Monthly Archives: February 2005

As mentioned here before, Paramount is finally (finally!) coming out with a DVD release of the 1959 version of Li'l Abner — the one which, unlike this one, actually starred Peter Palmer and Leslie Parrish. Release date for the gen-yoo-wine article is 4/19 and you can pre-order from Amazon by clicking here. I'm told to expect an excellent wide-screen transfer but nothing in the way of extras…but that's okay. It's priced cheap and at least it'll be out. I'm a little surprised not to see Julie Newmar on the cover since you figure she'd stupefy a few males browsing the video racks…but then I never understand the marketing ideas they come up with for these things. Maybe they just figure heterosexuals won't buy anything with show tunes in it.

While I was off in San Francisco, my main TiVo received the latest software upgrade, which includes the "TiVo to Go" feature. The way this works is: If you have your PC networked to your computer, you can record a show on the TiVo, then transfer it to your computer hard disk and watch it on your computer or — and here's the "to go" part — you can transfer it to a laptop or burn it to a DVD and take it elsewhere to view.

Because TiVo is under constant assault from networks for making it way too easy for folks to record their shows in digital, uploadable format, TiVo to Go has been designed with a couple of silly restrictions. You're assigned a number they call a "Media Access Key" and this designates the PC on which the transferred shows can be watched. Supposedly, this will discourage the swapping of recorded shows over the 'net…but of course, there are dozens of software and hardware methods one can use to do this without employing a TiVo. I can even use one of my other TiVos, which comes with a built-in DVD burner, to record a show onto a DVD, then copy said DVD onto my computer. TiVo to Go also requires you to specify your own, personal password for playbacks and enter it every time you view a program you transferred to your PC. Again, this makes things a little more difficult for the honest user but probably won't prevent anyone who wants to swap shows from accomplishing what they wish to accomplish.

The shows are saved on your computer in a special file format with a ".tivo" extension. These are playable via Windows Media Player if you have the right codec installed. For those who don't know: A "codec" is a file interpreter that enables a player to decode an audio or video file. You probably already have many codecs on your computer. If you don't have the proper one, TiVo has a list of ones you can purchase…but don't do that. Not when I've found that the free Media Player Classic will run the files just fine.

TiVo also says you have to purchase Sonic MyDVD software if you want to burn a show to a DVD, but if you search around the Internet, you'll find folks explaining how to do this with DVD burning software you may already own, such as Nero. You may also be able to find instructions on how to convert a ".tivo" file to a plain, old-fashioned MPEG file that you can edit like any desktop video. It's a bit complicated for the novice but I'm betting there will be a simple conversion utility available before long.

So what do I think of this new TiVo feature, so far? I think I am not sure why I will use it. Still, if I do find a purpose, it at least seems to work okay on my little set-up here. I have lots of stuff on my harddisk I don't use…so what's one more?

People keep writing to ask what I think of Men of Tomorrow, a new book by Gerard Jones, which focuses on the backstory of the gents who founded and built the comic book industry, with special emphasis on Harry Donenfeld (who founded and owned DC Comics), on Jack Liebowitz (who ran that company when Harry was drunk) and on Jerry Siegel and Bob Kane (who made that company into something when they co-created its star characters). Until the other day, my answer to that question was that I hadn't gotten my mitts on a copy of Gerry's book yet but expected to, shortly. Mentioning that on this site the other day prompted Jim Henley (thanks, Jim) to have a friend come up to me at WonderCon and present me with one, and I read it in my room that very night.

So now, my answer is that it's a terrific book, easily one of the most important things ever written about the history of the American comic book. I just left a message on Gerry's voicemail asking him to call me so I could tell him that directly, and now I'd like to tell you.

For some time now, I've been telling people that any understanding of comic book history has to flow from an understanding of the Depression-era generation, particularly of the culture and world in which young men in New York then resided. Most were Jewish, a few were Italian, and some managed to be one but bond well with the other. Most of the writers and artists of comics' first years shared a certain common background, finding themselves at an early age expected to bring home a paycheck and contribute to the family's subsistence. Spurred on by some creative muse they'd derived from movies, pulps and comic strips, they scurried to make that living in comics before it became necessary for them to give up on that dream and go build a career in some metal-stamping factory. Siegel and Shuster…Bob Kane…Jack Kirby — all of them, young and determined and talented in one way or another — built an industry because they had to. They needed a place to earn a living.

That story has been told before, though rarely as well as Jones does in Men of Tomorrow. What he does that is truly unique in my experience is to explore the lives of the men who financed that industry…the Donenfelds, the Martin Goodmans, the Charlie Gaineses. And then he details the intersection of the financiers and the creators. Guess which generally got the better of that marriage. And yet, the book is not rooted wholly in the rich publisher/screwed creator mentality…even though that is generally what occurred. Gerry sifts through the lives and motives on both sides to discuss how they needed one another and how they used one another. It really is a most remarkable narrative.

I am cited repeatedly in the book as a source of info, and most of what's in there (the bulk of which did not, of course, come from me) corresponds to my knowledge of the facts. There are a few places where I'd quibble, but none of those affect the over-all portrait of the players, nor do they alter any of Gerry's astute observations and deductions. Maybe we can do a convention panel one of these days and discuss a few of these areas. Overall, the worst thing I can say about this book is that there are many places where I wish its author had expanded on a certain player or event and written more. It's such a rich, insufficiently-explored topic that it deserves further exploration…and this book deserves purchase by anyone interested in how the comic book industry came to be.

My favorite of John Raitt's many appearances was not in The Pajama Game or in the many exciting, memorable moments he gave the world from the Broadway stage. Not that there was anything wrong with any of them. He was as fine a singer as there ever was, and he sure set a fine example of what it meant to be a musical comedy star. But my favorite John Raitt moment came around 1964 and it took place on the stage of the auditorium at Ralph Waldo Emerson Junior High School in West Los Angeles. That night, as a fund-raiser for something-or-other, my mother and I attended a show that a couple of the teachers had thrown together, mostly with talent from the faculty.

The cast, performing songs and sketches, consisted of a number of teachers, a few students…and an advertised "Surprise Special Guest Star," who was rumored to be someone very famous. Who would it be? A few years earlier, before any of us had been students at Emerson, a similar benefit had closed with Jerry Lewis. Legend had it he came out for what to have been ten minutes and it turned into more than an hour of songs and banter and falling off the stage. Would we get Jerry again? If not, then who? We all expected someone equally stellar, and a lot of names were bandied about in tingly expectation. None of those names were John Raitt, in large part because few of us had heard of Broadway Legend John Raitt. We had kids in my class who hadn't heard of Broadway. So when he was announced like the biggest star in the world, most of us went "Who?" and felt a little cheated.

But actually, that was just us students. The parents who were present — my mother, for instance — sure knew who John Raitt was, and they were more than a little delighted. And I knew who he was, sort of, and I realized I should have guessed it might be him. There was a girl in some of my classes named Bonnie who occasionally sang (I think she was also in the show) and I knew her father was the guy in the movie, Pajama Game.

So Bonnie Raitt's dad came out to perform. With great wisdom, and some knowledge of the ability of our school band, he brought along his own piano player. And he proceeded to sing for maybe forty minutes…songs from Oklahoma! and Carousel and a couple from Gigi, as I recall. What I really recall is him just winning over that whole audience. He had the adults from the moment he walked out on stage, and he even won over a couple of the teenage girls just because he looked so danged handsome. But by the time he closed, he had everyone in the house cheering, and very happy it wasn't Jerry Lewis.

A few years ago, I attended a concert by Kristin Chenoweth and as a surprise — planned, I am sure — she introduced John Raitt in the audience and had him come down on stage to do a number with her. Backstage afterward, I met him and told him about the time I'd seen him at my junior high school and how impressed I'd been. He had only a vague memory of that performance, and I think he was wondering why I'd brought that up instead of one of the many wonderful things he'd done in more impressive venues. But he did appreciate that he'd done something I thought was very, very good. I hope, wherever he is now, he appreciates that so many people feel that way about so many things he did.

I was going to post every day of our trip but owing to the frequent rain, things got a bit too hectic and I got a bit too weary. I really enjoyed the WonderCon itself, and San Francisco is a great city. But I had enough problems and plans that were cancelled due to weather to make it, on balance, a pretty unpleasant trip. Today, however, there seemed to be blue sky around so Carolyn and I walked down to a great restaurant for Dim Sum (here's its website) and then rode the cable car to Fisherman's Wharf. By the time we got there, it was pouring rain and we finally just gave up and headed for the airport early. It was that kind of excursion.

Sunday at the WonderCon, I did two panels — one with Sergio and me talking about our work together, and one about Comic Books for Kids. The latter featured Arnold Drake, Gail Simone, Bill Morrison, Scott Shaw! and Amanda Conner. Just to cause trouble, I launched into a theory I've developed that comics may have irrevocably lost the younger audience; that there's too little comics can offer that a kid can't get cheaper and easier (and with sound and motion) via Cartoon Network, Boomerang, Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, VHS tapes, DVDs, PlayStation and many more we could all mention. No one on the panel (or even in the audience) really agreed with me…but that's okay since sometimes, I'm not entirely sure I agree with me, either.

No real memorable exchanges on the convention floor. It was nice to see Tony DeZuniga and Ernie Chan — two fine comic artists I haven't seen nearly enough of, these last few years. I also ran into the son of the late Alfredo Alcala, who's currently assembling a book of his father's work, as well as curating an exhibit of same. I had nice conversations with Neal Adams, Dave Stevens, Tom Yeates, Al Gordon, Jim Silke, Bob Burden, Dan DiDio, Trina Robbins, Steve Leialoha, Scott and Judith Shaw, Steve Lieber, Erik Larsen and others I'll probably remember when I'm less tired.

Gotta go unpack. More normal posting resumes later, plus I'll start playing Catch-Up with my e-mailbox.

Meant to post yesterday and even the day before but the WonderCon, here in soggy San Francisco, hasn't allowed me a lot of time. The place is packed, the panels are fun, and there are way too many people to see and stuff to look at.

Friday panels went well. "The Art of the Cover" featured Neal Adams, William Stout, Alex Ross and Adam Hughes, all talking about what it takes to design a right and proper cover for a comic book…or even a record album, CD or DVD. I got Neal to speak a bit about the problems and personalities of working at DC Comics, back when he was doing so many fine covers. He made some interesting points — if anyone there recorded the panel, drop me a note so I can quote some here — about how at the time he came to Batman, he felt it was being drawn by too many people for whom the character was just a guy in a costume and just another assignment. (These are my words, not his.) What made his interpretation of the character different, and the covers he drew special, was that he came to it all with some love of the hero and appreciation of why it would be neat to be that guy. Neal was effusive in his praise of the other panelists, especially Adam Hughes, who he said is doing covers where you want to buy the book and throw away the insides. And that's about all I can remember at this late hour.

Later that day, I got to interview Arnold Drake, one of the great writers of comics' Silver Age and one of the most articulate, candid gents it's ever been my pleasure to know. Arnold co-created The Doom Patrol, Deadman and Stanley and His Monster, to name but a few, and wrote dozens of other comics for DC, including Batman, Challengers of the Unknown, Bob Hope, Jerry Lewis and one of my favorites, Tommy Tomorrow. Actually, they were all among my favorites. Back in the days before comics carried writing credits, I became a Drake fan without knowing who he was or that he'd written so many of the stories I liked.

Saturday morn's Tribute Panel for the great Will Eisner was well-attended, with friends and fans gathering to hear Sergio Aragonés, Jeff Smith, Scott Dunbier and Charles Brownstein remember the man. Then we had to cancel the Golden/Silver Age Panel due to a certain paucity of guests who worked in comics in those eras. Two who'd been announced for the panel were unable to be there, and there was no one else on the premises to take their places. Reminds you how the creators of comics' first and even second generation are becoming an endangered species, and that we need to preserve and protect the few we have left.

Later, I was on a panel of Animation Writers, then I got to play Drew Carey (at a considerably lower salary but with a better haircut) for our "Quick Draw!" game, where Sergio, Jeff Smith, Scott Shaw! and Steve Leialoha battled it out, sketching as fast as humanly possible. If you've never seen us do this at a convention, ask someone who has and they'll tell you you have to see it. The room was absolutely packed with folks, some of whom could actually see the drawings being done.

Not much else to report at the moment. I'm waaaaay behind on e-mail (note the five "a's") so please bear with me. More regular posting will resume here shortly.

For reasons I'll mention in a moment, I really don't want to get the Social Security debate going full-blast on this webpage or in my e-mailbox. But since I linked earlier to a Democratic "calculator," I thought I ought to link to a Republican-type one. Folks sent me links to this one and this one and this one, and I have no idea which is the most accurate. I suspect none is truly accurate since the Bush plan still seems to be so unformed and lacking in specifics and likely to change.

That's one of the things that makes me suspicious of the arguments in its support…and no, it doesn't work the other way around. If someone proposes a new plan — especially one involving numbers — a perfectly valid criticism of it is that it is vague and incomplete. It seems to me the administration strategy at the moment is to get a lot of folks to pledge loyalty to the proposal, then to work out the specifics later. It's like signing a contract to buy a house and the realtor says, "Don't mind those blank pages in the middle. I'll fill them in when I think it's time." To some extent, we bought the War in Iraq on that basis, if only with regard to its predicted costs. Given how far wrong this White House was with those dollar estimates and how they keep revising the prescription drug plan costs upwards by tens of billions, I don't think they've earned a lot of trust with regard to financial projections.

And then the other thing that makes me suspicious of the Bush proposal for private/personal accounts is that the sales presentation for it seems to be predicated on just plain, old-fashioned lying about the health of the current set-up. It doesn't seem to me to require major surgery. Yeah, it may run a deficit at some arguable point in some upcoming decade. Of what current Federal programs could that not be said? Come up with a plan that will fix all of them and you could probably turn Social Security into a chain of soup kitchens for all I'd care…but right now, I'm afraid of seeing Social Security "fixed" by people who've spent years dreaming of its elimination. The only thing that will convince me is a lot of hard math that doesn't make wild projections about the stock market in the future, and provides a workable Plan B if even the reasonable forecasts are wrong. When George W. Bush talks about not wanting to "lay all [his] cards on the table so my opponents can take a shot at them," I figure we're not going to get that for a while, if ever, and what he finally does propose will be amended and compromised and quite unlike the undetailed wish-dream of Conservatives and Wall Street now being bandied about. So that's why I don't want to spend a lot of time debating the proposal. If you want to without me, be my guest.

A newly-formed union of standup comedians in New York has managed to negotiate a better deal for its members. Details here.

What will the George W. Bush private account plan for your Social Security? Here's a calculator that will give you some idea…courtesy of the Democrats. Let me know if you see a Republican response.

…from the wonderful world of overpriced hotel High-Speed Internet Connections. My friend Carolyn and I are in San Francisco, poised and ready for the WonderCon, which commences tomorrow morn. Amazingly, all our luggage is here with us, as well.

In the competitive business of Air Travel, I don't know why some airline hasn't tried to distinguish itself by upgrading the claiming of baggage from the days of Orville and Wilbur. Especially since 9/11 but even before, the effort all seems to go to getting the suitcases searched, checked-in and on the plane. On the other end, you could traipse the Baggage Claim area for days and not find someone who can tell you why everything turned up on the carousel except your Samsonite. I don't know why they don't spring for even one employee who's down there and in voice communication with those mysterious folks who, at some point, are supposed to put your bags on the conveyor.

We were early for the flight and I have to remember that when you're early for your flight, and you're travelling to a locale to which there are a lot of flights, there's a fair-to-middling change that your suitcase will go on the flight before yours. This has happened to my luggage a couple of times, and it happened to one of Carolyn's bags, this afternoon. At 10:00 this A.M., we arrived at LAX for the 11:15 United flight to S.F., so one of her two suitcases somehow wound up travelling on the 10:30 United flight to S.F. When we arrived, we waited at Carousel 1 for our bags and one of hers didn't show. So we waited and waited…and there was no one to ask, "Are there any more coming down?" Recalling the times I've found out my luggage got in before me, I walked around the area where they store unclaimed bags, but I missed seeing hers. Finally, another passenger in the same predicament searched and found someone…and because of that, we found the errant suitcase. You'd think, in the age of computers, someone could invent a better way to do this. They have these bar codes that are supposed to track our stuff and tell them where it is. How about if they have someone right there at the carousel to tell us?

Oh, well. We had great Chinese food for dinner and of course, that makes almost anything better. I'll be hosting panels all weekend and reporting in here from time to time.

I hope you enjoyed reading the above. It cost me $14.95 to post it.

Frank Rich on how the line is being blurred between real news reporting and fake news reporting.

Animation webloggers are reacting with varying amounts of horror today over a press report that Warner Brothers Animation is prepping updated (like, into the future) versions of Bugs, Daffy and other classic characters. The goal here is a new franchise that takes the old, beloved players and styles them in some cutting-edge manner that will appeal to a new, younger audience. There will tentatively be a TV show called Loonatics, accompanied by a whole line of merchandising…and some folks are reacting as if it's all the greatest sin of blasphemy since someone first heckled the Holy Ghost.

I yield to no one in my reverence for the classic Looney Tunes cartoons and the men who made them, but it may be too early for talk of petitions, boycotts and nuking the Time-Warner building. First off, though some of the news reports are playing this as a "new displaces the old" move, that is clearly not the case. The original, true Bugs and Friends will be no less available than before, and I can't imagine the high-tech models usurping their place in history. The new cartoons would have to be pretty damn wonderful to make a dent in that.

This is just another repurposing from the marketing principles that brought you The Muppet Babies and Disney Babies and Yo, Yogi! and that show with a Batman in the future and, of course, Baby Looney Tunes, the new Duck Dodgers show and even Tiny Toon Adventures. When you have a successful property or group of properties and you've merchandised it to the max, the next step is to find a way to repackage it into something new — but not so new that it loses the heat of the established material. Some of those shows or campaigns were pretty good, some perhaps less than good…but in no way did they destroy or dislodge the underlying classics.

Secondly — and lastly, for now — I'm always uneasy when I see a new show or movie being condemned when it hasn't even been written yet. In articles like this one, we see that — and I quote: "Names for the new characters haven't been finalized, but they are likely to be derived from the originals: Buzz Bunny, for example." In other words, it's real early in the development process. Very little has been done and its unlikely than any of that is set in lucite. I can understand the temptation to leap to say something's a hopeless idea. I've done it myself at times, and it's not impossible that WB is announcing the project at such an early stage in order to gauge reaction. Still, there ought to be more than two daubs of green on the canvas before you say the painting stinks. If it eventually does, there will be plenty of time to say that later, after it actually exists.

I may have mentioned this before but many years ago, around the time I started edging into the TV business, I attended a lecture by a very accomplished, successful producer…a man with many prestigious credits. He told us that we had to recognize and avoid what he called "The Marley Ideas" — notions so dreadful that they were dead from the moment of conception. As an example, he told us that one TV network was then considering an idea so terrible, so guaranteed to fail, that everyone involved with it should be immediately fired for programming malpractice. And the way he described it, it sure sounded like you'd be an idiot to think that they could make a weekly series out of the movie, M*A*S*H.

Here's a rather meaty live chat with the Baghdad bureau chief for Newsweek, Rod Norland. It's all about the elections in Iraq and despite the attempts of some questioners to lump Norland in with extremists on either side, it comes off as a good, common sense look at the situation over there and what it means.

I may be guilty of some sloppy phrasing in the previous message so let me run through this again.  The Amos and Andy radio show actually overlapped the TV show. The Amos 'n' Andy Music Hall left the airwaves on November 25, 1960 (date courtesy of Anthony Tollin, who knows old radio better than anyone I know except Frank Buxton). The TV show was on from 1951-1953 in first-run. Reruns followed and they were very popular at first but ratings decreased and protests increased around the end of the fifties. CBS, which owned the program, formally withdrew it from syndication in 1966 but by that time, very few stations were airing it.

I have a story about this. Elsewhere on this site, there's a story about how I used to sneak in to watch Red Skelton rehearse his show over at Television City in Hollywood. This was made possible by a friend of mine named Mike who had a friend who worked there. One day, Mike's friend tipped him off to be at a certain trash dumpster outside at 3:00 in the afternoon and to bring a car. Neither Mike nor I drove so we got a friend who did and we went over there…and waited and waited. Sure enough, around 5:00, some people began dumping old 16mm prints of TV shows into that dumpster. They threw out maybe 500 cans of film and once they were gone, we began scooping them up and loading them in the car. I think we grabbed about a hundred before a security guard came by and chased us off.

Some of the films turned out to be unwatchable because the film had decayed or curdled, but most were perfect. There were about thirty episodes of Amos and Andy, a lot of G.E. Theaters hosted by Ronald Reagan, some kinescopes of soap operas and a couple of Groucho Marx treasures. In 1962, Groucho followed his long-running You Bet Your Life show for NBC with the similar-but-not-successful Tell it to Groucho for CBS. There were a number of those, plus a film — and we could never figure out why CBS had this — that had served as the pilot for the TV version of You Bet Your Life. It was a film of a recording session for the radio version intended, I guess, to see how the show looked so they could determine what they'd have to do to dress it up for television.

Mike and I showed some of these films at schools and a few public exhibitions, and then he got an offer and sold them all to some film dealer. The You Bet Your Life film has made the rounds of collectors and has been aired on the PBS series, I Remember Television. I suspect that all the copies of it that are around are copies, of varying generations, from that print we fished out of the trash. So, probably, are a lot of the Amos and Andy episodes that are now available on tape.

The TV show hadn't been withdrawn in '61 when Gosden and Correll went to work on Calvin and the Colonel, but the reruns were drawing protests by then, and everyone knew they had a problem. They also were out of work since, as noted above, the radio show had ended. Actually though — and I knew this but I wrote it wrong — they didn't create the show. It was created with them in mind by Bob Mosher and Joe Connelly, who had written the Amos and Andy TV show, and later went on to create Leave it to Beaver and The Munsters.

As some of you noted in e-mail to me, there were a couple of Amos and Andy cartoons done in the thirties. What none of you know is that there was talk of one in the eighties. Around '82, someone at CBS either discovered they had the rights to Amos and Andy, or thought they had the rights, and they pressured the Ruby-Spears animation studio to develop it as a possible Saturday morning series. Ruby-Spears, in turn, pressured me into writing the pilot…which I did, knowing full well the thing would never get on the air. As I recall, the day I handed in the script, the CBS exec called up and said, "We're not sure we have the rights…we have the lawyers working on it." And that was the last time the show was ever mentioned in my presence. I don't recall if it dawned on me at the time but what I wrote was basically an episode of Calvin and the Colonel, but with the characters turned back into human beings.

Over on Cartoon Brew, my pal Jerry Beck announces a Los Angeles screening of episodes of Calvin and the Colonel, a prime-time cartoon series that was on from 1961 to 1962 and has rarely been seen since. The series was created and the leads were voiced by Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll, the two white guys who played Amos and Andy (and other recurring characters) on the radio show of the same name. When Amos and Andy went to television, it was wonderfully recast with black actors. I used to love the TV show — especially Tim Moore as George "Kingfish" Stevens. Sadly, when they compile those silly lists of the all-time great TV characterizations, they never seem to rank Kingfish up there with Bilko and Bunker and Louie DePalma, which is where I think he belongs.

I never cared as much for the old radio programs when I tried listening to them, in part because that Kingfish didn't have the energy and wonderful timing that Tim Moore later brought to the role. And by the way, in case anyone's puzzled here: Amos and Andy started out being about Amos and Andy but at some point, Amos faded into supporting status and the show could have been called Kingfish and Andy. Correll voiced Andy, while Gosden was both Amos and the Kingfish. When the show went to television, the two men relinquished their roles and served as producers, and the show was quite successful, both first-run and in endless repeats. In the early sixties though, the endless repeats ended because the depiction of minorities made some — sponsors, especially — uncomfortable. I thought that was an overreaction, but that's another topic for another time. It was shortly after those shows disappeared from the screen that Gosden and Correll figured out a new, less-racial way to package their old act. They turned the Kingfish into a fox and Andy into a bear, and called it Calvin and the Colonel.

Jerry says the cartoon program was banned from distribution for years due to the participation of Gosden and Correll. That may be overstating the case a bit. A one season show needs to generate some interest to have an afterlife of any kind, and Calvin and the Colonel didn't manage that in its year of life. I liked it but much of the time, I opted to watch The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, which was opposite it on CBS. A cartoon show that couldn't hold my loyalty when I was ten was almost destined to fail. It's like if I wouldn't watch it every week, who would? I seem to recall a brief attempt to rerun the shows on either Saturday or Sunday afternoon which ended after a few weeks. Overall, I suspect its scarcity is due as much to it never attracting much of an audience as it is to any racial subtext. Or to put it another way: The fact that it was Amos and Andy in animal drag might not have mattered if the show had ever developed any real following.

Oddly enough, I watched two episodes just the other day — the first I'd seen in twenty or thirty years. There was a lot of funny stuff in them, especially as performed by voice whiz Paul Frees in an array of supporting roles. But the pace is sometimes very lethargic, and the shows have the fakest-possible canned laughter on them. It's not just bad because you can't imagine a live audience sitting there watching cartoon characters perform. It's bad the way clumsy sweetening can ruin a live-action sitcom. I enjoyed seeing them again, and I may even make it up to the screening later this month to hear the guests talk about the making of the show. But there are an awful lot of "lost" TV programs I'd rather watch…including the Amos and Andy shows with Tim Moore.