Monthly Archives: August 2009

So last evening, famed radio legend/announcer Gary Owens calls to ask if I'm going to be at the big Hanna-Barbera event tomorrow night, meaning tonight. "What big Hanna-Barbera event?" I ask. Gary explains that the Paley Center for Media (aka "The TV Museum") in Beverly Hills is having a tribute event for that studio. He's the host and he thinks I should be there. Since I always do everything Gary tells me — how can you resist that voice? — I decide to go. I subsequently find out that it's a two-part event. There's a panel discussion with former H-B employees. That's open to the public. And then after that, there's an invitation-only reunion of folks who worked for Hanna-Barbera or have otherwise been important in its history.

I haven't been invited but heck, I worked for Hanna-Barbera for many years. All those Richie Rich shows didn't write themselves…though if Bill Hanna could have figured out a way to make that happen, they would have. I decide to go anyway, starting with the open-to-all panel discussion in a small auditorium. It's quite nice. Gary hosts and interviews Willie Ito, Ken Spears, Jerry Eisenberg and Butch Hartman. Many H-B folks fill the room. In the front row alone, they have June Foray, Casey Kasem and Marvin Kaplan.

Afterwards and out in the lobby, I mingle with the aforementioned, plus others who are arriving for the party. Everyone is herded upstairs to the rooftop garden…and everyone's name is on the R.S.V.P. list but mine. A nice lady tells me that since I'm not on there, I cannot be admitted. I'm about to slink away in utter alienation when I hear a familiar voice tell her, "He's a very important person. I'll vouch for him." It's Casey Kasem and while the lady may not know who I am, she sure knows him and she knows his voice. I have the feeling he would have said that about anyone who was being kept out but, hey, it works. "Go on in," she tells me.

So in I go, and the place is crammed with even more folks I know and have worked with. I Twitter a joke about how everyone except me has gotten so much older…but the truth is that most people, some of whom I last saw in the mid-eighties, look only a wee bit older and some look the same or younger. There is much hugging and picture-taking and a lot of "So what are you up to, these days?" Stories are swapped of those who are present and those who have left us, particularly the late Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera.

Some of us had our differences back then and some us were glad to get outta there when we did. But that was then, this is now and we're all aware of having been part of something important that matters to a lot of people and no longer exists. For good or ill, and I could name plenty of items in both categories, that kind of cartoon studio ain't around no more. It was, among other differences from today, the kind that had a sense of continuity; where if they hired you, there was a good chance you might be there for many years and many shows, working with pretty much the same people. These days, everyone's a transient, hired for one series, gone when it's completed.

There's an exhibit up in the Paley Center and it'll be there for a while if you want to go see it. It's art and artifacts from H-B shows, and all the reunion-goers stop and look at it. But truth to tell, they're more interested in looking at each other. And catching up. And renewing old friendships. And I even saw two people who'd fought every day at the studio hug and act like old pals. Phone numbers and e-mail addresses are exchanged and everywhere I go, I hear lunch plans being made. Some even involve me.

Back in April, I skipped my 40 year high school reunion. I was already committed to a comic book convention in Calgary when they announced it, but I don't think I'd have gone if I had been in town. Apart from a half-dozen classmates who might not even be there, I just don't care that much about my high school days. They're long gone. So are my Hanna-Barbera days but somehow, they're a lot more important to me. So thank you, Gary. And you too, Casey. I take back every nasty thing I ever said about disc jockeys.

They say that if a woman listens to Mozart when she's pregnant, her child will grow up to be a musician. He or she may not be a great musician but the music that seeps through Ma's belly and into the uterus will somehow orient that fetus in that direction. I don't know if that's true but when my mother was carrying me, she says she watched a lot of Time for Beany. It was a very funny, addictive show.

That was the puppet version which starred (originally) Daws Butler and Stan Freberg. Later, there was an animated version which I enjoyed outside the womb. Both were produced by a clever gent named Bob Clampett, who I would later get to know well. Bob had a grand career. Before Time for Beany and the cartoon Beany & Cecil, he was one of the best directors of Warner Brothers cartoons. Some would even argue he was the best. I liked Bob and I liked darn near everything he ever did.

A few years ago, a superb DVD came out that mainly covered the animated Beany & Cecil but it was crammed full of special features about Bob's life, including materials from his vast files. The man saved everything and his son Robert Junior, in assembling the DVD, dipped into those archives and offered up some gems. I can't think of another animation-related DVD I've ever bought that gave you more for your money. Alas…maddeningly…it was not a big success. It did not spawn a whole mess of other volumes and it went out of print and became hard to find.

So now we have two happy announcements. One is that Volume Two has been assembled anyway and it'll be out next month. The other joyous news is that the Clampett Studio, run by his family, has stumbled across a few boxes of Volume One in the warehouse. So if you didn't get one, you can get one now when you order this new collection. It has my highest recommendation and I can't imagine that the new volume won't, as well.

Go here. Click. Enjoy. You will.