Monthly Archives: February 2007

Above, courtesy of our dear friends over at OldTVTickets.com, we have a ticket for a local, Los Angeles show called Bill Stulla's Parlor Party. The date on this ticket, as you can see, is September 9. I believe the year was 1952.

Bill Stulla was a fixture for years of L.A. broadcasting. His Parlor Party started life on radio and segued to TV…in what year, I do not know. The premise of the show was that it was an on-air birthday party. It was done live, of course, and each day they'd have on a batch of individuals who'd been born on that day. They'd entertain them and play games with them and interview them and serve cake and award prizes. I have a vague idea that at one point in the program's existence, the birthday celebrants covered a wide range of ages. But on the day I made my television debut on the program, the premise was that it was all kids, aged ten or younger. In my case, it was much younger.

I am describing to you one of my earliest memories. I remember being taken to the TV studio — I don't recall where but it was probably Sunset and Vine like the ticket says. KNBH was then the local NBC television affiliate. (In 1954, it became KRCA and in 1960, it was renamed KNBC.) I remember being dressed up, which I never liked. I remember being backstage and my mother furiously combing my hair (which I also never liked) and dealing with the fact that I didn't want to be there and do whatever I was supposed to do. I remember being told that my relatives and neighbors were all watching so I had to go through with it.

I had seen the show. Mr. Stulla, a genial man with glasses, welcomed his young guests as they came in through the door of a little storybook-type house on the stage. I remember being backstage without my mother, waiting on the other side of that door for someone to tell me to go through it and onto live television. Back there, it didn't look like a storybook house. It was all fake and that seemed odd and scary. Everything backstage was odd and scary.

Then someone shoved me out onto the stage. I remember blinding lights and Mr. Stulla sticking a microphone in my face and asking me my name. If he had waited for an answer, we'd still be there today.

I was absolutely terrified. I'm not sure of what but I was absolutely terrified. I mumbled something. I don't know what it was but it wasn't my name. Someone off-camera told it to him. Mr. Stulla, who'd done this before, attempted gamely to get me to speak up and answer his questions: How old was I? Did I have any brothers and sisters? Did I have any pets? (There's not a lot you can ask a kid that age.) But it didn't matter what he asked. I wasn't answering. In a very short span of time, he decided I was just one of those children who wasn't going to cooperate and he passed me over to the party area and brought the next toddler out through the phony door.

In the party area, I sat with complete strangers, awaiting cake that would celebrate our mutual birthday. I didn't see the point of that, either. There was a cake waiting for me at home. As I sat there, I went from really, really not wanting to be there to really, really, really not wanting to be there. Well before it was time to bring out the cake and have about a dozen of us make a group effort to blow out the candles, I wandered off the stage, found my parents in the audience and made them get me the hell out of there.

So what year was I on that show? That's what I'm trying to figure out. (In case it's not clear, the above ticket has nothing to do with my being on the program. It's just the only visual evidence I've ever come across that the series even existed.)

I was born in March of 1952. I once thought I was three or four when I made my inauspicious television debut. My mother doesn't remember but one time when I asked her about it, she did recall that my going on the show was at the urging of my Aunt Dot, who thought it would be the greatest thing in the world to see her adorable nephew on the television machine. Parents apparently wrote away in advance and if their kid was selected, they were told to bring him or her down to the studio on the day in question at such-and-such a time. They were also sent some number of tickets to dispense to friends and relatives to come down and watch the festivities.

Research suggests that Bill Stulla's Parlor Party was off the air before my third birthday. All the history I've seen says that in 1954, Mr. Stulla went to work on KHJ, Channel 9 here in Los Angeles, hosting what always seemed like the worst cartoons available. He was the guy who ran Colonel Bleep, for God's sake. He adopted a train motif for his show, called it Cartoon Express and became Engineer Bill. I'll bet a lot of people reading this who grew up in L.A. remember Engineer Bill. He did that series, Monday through Friday, until 1964.

If he stopped Parlor Partying on Channel 4 when he began Engineer Billing on Channel 9, that would mean I must have been two when I made my traumatic appearance. That seems too young to me. A few years ago when I met Mr. Stulla (he's still around, by the way), I asked him what year Bill Stulla's Parlor Party ended and if there was an overlap with his KHJ job. He told me it was probably '52. I told him it couldn't possibly have been '52 because I was on the show on my birthday and I was born in '52. He said in that case, he didn't remember the year but was sure it was "long" before he became Engineer Bill. It couldn't have been too long.

I'll be 55 years old this Friday. Up until I was around 40, I hated being in front of a TV camera. Twice in my earlier career, I was asked to play on-camera roles in shows I was writing. Once on Welcome Back, Kotter, they needed a tall guy to hover over Arnold Horshack and threaten to beat the crap out of him. I was asked to be that guy and I refused. I was willing to beat the crap out of Arnold Horshack but not to go on camera. Later on Pink Lady, they used the whole writing staff as extras (dancing, no less) in a sketch and I couldn't get out of that one. I did it but disliked every second of the experience. In fact, if my parents had been there, I think I would have walked off the stage, found them and forced them to take me home for cake.

I still don't love being on the business end of a lens but I can do it now without fleeing in terror. I do not think, by the way, that when I recoiled from it in my adult life, it was because it reminded me of my bad experience on Bill Stulla's Parlor Party. I think I was born hating to be on television and that like acne, my Snagglepuss t-shirt and thinking fart jokes were funny, I eventually outgrew it.

This has been the first in a series of my Horrible Childhood Memories. I'm not sure if and when I'll post another because I had a great childhood and don't have many horrible memories. But one of these days, I may post another one. (I still can't believe I was two when this one happened…)

My buddy Buzz Dixon suggests I link to this article by Joe Lieberman which puts forth the argument that things in Iraq aren't as hopeless as they might seem and that "success" (which I wish he and those campaigning for it would define clearer) is still attainable.

As you may recall, I wasn't a fan of Mr. Lieberman, even back when he was a Democrat. Lately, a lot of his public statements urging his colleagues to withhold criticisms of the war and "support the troops" sound to me like pleadings to stop reminding everyone how spectacularly wrong he and those on his side of this issue have repeatedly been. But hope springs eternal, I guess. I'd genuinely like to believe there is some light at the end of that tunnel and I sure would like to understand better why some people think that. If you do, give it a read.

I have no idea who made this short cartoon or who's singing or anything other than you'll be able to deduce on your own. I just know it will make my friend Paul Dini very happy. This one's for you, Paul…

In Las Vegas, the closing odds on last night's Academy Awards had Eddie Murphy favored to win Best Supporting Actor, Jennifer Hudson for Best Supporting Actress, Forest Whitaker for Best Actor, Helen Mirren for Best Actress and The Departed for Best Picture. So they got four out of five right. I'm not sure too many of the critics did that well.

Oops. Nat Gertler informs me that the actors who were played on with the theme from the old Spider-Man cartoon were Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst. Shows you how much attention I was paying.

They played Queen Latifah and John Travolta on with a song from the forthcoming movie of the musical, Hairspray, which both are in. Shouldn't the Academy wait until the movie is out before it gets that kind of plug?

The Best Acting Oscars this year went to people playing Idi Amin and Queen Elizabeth II. If you were an actor trying to decide what kind of role was most likely to get you an Academy Award, what would you deduce from this trend?

Okay, Scorcese finally won. At any given time, there's always that one glaring omission…that one person who you can't believe never won an Oscar. Who is it now?

It's over…well, except for nineteen minutes of end credits. What's the official running time? Three hours and forty-nine minutes? Something like that. Lord, how people are going to curse about that.

They're playing the song, "Hooray for Hollywood." Amazing. I haven't been so shocked since I went into an Italian restaurant and I heard a Sinatra record.

Like I said, I think Ellen did an okay job. I doubt they'll ask her back but then again, I didn't think they'd ask her in the first place. It's a shame there doesn't seem to be anyone like Hope or Carson who can lend an air of importance to the proceedings by their very presence. With most hosts these days, the show makes them important. It used to be the other way around.

That's it from Tinsel Town. I'm going back to a script that's due tomorrow.

The Supreme Court has just ruled 5-4 to give the Academy Award for Best Documentary to Jesus Camp.

Ellen DeGeneres is doing a decent enough job as host. To some extent, she's making the same mistake Letterman made when he hosted, which was to think this was an episode of his regular talk show but with some award presentations inserted. But Ellen is so self-effacing and pleasant that it doesn't get in the way of the proceedings. I suspect the telecast will be faulted for its sheer length…but it always is.

I was surprised her monologue wasn't sharper. It seemed to get things off to a sluggish start. So did the overlong montage of nominees making cute remarks.

Another slow starter was the lack of what they call "major awards" during the first hour or so. Usually, they give out one of the Best Supporting trophies right off the top in order to ramp up the energy. Bet they go back to that next year.

What I'd do: If I were in charge of the broadcast, I'd dump all the backstage antics, all the stuff in the wings. Who cares? Hyping what's coming up next is another way of saying, "Hey, we know it's dull but if you'll stick around, it may get exciting." I'd also drop the little trivia facts as the winners walk to the stage. It's not that long a period to expect people to pay attention.

Is it a requirement that when you win an Oscar, you have to either hold the statuette up like a Price is Right model or raise it over your head like it's a "power to the people" salute?

When someone wrote the theme song for the 1967 Spider-Man cartoon series for Saturday morning, do you think that person or persons ever dreamed it would someday be used to play on a presenter — in this case, Leonardo DiCaprio — at the Academy Awards?

I've been fast-forwarding so I may have missed one but I don't think we've had a joke about Britney Spears or Anna Nicole or the Lady Astronaut in Diapers or even a line about Joan Rivers out on the red carpet. If so, good for Ellen, good for the writers.

Wouldn't Steve Carrell be a good Oscar host?

The silhouette dancers are interesting but when the show feels long — and this one sure does — audiences get very unappreciative of "extras" like that.

Lastly for now: If anyone voted for An Inconvenient Truth because (as per the Evanier Theory), they thought Al Gore would give an acceptance speech of historic proportions, I think they got shortchanged. It was pleasant enough. People who already didn't like Gore are probably already bitching about it on some message board but they'd complain about anything he said. I like him and I'm complaining because he could have looked the world in the eye and said something they'd all be talking about the next day. And that's why he made the movie: So people would talk about Global Warming. It wasn't a bad moment but it was an easily-forgotten one. By the time we get to Best Director, no one on the planet will even remember what Gore said.

I'm catching a little of the Academy Awards Red Carpet arrivals on KABC Channel 7 at the moment. I sometimes feel sorry for everyone who has to make small talk in these situations. The interviewers have to gush over the interviewees and the interviewees have to gush over everyone and everything. So far, the only thing I've heard that departs from that script is Steve Carrell saying it was an ordeal to spend time in a trailer with Greg Kinnear because of Kinnear's bad personal hygeine.

But I think I can see why a lot of folks across America think that people in Hollywood are different. Maybe it's just the DirecTV satellite feed but it looks like everyone in the movie business tonight is just a little bit out of sync. Out in the heartland when people talk, their lips match up with their voices.

Well, it worked out pretty much as we expected. Some of us thought Boomerang was going to run the 1966 Hanna-Barbera version of Alice in Wonderland this afternoon commencing at 1:45 PM. Here — here's what the online TV Guide listing still says…

Alice in Wonderland
1:45pm  BOOM  ch:297  60min
Animation and music are combined in this spoof of Lewis Carroll's classic tale. The story opens as Alice tumbles through the TV set—and into Wonderland. Voices…Alice: Janet Waldo. Cheshire Cat: Sammy Davis Jr. White Rabbit: Howard Morris. Hedda Hatter: Hedda Hopper. Queen of Hearts: Zsa Zsa Gabor. Mad Hatter: Harvey Korman.

That's the description of the '66 H-B version but what they ran instead was a 1995 animated version of Alice in Wonderland produced by Goodtimes Entertainment, primarily for the home video market.

I don't know that this is Boomerang's fault. I never saw them explicitly advertise the '66 H-B Alice. Perhaps the confusion was elsewhere.

On the other hand, the Boomerang folks are to blame for the fact that they advertised the show as starting at 1:45 and it actually began at 1:50. That means that if you were TiVoing the program before it, which was the 1974 Hanna-Barbera animated version of Cyrano (with José Ferrer voicing the title role), your recording would have clipped off the last minute or two. I don't know why they do this. I can't imagine any possible upside for the network to not give out accurate start/end times. And it's not like these are live shows and no one knows how long they'll run.

This coming Friday, the annual WonderCon convenes at the Moscone Center in San Francisco. The WonderCon is similar to the annual Comic-Con International in San Diego — it's even run by the same people — but it's smaller and doesn't make you feel like a gnat the moment you walk into the hall. Which is not to say there isn't plenty to do, plenty to see, plenty to buy. Think of it as Comic-Con International on a more human, rational level. It has many of the same attributes of its larger relative…including panels hosted by me.

Clicking on the above box will take you to a page that lists these panels. Or you can click here. Doesn't make any difference to me. Either click will get you to a list of events you won't want to miss at a convention you won't want to miss. As you can see, I actually have some hours when I'm not hosting a panel and interviewing some important person in comic book history. If you encounter me during one of those hours, please say hello. Because otherwise, I won't know what to do with that time.

The other night on The Late Late Show, your host Craig Ferguson did one of his more interesting monologues. It was about why he'd decided not to pile on the jokes with regard to the Britney Spears spectacle. His reasons had to do with his own alcohol problems of the past, which he discussed with a candor one does not often get from a late night host.

This link should let you watch the whole monologue, which runs a little over twelve minutes. It reminds me that I need to set the TiVo more often to catch at least Ferguson's opening remarks.

Seymour Hersh writes about how The War on Terrorism is going. His conclusion is that this country is doing much that is making the situation worse, including ramping up for attacks on Iran. Scary stuff.

Say, how about if we watch a Daffy Duck cartoon? You could always do with a Daffy Duck cartoon. This is Daffy Duck and the Dinosaur, which was released April 22, 1939. It was directed by Chuck Jones — one of his earlier efforts and the first time he ever got his hands on that crazy water fowl.

Mel Blanc, of course, supplies the voice of Daffy. His adversary, Casper Caveman, is a caricature in voice (and to some extent, manner and appearance) of Mr. Blanc's frequent employer, Jack Benny. The impression was done by an actor/announcer named Jack Lescoulie who was then on a Los Angeles-based radio series called The Grouch Club, produced by the great Nat Hiken. Lescoulie later relocated to New York where he a prominent announcer/host on NBC shows for many years. He was a regular on The Today Show from 1952 to 1967 and was a host of Tonight: America After Dark, the short-lived series that NBC attempted to launch in the 11:30 PM Monday-Friday slot in 1957 after Steve Allen left The Tonight Show. It flopped big and the network hurriedly brought back The Tonight Show and got Jack Paar to host it. Lescoulie later filled in occasionally as announcer/sidekick on The Tonight Show during both the Paar and Johnny Carson years.

Anyway, that's him doing Jack Benny. Here comes the cartoon…

Several folks have written to inform me, like I got it wrong, that if An Inconvenient Truth wins for Best Documentary, Al Gore does not receive the Oscar. It goes to the film's director, Davis Guggenheim. One could also go to one of its three producers, none of whom is Gore.

I didn't say Gore would get the statuette. The rule is that two people get to go up on stage and "win." I put that in quotes because, of course, if the film wins, all the producers win in a very real sense. But only one would get to go up and get a statuette at the ceremony and if Gore's appearance weren't an issue — say, if he'd decided not to attend — then they would have designated one of the three producers for the other slot. But they haven't. They've left it open, which is their way of making Gore eligible to go up on stage. Since he's in town and attending the festivities, everyone assumes he'll go up there. That's assuming the film wins. As I understand the rules, they have a certain number of seconds to speak (45, I think) and can apportion it however they like.

But I also didn't say that Gore would make a speech. He could just stand there looking respectful and saying nothing, or just saying, "Thank you." Some might think that was very classy of him. My point was that I suspect there were some votes for the film because people thought it would lead to Al Gore making a memorable speech. He could well disappoint them. Goodness knows, it's not like he never disappointed anyone who cast a vote for him.

And no, I don't think he will take the opportunity to announce he's running for President. First off, he may never announce that. Secondly, if he is thinking of getting in, he could easily pick a time 'n' place where he wouldn't launch his candidacy by being accused of exploiting the Oscars (and the campaign against Global Warming) for personal reasons.

My guess as to what's on Gore's mind with regard to '08 is no better than anyone else's, maybe a bit worse. But if he is open to the idea of running, he may be figuring to wait a while. Let the other contenders duke it out. Let it become clearer what the key issues will be in that election. If and when he does get in, we're going to hear very little from the Press Corps about his positions and policies. It's all going to be about how he doesn't know who he is and what his wardrobe selections tell us about the man…and by the way, he needs to lose twenty pounds. Something about Al Gore always seems to turn the reporters who cover him into Joan Rivers. If he waits eight more months to enter the race, that's eight months of that crap we don't have to endure.

In fact, as long as he doesn't announce for President, people might actually listen to what he has to say. True, they'd only be listening because they want to hear if he's going to run or not. But at least they'd be listening.

Also: A couple of folks have written to ask who I think will be honored in the "In Memoriam" montage. This weblog has had too much about death on it lately so I don't think I want to ponder that one for long. But we'll certainly see Glenn Ford, Maureen Stapleton, Don Knotts, Robert Altman, Peter Boyle, Jack Warden, Red Buttons, Joe Barbera, Carlo Ponti, Jane Wyatt, June Allyson, Betty Comden, Yvonne DeCarlo, Gordon Parks and Vincent Sherman, plus others. And I'll predict they'll either open or close with Jack Palance doing one-armed push-ups.