Okay, here's the quote…
We're about to enter the seventh year of this phony war…and we're losing. None of you should believe we are winning this war. There is no evidence that we are winning this war.
Obviously, I wouldn't be quoting it and asking you to guess if it came from some Liberal Democrat since so many of them are saying it. Obviously, it has to be some Republican stalwart turning on the dominant mindset of his party. But which Republican stalwart?
I may be wrong — I hope I'm wrong — but we may have seen the last of the Love's Barbecue Restaurant chain. Once a mighty network of places to get decent ribs and great beans, the empire has slowly eroded over the years. Most of them closed. A few turned into non-Love's restaurants featuring essentially the same cuisine. That's what happened out in Brea, California. The Love's there is now a place called Riley's that is similar but it's not a Love's.
Until recently, the Love's website listed three remaining outlets — one in Lakewood, one in Chula Vista and one in — of all places — Jakarta, Indonesia. This has now changed. The one in Lakewood appears to have gone out of business. At least, there's no answer when I phone its number and it's no longer on the Love's site. The one in Chula Vista is off the site as well but is still operating, a la Riley's, as The Great Rib Restaurant, which was an occasional subtitle of some Love's advertising. The site now only lists the one in Jakarta, where I'm not likely to be visiting any time soon.
So is that it for one of my favorite chains and the place that served the best barbecue beans I've ever had? I hope not. I'm going to do a little legwork and see what I can find out but I'm not hopeful.
About those beans…
If you do a search, you can find two different recipes posted online that will allegedly yield Love's famous beans and while I haven't tried whipping up either, I can't believe they're legit. One is often attributed to the L.A. Times as a source and either is sometimes identified by someone saying, "I used to work at a Love's and here's the recipe we used." But neither one, for example, involves any use of either Love's barbecue sauce or the listed ingredients for that sauce…and I'm pretty sure the beans incorporated either the sauce or something similar. Also, of course, the fact that there are two different recipes is a tip-off that at least one is bogus and makes you suspicious about the other.
A few years ago, the Love's site announced that they'd soon be selling their beans online but they never did. One can still supposedly buy their sauce that way but I wonder if it's even being bottled any longer. I have two or three bottles remaining from the last case I ordered and when they're used up, I suppose I'll find out.
It's no longer on this site because I included it in one of my books but I once wrote a piece about how much I liked Love's. The article drew a lot of responses from folks who agreed and who longed for the beans…and I think I'll stop thinking about this now. If I keep on the topic, I'll be forced to hop in the car and drive to Brea or Chula Vista for some of the beans at the non-Love's outlets there. They may not be precisely the real thing but they're probably close and in this life, you take what you can get.
Gabe Kaplan, for whom I once wrote, hasn't really been away. He's been touring with his stand-up act and in plays. He's been hosting sports shows and playing in poker tournaments where one can win six figures…and he occasionally has. He's been pursuing a wide array of professions of things and now he's writing again, which is nice to see. I've encountered lots of comedians who were unethical, unkind and/or unclever. Gabe, at least when I knew him, was the exact opposite of those things. Thanks to Marina Stern for calling this piece to my attention.
Michael Ignatieff, a member of Canada's Parliament and deputy leader of the Liberal Party, was once a supporter of the Iraq War. Now, he writes about the necessity for admitting when one is wrong.
A nice little dance number with Dean Martin, Buddy Ebsen, Lee J. Cobb, Charles Nelson Reilly and Jackie Vernon. Dino was one of the very few performers ever on TV who could make a bit like this work.
I've been telling you here that the crows in my area are getting larger and larger…but are you worried? No. Well, maybe this will get you to start worrying about crows. Two dead ones in Southern California have been identified as carrying the West Nile Virus. Now, granted this is in West Covina, which is about thirty miles from me…but that's thirty miles as the crow flies.
Stop worrying about terrorists, people. Worry about the crows. They're going to kill us all. (Thanks to Corey Klemow for calling my attention to the news item and ruining my sleep for the next week or so.)
I'm still a bit jet-lagged from last week's Comic-Con in San Diego…an amazing condition when you consider that I drove there. But I've been operating in a semi-fog for much of the week and was in a particularly dense one last night when I wrote here that I couldn't recall a lasting ad campaign where a cartoon character was selling a product that involved the consumption of his own species. Too many of you to list wrote to throw the hallowed name of Charlie the Tuna in my face, and you're all correct.
On the other hand or fin or whatever, I would point out that the concept behind those commercials was that if you bought the product, you wouldn't be eating the lovable cartoon mascot. The suicidal fish (voiced by Herschel Bernardi until he passed away) would definitely not be in the can of Star-Kist Tuna you purchased and mixed with mayo. So that's a little different from Foghorn Leghorn suggesting you rush out and purchase what could have been his own drumsticks and gizzard, battered and deep-fried.
As many of you know, I have a book coming out later this year called Kirby: King of Comics, an art book about the great comic book creator, Jack Kirby, with a medium-length biography. (A longer bio by me will be along in a couple more years and it will make Bugliosi's tome look like a Big Little Book.) You can advance-order Kirby: King of Comics from Amazon by clicking here.
What you may not know is that the book hasn't gone to press yet. That event is looming large before me and I'm down now to finalizing the contents. I mean, like in the next day or three.
A lot of people have offered me rare, historic Kirby artwork to include in the book…and I must confess and apologize that I was swamped by the response and didn't manage to get back to everyone promptly. I think I've caught up on most contacts but I'm sure I've missed some. Also, at the Comic-Con in San Diego, I spoke to a few folks who were going to e-mail me or I was supposed to e-mail them or…well, whoever's fault it was — probably mine — we haven't connected. And now I have to firm up what's going into the book.
If you have some great piece of Jack Kirby art that might belong in this book, whether we've spoken or not about it, could you send me an e-mail right away? I promise to answer them all promptly. Include your phone number if you're willing to communicate that way. I think we already have an incredible book full of incredible art…but I wouldn't want to miss including some essential treasure because of my sloppy follow-ups. Thanks.
No, I haven't been able to make it all the way through Vincent Bugliosi's new 1600+ page book on the Kennedy assassination and neither have you. The main difference between us is that you were probably smart enough not to try. Not that the text of Reclaiming History: The Assassination of President John F. Kennedy isn't accurate. From what I can tell — reading as much as I've been able to read and checking out the rather feeble rebuttals around — Bugliosi has made a reasonably airtight case that L.H. Oswald acted alone in offing our thirty-fifth president. I'm just not sure he made it in a way that will convince even the eleven people in this country who might still be persuaded. (Here's an interesting column on some folks who can't be.)
One of the things that helped to break my interest in the case — at one point, a very strong interest — was the realization that most "conspiracy buffs" were intractable in their view that there was a conspiracy. Most were not irrevocably wedded to one theory of Who Killed JFK? A few were irrevocably wedded to more than one but most had their one theory and the view that it was an ongoing investigation; that there was so much that had been withheld or unscrutinized that we didn't have all the facts. They were willing to follow the evidence anywhere as long as it did not lead back to the Warren Commission verdict. Almost anything else was believable but not that.
I came to the conclusion that too many of them — not every person but enough to control the dynamic of that community — had some sort of deep emotional need to deny The Official Version. In some cases, it was a kind of snobbery and status; in others, a distrust of authority that went far beyond a healthy, admirable skepticism. They claimed to live for solid proof of what happened on 11/23/63 but if that solid proof had been than Oswald dunnit by his lonesome, that would have robbed them of something vital in their lives. Some would have lost their incomes and/or their very identities. So it had to be denied at all costs.
The turning point for me may have been an all-day conference I attended around 1974 — a gathering of Kennedy assassination "buffs" that was billed as an open forum and discussion. I was stunned at the extent to which the Closed Mind faction controlled the agenda. If you'd gotten up and argued that Kennedy was slain by four-legged Venusians, you'd have been allowed to talk because "all viewpoints must be considered." But stand up and suggest that Oswald actually owned the Mannlicher-Carcano rifle registered to him and you were hooted down, ruled out of order and almost made to stand in the corner. "We've moved past those lies," someone yelled. At the time, I thought there was a conspiracy of some sort — I would later be persuaded otherwise — but I found the stonewalling unacceptable. If you want the truth in this world, you have to be able to accept that it may not turn out to be what you want it to be.
The problem with Bugliosi's volume? In order to even pick up a book that thick about the case, you have to already have a powerful interest in the topic. And if you do, you probably already have an opinion set in plaster if not concrete. I admire Bugliosi's effort but I doubt he's going to change anyone's mind on any topic except maybe the purchase of books by Vince Bugliosi.
Let's discuss cartoon characters and puppets being used in commercials for the eating of their species. But before we do, watch this PARODY commercial from a 1992 episode of Saturday Night Live…
Outrageous idea, huh? A chicken selling flame-broiled chicken. But take a look at this REAL commercial from 1987…
Suddenly, the parody doesn't seem all that outrageous…and there have been other real examples. Every so often, some genius at an advertising agency gets the idea that the way to sell some food product is to have the creature that's being devoured pimp for it. (Another that comes immediately to mind is that Denny's spot where Miss Piggy was hawking the Grand Slam Breakfast, bacon strips and all.) I can't recall when one of these campaigns has lasted for any length of time, which leads me to conclude that it's as uncommercial an idea as it is tasteless. But someone will try one again soon. Count on it.
Joe Conason on where we are with Iraq. This thing could go several ways but none of them are very pretty.
Did you grow up in Los Angeles? If not, skip to the next item. If you did, keep reading.
Fellow Angelenos: There's a great website called L.A. Radio that tracks the local radio personalities of yesteryear with articles and indices. Usually, it's a subscription (pay) site but for this weekend only, you can browse for free. Instructions on how to do this are on the first page, as is a salute to The Real Don Steele, a local legend of Los Angeles radio.
I've read a few pieces on there. The first guy I looked up was "Sweet" Dick Whittington, who I followed fiercely on KABC from 1966 through 1968 and then on KGIL for ten years after that. (He should not be confused with another local broadcaster, Dick Whittinghill, who was on KMPC from about the time Marconi invented the radio until 1979.) Whittington was one of the freshest, funniest talents to ever work a microphone and some of the things I heard him say are still part of my repertoire of silly things to say. If you heard him today, you'd think you were listening to a guy imitating the less controversial, funnier aspects of Howard Stern and Don Imus, but Whittington was doing that kind of thing before either of them. I wonder if anyone has any tapes of vintage Whittington.
We cover many important topics on this site — politics, comics, movies, my cell phone problems — but none more important than Baby Pandas. Baby Pandas, as you well know, are the cutest thing in the world.
There is one more Baby Panda in the world today. Bai Yun, a giant panda at the San Diego Zoo, gave birth this afternoon at 1:31 PM. So far, there are no pictures of the cub and zoo authorities haven't gotten close enough to determine its sex. But it's a Baby Panda and any day now, we should get to see it in all its unparalleled cuteness.
In the meantime, the zoo has some video clips on this page of its website. There's one there entitled "Panda Birth" that shows the announcement and some footage of Bai Yun in labor. There's another one called "Giant Panda Birth Watch" that will show you how she got pregnant. One of the reasons pandas don't mate more often is probably because they never have a minute of privacy.
At a Comic-Con International a few years back, I met a photographer named Greg Preston who had an interesting project. He'd been travelling the country taking photos of comic book and comic strip artists in their studios. The pictures were magnificent. Not only had he gotten shots of some of the best in the field, not only had he gotten some important ones (like Carl Barks and Jack Kirby) before we lost them…but the photographs were good photographs. They looked like the people and in most cases, captured some key aspect of the person's personality. You could just look at one and understand a little more about a favorite cartoonist or illustrator.
Greg was then looking for the right situation to put them in a book…and I'm delighted to say he found it. Dark Horse has recently issued The Artist Within, a handsome hardcover that needs no hard sell from me. If you're not convinced it belongs on your shelf, go look at a few samples of what's in it. Then click here to order a copy from Amazon. I'd gush further but the photos really speak for themselves.
Turner Classic Movies is currently running a "salute" to Joan Crawford. I put in the quote marks because they're running all of her best movies and then, in the wee small hours of tomorrow morning, they're running Trog, a 1970 film that pretty much suggests the following scenario. Someone approached Ms. Crawford and said, "Joan, dear, you're getting along in years and your health isn't great. You may have only enough time left on this planet to appear in one more movie. Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do as your final project?"
To which Joan Crawford replied, "Yes. I've been thinking…I've appeared in so many great movies, so many true classics, that I think I ought to cap my career with the worst movie ever made. I think it would be a wonderful trick to play on my many fans. I want them to all rush to see a film because I'm in it and then just sit there in the theater, thoroughly appalled — and hopefully drinking Pepsi-Cola — at the most tasteless, uninteresting, crummy, low budget horror film I can find. Ideally, they will all stumble from the theater, go home and start petitions to revoke my Oscar for Mildred Pierce."
To which her friend must have said, "You can't possibly mean you're thinking of appearing in…"
"That's right," Ms. Crawford replied. "I'm thinking of appearing in Trog."
It's the only possible explanation.