As I understand it, authorities still have not determined the cause of death for Whitney Houston. One of the many sad things about all this is that so many people assume they already know. If the chatter on the web is any indication, all of America heard she was found dead and a nation shrugged and said, "Overdose."
I remember when it was announced that John Belushi had died. No cause was mentioned but everyone just nodded and thought, "Overdose." I believe some radio stations even received the wire report that said "John Belushi found dead" and went on the air and said, "John Belushi has been found dead of an apparent drug overdose." And if newsmen didn't insert the "o" word, a lot of listeners heard it anyway. A few hours later when the Associated Press or UPI had heard it from police and so reported it as news, everyone thought, "That's not news. They told us that when they first said he was dead." But most sources hadn't.
I always thought that mass deduction really said something about drug usage. It may well turn out something else killed Ms. Houston. That won't change the response much. People will just assume that whatever caused her death was caused by drugs.
This is not a warning that people shouldn't use drugs or a brag that the strongest one I ever put into my system is Omeprazole. I'm sure there are folks out there whose lives are made better and/or longer via pharmaceuticals, including even the kind that don't pass through any pharmacy. I just think users oughta keep the celebrity excesses in mind. And I guess I am a little proud that when word gets around that I've died, my friends are at least going to have to ask how it happened.
I always forget to announce projects of mine here. The fine folks at BOOM! Studios, publishers of an exciting line of comics, are bringing a new superstar to their lineup. I don't know exactly when the first issue will be out but Garfield is coming to the world of funnybooks.
The monthly series is being written by me and drawn by Gary Barker, who's currently the main artist who works with Jim Davis on the newspaper strip. There couldn't be a better choice.
What reminded me to mention this here is this interview with me that was just posted over on Comic Book Resources. In it, I say I'm starting work on the scripts for the first issue. Today, I have to complete work on the scripts for the first issue so you may not see a lot o' stuff on this site today. All I can tell you is that in #1, Garfield sleeps, eats lasagna, is mean to Odie and Nermal, says sarcastic things and gets in and out of trouble. I figure we'll kick things off with a real change of pace.
Back in this item, we brought you an episode of Sam and Friends, the first TV show from Jim Henson and the Muppets, done on a local station in Washington, D.C. from 1955-1961. Here on another episode, Sam and his friends mime to yet another popular record by the wickedly witty Stan Freberg…
I'm the guest all month long on Radio Rashy, the weekly podcast hosted by Paul Dini, Misty Lee and Rashy. Rashy, the most believable of the three, is a sock monkey who likes to get into trouble…and in a way, aren't we all? Here's a link to this week's installment, which starts with an anecdote about Ricardo Montalban and includes tales of the late, great Daws Butler.
This restaurant, situated in the corner of a shopping mall on Jefferson Boulevard in Culver City — was unrelated to the chain of Ponderosa Steak Houses that now dot the nation. This one was a huge "all you can eat" emporium that my friends and I loved in the seventies and eighties. It was set up cafeteria-style with a large salad bar and then a carving station where several chefs would dispense about six different entrees including prime rib, baked ham, roast turkey and corned beef, and as many side dishes. The food was pretty decent but of course, the best part was that you could go back for more and more and more, and you could try everything.
What fascinated me about the place was that while the outside advertising emphasized how you could stuff yourself on meat for a modest price, once you were inside, all efforts were devoted to getting you to eat the cheap foods. Servers would place baskets of very fine, thick-sliced sourdough bread on your table and tell you how yummy it was. They were also apparently instructed to never take away a dirty plate until you’d eaten every possible scrap of edible material on it. If you tried to get them to remove a plate with one more bite on it, they’d look at you like you couldn’t possibly be serious and ask, "But…aren’t you going to eat that?"
In the meantime, you had to pass the salad bar to get to where they carved the prime rib and if you hadn’t already put a lot of lettuce on your plate, the carvers would look at you in astonishment and mutter, "No salad?" Like they were very concerned you get a balanced diet. As you went back for your third or fourth helping, the slices would get thinner and they’d hurriedly toss a huge scoop of rice or mashed potatoes on your plate even before you asked for a side dish.
Once, I talked to the manager about booking a banquet there for C.A.P.S., the cartoonist group of which I was then president. He told me they loved private parties and explained to me that private parties were not on an "all you can eat" basis. The way it worked, when our group was ready to dine, they’d close off the serving line to everyone but us. We could then go through and each of us could have our pick on any of their entrees, which would be carved for us in portions larger than the usual serving size for the Ponderosa.
After I left, I realized two things. One was that our members would complain about the cost per plate, which was higher than the "all you can eat" price to eat the same food if you were dining in the next room. Also, I realized that we’d become part of the restaurant’s efforts to get their patrons to not go back for more food. It would take our group at least twenty minutes to go through that serving line, during which all the other folks dining in the restaurant wouldn’t be able to get seconds or thirds or ninths. I think that was the main reason they liked private parties.
Last weekend, I flew to and fro San Francisco and noticed something I'd never seen before. When you get off the plane and head for that room where your baggage takes a long, long time to tumble down a conveyor belt, you usually pass some limo drivers who are there to meet arriving passengers. They stand there holding up little signs on which they've chalked their passenger's name. But when I got to S.F., I saw five limo drivers and they were all holding up iPads, each of which had an arrivee's name displayed in a handsome font. And sure enough, there's even an app for that.
I spent much of yesterday out at the Hollywood Show (formerly the Hollywood Collectors Show) in Burbank. These are two-day weekend affairs where the great, the near-great and the once-were-great sit behind tables and sell autographs and photos and such, and their fans have the opportunity to buy those things and meet their faves. The folks wandering the aisles are often as interesting. I spent time yesterday with Chuck McCann and with Shelley Berman, neither of whom were there as vendors.
Among those who were: Valerie Harper, Billy Dee Williams, Martin Landau, Peter Lupus, Cassandra "Elvira" Peterson, Traci Lords, David L. Lander, Lainie Kazan, Piper Laurie, Sybil Danning and the Green Hornet himself, Van Williams. The whole list can be viewed at the website I'll link to in the last paragraph. There can be a discomfort if you want to say hello to a star (or even make eye contact) without purchasing a $25 signed photo but for the most part, I find these a lot of fun. The show usually has at least one Cast Reunion and this time, it was Starsky & Hutch, with appearances by David Soul, Paul Michael Glaser, Antonio Fargas and replicas of the famed Gran Torino. The lines were rather long and I think even the cars were signing pictures.
Most of all, there are nice encounters like the one I'm about to describe. My friend Shelly Goldstein, who is often mentioned here, is a huge fan of The Monkees and especially of Davy Jones, who was there. She stood in line maybe ten minutes to get a signed pic and to chat with him for a few moments…and when she got her few moments, she didn't talk to him about The Monkees. She mentioned his work as a lad in the musical, Oliver!
Here is a tip for those of you who are ever nervous about meeting celebrities. Anyone who's at all famous has certain comments and questions that they hear all the time. Stan Laurel, whose photo is never far on this blog, was in retirement said to have been very tolerant and polite as every single person who met him started their conversation by asking how he and Oliver Hardy teamed up. There are folks in the entertainment industry who are proud to have done many things but distressed that most people only seem to know of (or care about) one. I remember the first time I met Robert Morse, there was a look of delighted surprise when I started talking to him about something other than How to Succeed In Business Without Really Trying. The same thing happened when I met Vincent Price and didn't immediately engage him on the subject of horror movies or when I met Don Adams and asked him not about Get Smart but about his old stand-up act.
Anyway, I was present and a witness when Shelly started asking Davy about Oliver! I could not only see but feel his face light up and I heard as he launched into a little a cappella rendition of "As Long as (S)he Needs Me," singing for her not just a few bars but the entire song. He was that happy someone wasn't asking him how Micky Dolenz was or which episode was his favorite.
Shelly was thrilled then and an hour or so later, she was thrilled again. We were walking by his table and Mr. Jones remembered/recognized her and ran over to give her a free CD (one of the ones he was otherwise selling for $25) because it had a medley of songs from Oliver! Short of offering free sexual favors, as I once saw a former Playboy Playmate do with a devout male admirer, that's about as nice as I've ever seen a celebrity be to a fan. Shelly is a professional writer and performer who has fans of her own…but in that context, in relation to Davy Jones, she was a fan and she was quite overwhelmed by his kindness.
I always witness a nice moment or two like that at one of these shows. My friend Jewel Shepard had many admirers around her, buying pictures and just being thrilled to meet someone they knew from movies and photos. She made some money she needs for medical treatments. Her fans got to meet (and help) someone they'd always wanted to meet. Works for me.
The Hollywood Show continues today, though by the time you could read this and get there, most of the celebs will be packing to leave. The next one of these is April 20 and 21 and I'll try to give you a head's up when it's approaching.
This arguably needs a Spoiler Alert. It's the last 25 seconds of "The Incredible Jewel Robbery," a half-hour episode of an anthology show called General Electric Theater. It was broadcast on March 8, 1959 on CBS and it represents the last real time the main three Marx Brothers appeared together on-screen. Incredibly, it was also the only time they all appeared together on any screen since A Night in Casablanca in 1946. In the interim years, there were a couple of projects in which all appeared (Love Happy, The Story of Mankind) but not in the same scenes.
The 1959 show was a funny caper film done almost completely in pantomime and starring Harpo and Chico as hapless crooks who disguise themselves as cops. Groucho, entering in the clip below for a surprise cameo, had the only line. (The man you'll see accusing them is, by the way, Benny Rubin who had a habit of appearing with great comedians and also being one himself.)
Shortly after this, the three brothers began filming on a TV pilot called Deputy Seraph in which they played angels. Halfway through shooting, production was halted because Chico was unable to perform. He had arteriosclerosis as was sadly evident in the few TV appearances he made before passing away on October 11, 1961. By that time, everyone had long since given up on Deputy Seraph. So since it never aired, these are the final moments of the Brothers Marx on-screen…
Sad to hear of the death of singer Whitney Houston. I must admit that I don't know much more about her other than that she had a stormy life due to drug use and other mistakes but I sure enjoyed her singing.
I hope this is not an inappropriate time 'n' place to say this but something has always bothered me a bit about tributes to singers…and I guess we're about to see and hear many for Ms. Houston. To me, a tribute honors the person's work. I don't see how that is done when someone else sings the songs for which that singer was known.
If Whitney Houston had written the songs in question, that would be a performance of her work. If someone else comes out and sings "The Greatest Love of All," that's kind of offering a Whitney Houston presentation without any Whitney Houston in it. Imagine if when Rex Harrison died, someone came out and said, "To honor the fine work Mr. Harrison did, I will now play Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady."
Maybe this is trivial but I hope that when people honor her memory, it's done by presenting her work, not by proving someone else can sing the same songs well.
I've received quite a few e-mails from folks asking me to comment on or promote two reader-initiated campaigns to right injustices in the comic book industry. One is a call to boycott the upcoming motion picture of The Avengers — and any other Marvel movie involving a character that was created or co-created by Jack Kirby — until Marvel comes across with a royalty arrangement for his children and a proper creator credit for Jack. The other relates to a sad tale involving a very nice, sad man named Gary Friedrich.
I don't really have much to say about the Kirby matter. Everyone knows that I think Jack should have shared in the success of the zillion-dollar properties that would not exist if not for him and that he wanted to be able to leave that kind of money to his kids. In fact, just about everyone I know, including a lot of folks who've worked at Marvel, thinks that. The family lost the first round of a recent legal action and an appeal has been filed. It'll be at least a year before we find out if there will be further rounds. If there are, I may be a witness so I don't feel free to go on at length about that case.
Gary Friedrich was responsible for the Marvel character, The Ghost Rider. That comic has been made into a very profitable movie with a sequel about to come out but Gary received nothing. Advised by attorneys that Marvel's acquisition of the property could be challenged, he filed a lawsuit, lost his first round and is now in the horrifying position of having to pay Marvel money ($17,000) that he does not have.
Gary Friedrich
I know little about the merits of Gary's legal case but I feel sorry for the guy. He's a recovering (maybe I should say "recovered") alcoholic whose medical problems have severely limited his abilities to write or do any kind of decent-paying work. To put it in the most dignified way I can, he is needy. A few years ago, he was voted the Bill Finger Award, which I administer and which is given to a writer who like its namesake, did not receive the proper amount of recognition and/or financial reward in the industry. Gary certainly qualified. We also gave it to him because with the award comes a free trip to the Comic-Con International in San Diego. Gary could never have attended if he'd had to pay his way there and he badly needed the small amounts of money he could make at the con by selling old scripts and autographs. Those small amounts are now among the $17,000 that is being demanded of him.
Though I am considered by some an expert on this industry, there are many things I do not quite understand about it. One of them is the occasional adversarial position that some in power choose to take against people of limited means who at one point handed their company a property worth millions. When I first began working in the field, I was stunned by how a few folks at DC Comics — this is in the early seventies — had what I can only describe as an anger at Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster and an urge to punish them. Over and over, I was reminded of the scene in Oliver Twist where the title character dares to ask for more gruel ("More?") and Bumble and Limbkins immediately concur that he should be hung for the sheer crime of asking.
The analogy is not precise. Oliver, for instance, had not made Bumble and Limbkins very wealthy. They did not derive any part of their livelihoods from his creations. Still, there was that outrage that he was unwilling to starve in silence.
As I said, I do not understand that way of thinking. Didn't then, don't now, doubt I ever will. It makes a wee bit of sense from a business/legal standpoint, although even there it would seem to make more to have a mature, inarguable agreement with those who birthed your company's most valuable assets. Every single lawyer who has ever worked for a comic book company wishes his or her predecessors had done things differently; that the paperwork that secured the firm's claim to its characters was not so inadequate, sloppy, drafted with no vision of how the laws might change…or in many cases, lost or non-existent in the first place.
At times, they deal with this by making new, non-contentious agreements with the creators or their families, thereby creating a win-win situation for all parties. There is an aspect of this that goes to sheer human decency but even for those who see no value in that silly way of thinking, it's just good business. It removes any dark clouds over a property that some may shun because they feel it was built on Indian Land. It makes others who work for you more comfortable building on that land. It brings the creators into the "family" where perhaps they can make further contributions of value, creatively and/or promotionally. It removes all questions of ownership, some of which scare off partnerships and licensing. It sets a good example for current talent about how your outfit treats and honors those who contribute to its successes. And it's usually much, much cheaper for the company than fighting the folks you should be honoring in your retrospectives. Why spend a million bucks on lawyers to crush someone who'll settle for a third of that? It makes no sense to try and crush those people at all but especially not when it's not cost-effective.
There are those who are or have been in positions of power in the comic book industry who are proud to have done things the humane and smart way. I suppose I do and don't understand why there's any other approach. Perhaps some day in the future, I'll write a piece on why I believe these disputes ever reach the stage of filings and depositions when doing right by the Gary Friedrichs would almost always be less costly in terms of time, company image and plain ol' cash.
I have not spoken to Gary. It's difficult to talk to him because he's almost deaf and I wouldn't know what to say to him anyway. Obviously, I hope he is not destroyed by this. Obviously, I think Marvel would be wise and heroic not only to not demand money from him but to give the guy money as well as a creator credit. I don't have a dollar figure in mind but I'll bet there's an amount that would be statistically microscopic compared to what Ghost Rider has already grossed but which would allow Gary and his family to live in comfort and dignity.
Many of Gary's fans and friends have been sending him donations and you can do that on this page. If you have ever enjoyed his work on Ghost Rider or any of the many comics he wrote back in the sixties and seventies, here's a chance to say thanks and also to play super-hero via PayPal.
