As you've probably heard…

The Supreme Court on Monday rejected an attempt to reinstate the sexual assault conviction of Bill Cosby, which was overturned last year by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court. The justices provided no comment in their routine denial of a bid by local prosecutors to revive the 2018 conviction of the 84-year-old actor and comedian.

The rest of the above-quoted article explains that the justices decided that Cosby was wronged by prosecutors pressing ahead with a case against him after he'd been assured there would be no such prosecution, and using as evidence against him admissions he had made in light of that assurance. Yeah, I understand that. I don't like it but I understand it.

Many people are dismayed by the verdict but it's not like the man went utterly unpunished for his horrible deeds. He spent some time in prison and a whole lot of money on lawyers. He lost most of his reputation and career…and when he dies, you can bet the first paragraph of the obit will have some mention of him as a rapist. Is it enough? Certainly not but it's also not nothing. There was a time when a lot of us thought he'd never be spanked in the slightest.

Here's another excerpt from the article…

Cosby spokesman Andrew Wyatt told the Associated Press…that Cosby remains in good health despite being legally blind. He said that "many people are calling for projects for him" and that he is considering a final stand-up tour.

I can believe he's getting offers. If there's a buck to be made in this world, someone will try to make it. I doubt though he'll be back hosting shows for children or selling Jell-O Pudding Pops. And can he be crazy enough to go out and try a stand-up tour? If so, I want the concession for selling protest signs outside. And what's he going to talk about?

I've probably allowed myself to think about this man way more than I should but I've been puzzling over that question about separating the Art from the Artist. I finally decided I can't. Can't watch his TV shows. Can't listen to his records. Can't even praise him for the good he did. I'm going to try and stop thinking about him and just hope I can be satisfied with his big loss in The Court of Public Opinion.

My favorite movie, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World was released on November 7, 1963 in what were then called "roadshow engagements." This meant that it played only in big cities and only in one theater in each big city. Tickets were somewhat pricier than at your neighborhood movie house and the film might be at that big theater for many months — maybe even more than a year — before moving on to smaller theaters for smaller prices.

Tickets for roadshow presentations were handled more the way we now buy theater tickets. You usually ordered well in advance and bought tickets to sit in certain seats for a certain performance on a certain date. There was always an intermission and in the lobby, you might purchase a souvenir program book or other goodies.

Mad World opened at the Cinerama Dome on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood, a couple blocks west of Vine Street. The theater is still there, though it closed for COVID reasons and while its reopening has been rumored, that hasn't happened yet. If/When it does, I hope they run my favorite movie there again soon. I've seen it there four or five times and it's the perfect place — big screen, good sound, comfy seats…and always, an enthusiastic audience. I'm not kidding when I say that theater was built to show It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. It really was.

That, in fact, is where I saw it for the first time…on November 23, 1963. I tell people I saw it the day after Lee Harvey Oswald shot John F. Kennedy and the day before Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald. There was understandably a strange mood in that theater (and probably everywhere in the country) that night. In the Cinerama Dome, the mood lasted until the picture got going and we forgot all about the real world for over three hours. The movie was longer then than it is if you see it now.

The reviews were generally positive but a few critics complained that it could have used some cutting and a few weeks later — fortunately, after I'd seen it that first time — a lot of footage was trimmed from the film. The business guys at United Artists had always wanted it to be shorter so there could be more showings of it per day, especially when it reached those smaller theaters. Armed with those reviews, they "persuaded" producer-director Stanley Kramer to lose a number of scenes.

Mad World fans debate whether this was an improvement or a desecration. Kramer usually said he thought the film was the better for the cuts, though he regretted a few of them.

One that some of us regret is a scene, about a minute and sixteen seconds long, with Spencer Tracy on the phone to Buster Keaton. It's Captain Culpepper (Tracy) planning his getaway with Jimmie the Crook (Keaton). I can certainly make the case that the scene is unnecessary and note that it keeps the audience in a little more suspense as to whether Culpepper is actually going to go through with it.

Then again, it's Spencer Tracy and Buster Keaton.

Some film buffs feel Buster Keaton was the greatest comic actor who ever lived. I'd call it a tie between him and a few others but Buster's gotta be in my Top Five, maybe right between Stan and Ollie. I feel the same kind of tie when someone calls Mr. Tracy the best dramatic actor ever in films. How can you cut one of the only scenes ever filmed of two men with that much greatness in their field? And the other such scene, later in the film, lasts mere seconds and in it, Keaton only says three words and Tracy says two.

Its absence reduces Keaton's small role in the film to almost nothing. But it was cut…and lost. In later years when attempts were made to restore the cuts and reconstruct the original, Opening Night length of the movie, the Tracy/Keaton scene was nowhere to be found.

A few years ago, a number of folks helped make possible the restoration that is on the DVD and Blu-ray versions of It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World released by the Criterion Collection. What they issued contains two versions of the movie — the "General Release Version," which is the shorter version, and a reconstruction of the longer version. The reconstruction is not perfect but it's probably the most complete version that will ever exist. It also includes a commentary track by my pals Mike Schlesinger and Paul Scrabo, along with me. (Ordering info, if this article makes you want it, is here.)

For the Tracy/Keaton scene, the best the searchers could do was to locate a copy of the scene with almost-unwatchable video but the soundtrack was pretty much intact. So the audio was spliced into the proper space and illustrated on the DVD/Blu-ray with some production stills taken at the time. Interestingly, it is followed by a great scene that pairs two of the greatest comic actors of all time — Phil Silvers and Don Knotts.

Part of the joy of that film, I think, is seeing famous funny person after famous funny person pop up, one after the other…though of course, the fun of those discoveries really only works the first time you see it. That night in the Cinerama Dome when I first saw it, I remember noting that the first appearance of Keaton in the film was followed 90 seconds later by the first appearance of Knotts. The rhythm of that one-two punch was delightful.

If you watch the reconstruction on the Criterion set and have the commentary track on, you'll hear me describing how the video is unavailable but we have the audio…and I also describe a few other scenes in the film where still photos are standing in for lost footage. I had nothing to do with the hunt for such material or the restoration of so much that was happily restored but I still hear now and then from people who are upset that suddenly, there are stills on their screen instead of the actual footage.

Some of them simply don't grasp the concept of "The video is lost so we had to illustrate this scene with photos." One person a year ago wrote, "I don't understand this. Wouldn't it have been simpler to put in the actual scene instead of locating pictures?" Usually though, they refuse to believe the footage could not be located. Someone, they insist, just didn't try hard enough to find it.

There is this rumored collector who allegedly owns a full, complete, missing-nothing 70mm print of It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. No one has seen this print. No one knows who he is. No one knows how to reach him. Some people have heard he's in Australia but they don't know where in Australia. They also assume this alleged print is in perfect condition despite the fact that it must have been struck from the original negative in 1963 and almost all film deteriorates as years pass. Entire movies — lots of 'em — have disappeared off the face of this planet, some in a lot less time.

At the last WonderCon I attended in Anaheim, I met a fellow who claimed to be the World's Biggest Fan of this movie — a title for which he has much competition. He told me how disappointed he was with the DVD/Blu-ray set because it was "only" 99% perfect. I don't know how anyone can be disappointed with anything that's "99% perfect." Wouldn't you be thrilled with a pizza that was 99% perfect? Most things in this world fall far short of 100% and we ought be delighted with anything that gets over around the 80% mark. But some people are just like that.

This self-proclaimed World's Biggest Fan told me the 1% problem was the absence of video in those scenes and he asked me about the mythical guy in Australia with a print. I told him I didn't believe there was any such guy or any such print. "Well," he replied. "They should have held off putting the set out until they did locate that video."

I told him that might mean that the DVD/Blu-ray he loved so much might not have come out for years…if ever. He said, "I believe in life it's important to strive for perfection in everything we do." We changed subjects, talked a little more about our favorite movie and then he walked away. And so help me, he had a string of about eight squares of toilet paper stuck to one of his shoes.

I'm assuming most people who read this site also watch John Oliver. But just in case there's someone who doesn't, his show tonight took a deep dive into a topic that I think about a lot: Wrongful convictions…

• When I read Twitter, I occasionally long for the days of the 140 character limit…and sometimes wish they'd cut it down to 70.

At your local comic book shop this week — March 9, they tell me — is the trade paperback edition of Groo Meets Tarzan! This collects the four-issue mini-series of the unlikeliest crossover in the history of comics — The Lord of the Jungle, who's used to hanging out with apes, encounters a man with considerably less intelligence than any of them!

It was written by Sergio Aragonés and me. It was drawn by Sergio Aragonés and Tom Yeates. It was lettered by Stan Sakai and Adam Pruett. And it was colored by the hardest-working man in comics, Tom Luth, who upon finishing this most arduous of all assignments, decided to retire from coloring comic books. That is not a joke. He really did and we wish him well in his further endeavors. (The nice thing about coloring Groo is that once you stop doing it, absolutely any other job you get is a step up.)

This handsome paperback contains all four issues, the covers that appeared on them, the Rufferto back covers that appeared on them and a new, not-published-anywhere-else introduction written by Yours Truly. Copies may not be available on Amazon or in conventional book stores (the kind that foolishly don't carry comic books) for another month or so. For more info on where to get yours, consult this page.

And hey, while I've got you here: Various places on the Internet where one can buy copies of the mini-series — like the listing below on Amazon at this moment — will tell you that the first issue is "Book 1 of 15," the second issue is "Book 2 of 15" and so forth. There are so many laughs and moments of chilling suspense in Groo Meets Tarzan that it will probably feel like fifteen issues for most of you but we managed to cram all that into four.

So there were only four issues, not fifteen. Sergio and I intend to conduct an exhaustive investigation and find out who keeps making this mistake. This person will be severely punished right after we get through with whoever it was who didn't give this comic five stars.

I like a lot of current music but I figure the Internet has eighty zillion places where you can hear that. On this blog, I like to feature music of earlier times…especially performers who, I'm delighted to say, are still out there performing like Petula Clark or Barry Manilow.

Back in 1996, I published this article about how I went skeptically to see Mr. Manilow perform in Las Vegas and was surprised to have as good a time as I had. The audience reaction was as strong as it could be or could have been for any performer and I was very happy to be among so many people who were having the time of their lives. So did I.

Since then, I have granted permission several times to various Manilow fanzines and organizations to reprint without compensation, that article. One of them offered to arrange free V.I.P. meet-and-greet passes to see Barry the next time he played Las Vegas and I gave that person permission even though I knew he'd never come through with them…and, sure enough, he didn't.

I didn't care. Well, I did care because I'd like to go see Manilow perform again one of these days. He's still doing it! He was on stage earlier this evening at the Westgate Hotel in Vegas and I'll bet you every seat in that showroom was taken up by someone who enjoyed the hell outta what they saw and heard. (I just checked his ticket prices for his next residency there, which is in April. You can be seated in a box onstage for $330.29 per person. That includes "a glass of champagne in an exclusive Manilow champagne flute, a commemorative Barry Manilow gift and an exclusive 'Copacabana' souvenir cup" but, alas, no meet-and-greet.)

We can't be there but we can enjoy this complete video of a 1982 concert he did for Showtime. I can't figure out any way to include the champagne, the commemorative gift or a souvenir cup but look at it this way: You don't have to shell out $330.29 for a seat. All you have to do is click…

I just found and watched a few episodes of an interesting TV series. The news division of KNBC Channel 4 in Los Angeles is producing a series of short shows called I Was There When… in which their reporters relive and narate memorable (usually tragic) news events of the last few decades. So far, the episodes they have up are about (1) The O.J. Simpson Bronco Chase, (2) The 1994 Northridge Earthquake, (3) The North Hollywood Bank Shootout, (4) The Atlanta Olympic Games Bombing, (5) A Wildfire Incident, (6) The Death of Prince and (7) Kobe Bryant's Death.

You will not find these on Channel 4, though. I watched a few of them on NBCLA's app on Roku and they're said to also be available on Fire TV and Apple TV. You might find them worth the time and effort of locating a place to view them.

• What's going on in Ukraine is very sad. And so is seeing how many people in this country are concerned, not at all about how it affects the lives of the people there but only about how it affects the next election in this country.

Sorry to hear of the passing of Johnny Brown, who's remembered mainly for Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In and Good Times, but who had an impressive career on the Broadway stage and just about everywhere else. This obit will tell you some (just some) of the other things he did.

I knew Johnny Brown very, very briefly a long, long time ago. How long ago? I was hired to help him with some material he performed from the guest chair of another Johnny named Carson, back in the days when The Tonight Show emanated from New York. Mr. Brown struck me as one of those fellows who's glad to see you — glad to see everyone — and you could never catch him not being happy or smiling or just lighting up whatever room he was in at the moment.

I was never around him after that, more than a half-century ago, but I'd like to think he was that way all the time. And I'd like to think he remained that way to his dying day at age 84 last Wednesday. He was always good in everything he did.

I received a lot of e-mails about the clips posted earlier today of Petula Clark. In the second version of "Sign of the Times," one of the male dancers — the guy in the shiny red top — loses his hat at around the 1:26 mark. Tim Dunleavy says that's Michael Bennett.

A little research showed me that this was about the time Mr. Bennett was going from dancing in Broadway shows to choreographing them. The first such show for which he staged the musical numbers was A Joyful Noise, which opened on December 15, 1966 — a few months after that number — and closed twelve performances later. But before long, he did the choreography for Promises, Promises and then Coco and Company, then he started directing with Follies, A Chorus Line, Dreamgirls and others.

Tim also adds, "I saw Ms. Clark in New York on her last tour, around the same time you saw her in L.A., and she was just as tremendous as you said she was." So if you're not going to listen to me about such things, at least listen to Tim Dunleavy.

By the way, here's something worth proclaiming in capital letters: PETULA CLARK IS STILL RECORDING NEW SONGS!!! This recently came out…

And here's one she performed on last year…

And she has a new CD coming out — actually, two-CD set which includes a book. It's a restoration of the 1974 Valentine Concert she gave at London's Royal Albert Hall and it ain't cheap but I've ordered it. The cover is at the top of this item and the link to order one for yourself is here. What an amazing performer.

This is mostly about comic books but it has a little something to do with Donald Trump. These days, just about everything has at least a little something to do with Donald Trump.

Most comic books are created via a small assembly line: One person writes the script. One person draws it out in pencil. One person handles the lettering. One person finishes the pencil art in ink. One person handles the coloring. One person is the editor, coordinating all of this. Sometimes, one person does two or more of these things and sometimes, there's a slightly different division of the labor. But this is roughly how it works.

Sometimes, these people get along well together and all respect each other's contributions. Sometimes, they don't like what the others do but they don't all have the clout or opportunity to adjust things more to their liking. This was especially true of the creative talents who did comics before around 1990 and especially of those who grew up in the Great Depression. Jack Kirby, for example, had a great respect for the other guy's need to make a living even if he didn't know the other guy. So if he thought the inker hired to embellish his pencil art was not the greatest, he often said nothing.  He also didn't then think inking mattered that much, though he would later change his mind about that.

Only once or twice in his long career, did he politely ask if an inker could be switched to some other project. To the best of my knowledge, there were only two times when he insisted on a change and even those were after making sure that the inkers in question would get other work and not lose income.

Many of Jack's fellow artists were unhappy with the skills or casting of their collaborators — pencilers who disliked what their inkers did and inkers who didn't care for the pencil art assigned to them — and some in their later years were a bit more vocal about this. I've interviewed most of the artists who drew for DC or Marvel between, oh, about 1960 and 1985. Often, I've interviewed them at comic book conventions in rooms that held hundreds of their fans.  Whether I ask Penciler A about it or not, it comes out that he really disliked what was done to his artwork when it was finished by Inker B.  And sometimes, the feeling was mutual.

And what has happened a number of times when such an statement has made its way into print or online has been that some lover of that work refuses to believe it.

I have been accused of fabricating the quote or of somehow poisoning the mind of Penciler A about Inker B or there has to be some sort of typo or transcription error. The accuser loves that work so much that he refuses to believe Penciler A said any such thing.

Maybe I drugged the guy and made him my hypnotic slave but…well, I'll give you an example.  Three times, I interviewed longtime Marvel artist John Buscema, whose work there was inked by dozens of different inkers over the years.  Each chat we had — and I believe he said this in other interviews, as well — Mr. Buscema stated that he liked the inking done on his pencil art by his brother Sal and he liked the inking done by Frank Giacoia…and apart from himself, he didn't like anybody else.  Once or twice, he specifically named inkers who he thought were either spectacular mismatches for his style or were spectacularly lacking in talent.

There's a fellow who writes me about every six months about this.  I've been ignoring his last few e-mails but will excerpt from the most recent…

The first time I wrote you about this, you assured me Buscema felt that way about Alfredo Alcala inking him and you referred me to a published interview.  I still do not believe this.  Yes, my eyes read the interview but my eyes also see the supreme beauty of Conan as penciled by John Buscema and inked by Alfredo Alcala.  It is obviously not only the best artwork that ever bore Buscema's credit but some of the best comic art ever published.  Every panel is a masterpiece.  Every figure is perfect.  There is no way John Buscema was not thrilled with every bit of it no matter what some obviously-phony interview says.

Now, understand: I am not debating the merits of Buscema/Alcala work.  I rather liked it myself and if someone didn't…well, they're entitled to their opinion even if they aren't John Buscema. But he was entitled to his too and it's a fact, not an opinion, that he said what he said.  Neither I nor anyone else has any motive to fake this.

I also liked when Carmine Infantino's or Gil Kane's art was inked by Murphy Anderson but it's a fact that none of those three men were happy with those marriages and many others.  Gil Kane didn't like most of his inkers although many of his fans loved certain pairings.

I'm kinda amazed by how much denial there is about this.

• I would give up vodka to show support for Ukraine but I'd have to take up drinking first and I don't want to do that. Can I just give up Russian Dressing?

My mixtape had a lot of Petula Clark on it. We've already covered "My Love" and I think in the next few installments, I'll get through all the other appearances Ms. Clark made on my tape. This is "Sign of the Times," which was initially recorded as part of an album featuring (and entitled) "My Love." "Sign of the Times" was released as a single in March of '66 after she introduced it on (where else?) The Ed Sullivan Show on February 27, 1966. Here is that appearance…

It was a big enough hit that she returned to Ed's stage and performed it again on August 14 of that year, this time with dancers, choreography and costuming that my friend Shelly Goldstein will love…

Wikipedia quotes Petula as saying of it, "I loved it. It had a slightly different feel. 'A Sign of the Times,' I suppose you might expect some big political statement or something, but it was just a straight-ahead love song. I think Tony [Hatch, its writer/producer] rather liked finding titles that made you think, like 'Don't Sleep in the Subway.' People would think, is it about drugs? Is it about this? And these were just straightforward songs. I like 'Sign of the Times.' I think it's a good song."

In 2018, Shelly and I went to see Petula Clark perform an amazing live show at the age of 86. Yes, she sang "Sign of the Times" and yes, she sounded just like she did on the Sullivan show…and yes, it's a good song.

I edited the previous item to remove a line I wrote about how Shirley Jones and Herschel Bernardi were doing their respective new TV shows in Los Angeles and The Ed Sullivan Show was done in New York. I removed it because this morning, many an e-mail reminded me that this particular Ed Sullivan Show was done at the Hollywood Bowl out here.

I dunno how that didn't occur to me when I was typing that because I knew it. I'd even been thinking about how it was like in the movie of Bye Bye Birdie, the Russian ballet and the kissing of Ann-Margret on The Ed Sullivan Show were part of a live remote from Ohio. Sometimes, I shouldn't be blogging when I'm too tired.

Also this morning, I received this from Matthew Harris…

I suppose coincidences like these really aren't that surprising.

I've just begun Clive Davis' memoir (and am enjoying it). Last night I read the chapter about Janis Joplin and about the time that Clive asked Richard Rodgers into his office to listen to something. He played Joplin's version of Gershwin's "Summertime." Clive was quite smitten with Janis & thought her take on the classic might impress Richard. Rodgers listened and said nothing. Clive then decided to play "Piece of My Heart." After 90 seconds Rodgers told him to stop the tape & railed against it all. Couldn't understand how people could listen to this & said if he had to write music like this his career was over.

I must be honest and say that I don't think about Richard Rodgers every day.

Richard Rodgers apparently did…and not every day but every second. Various books do not make him out to be that nice a man…or particularly fond of anything that wasn't written by Richard Rodgers. But I don't think it's that uncommon for anyone — a composer or not — to favor one particular kind of music over all others. We all have styles we don't care for and some of us have more than most.

And I recall Mel Tormé in one of his books scorning Rodgers for not liking the way he [Tormé] sang certain tunes from the Rodgers-and-Hart or Rodgers-and-Hammerstein catalogues. I read that and I didn't think it was so awful that the composer of a song thought there was a "right" way to sing it. No one kicked when Neil Simon didn't like the way one of his lines was delivered. One should be open to different interpretations but that doesn't mean they're all acceptable. Or that I have to like Reggae music.

From the same Ed Sullivan Show saluting Richard Rodgers, we have another (short) number from The King and I, performed by Shirley Jones and Herschel Bernardi. Again, Mr. Bernardi looks for all the world like a man born of royal blood in Thailand…

Jeff Cook, a reader of this site, wrote that he was puzzled by the casting choice here. When this show was done — 11/22/70 — Ms. Jones was starring in The Partridge Family, which had recently debuted on ABC and Herschel Bernardi was starring in Arnie, which had recently debuted on CBS. Why take those performers away from their new shows?

Good question and I'll bet the answer was Richard Rodgers. He was notorious for being very fussy how his songs were performed. I once heard Merv Griffin talk about a time on his old show when they decided to do a salute to the composer and they rounded up some very famous entertainers to come on and sing his tunes. Rodgers rejected most of them, insisting on lesser-known performers who sang his songs "right."

I don't know that Rodgers had any history with Bernardi. That may have been CBS wanting to give some exposure to their new star. But Rodgers loved Shirley Jones and always cited her as a singer who did his songs the way he wanted them done. I'm thinking he demanded her and she may have done it to remind the world that she could sing the kind of songs she wasn't singing on her new series.