Monthly Archives: October 2018

• On the other hand, maybe I should go get some sleep. The Dodgers may need me to start tomorrow.

• I'm tuning in to watch the Dodgers playing the Red Sox. I find that baseball games don't really get interesting until you get past the seventeenth inning.

You'll love this. Last October 18, there was a retirement party for Caroll Spinney, who as we all know is ending his long run as Oscar and Big Bird on Sesame Street. A mob of past performers from that show turned out to serenade him.

This is a Facebook embed which means that in some browsers, you have to click on a little "X" to turn on the audio. And while you're clicking down there, you'll want to take this full-screen on your computer monitor.

• The trouble with Trump saying "We want all sides to come together in peace and harmony" is that the only way he could ever see that happening is for everyone to support Donald J. Trump and every single thing he does.

We have here an article and a video about one of my favorite restaurants in Los Angeles — a place known variously as Philippe the Original, Philippe's the Original or just Philippe's. In the video below, you'll see the owners using the three names interchangeably so I figure I can, too.

The article is from Eater L.A. It and the video both tell the legend about how its original owner, Philippe Mathieu, accidentally invented its signature item — the French Dip sandwich — by unintentionally dropping a French roll into a pan of drippings.

I am suspicious of these stories of how someone accidentally spilled molten chocolate on ice cream and invented the Hot Fudge Sundae; how someone accidentally dropped chopped meat on a roll and invented the Philly Steak Sandwich; how someone accidentally spilled mayonnaise on floor sweepings and invented cole slaw, etc. Couldn't someone have said, "Hey, I'll bet this sandwich would taste better if I dipped the roll in the pan drippings"? Why is it always an accident?

However they came to be, the sandwiches at Philippe's are great and they aren't great because of exotic spices or various ingredients used to enhance the meat. It's just good meat on a good roll with good pan drippings. The beef is the star and it's probably what you should try the first time you go there but I also love the lamb sandwich and the turkey. Read the article. Watch the video. Next time you're in downtown L.A. at the right hour, go eat a sandwich there. (For a time long before I was born, they were open 24 hours. Wish they still were. I'd go there at all hours.)

Oh — and you can find out more about the place and take a virtual tour at the Philippe's website. Here's the video…

So they've arrested a suspect in the "Let's mail a pipe bomb to someone Trump hates" movement. It turns out to be a guy who's a long-time registered Republican whose van is covered with pro-Trump stickers and signs. I haven't looked at any right-wing sites since I read this news but I'll bet there are already some insisting — with of course not a sliver of evidence — that this guy is a secret Democratic operative who was set up to appear to be a Trump supporter doing this. In the world today, anything that happens that you don't like is a False Flag and/or Fake News.

But you know what I think? I think we oughta all heed the cautionary words of Matt Taibbi who reminded us a day or so ago that acts of terrorism are often misreported at first. There's a history of the wrong person being accused and the facts later telling a somewhat different story. Cable news needs immediate tune-ins so they can't afford to be prudent and patient about this kind of thing. But we can.

James Arnold Taylor is one of the most in-demand voiceover actors working these days and one of his frequent gigs is as the voice of Fred Flintstone. In this video, he lets us peek in as he records a few lines for a commercial in his home studios. Back when Fred was voiced by Alan Reed or Henry Corden, those gents had to drive to a studio somewhere to record their lines and the director would usually be there, along with any other actors. These days, a lot of voice work is done this way in a home studio.

When I'm voice directing a whole show, I always try to gather the performers all in the same studio at the same time so they can see other and feel connected to each other and react to each other. It has been my experience that most actors prefer it that way…or would if there wasn't the possibility that in the time it takes to do one job that way, they could do five jobs the way James does the one in this video. Five jobs are almost always more lucrative than one job. But I'm talking here about longer episodes with more than a few lines. For a few lines, the way it's done here is fine…and often, the client prefers it this way so their director can do his or her job by phone and not have to fly to where the talent is.

James is a pro and as you'll see, he isn't hurrying to end this session so he can move on to something else. He's making sure the client has what they need. And finally, note also that he's doing most of Fred's gestures, throwing his whole body into the effort. It's not about the imitating. It's about acting…

Often on this blog, I plug the appearances of my pal Frank Ferrante, who tours America with his show in which he portrays Julius Henry Marx, otherwise known as Groucho. One reason I do this is that every time he appears somewhere, I get at least one message like this one from my pal Roger Stern, who is one of the better comic book writer-editors around…

Friday, October 5th, Carmela and I — and our friend Jeff Hetzel — piled into my car and drove for three and half hours to reach Fredonia, New York. There we sat in the front row of the Fredonia Opera House, where we enjoyed — most thoroughly — An Evening with Groucho. It was everything you said and more.

I knew from your past blog postings that Frank Ferrante would first come on stage as himself and start the show by talking about Mr. Marx. But watching him apply the greasepaint and transform into Groucho before my eyes was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

For the next couple of hours, he looked like Groucho, he talked and sang like Groucho, and he moved like Groucho in his prime. The height of the stage in the Opera House necessitated feats of Marxian acrobatics as he scrambled down — and back up again — for the half-dozen or so times he came down into the house to interact with the audience. (During the intermission, Carmela overheard one of the Fredonian college students seated in the row behind us say, "I'm exhausted just watching him do that!")

And the audience interaction was just part of the improvisation. Groucho — for he truly was Groucho at that point — had some amazing interactions with his pianist Alex Rybeck.

At one point, Groucho leapt onto the Baby Grand Piano that Alex was playing, and it turned out that someone had neglected to lock the piano's wheels. There ensued an hilarious tug-of-war with the piano between Groucho and Alex, that ended with the piano far to the back of the stage. Groucho then stood to one side and grinned to the audience, "Let's see how long it takes him to wrestle it back into place."

Another time, Groucho was finishing a lovely rendition of "Everyone Says I Love You," which was supposed to end with Alex blowing on a duck call. Except that Alex had inadvertently gotten the duck call turned around, so that nothing came out. Groucho stopped, looked at his accompanist and sighed, "There were just three times when you have to be funny." Then, as Alex looked at the duck call, Groucho continued, "It has only two ends. You had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right." (When we spoke with Alex after the show, he confirmed that both bits had been unplanned.)

Let's see…there was comedy, singing, dancing, improvisation…oh, and something I hadn't expected, pathos. There was love and affection in his voice when Groucho talked about his brothers. There was a moment of regret, when he spoke of how he had never finished school. By the end of the evening, we truly felt as though we'd met Groucho Marx. He never dropped character until the very end, when, again as Frank, he related a story of meeting George Fenneman.

And meeting Frank afterwards was just as wonderful. He stuck around in the lobby to autograph programs and photos, and graciously posed for pictures until the last of the audience had gone home. We also had an opportunity to chat with Alex, who was equally gracious, and deeply touched that we wanted his autograph, as well as Frank's. We, of course, tendered our thanks to Frank for a great evening and told him that "Mark had sent us." Carmela asked Frank about what his workout routine must be, to which he replied, "I think you just saw it."

Anyway, we wanted to thank *you* for all of your previous stories about Frank, and links to his performances. Once again, sir, we are in your debt.

You most certainly are and we accept all major credit cards.

Hey, I should I mention that Frank does other things besides impersonate Groucho.  January 15 thru March 3 of next year, he'll be in Philadelphia at the historic Walnut Street Theater, directing and starring in a production of the Ken Ludwig farce, Comedy of Tenors. If you're not familiar with the play, it's kind of like Room Service if Room Service had been set in Paris in the thirties, with a lot of On the Twentieth Century thrown in. Get tickets here — and you might also note that Frank will be doing his Groucho show in that theater on February 25.

Then! For years now, when Frank hasn't been Grouchoing, he's been Caesaring. Caesar is another Ferrante characterization, most often seen as the host and star of Teatro ZinZanni. Those of you wondering what the heck Teatro ZinZanni is didn't read this description that appeared on this blog long ago…

Imagine a grand tent inside of which you find a swanky restaurant that serves a gourmet meal as a bevy of wonderful food servers and performers put on a show all around you. There are singers, dancers, comedians, acrobats in the style of (the comparison is unavoidable) Cirque du Soleil and artists whose skills are awesome but utterly unidentifiable. This all transpires not on a faraway stage but up close and personal. The aerial acts are practically over your head in the intimate theater. The dancers are sometimes performing not just near your table but actually on it, skillfully not stepping in the fine soup you have just been served.

This is a fine description but I need to explain more. It is sometimes difficult to tell where the attractive wait staff leaves off and the equally attractive cast takes over. Some of each serve you. Some of each entertain you. The performers roam about in character, chatting you up and entertaining you while you dine. That's when they aren't dancing…or hustling you up out of your seat to dance with them. The show is quite interactive…and did I mention the sensational live five-piece band? The compleat ZinZanni experience runs about three hours. They serve you the first course. They perform for a while. Then they serve you the second course and perform while you eat it…and so on. You leave quite well-fed and, of course, utterly entertained.

At the time I wrote that (10/30/10), there were two outlets of Teatro ZinZanni. There was the one in San Francisco (at which I had just had a great evening) and the one in Seattle. Since then, lease problems forced both to close for a time. The Seattle production reopens in a new location next week and if you want to know all about it, go to this page.

The San Francisco presence is awaiting the construction of its new home and is expected to reopen late next year. In the meantime though, a new branch of Teatro ZinZanni opens April 5 of next year in Chicago with its star/host Caesar, aka Frank! He'll be there for many months and I'm determined to get back there to see him and what I'm sure will be a wonderful show. Here's a link to the webpage for it but there isn't much there yet. Tickets will go on sale about a month from now.  It's one of those things you just have to experience.

The wrist is better, thank you. My orthopedist x-rayed it from every possible angle, found nothing amiss and concluded that it was just a strained muscle and suggested I give it a rest and Advil. I took no Advil (or anything else) and it's been getting better on its own. Another day or three and it'll be fine…and it's already fine enough to resume normal typing.

So many people are saying and writing so much about politics now, I can't find much to say or write that hasn't already been said or written. Trump continues to advance the premise that every single criticism of him is Fake News, mob hysteria and darn close to capital-T Treason. Does anyone believe that he is not the root cause of all this incivility? It's like when Republicans were accusing Obama of being "divisive" because he stubbornly refused to give them everything they wanted.

Speaking of Obama: Next time you hear some non-fan of his insist that the nation "suffered" under him presidency, here's a list of the kind of things that caused all that suffering.

And Trump continues to promise great things despite the fact that there is absolutely nothing looming that is going to make those things happen. The latest — although I haven't looked in an hour or two — is the "revolutionary change" in the prescription drug program that will drastically lower prescription drug prices for seniors. Here's Kevin Drum to explain why there is close to a zero percent chance of this happening.

Lastly: The other day here, I linked to a video about the longest non-stop flight offered these days, which goes from Newark to Singapore. I should have known my long-time pal Joe Brancatelli — who knows everything about flying up to and including the shoe sizes of every flight attendant — would have something to contribute. Joe flew on this flight when Singapore Airlines offered it back between between 2004 and 2013. In fact, he's flown it twice, which is two more times than you'll ever find me on it. Here's a report on his first experience and here's a column about his second, which was before they stopped that route for a time.

My favorite current stand-up comedian Lewis Black has announced new tour dates through next April, including Los Angeles on 1/26/19. Check out the list and see if he's appearing near you.

If he is, here's what you want to do and you want to do it, A.S.A.P. See on the list if they have F.U.C.K.U. Tix available. Those are tickets made available for members of his fan club. They're usually in the first ten rows and cheaper than comparable seats if you're not a member of his fan club. They're also available before the regular tickets go on sale. In most cases, they go on sale tomorrow, meaning Friday. So you can get better seats if you join his fan club and order today. This is your final warning.

Sore wrist or not, I have to write something about a delightful gentleman named James Karen who has just left us at the age of 94. Jimmy was an example, as we all wish we could be, of someone who lived life to the fullest. He was that rare kind of actor who never starred in a long-running series but still somehow managed to always be working. To be that, you have to be either a very, very good actor or a very, very great person to be around. He was both. And he and his splendid wife Alba always seemed to be at every party and every event, even when he'd reached an age where you might not expect a man to be so active.

Leonard Maltin has written a piece about him that I can't top so I'll just add this: Jimmy had been everywhere and knew everyone. He had an anecdote — and often not a clean one — from every film or TV show he'd worked on and about every other actor he'd ever shared a stage or scene with. Amazingly, they all seemed to be true, even the ones about Marilyn. I have met seven men who claimed to have slept with Marilyn Monroe. Jimmy was the only one whose story I believed.

I met Jimmy through my longtime friend Jewel Shepard, who shared screen time with him in the "cult classic," Return of the Living Dead. You usually didn't say a lot around him because if you were talking, he wasn't…and he was infinitely more interesting than you could ever be.

One time, Jewel and I went with our pal Frank Ferrante to see Hal Holbrook perform his legendary — and that way-overused adjective is entirely appropriate here — Mark Twain Tonight show. We were delighted to run into Jimmy Karen and Alba, who were there to see their old friend and we got backstage when Hal came into the green room afterwards to greet a select band of admirers.

Frank and I are in the background of this video. You won't see Jewel (except for a half-second in a mirror) because she was smart enough to sense the importance of the moment and capture it on her cellphone, then post it to YouTube. Notice the love and respect between two men who had both been acting all their lives. This will tell you more about James Karen than I can possibly convey and give you some sense of why he was so beloved. Thank you, Jewel…

The Standard & Poor's 500 is down and what is the Trump Administration going to do about it? Why, blame everyone they can except Donald Trump. He says it's sabotage by Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell. White House economic advisor Larry Kudlow says it's because people out there are afraid Democrats will get some power in the coming election and undo all of Trump's excellent programs.

That's a great way to have it: If stocks are up, it's because of Trump's policies and if they're down, it's because investors are afraid of losing Trump's policies. Nothing can ever possibly happen to the market that proves those policies are wrong. It must be nice to be responsible for so many things that you can never be responsible for.

So I'm operating on about four hours of sleep at the moment. Last night, I was up 'til all hours helping a neighbor with a medical emergency and during it, for no visible reason, my right wrist decided to do one of Dick Cheney's famous enhanced interrogations of the rest of me. Hurts like hell and makes typing difficult.

I have to type in order to address you, my dear followers, and also to finish the script that I was up writing at 2:30 AM when the call came from the neighbor. I'm going to not post anything else here until the wrist's better and/or I finish the script, which I have to do by 3 PM when Sergio comes by to get it, plus I'm seeing my wrist-repairing (I hope) doctor at 1:00. And hell, I may even be self-indulgent enough to take a nap.

That is why I may be neglecting you for a while, my friends. All will be better shortly.

I've been to Canada three times in my life — once to Calgary and twice to Victoria. Otherwise, I have never been outside of the Continental United States. Why? Because one of my ideas of hell would be to have to sit on an airplane for more than about six hours. One time when bad weather and tech problems turned a 5.5 hour fight to New York into an 8.5 hour flight, I was ready to just free-fall from the airplane, with or without a parachute.

This video features Scott McCartney, travel writer for The Wall Street Journal, taking the world's longest flight — Newark to Singapore — and giving tips on how to endure the 18+ hour flight. I can't think of anything that could happen in any destination city anywhere that would make me feel that a flight that long was worth it. No combination of money and/or nymphomaniac supermodels would get me on that plane, especially after watching this video…