Enrico Banducci, R.I.P.

I never set foot in the place but I always heard about the legendary nightclub, the hungry i in San Francisco. It was always typed that way — in all lower case — and it was located at 599 Jackson Street in the North Beach district. A stunning number of famous acts — comedians mostly but also musicians — either got their start there or got famous performing there. The list includes Woody Allen, Lenny Bruce, Barbra Streisand, Jonathan Winters, Bill Cosby and Godfrey Cambridge. No one has ever done an official tally but I suspect that more "live" performance record albums were recorded at the hungry i than at any other performing venue in the country. Tom Lehrer's last album was done there. The Limeliters did their biggest album there and The Kingston Trio did several. So did Mort Sahl, so did The Smothers Brothers…and so on. For most of its existence, the hungry i was owned and operated by a flamboyant gent named Enrico Banducci, whose real name was not Enrico Banducci but rather something more Jewish and less colorful.

Earlier this evening, I was at a gathering of what might politely be called "older comedians" and it was announced that Enrico Banducci died this morning. Almost everyone in the group had either worked for him or dealt with him in some professional capacity. Not one of them had anything but praise for his ability to spot talent and his honest business policies.

For comedians to feel that way about a club owner…that's unheard of. And a fine tribute to Mr. Banducci.

Happiness Is A Warmer Biographer

As noted in this article, the family of Charles M. Schulz is not happy with an upcoming biography of the creator of Charlie Brown and Snoopy. They gave total access and cooperation to David Michaelis so he could write Schulz and Peanuts. Now, they're giving a lot of publicity and attention to the book by announcing that it unfairly stresses the dark side of "Sparky" Schulz. Aren't you more intrigued to know that it delves into Schulz's affairs and disturbances? Even if you aren't, most of us are.

I didn't know Schulz that well, though the six or seven hours I spent with him total over the years are six or seven more than Michaelis did. I found "Sparky" to be genial, very courteous and somewhat more complex than the shallow guy that was often depicted in articles about him. He had a certain arrogance of ego that I considered understandable, given what he had achieved. It was probably less than that of most people with similar bank accounts and accomplishment. Yeah, he thought the world concurred that he was doing the greatest comic strip ever produced and that he'd invented the most popular characters in U.S. popular fiction…but it's not like he was all alone in that viewpoint. Probably the worst things I ever heard about him from his close associates were tales of him handling collaborative endeavors (dealings with the syndicate, production of animation or merchandise, etc.) the same way he handled his strip, which was that no one's opinions mattered but his own. Again, given what he achieved, that's not so surprising. Or awful.

I've ordered the book — which you can do from Amazon by clicking here — but it will join my "to be read" pile, which is now about the height of the Space Needle in Seattle. By the time I get to it, I expect to have heard the opinions of many who were closer to Schulz than I was but not as close as his family. I'll let you know how many grains of salt I decide to afford it.

Today's Video Link

One of my favorite musical groups of the sixties was The Turtles. It wasn't so much that I liked their music as that I just liked them. They clearly didn't take rock stardom seriously and it always seemed like whatever they were doing, they were having a great time doing it…and some of their music was pretty good. I mean, how can you not love a group that will stick "et cetera" into the lyrics of a love song? The Turtles broke up around 1970 and the two key members, Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan, worked for a time with Frank Zappa, then struck out on their own under the names "Flo and Eddie" for a while. Now, they've regained the legal right to the name "The Turtles" (they lost it for a while, which is why they were Flo and Eddie) and they occasionally tour and do "oldies" shows and such.

Our clip today is four minutes for a documentary that was done a few years back on The Turtles. In it, Volman and Kaylan explain the group's constant wars with those who would manage them. A friend of mine in the record business told me that these four minutes should be required viewing for anyone who's thinking about becoming a professional musician. It's a tale that is, alas, not unique.

Today's Political Thought

Here's a paragraph from a New York Times article headlined, "Democrats Seem Ready to Extend Wiretap Powers"…

As the debate over the eavesdropping powers of the National Security Agency begins anew this week, the emerging measures reflect the reality confronting the Democrats. Although willing to oppose the White House on the Iraq war, they remain nervous that they will be called soft on terrorism if they insist on strict curbs on gathering intelligence.

Just who are they worried is going to call them soft on terrorism? The 63% of the country that wants us out of Iraq? They're not going to call someone who forces an end to this war "soft on terrorism."

And if they're worried about the 35% that wants us to stay…well, that 35% is going to hurl that insult at anyone who opposes Bush in any way. Matter of fact, no matter what Democrats do, Republicans are going to call them "soft on terrorism." Joe Biden could go catch Osama and strangle the guy with his bare hands and not change that.

If I were a Democrat in Congress, I'd be more concerned with 63% of the country calling me "soft on political courage."

Sweet Mystery of Life, Chapter Two

The other day here, I told about two guys who I spotted in a local supermarket, denuding the shelves of every kind of solid chocolate they could find. I had no idea why they were doing such a thing and neither did the employees of the market. I appealed to you here for theories and you folks supplied many…

  • Nick Varga wrote, "My thought on the chocolate puzzle is the it might be something like Dinner: Impossible from the Food Network. D.I. is a show where the chef needs to put together a unique gourmet menu with limited time and resources. But they would've had cameras around filming them, or at least to catch them coming out of the store with all that high-carb stuff.
  • Dave Lowe says, "My gut feeling is they might be some P.A.s or prop people buying chocolate for some gag or set decor. I know in my work, I've had to do similar and felt the odd stares from fellow shoppers. Case in point, years ago I worked on a Nickelodeon game show and would have to clean grocery stores out of whipped cream for pie fights or apple sauce and green food coloring for "slime" making.
  • Bryan, who asks that his last name not be used, suggests, "The only thing I can think of that would have those guys buying up chocolate is that I've heard that (some of) the candy industry is wanting to change the formulation of the stuff. If that were about to happen, maybe these guys are planning to hoard the old stuff and eBay it.
  • Jim Guida just asks, "Why wouldn't someone buy that much chocolate?" Good point, Jim.
  • Patrick Shaughnessy thinks, "They were stoned." And Alex Ness had much the same idea: "They were hippies who were planning to smoke much dope and needed to acquire predope munchie material."
  • Nat Gertler points out, "When this has happened in the past, this has ended up with (a) the purchaser being investigated for terrorism or (b) the purchaser getting a golden ticket, but still being beaten out by Charlie and his Grandpa for the real prize, inheriting the factory, oompa-loompas and all."
  • Edward Douglas also went the Wonka way with it: "I thought it would be pretty obvious that those guys were planning a trip down to Loompaland where they'll be living like kings for the rest of their natural lives."
  • Joe Frank's thought is that, and I quote: "Maybe they're trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records under the Biggest Zit category."
  • Someone named Frank theorizes, "My guess it's for a college/frat/charity Halloween party for kids." And Buzz Dixon offers, "My guess would be a college fraternity initiation prank" while Michael Schlesinger has two guesses — "College initiation ritual or really deranged scavenger hunt."

Well, your guesses are as good as mine…better, actually, since I don't really have one. But there were no cameras in evidence and the guys didn't look like dopers. Then again, neither have most of the dopers I've known. I will add one more piece to the puzzle, though: Until one e-mailer mentioned it, I forgot that we're approaching Halloween…and one of the reasons I didn't figure that into the possibilities is that when I saw the guys' carts, I didn't see any Halloween bags of candy. Maybe I missed them but I'm thinking they hadn't grabbed up the big bags of miniature Hershey bars that were for sale there in Halloween packaging. Maybe, as Ellery Queen would say, that's a clue.

Grand (and Not So Grand) Canyon

Here's an article about Milton Caniff's work and an upcoming exhibit thereof. The piece seems to suggest that the Steve Canyon strip lost popularity near the end because it was a military strip and the nation was turning against the Vietnam War. I don't think I'd draw that connection so directly or fervently. All adventure strips, including those that in no way reflected the war, were losing popularity then at about the same rate. In addition, Steve Canyon was in an awful lot of newspapers that, through no fault of Caniff's, went out of business.

And there was a third reason that I suspect mattered more than Caniff's politics. It's that his strip, the last decade or so, wasn't all that wonderful. Al Capp had the same problem with Li'l Abner. It wasn't a very good strip near the end and while Capp, perhaps understandably, preferred to blame other factors…well, just read those last few years some time and see if he wasn't coasting on his rep. (The shrinking size of all strips was yet another problem.)

Caniff had simply burned out on his own strip by his last decade. Dick Rockwell was doing most of the art and he was getting old and not doing great work, either. Milton didn't seem to know what to do with Steve Canyon, as witness the many silly "Steve is dreaming" storylines that imagined the character in other time periods. To the extent Vietnam damaged the strip, it was because Caniff didn't know what to do about that war in his continuity and couldn't come up with an interesting alternative. He was a brilliant man and a brilliant artist, and when he was at his best, he was better than just about anybody. But his best wasn't those last ten years. It was all of Terry and the Pirates and then about the first two decades of Steve Canyon.

Today's Video Link

Yesterday, we favored you with the opening to the Beetle Bailey cartoons that were produced for TV in the early sixties. Here's the opening of the Snuffy Smith cartoons that were produced by the same company at the same time. That's Paul Frees you'll hear providing the voice of the bodacious Mr. Smith…and if you look fast, you'll notice the name of the late Dennis Marks listed as writer.

Dave Mackey informs me that some of the Beetle Bailey cartoons weren't done by the Paramount Studio but by Gerry Ray's crew in the United Kingdom — the same outfit that did the Beatles cartoons and also worked on the Yellow Submarine feature. He adds…

I wouldn't call it "the remnants" of Paramount, though, because there was still a theatrical release schedule to fill in addition to these TV cartoons (starting with the new Popeye series in 1960), and everyone was working harder than normal to get all these cartoons out. IMHO, this grueling schedule may have contributed to Seymour Kneitel's weakening heart condition and subsequent death in 1964.

For some reason, all these cartoons — including the Krazy Kats (mostly Gene Deitch, with some Jack Kinney episodes and two made at Paramount) and the Snuffy Smiths (all Paramount) made concurrently, were recorded in Hollywood (which explains Morris, Melvin, Frees, etc.), and more of an effort was made to have more traditional sitcom-type writers on staff rather than just relying on the Paramount storymen (by that time, pretty much Burton Goodman, Jack Mercer and Howard Post). Many of the Krazys had been written by Eli Bauer, who worked quite often with Gene Deitch and his alternate director, Al Kouzel. There were even a few Beetle Baileys written by Morris and Melvin! Was Al Brodax supervising the stories from Hollywood? Who was running the recording sessions? I'd be interested in knowing how that worked.

Unfortunately, when I asked Howie Morris some of these questions, he had no memory of the show other than that he recalled getting hired for Beetle Bailey and recommending Allan Melvin. (Howie was teamed with Allan on Magilla Gorilla, Atom Ant and a few other Hanna-Barbera projects and they were good friends.) The writers seem to have come from both coasts but primarily from the East, and I have no idea why they did that or why the voices were done out here. Brodax was based in New York as far as I know.

Here's the opening to Snuffy Smith. And I'll just add that if I'd been casting these shows, Howie would have played Snuffy, probably sounding a lot like Ernest T. Bass.

VIDEO MISSING

In Passing

The Archie Comics company has finally issued a press release on the death of its President and Co-Publisher, Richard Goldwater.

From the E-Mailbag…

Kyle Foreman writes, "I've got a two-part question for you about the probable WGA strike." I'll answer the two parts, one at a time…

First, how exactly would a prolonged strike affect this season of TV shows? Specifically the hour-long dramas that have to be aired and viewed sequentially, as opposed to 30-minute sitcoms that have very little in the way of long story arcs. I know that at any given time there are always a few episodes completed and ready to air, and a few more with finished scripts, and that there may well be a plot outline for an entire season. But when the strike comes, what happens if there's no settlement when the pre-strike material runs out?

Reruns. Or the show goes off the air until new episodes can be produced.

One or two shows may even try to soldier on with scab scripts but there usually isn't much of that. In every past WGA strike in which I've been involved, there have been rumors that some show had a hefty stockpile of completed, ready-to-film scripts, plus a crew of gifted scribes willing to cross the picket line…but the rumors always turn out to be grossly exaggerated or completely untrue.

Sometimes, there have been a couple of shows that have tried to keep up and running but the results are usually disastrous. In the '81 strike, the show I walked off taped four episodes with scab writers and wound up with three unairable episodes and one that needed extensive repair work. When we returned to our jobs, we were paid our full price to do extensive rewrites on the three, and new segments had to be taped for all four…so those episodes cost a lot more to produce than any others and also weren't as good.

On that program, something interesting (but not all that unusual) happened. The series had several producers and one of them was in charge of recruiting the scab writers. He did, promising three aspiring writers three things. One was that they would be paid the same fee that the "real writers" received. The second was that he would fiercely protect their identities so that they wouldn't get in trouble with the Guild that they hoped some day to join. And the third thing was that after the strike was over and the regular writers returned, he'd find openings to add the scabs to the staff.

He kept zero of these promises. The fee he paid them was Writers Guild scale on a "per writer" basis but it was well below what the regular staff had been receiving. (On some kinds of shows, there's an agreed-upon number called the Aggregate Minimum. Every writer must receive at least the scale payment and the total salaries for writing must equal this larger number. On an hour-long prime time show, it means that the Producer must either hire a lot of writers — so that their combined paychecks equal the A.M. — or must pay some of them well above scale. In this case, he paid each of the three scabs scale but their total compensation was about a fourth of the Aggregate Minimum.)

As for keeping the scabs' identities secret: The Producer thought he might want to join the WGA some day and he didn't want to be accused of authoring the scab scripts so he turned over their names to the Guild and even offered to provide evidence. And of course, after the strike was over, very little effort was made to get the scabs onto the regular staff. In fact, everyone blamed them for the fact that those episodes had turned out so bad, which was probably not fair.

When the WGA goes on strike, some shows can remain in production for a while on what they have in the pipeline. It runs out first on the soap operas and those are sometimes able to keep going with scab writers. In '88, I recall picketing with a lady who was one of the main writers of a popular daytime drama and the strike was true agony for her. Not only had it disrupted her life but it was destroying the lives of these characters she cared about. She had carefully planned that Fred would divorce Jessica and find true love with Heather, whom he'd gotten pregnant…and now the scabs had Heather try to murder Fred, reveal it was Pete's baby she was carrying and run off with Sidney — or whatever it was. "When we get back, it's going to take me months to get some emotional logic back into those characters," the striking writer said. She was actually considering not going back because, as she put it, her "novel had been ruined."

Most of the so-called "reality" shows will keep going. One of the strike issues this time is that most (not all) of those shows claim not to have writers and the WGA knows that's a bogus claim to try and avoid paying WGA rates. The shows call their writers "segment producers" or "continuity editors" or "researchers" or something of the sort and the Guild is seeking to stop that. But the majority of shows that have writers and admit as much will at some point stop production. I'm not sure what will happen with programs like The Tonight Show and The Late Show With David Letterman. Both shut down for a time during past strikes but eventually came back on, with admittedly less material and a lot more difficulty.

One of the many maddening parts of us going on strike is that people get mad because their favorite shows become unavailable, and they often direct that anger at the "greedy writers" instead of at the "greedy studios." Somehow, there's this feeling out there that it's a natural thing for an employer to try and squeeze every possible dime out of a project even if it means slashing the salaries of the creators of that project, and that it's ignoble for the creators to resist. So I can predict with some certainty that we'll get denounced a lot for the fact that shows stop production. Anyway, here's the second part of Kyle's question…

Secondly, what happens if a show's creator/director also writes some or all of the episodes? I know there are people that are members of both the writers and directors guilds, but how do those people usually align themselves? Do they consider themselves directors first, since that's seen to be more prestigious, or do they walk out with the writers, knowing there has to be solidarity between the guilds lest everyone get screwed? Or do they stop writing but continue to direct, essentially getting the best of the situation? I would think the leadership of the guilds would frown on such flaky behavior, but this is Hollywood after all, and I hear it can be a pretty cutthroat, "look out for number one" type of place.

A writer-director, regardless of which role he considers more important, is in a simple but awkward position when the WGA strikes: He can direct but cannot write. That's awkward because there's a bit of overlap in the jobs, just as there is with being a writer-producer or even a writer-actor. They can do one job but not the other.

There is a loophole of sorts in the WGA contract. The Guild claims jurisdiction over the writing of scripts so if you sit down and write a script during a strike, you're scabbing. But there are also these odd exclusions called "a through h" writing chores, so called because they're "numbered" a through h in the contract. They include things like cutting for time, changes in technical or stage directions, assignments of lines to other existing characters occasioned by cast changes, changes necessary for Standards and Practices (i.e., censor) clearance, etc. If a director, producer or actor makes those kinds of alterations in a script, they are not infringing on WGA turf and therefore not in violation of the picket line.

As a result, if you're directing a show or a movie during a strike, you have to make a personal choice as to where "a through h" writing leaves off and the other kind begins. It isn't just writer-directors who are in this dilemma. Often, directors who are not WGA members want to not infringe on our area and will refuse certain duties as going beyond the realm of "a through h." I don't think there's a lot of solidarity between the guilds in the sense of "we're all in this together" but you often find a professionalism that doesn't want to encroach on someone else's area at any time and especially when there's a strike.

This is not usually a big issue because on a show like My Name is Earl or CSI Scranton, you don't even bring in the actors or a director until you have a script that is deemed filmable. These shows cost millions of dollars to film so it's just plain a foolish investment to go out and start building the building without a sound blueprint. There's also the sense on some shows that the Show Runner (the writer or team that sets the direction and is creatively in charge) is a key component of the show's success. For the long term health of the series, you don't want to undermine your Show Runner(s) the way the above-referenced soap opera writer had her planning despoiled. You can do that with the soaps since they aren't supposed to have a long value in reruns and DVDs, and they're always dumping main characters and introducing new ones, anyway. But most prime-time shows are expected to endure and you don't want to screw up the core players and their relationships just to get a couple more episodes produced during what might be a short strike.

Hollywood can be a pretty cutthroat industry but you hope that people will be sane enough to not cut your throat to their own disadvantage. A lot of the things that both sides have done during times of labor unrest have made things worse for everyone, including themselves. The most optimistic thought I can muster about what's looming now is that maybe this time, all the parties will be a little smarter. But then I have to admit that if that were true, there would have been a fair deal in place months ago and it wouldn't have come down to where we are now.

The People In Your Neighborhood

So what are the demographics like where you live? Go to this site, enter your zip code and find out. I was amazed to find that 9.9% of the households in my area have incomes below the poverty level and that the median age is 38.8 years. And from the data there, I was able to calculate that 0.000046032% of residents of my area write Groo the Wanderer.

Today's Video Link

In 1960, King Features Syndicate produced three series of cartoons based on newspaper strips that they distributed — Beetle Bailey, Krazy Kat and Snuffy Smith. The remnants of the Paramount/Famous cartoon studio animated fifty six-minute cartoons of each and they were pleasant and sometimes rather funny.

Any day now, you'll be able to buy a DVD set of all fifty Beetle Bailey cartoons for a little over ten bucks. Here's the link and don't ask me why the box and advertising say you're getting "thirteen thirty-minute shows." There were fifty cartoons and the last time I looked, fifty was not divisible by thirteen…but I guess you can do anything in a cartoon.

My dear pal Howard Morris was the voice of Beetle Bailey while Allan Melvin played Sgt. Snorkel, and the two men divvied up all the other roles. Mort Walker, the creator of the inept soldier, told me once he hated Howie's voice and had really wanted Arnold Stang. I once directed Howie and Arnold in a cartoon and during the breaks, the two of them joked about all the times they'd been up for the same part.

Our clip today is the opening from one episode. I always liked the theme song.

VIDEO MISSING

Sweet Mystery of Life

Earlier this evening, I stopped in at a supermarket for a few items. There were two guys there buying chocolate.

I don't mean they were buying a couple of pieces of chocolate. I don't even mean they were buying a lot of chocolate. I mean they were buying all the chocolate. Their actions were as if someone had handed them ten thousand dollars in cash and said, "Here — get every piece of chocolate they have in that store."

The men were in their twenties, I'd guess. Each had a shopping cart and they'd cleaned out the candy aisle, grabbing every Nestlé's Crunch, every Ghirardelli bar, every Hershey's Kiss, every Toberlone product, every M. Then, I was told, they went over to the aisle with the baking supplies and took every Toll House morsel and chip and bar of baking chocolate. When I saw them, they were going to the racks at each checkout aisle and taking every chocolate bar from those displays. I would guess they had well over 800 bars or bags of chocolate in their carts and they weren't done yet. They were asking store employees if there was any more chocolate anywhere in the store. I had the feeling they were about to start scraping it off the Cocoa Krispies.

As I got into the checkout line, the clerk, the bagger and a few customers were wondering aloud just why these two fellows needed so much chocolate. Someone speculated that they were going to melt it all down to make some sort of sculpture or chocolate fountain. Someone else pointed out that they were buying bars that were full of raisins and nuts and fruit fillings. "You wouldn't use those if you were melting it all down," he theorized. Then a balding store employee came by and informed us, "I asked them what it was all for and they wouldn't tell me."

I wish I could tell you the answer but I have no idea. I was hoping someone who reads this weblog might have an idea. Why would someone buy that much chocolate?

Winners and Losers

The Biography Channel is rerunning the series, Breaking Vegas, which was a run of hour-long shows produced a few years ago for, I believe, The History Channel. Or maybe, since it rarely had Hitler in it, it was The Discovery Channel. Anyway, they did a little more than a dozen episodes that profiled people who came up with ways, legal or otherwise, to "beat the system" in the casinos.

The shows tell their story via a combination of conversations with the actual people involved and dramatizations featuring actors who portray those people. It's occasionally a little puzzling to switch between an interview with the real person and an interview of the actor playing him but for the most part, the form works. The dramatizations look like they were done on a budget of about eleven dollars, and that included catering. Someone seems to have made the decision not to bother with getting the period right…so even though an episode is set in 1961, the props and much of the background ambience is obviously current. They don't even use the right money. Because of the subject matter, there are a lot of shots of cash being counted out and fondled…and it's always in new bills that have the designs instituted in 1990. This is a minor distraction since the stories being told are often quite intriguing.

On Sunday, they're rerunning an episode called "Professor Blackjack," which is the story of Dr. Edward O. Thorp, the math prof who invented Card Counting. Any time you see a system of tracking the cards that are played in 21 and adjusting your wagers and game play based on which cards have already been played, that system is built on Doc Thorp's research and calculations. He did it with a computer but also with an awful lot of personal smarts.

In the early sixties, Thorp made a legendary assault on the casinos of Reno, Nevada. He was bankrolled by a wealthy gambler and businessman with, as they say, "mob connections." This man, who for years Thorp would only identify as "Mr. X," watched in both anger and delight as Thorp beat casino after casino…and each casino responded by ejecting him. They didn't toss him out for Card Counting. They didn't know what that was. They just knew the guy was winning at an unnatural rate and this, they could not allow.

The whole game of Blackjack changed forever that week…though not as much as some people expected. When word of Thorp's discovery got around, many in the gaming industry predicted that it was the end of Blackjack. They tried to make Card Counting more difficult and less potent by going to multiple decks but some assumed that it was just a matter of time before the Card Counters would be able to outsmart that system, and that the game itself would have to be withdrawn. This view was especially strong after Thorp published Beat the Dealer, the first book to ever explain Card Counting and how to do it. (The books is still in print and can be ordered here.)

They assumed that the casinos would be flooded by people who, like Thorp, could actually win most of the time. There were some but there were also a lot more who now thought they could…and couldn't. As it turned out, Thorp's system was the best thing that ever happened to the Blackjack business. The fact that he'd shown you could "Beat the Dealer" attracted so many more players to the game that it became more profitable than ever. For every one player who learned how to win, there were hundreds who either didn't bother to learn how to Card Count, or tried and didn't do it well, and those people lost more than enough money to make up for the occasional Ed Thorp. One prominent "insider" book on the casino business cited this as an example of something that gaming execs too often forget; that if you want people to play at all, they have to believe that the games are winnable. That means that from time to time, someone has to win.

Thorp's "Mr. X" died in 1986 and his identity finally became public knowledge. He was Manny Kimmel, one of the owners of the New York-based Kinney Parking Lot business. Historians of the comic book business will be intrigued at the connection. Kinney Parking Lots began diversifying in the late sixties and one of the businesses they acquired was one that owned Independent News (the largest distributor of magazines in the world) and DC Comics. Not long after, the corporation also bought Warner Brothers and after a few name changes and a lot more acquisitions and mergers, it all became the entity we now know as Time-Warner.

The "Professor Blackjack" episode of Breaking Vegas reruns on Sunday on The Biography Channel.