the films with Larry and Moe, he still went out and did non-Stooge roles in movies and on TV programs.

If Moe and Larry were going to make any further money as the Three Stooges, they needed a third stooge…and they got DeRita. I am now going to commit what some will deem as heresy by suggesting he was the best possible choice and that he was probably no less funny than Curly or Shemp would have been in those films, given the writing, production values and the ages of everyone at the time. It also didn't help that given those ages, and their growing following among children, they toned down the physical comedy and what some called "violence."

No, 1960 Curly Joe was not as funny as 1940 Curly…and guess what! 1960 Larry was not as funny as 1940 Larry, and 1960 Moe was not as funny as 1940 Moe, and the scripts and budgets of 1960 did not allow for Stooges films as funny as the ones from 1940, either. Joe DeRita was not the reason Snow White and the Three Stooges was a snooze and a half.

I met Joe DeRita once. He was at a one-day comic convention around 1973, signing autographs. I think the idea was that he'd charge $5 or $10 for a signature, which seemed like a lot of money at the time. He signed a few at that price and then I think he felt bad about it because a lot of little kids were coming by and he didn't want to say no to them or demand money. So suddenly, the autographs were free…and I'm not sure about this next part but I think he sent someone out to look for the people he'd charged and refund what they'd paid.

I remember a couple things about him. One was how he brightened up when I told him I'd visited Larry out at the Motion Picture Country Hospital. He also brightened up when I asked him some questions about his non-Stooge career, particularly his days in burlesque. He obligingly answered all the fans' questions about whether they ever got hurt in their films, and he was polite to those who didn't seem to understand that he wasn't Curly. But when I asked him about his solo shorts at Columbia — he made quite a few before he hooked up with Moe and Larry — he invited me to sit and actually have a conversation. He loved being part of the Stooges but it was, after all, just one thing he'd done in a very long show biz career.

Another thing I remember is what terrible shape he was in. He had not-that-long a walk from the car to his table and he was exhausted and wheezing. He was also much more overweight than I'd ever seen him on screen. The Stooges had not made a film in quite some time and with Larry recovering from a stroke and Joe looking the way he did, it was pretty obvious they never would again. Mr. DeRita didn't seem to think so but that's understandable. When you spend your whole lifetime as a performer, it's hard to ever admit it's over.

The chat was pleasant and largely unmemorable except that I got bragging rights to say I'd met another Stooge. He told me a few great stories about working in burlesque revues in Las Vegas in the late fifties and he said that when he signed on for the Stooges, Moe told him, "Remember…most of our fans are kids so you can't do burlesque shows anymore." Joe said he wouldn't miss it and he thought Moe had missed a bit of irony there. An awful lot of what the Stooges did was burlesque, including some hallowed burley-q routines. They just didn't have the sexy stuff and the scantily-clad women.

I didn't talk with him long because he had a lot of people — young kids and also folks my age and older — who wanted autographs and the above-mentioned bragging rights. A few wanted to tell him their favorite Stooge film or routine…which was usually something with Curly, something that had nothing to do with him. So I left and since then, I've always had a little warm spot for the guy.

Yeah, he wasn't part of the great Stooges era but that was ancient history by the time he hopped aboard. The Stooges made funny shorts in the thirties and early forties…and then as two-reel comedies became increasingly less lucrative, they hung in there by making them cheaper and faster and faster and cheaper. The quality of their films was a pretty steady descent over the last 10-12 years, enlivened only by brief bursts of good comic acting from Shemp and then from Joe Besser. Like the last few years of Laurel and Hardy or the Marx Brothers, the best thing you can say about their last films is that there are moments that remind you of their best work.

None of that was Joe DeRita's fault. Matter of fact, I think he was the best thing in some of those films…which admittedly, was not hard to be. I just think Stooges fans have given him a lot of undeserved raps. One of the Curly Joe haters who wrote me said, "He ruined the wonderment of the Stooges." This person has obviously never seen the last few years of Shemp shorts and all the Joe Bessers. And I'll bet you he can't name a better performer who would have enlisted in that act when DeRita did and enabled the franchise to keep going.

Our pal Shelly Goldstein will be on the radio tonight (Sunday evening) for an hour, playing and talking about ten classics of rock music. It's 100.3 FM, Southern California's classic rock station at 7 PM Los Angeles time. You can listen on a radio if you're in L.A. and you actually own a radio…but everyone can listen online here. I'm hoping somewhere between The Stones and The Beatles, she can squeeze in The Four Lads.

This morning on ABC's This Week, Ted Cruz said that Republicans still have a chance of repealing "every single word" of Obamacare in 2015. No, they don't. But he does think saying that will get him votes and support and other benefits. There are people out there who, first of all, buy into the lie that — as he claimed — the Affordable Care Act has cost "millions of jobs." And secondly, there are folks out there who admire a person who fights and fights and fights and fights and won't admit defeat.

I don't know about your life but in mine, I know people who've taken a medium-sized loss and turned it into a devastating one by chanting this storybook mantra about how a man who won't be defeated can't be defeated. Hey, watch any sporting event where two teams compete. One always loses. I had an acquaintance — now deceased and in large part because of this — who lost a lawsuit, lost all appeals…and then proceeded to lose his life's savings and health, going from lawyer to lawyer, trying to find one who could reverse the loss. By the end, I don't think he even thought he had a winnable case. He just thought that Not Giving Up would somehow prevail.

Cruz isn't dumb enough to think Barack Obama, who'll still be in the White House in 2015, will sign legislation that wipes out Obamacare. Cruz is also not dumb enough to think Republicans can rack up a veto-proof majority in the Senate. There aren't enough seats in play for that to happen. And Obamacare is becoming more popular, not less.

And on top of all that, so many people are signing up for it that you can't just repeal it without dumping millions out of their health plans. To get rid of it now, you have to offer a workable alternative…which Republicans don't have.

I'm not worried about Obamacare being repealed. I do fear for a country that thinks Ted Cruz is a leader.