Monthly Archives: December 2024

This is a meme that's making the rounds of the Internet and I decided it should be on my site too…

And of course, we all remember the great song from the 1966 animated special from the great Dr. Seuss book, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was directed by Chuck Jones and starred the voice of Boris Karloff…but maybe the real star of it was Thurl "Tony the Tiger" Ravenscroft singing this song. The lyrics were written by Theodor "Dr. Seuss" Geisel himself and the tune was by Albert Hague, who some of you may recall as the music teacher, Professor Shorofsky, in both the movie and TV series of Fame. Here's how it was sung in the special by Mr. Ravenscroft…

There have been dozens, if not hundreds of cover versions and videos but here are three I like. This first one was done by Voctave, a musical group I often feature on this blog…

And this is by another favorite group, Pentatonix…

And this version is by yet another musical group, Home Free…

Have you got two hours to learn all about Bob Hope? Here's the complete profile of him from the American Masters series on PBS. It's a pretty good history of the man and it isn't too biased in his favor…

It's been a busy week here and way too much of it was spent answering phone calls that turned out to be spam callers trying to send me something I absolutely don't want. A lot of them ask for me by name, then say they're with "Medicare Providers" or some name that sounds kinda official and connected to my actual medical insurance. They actually are in no way affiliated with with Medicare. What they seek in these calls — which I assume they're recording — is to get me to okay them sending me some piece of medical equipment. I usually cut them off pretty quickly but sometimes I play along for a minute or so.

They tell me their records — which allegedly include info from some unnamed doctor I see — say that I have some condition. Usually, when I let them get as far as this part of the call, they say it's back trouble and that this unnamed doctor of mine wants me to receive, at absolutely no cost to me, a back brace. The problem with that: I absolutely do not have back trouble nor would any of my doctors think I do. Still, if I say "Okay" and verify my shipping address, they'll send me this thing and then, I'm pretty sure, bill Medicare some very large sum of money. Sometimes, it's not a back brace. Sometimes, it's a blood sugar monitor or a piece of exercise equipment.

I say no pretty firmly, whereupon they hang up. More often actually, I don't let them get that far. Right off, I say, "You are not with Medicare" and they either hang up or argue a bit and then hang up…or I hang up. So far, no one has shipped me anything but these calls inspired me to carefully study the statements I receive from the genuine Medicare folks. In the last few months, I've reported four different instances where the Medicare statement says I received some sort of medical equipment (which I never got). Or they claim I underwent sort of test (which I never took) from some provider I never heard of and which is usually located far off in another state.

In the most recent statement, Medicare was billed by a medical supply company in North Carolina for a "lumbar-sacral orthosis, sagittal-coronal control, with rigid anterior and posterior frame panels." I don't know what that is but I do know I never got one of them things.

Oh, wait. I just thought to Google it and I found the above photo and this definition: "A lumbar-sacral orthosis is a type of back brace designed to support and stabilize the lower spine, specifically from the sacrococcygeal junction to the T-9 vertebra. It features rigid panels and frames that control the movement of the spine in multiple directions, helping to reduce pain and promote healing." Yeah…a back brace.

So that's what it is and like I said, I've never received or needed one. The firm in Norh Carolina allegedly supplied this to me last June and then, according to the statement I received, billed Medicare $1,963.00 for it. This was above the allowable amount for one of these so Medicare paid them $1,089.30.

By the way, I'm pleased that reporting these cases never takes long. I intend to keep doing this even though I have yet to hear the disposition of any of these matters thus far reported. What I'm kinda curious to know is if the outfits that have been paid for bogus claims of goods and services to me are the same folks who call me claiming to be "Medicare Providers" or "Medicare Consultants" or somesuch name. I never authorized any of them to send me anything and they didn't…but maybe they submitted claims anyway.

I'll let you know if I learn anything. In the meantime, speaking of bogus scams, here's this one more time…

Brenda Lee's 1958 recording of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" became a hit all over again last year and I've decided to include this recent video she made of it in this year's countdown…

…and also this recent version cover of the song which is very faithful to Ms. Lee's even though it took two ladies to do what Brenda did all by herself. That's Josh Turner's band and the vocalists are two ladies who call themselves The Ladybugs…

One of the happiest places I've ever been was the workshop of one of the nicest and most talented men it has ever been my honor to know. I'm talking about Daws Butler, the great cartoon voice actor who put words in the mouth of — and I'm doing this from memory — Huckleberry Hound, Yogi Bear, Mr. Jinks, Dixie the Mouse, Hokey Wolf, Quick Draw McGraw, Baba Looie, Snooper, Blabber, Augie Doggie, Snagglepuss, Elroy Jetson, Wally Gator, Peter Potamus, Bingo (of the Banana Splits), Captain Crunch and probably a few hundred others.

One of the foundations of the Hanna-Barbera cartoon studio was Daws, not only because he voiced so many of their earlier characters but because he set the standard for voice acting for television animation. Mel Blanc was the guy who showed everyone how to do it for theatrical cartoons with full animation. Daws was the man who loaded his performances with so much personality that it made up for the fact that the characters didn't move so much and when they did, they all moved in pretty much the same way.

And he was a wonderful person. This video is Daws taking someone on tour of his workshop, which was in a guest house in the back of his home in Beverly Hills. There, he taught students, many of whom became very successful in the voiceover field. I was not his student in that sense. I have trouble sounding like me, let alone someone else. But he invited me to sit in on classes occasionally and he and I spent many hours in that studio just talking…and I think I learned something about writing by better understanding the craft of acting.

This video allows you to spend ten minutes with Daws. I'm sorry for your sake you couldn't spend more…

10-year old Gayla Peevey recorded "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" in 1953 and had a decent-sized hit with it. Here she is on some show back then lip-syncing to the recording…

There are about eighty-seven thousand other videos of this song on YouTube but fear not. I've only chosen three to clog your screen. First, we have the Gold Note Chorus from Fresno, California…

Next, we have a jazzy version from Gretchen Wilson…

Lastly, here's Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox featuring Lauren Tyler Scott. If this isn't enough for you, you'll be amazed how many other interpretations you can find online…

This is the most popular thing I've ever posted on this weblog. In fact, it's so popular that proprietors of other sites have thought nothing of just copying the whole thing and posting it on their pages, often with no mention of me and with the implication that they are the "I" in this tale. Please don't do that — to me or anyone. By all means, post a link to it but don't just appropriate it and especially don't let people think it's your work. This is the season for giving, not taking.

Yes, it's true…and I was very happy to learn from two of Mel Tormé's kids that their father had happily told them of the incident. Hearing that was my present…

I want to tell you a story…

The scene is Farmers Market — the famed tourist mecca of Los Angeles. It's located but yards from the facility they call, "CBS Television City in Hollywood"…which, of course, is not in Hollywood but at least is very close.

Farmers Market is a quaint collection of bungalow stores, produce stalls and little stands where one can buy darn near anything edible one wishes to devour. You buy your pizza slice or sandwich or Chinese food or whatever at one of umpteen counters, then carry it on a tray to an open-air table for consumption.

During the Summer or on weekends, the place is full of families and tourists and Japanese tour groups. But this was a winter weekday, not long before Christmas, and the crowd was mostly older folks, dawdling over coffee and danish. For most of them, it's a good place to get a donut or a taco, to sit and read the paper.

For me, it's a good place to get out of the house and grab something to eat. I arrived, headed for my favorite barbecue stand and, en route, noticed that Mel Tormé was seated at one of the tables.

Mel Tormé. My favorite singer. Just sitting there, sipping a cup of coffee, munching on an English Muffin, reading The New York Times. Mel Tormé.

I had never met Mel Tormé. Alas, I still haven't and now I never will. He looked like he was engrossed in the paper that day so I didn't stop and say, "Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you how much I've enjoyed all your records." I wish I had.

Instead, I continued over to the BBQ place, got myself a chicken sandwich and settled down at a table to consume it. I was about halfway through when four Christmas carolers strolled by, singing "Let It Snow," a cappella.

They were young adults with strong, fine voices and they were all clad in splendid Victorian garb. The Market had hired them (I assume) to stroll about and sing for the diners — a little touch of the holidays.

"Let It Snow" concluded not far from me to polite applause from all within earshot. I waved the leader of the chorale over and directed his attention to Mr. Tormé, seated about twenty yards from me.

"That's Mel Tormé down there. Do you know who he is?"

The singer was about 25 so it didn't horrify me that he said, "No."

I asked, "Do you know 'The Christmas Song?'"

Again, a "No."

I said, "That's the one that starts, 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…'"

"Oh, yes," the caroler chirped. "Is that what it's called? 'The Christmas Song?'"

"That's the name," I explained. "And that man wrote it." The singer thanked me, returned to his group for a brief huddle…and then they strolled down towards Mel Tormé. I ditched the rest of my sandwich and followed, a few steps behind. As they reached their quarry, they began singing, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" directly to him.

A big smile formed on Mel Tormé's face — and it wasn't the only one around. Most of those sitting at nearby tables knew who he was and many seemed aware of the significance of singing that song to him. For those who didn't, there was a sudden flurry of whispers: "That's Mel Tormé…he wrote that…"

As the choir reached the last chorus or two of the song, Mel got to his feet and made a little gesture that meant, "Let me sing one chorus solo." The carolers — all still apparently unaware they were in the presence of one of the world's great singers — looked a bit uncomfortable. I'd bet at least a couple were thinking, "Oh, no…the little fat guy wants to sing."

But they stopped and the little fat guy started to sing…and, of course, out came this beautiful, melodic, perfectly-on-pitch voice. The look on the face of the singer I'd briefed was amazed at first…then properly impressed.

On Mr. Tormé's signal, they all joined in on the final lines: "Although it's been said, many times, many ways…Merry Christmas to you…" Big smiles all around.

And not just from them. I looked and at all the tables surrounding the impromptu performance, I saw huge grins of delight…which segued, as the song ended, into a huge burst of applause. The whole tune only lasted about two minutes but I doubt anyone who was there will ever forget it.

I have witnessed a number of thrilling "show business" moments — those incidents, far and few between, where all the little hairs on your epidermis snap to attention and tingle with joy. Usually, these occur on a screen or stage. I hadn't expected to experience one next to a falafel stand — but I did.

Tormé thanked the harmonizers for the serenade and one of the women said, "You really wrote that?"

He nodded. "A wonderful songwriter named Bob Wells and I wrote that…and, get this — we did it on the hottest day of the year in July. It was a way to cool down."

Then the gent I'd briefed said, "You know, you're not a bad singer." He actually said that to Mel Tormé.

Mel chuckled. He realized that these four young folks hadn't the velvet-foggiest notion who he was, above and beyond the fact that he'd worked on that classic carol. "Well," he said. "I've actually made a few records in my day…"

"Really?" the other man asked. "How many?"

Tormé smiled and said, "Ninety."

I probably own about half of them on vinyl and/or CD. For some reason, they sound better on vinyl. (My favorite was the album he made with Buddy Rich. Go ahead. Find me a better parlay of singer and drummer. I'll wait.)

Today, as I'm reading obits, I'm reminded of that moment. And I'm impressed to remember that Mel Tormé was also an accomplished author and actor. Mostly though, I'm recalling that pre-Christmas afternoon.

I love people who do something so well that you can't conceive of it being done better. Doesn't even have to be something important: Singing, dancing, plate-spinning, mooning your neighbor's cat, whatever. There is a certain beauty to doing almost anything to perfection.

No recording exists of that chorus that Mel Tormé sang for the other diners at Farmers Market but if you never believe another word I write, trust me on this. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Songwriter and occasional actor Ross Bagdasarian (aka David Seville) had several hit records before he recorded "The Chipmunk Song" in the latter part of 1958. Earlier that year, he'd had a Number One Smash with "The Witch Doctor," which featured him singing along with a sped-up voice, also by him. I guess he figured if one sped-up voice was big, three would be bigger and he gave us Alvin, Simon and Theodore. "The Chipmunk Song" was not only a bigger sensation but it launched an empire that thrives to this day.

Here's Mr. Bagdasarian-Seville lip-syncing to a cut-down version of that original record that year on The Ed Sullivan Show. I recall Bob Clampett — the great cartoon director and the producer of Beany and Cecil — telling me he had something to do with that appearance. It was helping design the puppets or helping Bagdasarian get them built or find puppeteers…I don't know what but something…

People keep singing this song. Last year, I featured this video which I like a lot. It's by a group called Voiceplay…

And here's a somewhat new version by a group called Cimorelli. I like this one, too…

I've seen the movie Goldfinger enough times to notice every single thing wrong with its script…or so I thought. Here in 16 minutes or less, the folks at CinemaSins heckle the film and point out an awful lot of things that never occurred to me. Some of it's absurdly nit-picky but a lot of it is not. And it all struck me as very funny…

Someone once likened running a blog to having a pet in the house. It's always there, it's kind of alive and it needs constant feeding and attention. At the moment, it needs a big chunk o' money to upgrade some software so I thought I'd give some of you the chance to kick in. You don't have to. This blog has always been free to read and it's never taken a dime of paid advertising. I intend to keep it that way: No subscriptions, no paywalls, no content only available to donors. Just every so often, we ask for a little financial help…

We have a new entry this year…Lou Monte's 1960 Xmas novelty tune, "Dominick the Donkey." I have a special fondness for Christmas carolers, especially the little quartets who are hired to serenade diners at restaurants at the holiday season. When I'm dining and they're going table to table taking requests, I always ask them, "What's your silliest song?" and the answer is always "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" (which we'll get to before the week is out) or "Dominick the Donkey." I guess diners of Italian heritage remember it from their childhoods and ask for it.

Here's a recently-made (I believe) music video for the song and I love the fact that someone went out, found a donkey and dressed it up to make this…

Lou Monte (1917–1989) was an Italian-American singer of Italian-American songs and he actually managed to have a couple of big hit records on the charts over the years. One that you may be familiar with was "Please, Mr. Columbus." If you go to YouTube and search for that title, you will find not only many, many uploads of Mr. Monte's recording but a staggering number of interpretations by choral groups, barbershop quartets and just guys in their living rooms with guitars. It has nothing to do with Christmas but it's the season for giving so I'm giving you the chance to hear Lou Monte's recording of it again or even for the first time. Please forgive a bit of heritage insensitivity therein…

If anyone's ordering tickets off Telecharge to see Audra McDonald in Gypsy, try entering the promo code "GIMMICK" and see if that gets you a discount. Can't hurt to try.

Someone who signed their message "Comicspies" wrote to ask me…

In a 1974 radio interview with Jack Kirby, Jerry Connelly asked Jack what his influences were and he responded: "The masters in comics, certainly, are the ones in the newspaper field: Milton Caniff with Terry and the Pirates and Alex Raymond, who did Flash Gordon. There were the fellows who did the funny strips, too. They all influenced me because their product had such appeal."

Who were Jack's favorite artists who specialized either specialized in humor (like Walt Kelly) or both adventure and humor storytelling (like Segar)?

Elzie Segar — who for anyone reading this who doesn't know, did the Thimble Theater newspaper strip which was later renamed in honor of its main character, Popeye the Sailor — was the one Jack mentioned most often. He loved Al Capp's work, though not the man himself. He loved Billy DeBeck's Barney Google and pretty much anyone who was on the funnies page back in the thirties. I don't recall him ever mentioning Walt Kelly or anyone who came along in the forties or after except Charles Schulz. He did like a number of guys in comic books who combined humor and adventure like Jack Cole or Dick Briefer. (Briefer was a friend and he worked with Jack on some early comics.)

One cartoonist Jack sometimes named as an inspiration was Will Gould — no relation to Chester Gould, who did Dick Tracy. Will, who I knew through a brief telephone-only friendship, did funny strips in the thirties along with a hard-boiled detective comic strip called Red Barry. I think Jack favored Red Barry over the humor work but he admired the guy in both genres. Will was very flattered when I told him Kirby was a fan of the work he'd done long, long ago.

That's all that comes to mind. I wish I could give you more names but by the time I worked with him, Jack rarely looked at what other contemporary artists were doing. He respected anyone who created anything that was popular, especially if it was highly original…but I don't think he paid much attention to newspaper strips in the seventies…or even to most comic books unless there was a specific reason for him to read one of them.

I'm still a little puzzled and curious about this thing with Stubhub and the tickets to Gypsy. The best seats are $471 each at the box office. At the moment, the Stubhub site has someone offering up to four seats in Row F for tonight for $940 each. Lately, there always seem to be four tickets available in Row F for varying high prices and others in the next few rows for slightly lower prices. But to add to the mystery, the site also has a line that says, of tonight's performance, "3 tickets were sold in the last 7 days."

So what I'm thinking — and please correct me if you have direct knowledge or a better hunch — is that these higher-priced seats are being offered by some person or agency with ties to the box office and that they're house seats. House seats are tickets that folks involved with the show can arrange for their friends or contacts to buy at face value at the last minute. So if they sell on Stubhub for more money, great…but if they don't sell by an hour or so before the show, they go off Stubhub and the box office offers them for face value or less at the ticket window.

The point is that somebody is going to sit in those seats for that performance and someone will make money off them. But maybe I'm wrong about this.

Meanwhile, one of my frequent correspondents here, Prentice Hammond, wrote to say…

I don't know why ticket pricing is not more like Comic-Con. Maybe it would not work because Comic-Con tickets are always in demand. However, Comic-Con has made it so external players cannot profit by buying all the tickets and reselling them for a much higher value.

Well, someone is trying to sell Comic-Con 2025 tickets on Stubhub. Right now, someone is offering four-day passes with Preview Night there for $2873 each and there are other offerings for slightly-less outrageous sums. I have no idea who this is or if these passes would actually get a buyer in the door. I do know though that there's a Kosher, legal way to get badges for less money. The Comic-Con Museum sells what they call Legend memberships which give you all sorts of privileges and discounts and access and special invites to the museum but it also includes a 4-Day + Preview Night SDCC 2025 badge.

The price for one of these is $1900, which is steep but not as steep as $2873 or some other current asking prices on Stubhub for badges of questionable validity. I'm thinking of putting up a Stubhub offering that won't get you into Comic-Con but Sergio Aragonés and I will come to your home and sing the entire score from Gypsy. It won't be cheap.