Lewis Black has a new special on the History Channel (of all places) and it begins airing tonight. It's called Surviving the Holidays with Lewis Black. I have no idea if it's any good but hey, it's Lewis Black. Here's the schedule on when it airs.
Monthly Archives: November 2009
Recommended Reading
Matt Taibbi on the way the media treats Sarah Palin…and also the way Sarah Palin treats the media. I don't disagree with anything he writes but I think he's not giving enough weight to this: Most people who aren't smitten with her approach her every media appearance with an attitude of "Well, let's see what stupid thing she's going to say this time." That's not a Democratic/Republican thing. An awful lot of folks do that with Joe Biden, too. It's just that in the past, the gaffes have been the story. And the part that wasn't about her clumsiness with facts was all about her tabloidesque family problems. She hasn't given the media much of anything else to write about.
Today's Video Link
Here's a comedy classic. Red Skelton with the short version of the "Guzzler's Gin" routine that made him famous. This is from the 1945 movie, The Ziegfeld Follies and boy, is it smoooooth…
Go Read It!
A brief interview with Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks. Several friends of mine who know one or both say they will soon head into a recording studio somewhere to do another 2000 Year Old Man album. (By now, the 2000 Year Old Man will be more like 2050, though he doesn't look a day over 2000.)
Nobody's Home
Jay Huber told me about this. It's a book called Empty L.A., which consists of photos of Los Angeles with no people in it. A special effects technican named Matt Logue is responsible…and I'm guessing what he did was to shoot multiple photos of busy areas, then use Photoshop or something of the sort to combine unpopulated segments of many pics. However he did it, the result is mesmerizing, especially if you're familiar with these locations in their usual, human-filled states. Take a look at the preview and maybe order a copy.
A Ken Krueger Story
Here's an excerpt from an article I wrote some time ago. It was about the 1973 San Diego Comic Con (or whatever they then called the event we now know as the Comic-Con International)…
…the moment I recall most vividly occurred one afternoon in the dealer's room. A young man, maybe fifteen years of age, strolled up to a table of rare comics, scooped up about $500 worth and made a fervent dash for the exit. The fellow tending the display yelled, "Stop that kid! He's a rip-off artist!"
(A gracious touch, I thought. Wouldn't want to hurt the kid's feelings by calling him a thief or a robber, would we? "Rip-off artist" allowed him to retain some dignity…made it sound like he had some useful, aesthetic skill.)
The thief — er, the rip-off artist tore through the hall like Fran Tarkenton charging for the goalposts. Several con-goers tried to grab him but he bobbed and weaved and eluded their grasps. Nevertheless, when he reached the door, three guys were waiting and he was quickly taken into custody.
Ken Krueger, the con's treasurer (and a charter committee member and an important figure in comics 'n' science-fiction fandom) immediately took charge. Someone asked, "What should we do with him?" and Ken instantly replied, "Call the police."
That may seem like the most obvious answer in the world but at that moment, it hadn't occurred to anyone but Ken. It hadn't occurred to the rip-off artist/thief, either. He was incredulous that the San Diego Police Department might even be interested in a theft of comic books. He stammered, "Police?" as if he'd thought the worst that could happen to him was being drummed out of the Merry Marvel Marching Society.
The sudden intrusion of the Real World into our little Pretend Fandom World, I found fascinating. Had the kid attempted to pilfer $500 in cash or $500 worth of records or clothes or elbow macaroni, there would have been no question. That would have been stealing.
But filching a stack of Action Comics — even a stack of Action Comics for which someone would pay $500 in legal tender — somehow struck both the crook and a few of his captors as kind of a toy crime. It was as if your schoolyard playmate took your Fig Newtons. You wouldn't call the police over that. You'd look like a bad sport for even telling the teacher.
Ken was, however, one of the few adults on the premises — chronologically, if not emotionally. When an onlooker suggested that this could be handled, sans gendarmes, Ken said, "No. This is a crime and it has to be treated as a crime." The police came, they took the lad away and I never heard for sure what happened after that. The rumor was he got some sort of suspended sentence, but it really didn't matter, except probably to him.
What mattered back in the dealer's room that day was (a) stolen comics had been recovered and (b) the thief had been caught and handed over to the authorities. A dealer-friend of mine reacted like he'd just seen one of the great social injustices of the century suddenly righted.
"I can't believe it," he said around 37 times. "Every con where I sell stuff, someone rips off something. The security always stinks and even on those rare occasions when they catch the guy, no one ever does anything.
"I did one con where these two kids were working in teams, sneaking stuff out, hiding it outside, then coming back in to get more. Merchandise was disappearing all day but no one knew who was doing it. Finally, they got so brazen that they got caught…but the con didn't want to get mixed up in filing charges, risking lawsuits or something. They just told the kids, 'You're barred forever from our cons' and let them go. The thieves didn't even return most of the stuff they'd stolen.
"The con organizers act like you're just supposed to accept a certain amount of loss, like it's normal. At one con, I complained to the guy in charge and you know what his answer was? 'Raise your prices.' That was his solution — I should charge more for what I sell to make back the money I lose when I get ripped-off. Maybe if more conventions call the cops, it'll make a difference."
I don't know that it did or didn't…but I do know that, if you do it today at almost any convention, police will be called and you will be prosecuted. That was just the first time anyone heard of it happening. I know that a lot of sellers appreciated what Ken Krueger did that day.
This was far from the greatest contribution Ken made to the con or to the world of comic collecting. I just thought it was a good example of how he operated…a kid at heart but an adult whenever one was required.
Ken Krueger, R.I.P.
Recently, much attention was given to the passing of Shel Dorf, who was described as the founder of the Comic-Con International. Not to take anything away from Shel but attention must be paid to another person who, even if he never claimed that title, was as vital to the creation of that convention as Shel or anyone else. Let me say this very clearly in a standalone sentence…
Ken Krueger was as much responsible for the creation of the Comic-Con International as anyone else, alive or dead.
Sadly, Ken is now in the latter category. He passed away last night from a heart attack…and I regret that I don't know his age, but I'm guessing somewhere in his eighties. Ken had been around long enough to have attended the very first science-fiction convention in 1939 and to be a member of the exalted "First Fandom."
His experience with s-f conventions was one of many things he brought to the nascent Comic-Con when he signed on in 1970 as its first chairperson. Another was his lifelong love of comics and fantasy. Professionally, Ken operated a string of bookstores throughout this life and also dabbled in distribution and publishing. As a publisher, he gave many talented artists their first in-print experience, including Dave Stevens, Scott Shaw!, Greg Bear and Jim Valentino. (He was the Best Man at Valentino's wedding and an obvious father figure to Jim and others who came up through the San Diego fan community.)
But perhaps his greatest contribution to the early cons in San Diego was that he was the Grown-Up. The majority of those on the original convention committee were kids in need of adult supervision…someone with some experience in handling business matters. Most were too young to even sign the hotel contract so Shel Dorf and Ken did that. At the early cons, he was the go-to guy for any problem, any crisis, any decision. He didn't get or seek the attention for all he did but believe me: He did a lot. And then, as he saw others rising to the responsibilities, he quietly stepped aside and became, for the most part, a happy attendee.
As health problems permitted, he attended the con. He was there this past July for the 40th anniversary celebration…in a wheelchair but, damn it, he was there. We had a nice conversation, mainly about how much the con had grown. Ken was like a proud parent, and at the same time modest about how much he'd contributed.
I have a story about Ken that I'll post here later because I want to get this up on the web. Ken never got the credit he deserved in life. Maybe we can get him some now…better late than never.
Recommended Reading
Ronald Brownstein takes us through the cost-control elements in the current version of the Senate's Health Care Reform bill. And yes, I know very few people debating this bill from either side seem particularly interested in what's actually in it. But in case you do, there you are.
Today's Video Link
As I've mentioned here, Frank Welker is the current voice of Garfield the Cat, replacing our dear friend Lorenzo Music, who passed away in 2001. Lorenzo was so identified with the role that a lot of people didn't know he wasn't the first voice of the character. When Garfield was first animated, it was for a short segment in a special on newspaper comic strips, and the character's voice was supplied by an actor and radio personality in San Francisco named Scott Beach. Soon after, the first animated Garfield special was sold and that's when the character's creator, Jim Davis, decided he wanted a different voice. They auditioned every actor in L.A. about nine times before they found Lorenzo.
Between the time Lorenzo died and the time Frank got the gig, a few other actors did Garfield for little-seen commercials and public service announcements…and of course, Bill Murray spoke for The Cat in the live-action Garfield movies. But the lasagna-guzzling feline had one more voice during the time Lorenzo was still voicing the character.
For a number of years, Garfield adorned the labels of Alpo Cat Food and did the commercials, and Lorenzo did the voice for those commercials. But in the midst of those campaigns, there was one batch that somehow triggered a money dispute. Lorenzo wanted a certain amount. The sponsor wanted to pay a different amount. You can guess which was higher.
98% of the time in show business, one side comes down enough and the other side goes up enough to make the deal. This time was in the 2% and another actor wound up supplying the voice, at least when the commercials debuted. I think Lorenzo may have later redubbed the voice after everything finally got settled…but this clip has the fill-in voice, which you may recognize…
Wanna guess who it is? It's someone rather famous…someone you've probably seen and heard. See if you can figure it out. Whether you can or can't, you'll want to click here to get the answer.
Recommended Reading
I like most of what Matt Taibbi has to say about Sarah Palin and her book.
Zeroing In
My pal Jim Brochu is in New York, in previews for the off-Broadway opening of his one-man show, Zero Hour. If you're in the vicinity, you will enjoy spending some time with a man who lovingly (but not uncritically) re-creates the all-encompassing experience that was Zero Mostel. Here's a little profile of Jim that recounts his own encounters with the late and vast Mr. Mostel.
From the E-Mailbag…
A fellow who signs his e-mails "youngblood" wants to know…
Any idea why a comedian is referred to as a "top banana?" Does it have anything to do with slipping on banana peels?
Nope. It dates back to an old burlesque sketch that was performed by just about every funny person who got onto those stages. You have three comedians on stage. One is standing there with two bananas. The other two enter and one says, "What do you have there?" Comic #1 says, "I have three bananas."
Comic #2 says, "I beg your pardon, kind sir, but as any fool can plainly see, you have but two bananas there." (I'm giving you the quickie version of this. Most acts would draw this all out for five or ten minutes.)
"No," says Comic #1. "I have three bananas here. Watch and I'll demonstrate." He holds up one banana and announces, "One banana have I." He then holds up the second banana and says, "Two bananas have I." He then concludes, "One banana and two bananas make three bananas!"
Comic #2 says, "Let me see those" and snatches them away from him. He then does the same math: "One banana have I…two bananas have I…one banana and two bananas makes three bananas. By gosh, he's right."
Then Comic #3 tries it and gets the same answer. They go back and forth for a while, all of them amazed that what the naked eye perceives as two bananas is actually three bananas, at least if you count them that way. Finally, Comic #2 takes one of the bananas, Comic #3 takes the other and they start to walk off stage, eating them. Comic #1 yells after them, "Hey, what about me?"
And they yell back at him, "You eat the third banana!" Blackout. End of skit.
This routine was done so often that folks began to refer to the lead comic as the First Banana, the secondary comic as the Second Banana and so on. Those were the terms used in vaudeville and burlesque. In the fifties, when Johnny Mercer sat down to write a song for the proposed musical starring Phil Silvers, he started on a tune to be called "First Banana," then decided that "Top Banana" made for a better lyric. So he changed it and it caught on…and that's how the term came to be.
I should have brought up the topic of this movie earlier in the week because Turner Classic Movies aired it on Wednesday night. But if you're dying to see it, fear not. They're running it again in early January. And if you want to see the title song, you can view a clip of it right now, right here.
A Helpful Thanksgiving Travel Tip
The Transportation Security Administration will not let you on the plane with cranberry sauce.
Today's Video Link
In 1951, the great Phil Silvers starred on Broadway in a musical comedy called Top Banana. It was all about a high-pressure comedian who made the shift from vaudeville to the (then) new medium of television. At the time, Milton Berle was the most prominent star who'd made that transition…and there were aspects of the character that certainly seemed to be based on Uncle Miltie. When Berle found out about the project, he insisted on investing in it, and thereafter did little to discourage the notion that it was based on him, even though the role Silvers played was a pretty unpleasant guy.
Hy Kraft wrote the book and the legendary Johnny Mercer penned the songs. Rose Marie and Jack Albertson were in the cast and the whole thing got pretty good reviews…so good that many were surprised it didn't do more business. It ran a little less than a year in New York and then toured to modest success. It has rarely been revived since then. No one has ever been interested in seeing it if it doesn't have Phil Silvers in it. (There have been occasional rumors that it will be resurrected with Nathan Lane in the lead but there are rumors of every show that ever played Broadway being revived with Nathan Lane in the lead. Me, I'm waiting to see him play Annie…and don't think he won't.)
All the major movie studios passed on committing Top Banana to film. Then, when the touring version was in Los Angeles, Silvers was approached directly by producer Alfred Zugsmith, who was then (and excepting the later Touch of Evil, still is) known primarily for cheapo horror and sex films. Zugsmith proposed a deal to, in essence, film the touring show with most of the same cast, sets, costumes, arrangements, etc. The idea was to do it low-budget and quick in 3-D and rush the film to market while there was still a big demand out there for 3-D movies. Silvers and his producers agreed and Top Banana was photographed in just a few weeks, essentially by restaging the Broadway show in a movie studio and pointing cameras at it.
But as fast as they got it done, it wasn't fast enough. The film was shot in July of '53 but by September when editing was completed, its tentative distributor dropped it, citing a plunging marketplace for 3-D movies. Zugsmith and his crew eventually got a distribution deal the following February for a "flat" version that seemed cheap, even for an Alfred Zugsmith movie. They'd been counting on the three-dimensional gimmick to make up for the shoddy production values…and now they were all there on the screen in two dimensions. A murky conversion from the 3-D negatives didn't help, either.
Mr. Silvers was embarrassed by the film at the time and he'd be really humiliated by the versions around today which are blurry and missing around fifteen minutes. The movie was never exhibited in 3-D and apparently never will be, as no 3-D print is known to exist. But a copy of the trailer in that format has survived and has been restored…and guess what today's video link is! If you have a pair of red/green 3-D glasses around, run and get 'em 'cause here it is…
Today's Political Rant
This whole little outrage over Barack Obama bowing to Japan's Emperor Akihito is another one of those "whatever he does is a scandal" phony controversies. Even viewers of Fox News and self-identified Republicans don't think it's inappropriate for our president to do that. Right-wing bloggers called it "treasonous," which to me is one of those frequent (these days) cases of defining an important word down to the point of rendering it meaningless. If you call a respectful greeting to a foreign leader "treason," what word would you use if someone handed that foreign leader our nuclear codes and, say, the actual Liberty Bell?