Yearly Archives: 2015

Well, Dame Edna was extremely Dame Edna. The show I saw last night is being advertised as the last-ever tour for comic actor Barry Humphries as his outrageous character. The last time I saw him in the same building, it was, too. At the end, last time, he took a bow as himself and that seemed to confirm it. This time, he again came out sans drag as himself again and this time, he said some things in a curtain speech that cast doubts on the assumption that we'd seen the last of Edna. So I don't know and he may not, either.

Before that, we got two hours of the colorful Grand Dame standing on stage insulting the audience. Carolyn and I had great seats in the fifth row. That's the place you want to be because you're close enough to see Edna's great expressions but Edna's gaze — "her" ability to pick out people to pick on — doesn't seem to extend past the fourth row. He/she did have harsh words for the "paupers" who bought the cheap tickets in the second balcony but they were demeaned collectively, not individually.

Edna occasionally sang a tune assisted by a pianist and four back-up performers but otherwise, it was just "her" talking and often outrageously funny. I don't usually agree with the L.A. Times drama reviewer, Charles McNulty, but I felt as he did that while the show was very amusing, there were moments when it felt much too long.

Humphries is a great improviser, which is to say that while most of the show is written, he obviously doesn't follow his own text precisely and as he interacts with the audience, things are said that couldn't possibly be planned. With such performers, you almost yearn for something to go wrong so you can see what they do with it. At one point in Act Two, Edna brings a man and a woman (strangers to each other) up on stage and proceeds to unite them in the Dame Edna Everage version of Holy Matrimony. Much of that seemed quite spontaneous and hilarious…though you do get the idea that nothing could possibly happen up there that Edna couldn't handle…and probably hasn't handled before.

The bit was supposed to be buttoned by Edna making a live phone call to the mother of the "groom" to inform her of her son's marriage but that didn't happen. At first, it seemed the problem was that the mother was in Mexico and the phone couldn't call Mexico. Then they switched to calling the gent's sister and it seemed he didn't have the number right. Then it turned out the phone simply wasn't working properly at all and the call had to be abandoned. Edna greeted each new screw-up as something to be milked for all possible humor…and even in the fifth row, you could see that Humphries was pleased he had something to play with.

At the end, Edna and her dancers threw gladiolas to the front rows and led us in the choreographed raising of them in salute to…her. We were encouraged to take photos, tweet and blog in celebration of her — I couldn't blog in the allotted time — and it was quite a lovely ending if, indeed, it was her "Final Farewell Tour." If it turns out there's another, I'm going to feel a little baited 'n' switched…but I'll probably go again then, anyway. One of these has to be his/her last time around. And anyway, Edna is still very funny.

Bob Elisberg writes that he thinks he has the two Rex Harrison clips mixed up. The first one, he says, is probably from when Harrison was originally doing My Fair Lady and the second is from his 1981 tour. They're both still fascinating to see.

I'm going out for the evening. If you need me, I'll be down at the Ahmanson Theater where, for the very last time apparently, I'll be seeing this person…

In case any of you don't know, I operate a couple of other websites, most of which I haven't updated since the Bush Administration…and we're talking George Herbert Walker here. One that I do update every few months is www.oldlarestaurants.com, which is a site for my remembrances of now-defunct restaurants in Los Angeles…although sometimes, I eulogize one of them and then it becomes funct again.

I keep track of my city's restaurant news at an excellent site called Eater LA (there are other Eaters for other cities) and they're currently running a series of pieces about this town's oldest places to dine. In connection with that, they recently did this interview with me. Just in case you can't find anything else to read on the Internet.

I'm cribbing this from my pal Bob Elisberg, who found it online. It's Rex Harrison performing "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" from My Fair Lady…twice. The first part is from an appearance he made in 1981 promoting the "farewell" tour he was then on with a revival of the show. I saw him at the Pantages in Hollywood then and…well, it was great to be able to say "I saw Rex Harrison do My Fair Lady" but neither he nor that production really sparkled as the original must have. He forgot a lot of lines, including part of the lyric in this particular song, and there was a certain lack of energy throughout the whole show.

Anyway, the most interesting part of this video is the second rendition of the song, which is from the original 1957 production. Today, it's not difficult for someone to take a camera into a theater, even unauthorized, and capture a performance. Back then, this must have been a bulky 16mm movie camera using existing light and I'd be fascinated to know who did it and how. (Actually, I think I know who did it and I'll verify that next time I run into the guy…)

One interesting point about this song. Harrison was an unusual musical comedy performer. He was not trained to be one and he did it with his own approach, which was just to start singing and let the orchestra follow him, instead of the other way around. As a result, it is said he never did any number exactly the same way as the night before. When they made the movie, its makers found it didn't work to have him pre-record his songs and then lip-sync in front of the cameras so they worked out a way he could sing them live on the set…and apparently, each take was quite different in both phrasing and physical action. Here's how he did it one time in '81 and one time before that in '57…

Here's an interview with Larry Wilmore, whose new show I like but do not yet love. Part of the problem for me is the "one topic per show" format. I haven't felt they've always had enough to say about some of the topics or enough show to service others well.

The panel discussions are too brief to get to know the panelists you've never heard of before, which means that you don't really care about what most of these folks have to say. I don't, anyway. That also means I don't care that much if in the final segment, they "Keep it 100" and give a truly honest answer to the loaded question Wilmore throws at them. I also don't see that the way to "Keep it 100" in that segment is to give a truly honest answer. It's to give the one that's the most uncomfortable to say.

Colbert is a tough act to follow and they seem to have about a third of his budget. But I like Larry a lot and I have the feeling they'll tinker with the format and make the show work better. And even if they don't, it's well worth watching as it is.

Jimmy Fallon is doing some Tonight Shows from Los Angeles and on February 4, one of his guests is Carl Reiner. I'm sure one of the topics that will be covered is that this appearance will mean that Carl Reiner has appeared as a guest on The Tonight Show with every one of its permanent hosts: Steve Allen, Jack Paar, Johnny Carson, Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien and now Fallon. I believe he's said that he was even on with Ernie Kovacs, who was the regular Monday-Tuesday host for a brief period at the end of the Steve Allen era.

I don't think there is anyone else who can claim appearances with Steve, Jack, Johnny, Jay, Conan and Jimmy. There are probably several, most of them now deceased, who were on with the first four. I'm thinking Jonathan Winters…maybe Jerry Lewis or Buddy Hackett or Tony Bennett. Was Steve Lawrence ever on with Jay? I doubt Betty White appeared with more than three of these gents, more likely two. And I don't think there's anyone who got five. Truly, Carl Reiner is the King of All Tonight Show Guests. Are you as impressed as I am?

In this series of recycling old articles, I'm not rerunning any of the countless obituaries I've run on this site except this one, which was posted on April 5, 2003. This is exactly as it ran then, complete with a Hans Blix joke that was highly topical at the time…

My private menagerie began one Spring day in 1991 when my then-secretary spotted a sadly-underfed cat foraging through my garbage pails. Tracy immediately emptied my cupboard of canned tuna, fed the kitty, then ran out to buy a supply of proper cat food. From that day forward, I fed the little charcoal-colored stray, whom we initially named Jack.

(How did we arrive at that moniker? Well, we were trying to think of what to call the cat when my phone rang, and Tracy said, "Let's name him after whoever that is who's calling." The person calling was a fine writer-comedian named Jack Burns, so that was that…for a while. We later realized we had the gender wrong, so we amended it to Jackie.)

For over twelve years, Jackie showed up once, sometimes twice a day to be fed. For about half that time, she defended her claimed turf against all encroachments, chasing off every bird, every squirrel, every animal who ventured inside the fence. There were moments there, I thought she was going to come after me. But she eventually became too secure, or perhaps too old, to be so territorial. It's like a really cheap petting zoo out there now. Jackie began allowing in possums, raccoons, rodents of all sizes…even other cats.

I never knew where Jackie lived, though I sometimes spotted her crossing a very dangerous boulevard to get here. I imagined her making the rounds, calling on other homes where they knew her by other names, checking out what they were serving. If she didn't like the menu, she'd head over here for "comfort food" — usually either Alpo canned meals or Friskies dry. For a time, I tried having her share my home, but Jackie hated being an indoor cat, and the litter box I bought for her exuded an odor that Hans Blix would quickly identify as a Weapon of Mass Destruction. So I finally gave up and returned her to the outside world where she clearly belonged.

But I took care of her. One night about eight years ago, a friend who tried petting Jackie found a huge swelling on the cat's abdomen. We boxed Jackie up — which she liked about as much as you would have enjoyed being stuffed in an old file box — and drove her over to one of those 24-hour pet hospitals on Sepulveda Boulevard, just south of Santa Monica. There are three or four there, which are said to charge a small-to-medium fortune for emergency animal care. This turned out to be true. They drained an abscess and deduced that Jackie had been spayed/neutered by a gross amateur who had done more harm than good. "If we do the rest of the repair here," they told me, "it'll cost about the price of a new car." Instead, they recommended a fine, compassionate vet who could redo the incision for a more reasonable fee. By a happy coincidence, the recommended vet turned out to be located on the same block on which I live. He was also nice enough — since this was not technically "my" cat I was bringing him — to charge me half-price, which still ran $300. (The worst part was that I had to keep Jackie inside for a few days of healing. She liked it even less, and the aroma was even worse.)

Until recently, Jackie was a happy pussycat and a regular part of my life. Every evening, and sometimes in the afternoon, she'd turn up on the back porch. She'd eat. She'd patrol the yard. She'd eat some more. She'd drink from the pool. Sometimes, she'd demand to come in, whereupon she'd walk around the kitchen for two minutes, rub her scent glands against all the cabinets, then insist on going out. Every once in a while when I let her in, she'd make a bee-line for the living room where I have exact replicas of Paul Winchell's ventriloquist dummies seated on a couch. I'd go in there and find her washing herself while sitting on Knucklehead's lap. She never much liked being held by people…but Knucklehead was okay.

By now, you probably see where this is heading. The last two weeks or so, there was no sign of Jackie at the back door. She'd occasionally missed a day or two in the past, but never a whole week. Since she was at least twelve years old, I had to accept that it was over; that I probably wouldn't see her again. Yesterday afternoon, my maid noticed a foul smell emanating from my basement, and I guess I knew what it was, but I had a brief moment of denial. I called my plumber, told him I thought I had a busted sewer line or something, and he came right over…and told me I did not have a busted sewer line. What I had was a dead cat under my house.

I checked around outside. Every possible entrance under the structure seems sealed to me, so I don't know how Jackie managed to crawl in there to die. Somehow though, she managed it.

It always strikes me as ludicrous when people try to project human thought processes onto animals; to presume they think like we do. But at the moment, it seems oddly logical that Jackie's dying instincts led her to the place where they always took good care of her. Maybe that's true, or maybe I'm just grasping for a comforting notion at a time of loss.

You know, at a moment like this, you tell yourself that it's just a cat, and that she had a longer, better life than most of them do. You tell yourself that it's silly to get emotional about it. And I'm sure that, in a day or so, I'll be over whatever sadness I'm feeling at the moment.

In the meantime, there was an ugly job to do. I'd told the plumber I could handle the removal, so he departed — but then I discovered I wasn't up to the task. It wasn't that it was a dead cat. It was that it was that dead cat. I finally paged my gardener and had him come over and put Jackie in a large trash bag out in the front courtyard. Later today, the "Dead Pet Removal" squad of the Sanitation Department will come by and haul her off.

That may sound insensitive but I look at it this way: The average life of an outdoor cat is only three years. Jackie lived four times as long just since Tracy found her. If I could last four times the average life span of an indoor human, they can stick me in a Hefty bag and haul me off the same way.

I'm starting to get a lot of phoned and e-mailed questions about how one goes to this year's Comic-Con International in San Diego (July 9-12) and before that, to WonderCon in Anaheim (April 3-5). The first thing you need to know is that though I am a Special-Type Guest at both and will be hosting my usual array of panels at each, I am not involved in the running of either convention, nor am I at all versed in how one procures hotel rooms or badges or anything of the sort. I'm actually one of the worst people you could ask about that stuff.

I can tell you that Comic-Con will sell out and there will be lots and lots of folks who simply cannot gain admission. It will also become beastly difficult to procure a hotel room at any price and even harder to get one at a bargain rate. I can further tell you that if WonderCon does sell out, it won't sell out until fairly close to the date and that it shouldn't be too hard to procure lodging in the vicinity if you need it. Beyond that, you're seeking info from the wrong guy.

There are fine websites for WonderCon and Comic-Con and if they don't have all the information you need, wait a bit. They will.

You might also want to peek at the San Diego Comic-Con Unofficial Blog, which is run by enthusiastic folks with no affiliation with either convention. Apart from the fact that they seem unaware that either con has something to do with comic books, they know a lot about the festivities and they report from an attendee perspective.

And I'll say to you all two things about the conventions that I say to folks who ask me about them…

1. Please stop complaining to me that they're crowded and/or expensive and/or difficult to get into. A lot of great things in this world are and you might as well just moan that you can't pick up a $10.00 ticket for the Super Bowl the day before it takes place and walk in without waiting in line. If you feel that way about any event, especially these conventions, just don't go. If you do go, please accept that some of that is the trade-off for the parts of the experience you're likely to enjoy.
2. If you do decide to go, you have to plan ahead. You have to keep your eye on when badges become available. If you'll need a hotel room, you have to expend some effort to get one and not at the last minute. You will need to study the programming schedule when it goes online ahead of the convention and maybe study the map and have some idea where you're going and when you're going there. It also doesn't hurt to have some idea where to park and where to eat.

If you follow these advice points, you could have a very good time at either convention. I always do and in most of the same ways you can. The halls are full of fascinating and creative people, many of them rich in history. There are great things to see and buy, great program items to attend, great conversations to be had in the aisles. And the hassle and cost of getting there can be minimized — and I'll put this in bold because it's so vital — if you plan ahead. Thank you.

Here's a nice little profile of Penn & Teller. One quibble: Teller is described as "short." He's 5'9", which I don't think is short. People who see him in person are always surprised he's not shorter because they're used to seeing him next to Penn, who is 6'6". It's kind of a magic trick in its own way.

Politifact debunks the lie that Barack Obama expects to run for a third term and notes how this story seems to get around for every two-term president.

The other variation I always see is that the president has a plan that's he ready to spring. He will create some bogus crisis, declare Martial Law, suspend the election that would have picked his successor and he would then remain in office indefinitely. Also always a lie.

Matt Lewis was one of Sarah Palin's biggest supporters, back in the day when folks like him pretended it was a Liberal Media Trap whenever she was asked a question she couldn't answer. You remember those trick "gotcha" set-ups like, "Where do you get your news?"

Anyway, he's turned on her and is apologizing for contributing to her — as he calls it — "premature deification." I think this woman has been an embarrassment to her cause for a long time, and I don't see that she was ever interested in anything but personal wealth and fame. But with folks like Lewis turning on her, I think she really is "over" as a potential office-holder in this country. Which doesn't mean she won't run for president the way Donald Trump does…as a vehicle of self-promotion.

I have a great admiration and respect for actors who've had long, long careers. Today, Stu Shostak has one of them — Tommy Cook — on his show. Tommy was a child actor who worked incessantly on radio (on shows like Blondie and The Life of Riley) and the screen. His best known role was probably Little Beaver, faithful mascot to Red Ryder. He had a stellar career in television, guest-starring on programs like The Untouchables, The Rifleman, Perry Mason, Marcus Welby, M.D., CHiPs, Hart to Hart and many others…and he was also a champion tennis player! Amazing.

Stu's Show can be heard live (almost) every Wednesday at the Stu's Show website and you can listen for free there. Webcasts start at 4 PM Pacific Time, 7 PM Eastern and other times in other climes. They run a minimum of two hours and sometimes go way longer. Given the length and breadth of Tommy Cook's career, that's pretty likely this time. In any case, shortly after a show's over, it's available for downloading from the Archives on that site. Downloads are a measly 99 cents each and you can get four shows for the price of three. There's no better bargain on the Internet.

Ten years back on this site, I posted the following…

Several years ago, I found myself at a party with several folks who were involved in the planning and construction of a forthcoming Las Vegas mega-resort. (A mega-resort is basically a hotel where you have to walk a long distance to your room.) The gent who was in charge of the food court told me — with a note of pride and achievement in his voice — that the selection of fast food outlets would include…a White Castle. I said, "Really? I always heard they refuse to go outside their area. How did you get them to agree to set one up in Vegas?" He revealed, as if mentioning a minor technicality, that the White Castle Board of Directors was as yet unaware that their wares would be in his food court.

"They cannot say no to our offer," he said in a manner that echoed Don Corleone and explained that the terms he'd be presenting were such that someone would have to be brain-dead to decline. Then he added that if by some chance the head honchos at W.C. were brain-dead or foolishly stubborn, his hotel had "certain business connections" that would and could pressure them into accepting his generous proposal. I don't think he meant Mafia or anything of the sort. I think he meant genuine, above-board business connections. I also think that at that moment, he would have bet his house and kids that he could bring the White Castle execs to their knees and force compliance.

Eight months later, the hotel opened. In its food court, in the slot that was obviously intended for a White Castle, there was a Wendy's or maybe a Fatburger. Many years later, there is still no White Castle stand in Vegas or anywhere west of St. Louis.

How things change. A White Castle opened yesterday in Vegas at, of all places, Casino Royale. This is a surprising location for this because it's one of the smaller casinos, unaffiliated with the big hotel chains. The big ones, you'd think, could threaten and bribe and outbid and get what they wanted…and probably a lot of them wanted the first Vegas White Castle. People lined up for hours yesterday to get bags o' sliders.

It may be of some interest that the other main places to get a meal at Casino Royale are an Outback Steakhouse and a Denny's…and the Denny's is reportedly the highest-grossing Denny's in America. That may have been what caused White Castle to go there.

In the meantime, the popular New York burger chain Shake Shack recently opened at the New York, New York casino and there's been a Steak n' Shake for a year or two now at South Point. All three chains once seemed confined to certain areas that did not include Las Vegas.

But I just decided that instead of White Castle, I want to talk about why the Denny's in Vegas is so overwhelmingly successful. That kinda baffles me.

I understand some of it. It's in a good location at the middle of The Strip. It's no worse — and maybe even a tad better (or at least, consistent) — than a lot of other restaurants you might choose when it's 4 AM in Vegas. The city has some of the greatest restaurants in the world, especially within walking distance of Casino Royale…but they're all shut down by Midnight. After that, you're at the mercy of casino coffee shops that are mostly on a Denny's level.

But…but during the day? You can eat a lot better in Vegas than that — and you can do it in that area for about the same price.

I understand wanting to go to White Castle or Steak n' Shake because you don't have one back home. The In-N-Out Burger near The Strip is a "must visit" for many folks from the 45 states that don't have that chain….but there are 1,593 Denny's in the United States and I did not make up that number. They're in every state. You don't have to go to Nevada to eat in one. As a person with multiple food allergies, I even understand the value of dining in a restaurant where you know the menu.

That many choose to bypass other options and go to Denny's is one of those things I don't understand. Like why, when they don't have any other options, they still go to Denny's.

Here's what I did on March 15, 2005…

About 95% of the Los Angeles Animation Community gathered today at the headquarters of the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences in North Hollywood. The occasion was the unveiling of a wall sculpture honoring Joe Barbera and the late Bill Hanna. Most of us were invited to a birthday luncheon immediately after, as Mr. Barbera will allegedly be 94 years old a week from tomorrow. (I say "allegedly" because there are a couple of animation scholars who claim that Mr. B shaved a few years from his age many years ago and is actually older now than his bio says. In the nearly thirty years since I first met him, he has never looked anywhere near any claimed age…so I have no idea.)

Mr. Barbera, who is now confined to a wheelchair, seemed pleased with the wall sculpture, which joins similar tableaus of Walter Cronkite, Steve Allen and Burns & Allen. One section of wall nearby was covered with a drape which some of us peeked under. Beneath was a very handsome likeness of Jim Henson, surrounded by Kermit, Gonzo, Rowlf and other Muppets. It was in the same style as the one of Hanna and Barbera, perhaps even by the same sculptor, Richard Ellis. No unveiling date has been announced. In fact, we weren't even supposed to know it was there.

Speeches were given by executives of the Academy and Warner Brothers Animation, a representative of Los Angeles Mayor James Hahn, and the son of Bill Hanna and the daughter of Joe Barbera. Here's a photo that I took after the unveiling. The lady at right is Bill's widow, Violet Hanna. The gent at the center is Sander Schwartz, the President of Warner Brothers Animation. Between Sander and Jerry Mouse is…uh, I'm not sure. It might be Joe's doctor, whose name I didn't get. But the black guy is an amazing fellow named Carlton Clay who takes care of Mr. Barbera, driving him around and helping him get to work and such. Carlton was the Master of Ceremonies at the birthday party that followed. (And of course, that's J.B. in the wheelchair.)

I'm trying to remember everyone I saw there so here's a partial list in no particular order: Iwao Takamoto, June Foray, Roger Mayer, Phil Roman, Jerry Eisenberg, Fred Silverman, Earl Kress, Scott Shaw!, Karl Toerge, John Kimball, Sarah Baisley, Gordon Hunt, Phil Ortiz, Scott Jeralds, Andy Heyward, Gary Conrad, Don Pitts, Willie Ito, Lucille Bliss, Jerry Beck, John Michaeli, Linda Steiner, Christopher Keenan, Amy Wagner, Heather Kenyon, Marc Seidenberg, Rich Fogel, Tom Sito, Spike Brandt, Alan Burnett, Tom Tataranowicz and an awful lot of others I'm leaving out.

And here's a photo I took of three great voice actors who were in attendance. At left is John Stephenson, who was the voice of Mr. Slate onThe Flintstones, Dr. Benton Quest on Jonny Quest, Fancy-Fancy onTop Cat and many more. In the center is Gary Owens, who voiced the title character on Space Ghost and The Blue Falcon on the Dynomutt show, and who also announced so many H-B programs. At right is Janet Waldo, who was the voice of Judy Jetson, Penelope Pitstop and many others.

The party was great, with folks telling stories about working at Hanna-Barbera, and a couple of great short films featuring H-B characters. I was more than a little amused at the end when they were passing out "gift bags" to everyone. Each contained, among other items, a copy of one of the recently-released DVDs of some H-B show, and all these grown men and women were scrambling to get one with their favorite program. One woman who found the Scooby Doo DVD in her sack quietly turned around and switched it with a Top Cat DVD in the gift bag of the man sitting next to her…without him noticing.

Anyway…a Happy Birthday to Joe Barbera. May he have 94 (or however many he's had so far) more.

Jonathan Chait on Political Correctness and how it's corrupting attempts these days to discuss important issues.

I need to remind myself that "political correctness" does not mean what it used to mean. When the term first came into the vocabulary of those around me, it was not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, how could being "correct" be a negative? Quickly though, I came to hear it being used as a negative, often by people who would — automatically — do or say the opposite of anything that was described by anyone as P.C. They reminded me of certain skeptics I've known who assume that if something is The Popular Wisdom, that alone proves it's wrong.

Now, we seem to be into a time when to not be "politically correct" is to have committed some sort of blasphemy. Just what that blasphemy involves depends on who feels their position is being blasphemed…but it always seems to result in shouting-down an idea that runs contrary to someone's beliefs. And if you don't agree with me, I'll have you killed.