Monthly Archives: December 2004

Yes, as it turns out, there is! [Thank you, Frank Buxton.]

Ah, you know what would make this holiday season perfect? I'd love to see the movie, It's a Wonderful Life, re-enacted in thirty seconds by cartoon rabbits. But of course, there's nowhere you can see that.

If you ever order from Amazon-dot-com or think you might ever order from Amazon-dot-com, you will want to read this.

So here's what the controversy over Donald Rumsfeld's performance comes down to: Liberal columnists think he's incompetent and we should blame the president for picking and retaining this guy. Conservative columnists think he's incompetent but we shouldn't blame the president for picking and retaining this guy. [Washington Post, registration probably a must]

Over at his weblog, Tom Tomorrow writes about a problem he had that I've also had and that many freelance writers and artists have endured. In his experience, he wrote something for Slate and then, months later, they sent him all sorts of forms he'd have to sign in order to get paid for the work. He found some of these forms objectionable but that almost isn't the point. Even non-objectionable terms should be disclosed and mutually agreed-upon before the work is done. Once you do the work, you're pretty much stuck. You can't undo the work, can't take back the time and effort you put into it.

Sometimes, you can argue them into dropping the requirement that you sign away your First Born to get the $300 that they owe you, but sometimes you can't. At least three times that I can think of in my career, the following situation presented itself: I was hired by someone with whom I had a good, ongoing relationship. In other words, a friend. After the work was done, that person came to me and said, often apologetically, "The front office says you have to sign this to get paid. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before but I just found out they have this procedure on work of this sort." So if I object and don't sign, I don't get paid and I get my friend in trouble. I once had one call me and say, in effect, "Please…I was new here, I didn't know about the procedure. They're going to fire me if you don't sign."

Another variation: You do the job January 1. By February 1, you haven't been paid so you inquire. They send you a new contract form which went into usage on January 15 and they say, "Here's what you need to sign before the accounting department can issue you a check." You object to the content of that form and you point out that they're changing the terms of the work after you've done the work. They say, "Well, this is how it is. The parent company, which is in Botswana and where no one speaks English so you can't talk to them, has instituted this new policy. The accountants are strictly forbidden to issue a check unless they have that form on file." This has also happened to me at least three times, probably more.

Writers, artists and other kinds of freelancers get burned by this, one way or the other, no matter what they do. There have been times when I've walked away from money that was owed me. There have been other times when I've signed contracts that I'd never have signed, had I seen them before I did the job. Sometimes, I've felt baited-and-switched. Other times, I've felt it was primarily my own fault for not saying to the person doing the hiring, "Okay, but before I do the work, please send me a copy of all documents that pertain to this assignment." This is not always easy to say, especially when they're calling you with a great job or one that they need in a hurry. But it should be said, especially in the age of the Internet and fax machines when they can have that information to you in a matter of minutes. We all need to say it often enough that it becomes Standard Operational Procedure.

I still haven't gotten around to reading (or even getting) the new Gerard Jones book on the history of the folks who shaped the comic book industry, Men of Tomorrow. But my pal Pat O'Neill has done both and written his review.

Dave Eggers writes a nice piece in The New Yorker on Monty P. and their upcoming Broadway excursion. Also, here, Eggers is interviewed and elaborates. Check both of these out now as New Yorker links have a way of not being active for long. [Thanks, "larrybatman," for pointing it out.]

This morning, George W. Bush presented the Presidential Medal of Freedom to retired General Tommy Franks, who oversaw combat in Afghanistan and the initial invasion of Iraq, former CIA Director George Tenet and former Iraq administrator L. Paul Bremer. Franks, I can almost see. Things did go well, at least for a time in Afghanistan…but he was a leading advocate of the position, which I don't think anyone now thinks was wise, that we didn't need more boots on the ground in Iraq. Still, I can't even give half-credit to Tenet or Bremer, and I think even a lot of Bush supporters would love to blame them for all the screw-ups and failures. The trouble is that this administration's policy is to never admit there even have been screw-ups or failures.

This is more of that "I meant to do that" mentality. We don't admit when things go wrong. We insist they went so right, the people responsible are deserving of medals. It keeps the denial going…and in this case, it may prevent either Tenet or Bremer from writing a book that the Bush administration won't like.

Nice article on Eric Idle and his new Monty Python musical in the Chicago-Tribune. [Registration required but free] Amusingly, Slate today makes reference to "Mike Nichols' inspired musical about Monty Python." Nichols is directing but isn't it pretty obvious that the possessive here is misdirected and that the driving force in this project is Mr. Idle? Also, of course, the adaptation of their Holy Grail movie is not "about Monty Python." [Thanks to Steve Pyskoty-Olle for the Idle gesture.]

I never followed the Scott Peterson case. I don't know how obvious it is that he killed his pregnant spouse (assuming he did) and I have no more emotional investment in the matter than I have for any homicide involving people I never heard of before. I gather that this one got as much attention as it did because the media was hungry for another O.J. fest and the Robert Blake trial was not moving fast enough. Also, some anti-abortion forces wanted to sell the idea that Peterson had killed two human beings, one of whom just hadn't been born yet, so they apparently helped keep the matter front and center.

Two things did bother me, one being the whole concept of "the penalty phase." For seven days, the jury heard testimony about what kind of man Scott Peterson is, with the prosection defining him as "the worst kind of monster" and the defense arguing that he was deserving of sympathy and that killing him would just perpetuate the "senseless killing." I don't get the concept here, I'm afraid. If the jury decides beyond a reasonable doubt that the guy did it, then they've pretty much decided what kind of man he is. He's a First Degree Murderer. He may be a cute First Degree Murderer or a pathetic First Degree Murderer or a First Degree Murderer who had a rough childhood…but the guy is still a First Degree Murderer and should receive whatever the penalty is for First Degree Murder. We can argue about whether it should be death — I'm real torn on that issue — but that's a decision that should be made by society as a whole, not by twelve people who couldn't get out of jury duty.

Second thing that bothers me: People cheering the sentence. I get the sense that people cheered the verdict as well, and it wasn't because they'd carefully studied the case and decided justice demanded Scott Peterson's destruction. They just kind of decided the guy was a smug slime who must've done it, the same way a lot of them were sure about Gary Condit. They may be right this time but I still don't see conviction and sentencing as a cause for jubilation. I think it's just sad that a human being does such a thing and then society has to turn around and end another life, whether via the Death Penalty or by tossing the person in San Quentin forever, which is almost the same thing. Perhaps if I had an emotional stake in a homicide trial — say, if a loved one had been the victim — I'd feel I'd "won" something with the verdict because I could now put the whole matter behind me and get on with my life. But most people didn't know the Petersons, didn't care a bit about them until the matter hit Basic Cable, and followed the case by choice. They could have put the matter behind them at any time just by turning off Larry King Live. So what's to celebrate?

Col. David H. Hackworth (USA Ret.) writes about those sad letters that the Secretary of Defense (and sometimes, the President) have to send to families telling them that a loved one has died in the line of service. In the past, it has been customary for these letters to be hand-signed but the always-considerate Donald Rumsfeld has passed the job off to an automatic signing machine.

Let me be the last comics/animation-related weblog to link to these clever drawings by Michael Paulus of the skeletons of famous cartoon characters. (This is one of those links I didn't post because everyone else has…but since everyone keeps sending it to me, I figured I might as well. Nice stuff.)

I don't know why I found this article interesting but I did so maybe you will. The Fulton Fish Market in New York is moving to new, more modern digs. Read all about it. [New York Times, but I don't think registration will be required for this one.]

Bob Clampett is the gent at left in the above photo. Bob was one of the all-time great directors of animated cartoons, most notably for Warner Brothers during that studio's "golden age." He later went on to produce a couple of the first great TV programs for kids, starting with a witty puppet show called Time for Beany. Years later, he turned Time for Beany into a witty animated series called Beany and Cecil. Bob was a great guy…very generous with his time to the many young animators who flocked around him in the last decade or so of his life. You can read more about him in this article.

Daws Butler is the gent at right in the above photo. Daws was one of the all-time great voice actors in animated cartoons, most notably for Hanna-Barbera during that studio's formative years. He was also heard in (among other venues) Warner Brothers cartoons, Jay Ward cartoons, tons of great TV commercials, Stan Freberg records and on one of the first great TV programs for kids, a witty puppet show called Time for Beany. In fact, he was Beany and approximately 50% of the cast of that series, with Freberg playing almost all the other roles up until the time they both quit. Daws was a great guy…very generous with his time to the many young voice actors who flocked to his classes in the last decade or so of his life. You can read more about him in this article.

Some folks in the animation community will be shocked by the picture of them together. Butler and Freberg left Clampett's employ in 1954 in what was not a friendly parting. Having enormous respect and affection for all three men, I don't want to even think about any unpleasantness there. Suffice it to say that Daws and Bob had little or no contact for the next two decades, and that a lot of folks thought they never even spoke after '54. But they did, at least once.

In 1975, both were guests at the San Diego Comic Convention. It was a four-day con and for the first three days, they managed to avoid one another. It wasn't so much a matter of lingering grudges as that neither was sure what he wanted to say to the other guy. Also, of course, it can be awkward to have a casual, passing-in-the-hall encounter with someone when you have a lot of history dangling over your heads. You don't want to not acknowledge them because they'll take that the wrong way. But you also don't want to just say a fleeting hello when you have so much to say to the other guy, and the opportunity for a calm, unhurried face-to-face had not presented itself.

The last day of the con, I was sitting by the pool with Daws, and I noticed Clampett and his wife Sody stop about ten yards away to talk with some fans. I pointed them out and asked Daws, "When was the last time you two spoke?"

Daws wasn't sure. "Some time in the fifties, I think. I get the feeling we talked once since Stan and I quit him but I'm not positive."

I asked, "Would you like me to keep you apart, bring you together or keep my Jewish nose out of this?" Daws said, "I think it's about time. Would you do the honors?"

I went over to Bob, said howdy and then muttered, "Uh, there's a guy over here who thinks he can do cartoon voices. I was wondering if you'd mind giving him some advice." Bob said "Sure," and then I stepped aside and he saw Butler walking up to him, hand extended. "Hello, stranger," Daws said in the best of all his many voices, which was his own. Clampett did a brief double-take, then laughed. Then he grabbed Daws's hand and I whipped out my camera and took a couple of photos. (Sorry it isn't clearer but my old negatives are somewhere in storage. The above was scanned off a fading print.)

Bob brought Sody over to say hello and they all sat down at a poolside picnic table to catch up on their respective personal lives and mutual friends. There were a lot of sentences that began with, "Hey, whatever happened to —?" and a few that commenced with, "You remember the time —?" After a half-hour or so, I had to go off and moderate a panel so I excused myself. As I left the area, I saw a small group of animation buffs standing there, staring across the pool, amazed to see the two of them together. So was I…but as a big fan of both men, and of everyone putting their differences behind them, I thought it was a pretty lovely thing to see.

I posted this to share that sentiment and the photo with you, but also because I thought it would be a good way to segue into a plug for a new book. My pal Joe Bevilacqua — a former student of Daws and the proprietor of The Official Daws Butler Website — has collaborated with writer Ben Ohmart on the authorized biography, Daws Butler, Characters Actor. You can order it here, and you really ought to. I haven't gotten my copy yet but Joe and Ben are good, thorough writers with a passion for the subject and access to Daws' family and memorabilia. So I can't imagine this book not doing justice to my all-time favorite actor…and a wonderful human being. (Come to think of it, Daws was also a wonderful mouse, a wonderful cat, a wonderful horse, a wonderful hound dog, a wonderful smarter-than-the-average-bear, a wonderful lion…)

Warner Home Video is currently airing TV commercials for the newly-released DVD sets of Top Cat and The Flintstones, and I noticed a nice touch in them. They could have gotten any of a thousand different announcers to do the voiceover but they brought in John Stephenson, who was the voice of many characters on both shows, including Mr. Slate on The Flintstones and Fancy Fancy on Top Cat. John has logged hundreds of hours as an actor in animated cartoons and it's always nice to hear his distinctive sound.