Monthly Archives: June 2005

A short preview of Bob Woodward's new book on his relationship with Mark "Deep Throat" Felt.

Back in the sixties in the pages of Marvel Comics, Stan Lee would occasionally award some lucky (?) reader what he called a "no prize." It might be in a letter column or it might be in the house ad section called the Bullpen Bulletins. The reader might have made some extraordinary contribution to the cause of Marvel, or he might just have found some dumb error in an issue and called it to Stan's attention. Whatever the location, whatever the meritorious conduct, it warranted the same reward: A "no prize," as in, "You get no prize." I gather this was kind of a running joke on the old Jean Shepherd radio programs and Stan kept it going, but I never heard enough of Mr. Shepherd to know the derivation for certain.

Anyway, some readers were gleeful that Stan had awarded them a "no prize," and some didn't understand and they'd write in and say, "I haven't received it." Around 1967, I'm guessing, Stan took the joke to the next level and began actually sending out…well, I'm not sure if you could say he sent out "no prizes" because there was no such thing. But he sent out empty envelopes that said they contained your no prizes. Above is a pic of one of these envelopes — a later version, judging from the return address — which sported lettering by Marvel's ace letterer at the time, Sam Rosen. Someone wrote and asked me about them so I thought I'd post this for all the world to see. There was something very charming and clever about the whole concept, and it was part of what made Marvel Comics feel like a company run by your buddies.

We've made a few time changes in the schedule, mostly a matter of shifting a couple things up a half-hour…

GSN, the former Game Show Network, is airing a tribute to Paul Winchell tomorrow and Friday morn — four episodes, two each morning, of What's My Line? in which Paul was on the panel. The most interesting is probably the first, in which the Mystery Guest was Mortimer Snerd…or more correctly, Edgar Bergen working Mortimer Snerd. This one reran on GSN just two months ago.

The press release from GSN is confusing because of that old convention, which is to refer to shows that air before around 6 AM as being part of the previous night's programming. The first two episodes, they say, run at 3:00 AM and 3:30 AM on Wednesday, June 29. But if you set your TiVo or VCR to that date and those times, you won't get the show in question. In the reality-based world, they're airing early the morning of Thursday, June 30. You'd think they'd give the real date since most people are probably recording the shows and not watching them live, and even the folks who are watching live can figure out when Thursday morning begins.

The What's My Line? episodes that were supposed to air the next two days were ones from July of '57 — one with Julius LaRosa as Mystery Guest and the other with Robert Sterling and Anne Jeffreys. If GSN does what they usually do, they'll just skip rerunning these and not bump them later. Assuming that's how they operate, the rerun early Saturday morning will have Jayne Mansfield, the one Sunday morning will have Edie Adams and Jane Russell, and the one on Monday will have Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Here's the best article I've come across about Bush's speech last night and our current dilemma in Iraq. It's by William Saletan, and he likens the U.S. position of open-ended support of Iraq to domestic welfare programs that promise ongoing support to those who won't help themselves.

By the way, there's a very good reason why, as Saletan notes, members of the new Iraqi government are not "standing up." It's because when they do, they tend to get assassinated.

Canadian cartoonist and puzzle master Owen McCarron died on Monday at the age of 76. He was a longtime employee of the Halifax Herald Limited, which featured his cartoons and games in several newspapers published in Nova Scotia. He also published on his own, countless commercial giveaway comics and puzzle collections that featured his work.

American comic fans will know McCarron best for a flurry of puzzle comics and books he did for Marvel in the late seventies and early eighties featuring their characters. They included a monthly comic — Fun and Games Magazine, which lasted for 13 issues commencing in 1979 — a short-lived Sunday newspaper strip and several dozen activity books. McCarron wrote, drew and designed most of this material, and also did a few ink jobs for Marvel's superhero comics. His work was clever and well-drawn, and I recall being very impressed with his puzzle-making ability.

There's a short article over on Slate about what they do when the voice of a cartoon character passes away. I was among those interviewed for the piece.

Somewhere down this page, April Winchell writes about her complex, contentious relationship with her father, Paul. I obviously don't want to get in the middle of a family matter but people are writing me to ask if what she says is true or exaggerated or wacko or what. I'll just say that I don't think anyone who knew Paul well will think that any of her comments are out of line, and some might be surprised at the amount of compassion shown.

This might be worth noting. Friday evening, I attended a party for June Foray and when I came home, I had an e-mail from a friend with the rumor that Paul Winchell had died. I was skeptical since I'd just come from a gathering of folks who knew Paul and it had not been mentioned. In fact, I had a chat with Paul's agent there and he obviously hadn't heard any such thing. I couldn't check the truth of the rumor that evening since everyone I would have called was still at the party. It took me until around 5:00 the next afternoon to get in touch with someone who confirmed it and I posted my announcement here at 5:36.

By this point, the rumor was making its way through newsgroups and, as nothing had hit the mainstream news outlets, folks were wondering if it was true. After I made my post, some there began arguing as to whether I was a reliable enough source that my report could be believed. (And by the way, that does not bother me at all. I don't think you should even believe every word on the New York Times website, let alone my silly little offering here. A healthy skepticism about anything posted to Ye Olde Internet is not a bad idea.)

A little after 7:00 Saturday evening, April posted on her site that she had just received a call from someone telling her that her father had died. So I heard about it around 21 hours before she did, and I posted it on my site more than an hour before anyone thought to call and inform the man's daughter. That ought to tell you something.

Some websites are making much of the near-simultaneous deaths of two members of the Disney Winnie the Pooh cast: Paul Winchell, the voice of Tigger, on Friday…John Fiedler, who voiced Piglet, on Saturday. It's actually worse than that. They're forgetting that Howard Morris, who provided the voice of Gopher in the first few Pooh featurettes, passed away only a little over a month ago.

John Fiedler had a great career apart from his brief moments as Piglet. He was wonderful in one of my favorite movies, the film version of The Odd Couple, re-creating a role he'd originated on the Broadway stage. He was even better in his recurring role on The Bob Newhart Show. Here's a link to the New York Times obit, which appears this morning right under the one for Paul Winchell. This is not fun.

Ray Arthur sends this message…

I too was in awe of Winchell as a kid, and had growing respect for his inventions as I got older and understood his contributions on a whole 'nother level. I remember as a young child (with a limited understanding of ventriloquism) having my father explain how great Edgar Bergen was on the radio. And questioning, even at 7 or 8, "but Dad, ventriloquism on the radio? Now, there's no question that Bergen routines were hysterical, but I saw the quality only from the comedic standpoint not the ventriliqual (if that's a word) standpoint. (Later, near the end of his career I saw Bergen on TV…"but Dad, his lips are moving. Paul Winchell's lips don't move." Did I just miss Bergen when he was great, as a younger performer? Or was Winchell that much better?

Well, I preferred Winchell but that may have been because I was a child of television and he was doing my kind of shows when I was growing up. Also, Charlie McCarthy with his top hat, monocle and snooty attitude always struck me as really being of another era.

Winchell was much better from a technical standpoint, and I believe Mr. Bergen even admitted as much. But not moving your lips is only one part of being a great ventriloquist. There are plenty of guys around who, thanks to diligent practice, can recite Peter Piper over and over without the slightest lip-quiver. What too many of them lack is the ability to amuse, and some even fall short in the skill of misdirection. As with a good magician, part of the art is to make unnatural actions seem natural and to get you to look where he wants you to look. Bergen was very funny and a good actor. The only part he didn't have down were the lip movements which, of course, didn't matter on radio.

There's a great old episode of I've Got a Secret where he came on with Mortimer Snerd and answered the panel's questions…only the secret was that Bergen wasn't doing the Snerd voice. Actor-comedian Chuck McCann was hidden under the desk and he did Mortimer's voice while Bergen moved the puppet and his own lips. You read that right: To make the bit work, Bergen had to act like he was speaking for Mr. Snerd so he moved his own lips and did all the usual mannerisms that he did to throw attention on the dummy. What's more, Chuck says that it was Bergen's idea to do it that way, meaning that Edgar acknowledged that he wasn't very good at not moving the old lips. I don't think it mattered to him and I suspect it didn't matter to most of the audience. It's like being able to see the wire when Peter Pan is flying on stage. It's more fun to pretend you don't see it.

By the way: The best ventriloquist I know of who's working these days is Ronn Lucas, who's currently appearing in an afternoon show at the Rio Hotel in Las Vegas. You can see a five minute video of him over on this page of his website. He has all the skills I mentioned, including being very funny. He bills himself as "the man who can make anything talk" and he really can. One night, we were in the coffee shop at the Flamingo Hilton in Laughlin, and he convinced the waitress that there had to be hidden speakers in the salt and pepper shakers, the sugar bowl, the napkin holder, the Heinz Ketchup…everything on the table. In fact, I just moved my mouth and let him order for me. If you get to Vegas, go see him…and go early so you can get a seat up front and judge how good he really is.

For the last few years, the best CDs of recorded Broadway-type material and show tunes have been produced by a pal of mine named Bruce Kimmel. He worked for a time for Varese Sarabande and was responsible for some excellent material there. Now, he's launched his own label and it's called Kritzerland. You can hear cuts from his first two releases at this website and you can even order the CDs themselves. Pay special attention to the new collection of songs by the mysterious Guy Haines, who appears on a lot of Bruce's albums but who is rarely seen in public.

Interesting that most of the obits now appearing for Paul Winchell are headlined something like, "Paul Winchell, voice of Tigger in 'Winnie the Pooh,' dies at 82" and then the fact that he was a pioneer of early television, the most admired ventriloquist of his time and the inventor of the artificial heart are kind of like bonus, "oh, by the way…" details. I know reporters are supposed to look at every story and ask themselves what about it will relate most directly to the readers, and I agree that Tigger was better known today than most of Paul's other accomplishments. Still, it does seem to trivialize his more important achievements to rank them that way. Paul was a genuine superstar of 1950's TV and his artificial heart hastened the invention of a more advanced one that has saved lives. Somehow, the priorities seem a bit askew to me.

But then again, Paul himself often seemed like one of those folks who's perpetually baffled as to what to put on their tax form under "occupation." The times I was with him, the conversation could be a bit schizoid because he'd be in the mood to talk about the latest medical breakthroughs and it would seem like a silly diversion to ask him about his early TV work. Or he'd get to talking about that end of his life and he wouldn't want to discuss anything else…except, of course, if he suddenly recalled a good dirty joke.

We hired him a few times to perform voices on the Garfield cartoon show. Once, it was on the same day that Buddy Hackett was in, and Buddy had spent about five minutes telling us a particularly filthy (but funny) story about a stutterer who visits a brothel. Later, after Mr. Hackett had departed, Paul arrived. When he realized he had an all-male audience, he told us the latest joke he'd heard. That's right. The exact same joke, almost verbatim. We all had to stand there and laugh and make like we hadn't heard it an hour earlier. Paul's performance of it, by the way, was better than Buddy's.

I think that was the same recording session where I said one of the stupidest things I've ever said in my life…and there's no small list of examples from which to choose. Paul was assigned two different roles — the elderly operator of a small, mom-and-pop market…and the evil corporate supermarket mogul who was trying to buy him out. At one point in the script, there was a scene of the two men arguing with each other and usually when that occurs, you try to assign the parts to two different actors. This time, it wasn't practical so I had Paul play both and I actually said to him, "I'm sorry, Paul, but I've got you talking to yourself here on page three. You think you can handle it?"

There was a pause and everyone in the studio looked at me like I was full-goose crazy, which I guess I was. I had just said that to Paul Winchell, the undisputed heavyweight champ at having public conversations with yourself. Everyone laughed and Paul said something like, "So, who's working your head today?" Needless to say, his dual performances were flawless.

I always felt a little in awe of Paul, and unable to properly communicate to him what his presence on TV had meant to me as a child. I told him how I'd treasured my Jerry Mahoney ventriloquist figure and practiced endlessly to try and do what he did. I was not the first person to say this to him — not even the hundredth, I'm sure — but he never seemed to know how to respond to it. I'm not sure he understood how valuable his example had been to so many in my generation, even though most of us Winchell fans hadn't grown up to become voice-tossers or even performers. He had his own great reverence and debt to Edgar Bergen and rather fiercely resisted the compliment that he was at least as great as — if not greater than — Bergen. Whether it was true or not — and Paul sure seemed to think it wasn't — he just didn't want to hear it or deal with it. Which is not to say he wasn't proud of things he'd accomplished. It's just that you could never gauge where that pride might lie at any given moment and when you might venture near some sore spot.

On her weblog today, Paul's daughter April (from his second of three marriages) writes, "My father was a very troubled and unhappy man. If there is another place after this one, it is my hope that he now has the peace that eluded him on earth." Based on my admittedly-limited encounters with Paul, I'd say that's a valid assessment and a truly appropriate wish.

The first newspaper obit I've seen for Paul Winchell. [Los Angeles Times, registration perhaps necessary]

An amazing man died yesterday at the age of 82. Paul Winchell was a pioneer of early television, appearing on hundreds of shows with his wooden-headed friends, Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff. He was a great ventriloquist — maybe the best ever — but he was also a great all-around entertainer and inventor.

Paul was born Paul Wilchin, and an early hero in his life was radio ventriloquist Edgar Bergen. (Years later, a whole generation of voice-throwers would cite Paul Winchell as their early hero.) Paul got his start on the popular radio program, Major Bowes' Original Amateur Hour and he later toured with stage presentations featuring talent discovered for that show. He debuted on television in 1948, at a time when few American homes even had sets, and was a mainstay of network programming for years with several different shows of his own and frequent guest appearances on others. Adults and kids alike loved the irreverent Jerry Mahoney who flirted with ladies and sassed the man who operated his head. They also loved the shy, silly Knucklehead, as well as other characters that Winchell devised. Paul was an extremely clever man and his shows were marked with inventive uses of the new medium.

Beginning in the mid-fifties, Paul turned that inventiveness into non-entertainment directions, especially medicine. His most famous achievement was in the invention of an artificial heart. Others advanced Paul's basic design to the point of making it practical but all acknowledged that the breaktrough, the underlying design, was the work of Paul Winchell. He invented numerous other things as well, including battery-heated gloves and a flameless cigarette lighter, and was as proud of his many patents as he was of all his awards as a performer.

During the sixties, Winch — as many of his friends called him — cut back on his ventriloquism and focused on his inventing. Most of his performing was limited to cartoon voice work — a field in which he quickly became one of the top practitioners. He was Dick Dastardly on Wacky Races and Dastardly and Muttley, Gargamel on The Smurfs, Fleagle on The Banana Splits, and many more…but his most enduring characterization would surely be Tigger in the Disney cartoons of Winnie the Pooh. Paul played Tigger for various projects until a few years ago when a rasp in his voice finally (and controversially in some circles) caused Disney to replace him. He also did occasional on-camera acting jobs, many of them sans dummies, and was very good in them.

I was privileged to know Paul and to work with him on several occasions. He was a brilliant man who made no secret that he was also a troubled man, uncertain of his own accomplishments and torn between performing and doing something "more serious." At times, he seemed genuinely stunned that he had been a personal hero to so many of us.

He had an amazing thirst for what some would call "dirty jokes." One of my oddest memories is of sitting with a group of friends in the living room of a small condo he had in Encino. Completely impromptu, Paul picked up a Jerry Mahoney dummy and launched into what had to have been the filthiest and funniest routine ever performed by a beloved children's entertainer. I enjoyed the performance but couldn't help but "flash back" to being five years old and watching Paul and Jerry hosting Super Circus on ABC. It was one of those moments when you're acutely aware of how far you've come since childhood.

Last year, Paul published a dark, candid autobiography called Winch, detailing some of the demons that had plagued him over the years. The book troubled many of Paul's friends, and some of his fans regretted reading it. Here's the review I posted at the time. As noted, it's not one of those "here's a list of my successes" memoirs. It was more like, "Here's how I went crazy." The last few times we spoke, I got the feeling that he was more at peace with himself than he'd been in decades, and I hope that was not just wishful thinking on my part.

I do not believe word of Paul's death has hit the wire services yet, but it's been floating around the Internet since last night. Sadly, I was finally able to confirm it via a friend of the family so I decided to go ahead and post this here. I'm sure there will be news stories soon and tributes. In the meantime, you can learn more about this extraordinary man — and even hear his theme song — over at his website. Even that exhaustive collection of articles and clippings will only give you some inkling of the brilliance of Winch.

The overnight Saturday Night Live rerun that airs tomorrow morning is the one from 2/10/79 hosted by Cicely Tyson with musical guests Talking Heads. It's not, as I recall, a very memorable episode.

This coming week on GSN's What's My Line? reruns: Tomorrow morning's Mystery Guest is Gene Kelly. Monday morning, it's Sal Mineo. Tuesday morn, catch Buddy Hackett. Wednesday, we get Tony Franciosa and Shelley Winters, plus one of the non-celeb guests is the great glamour photographer, Bunny Yeager. Thursday AM, you have your Julius LaRosa and then on Friday, it's Robert Sterling and Anne Jeffreys. These episodes are from June and July of '57.