I'm swamped with a deadline but I have to write something here about Buddy Hackett, who was found dead this morning. He was either 78 if you believe the Associated Press or 79 if you believe Reuters. I think Reuters is right.
I had the pleasure of working with Buddy a couple of times and for some reason, had been running into him lately. Here's a photo taken at a party last Christmas. That's Buddy, me, Leonard Maltin and Chuck McCann — and I'm sorry Buddy isn't in the center but I didn't take the picture. Mr. Hackett had just told us the joke about the man who woke up one morning and discovered something weird on his forehead. He went to a doctor who told him he had a penis beginning to grow there. The man was hysterical and begged the doctor to remove it. The doctor said he couldn't without doing fatal damage to the man's circulatory system. "You mean that from now on, every morning when I shave, I'm going to have to look at this in the mirror?" the man asked. "No, don't worry," the doctor said. "The balls will cover your eyes."
I never quite warmed to Buddy as a stand-up. His act seemed to be a medley of jokes like the above — stories that anyone could tell, and did. I don't think there was even such a thing as "a Buddy Hackett joke." But I liked him as a comic actor, especially in The Music Man and It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, and he told wonderful stories about Dean and Frank and Sammy and everyone else in show business. I always wished, when I was around him or I saw him on a talk show, he'd dispense with the penis jokes and just tell anecdotes. He'd worked with everyone and seemed to remember every bit of it.
He had a lot of anger, especially about "idiot hotel owners" who'd spoiled the market for headliners in Las Vegas. Like a lot of older performers, he fought an ongoing battle to keep appearing for top money and not to get relegated to the status of Non-Working Legend. Up until this morning, he seemed to be in good health and just as sharp as ever…but the business, of course, has changed. At the same time, he had a sweet side and was fiercely protective of his friends. At the Hollywood Collectors Show in January, he was sitting next to another performer about the same age but recovering from a stroke. The other performer — once a big star — was being generally overlooked by the attendees and no one was purchasing his autobiography, for which Buddy had written the foreword. "Go make a little fuss over him," Buddy whispered to me. As others flocked to meet the famous Buddy Hackett and purchase his autographed photos, he gave them the pics for free and hinted that they should step over and buy his pal's book instead. He didn't care if he didn't make any money that day. He just didn't want another long-time star to feel forgotten. That's one fate I don't think Buddy ever had to worry about for himself.