Even as a number of Broadway shows are canceling performances (or closing altogether) for COVID reasons, The Music Man starring Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster has started previewing. It's supposed to lead up to a February 10 opening night but these days, I don't think any "prediction" is solid.

Am I a tremendous fan of The Music Man, Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster? You bet your shipoopi I am! So I should have tickets and plans for a New York trip…but I don't. It's that COVID thing and there's a very good chance I'll never see this production…or if I do, it'll be a national touring company with Scott Baio and the lady who plays Flo in the Progressive Insurance Company commercials.

As sacrifices go, it's a wee one. I wonder if all these folks who want to put Broadway-style musical comedy on prime-time TV have thought about doing this one.

Here's a few seconds from a recent preview performance…just the moment on the train in Scene 1 where when the traveling salesmen get finished talking about what a scoundrel "Professor" Harold Hill is, then discover he's been among them all the time…

I don't think they should have named the new strain of coronavirus "Omicron." I think someone should have figured out the Latin translation of "Ha! You thought it was almost over but it isn't!" Me, I'm sticking with my policy of not believing anyone's predictions about where this thing is going or when.

For now, I'm also sticking with my policy of not committing to where I'm going or when. I just respectfully declined invites to be a guest at two separate comic-type conventions in 2022. It's not necessarily that I think it would be a huge mistake to say yes. It's more like I don't want to spend every day for months wondering if I made a huge mistake saying yes.

I did say yes to WonderCon in Anaheim (April 1 thru 3) and Comic-Con International in San Diego (July 21-24) but (a) those don't involve getting on an airplane and (b) we'll see if they both happen and if so, if I feel safe about attending. I also decided firmly that there will not be a big 70th birthday party for me next March. Someone wanted to organize one but I like all my friends too much to make them fret about whether they should go to such a thing.

It has been suggested I remind you that I've found a really terrific mask…which is to say it works great on my face. Your face, you lucky individual, is different from mine so it might not work well for you. But it might. It's the 3M Aura N95 Model 9205 and you may also be able to find their Model 9210 which is just about identical.  They ain't the cheapest but when your life could be at stake, do you really want the cheapest?

It covers my nose and mouth just fine and unlike other masks I tried, it makes a tight-but-comfy seal under my chin. I also like that it doesn't hook around my ears. It has two elastic bands that fit around my whole, otherwise-useless head. And even though they describe it as disposable, I'm getting an awful lot of facetime out of one before I eventually dispose of it. Whether it'll be as good for you as it is for me, I can't say but if you wanna give it a try, here's an Amazon link.

Nicholas "Nick" Georgiade, the last surviving regular cast member of The Untouchables TV show died last Sunday in Las Vegas at the age of 88. He was also one of the two last surviving cast members of It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World to have a speaking part. He played the policeman, seen above at left, who was working with Norman Fell's character to tail Smiler Grogan (Jimmy Durante).

Georgiade was best known as Enrico Rossi, sidekick to Elliot Ness (Robert Stack) on The Untouchables when it aired from 1959 to 1963 on ABC and forever after in reruns.  The story is that one of his fellow cast members on that series, Paul Picerni, was originally cast in the role in Mad World but had to drop out due to a schedule conflict.  When he did, he recommended Georgiade, who was hired for what you'd think, seeing the film, was a one-day part.

But when interviewed years after, Georgiade said he spent several weeks working on the picture, waiting to shoot other scenes which didn't make it into the final cut.  He also said that he loved the whole experience, hanging around with so many fine comedians.

This makes Barrie Chase the last surviving cast member with a speaking part in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.  She (of course) played Mrs. Halliburton, the bikini-clad lady who did the memorable dance scene with Dick Shawn.

This should be the next-to-last part of this article. Once again, if you haven't read Parts I through V, it would be wise of you to click this link which will whisk you to Part I…and from there, it will be a simple matter for you to find your way back to this chapter.

---

Two more men were key to establishing the "new look" for the Batman comics. Julius Schwartz's stable of freelancers included Joe Giella and Sid Greene, two artists who would be deployed mostly as inkers. Giella had been primarily an inker for some time. Greene's career at DC had been as an artist who penciled and inked but after Schwartz lost Mystery in Space and Strange Adventures, Greene found himself mostly being offered work inking other artists.

Neither man was the kind of inker to just trace what the pencil artist put there in pencil. Both inked Schwartz's three main pencilers — Carmine Infantino, Gil Kane and Mike Sekowsky. With Giella or Greene aboard, the end product rarely looked a lot like Infantino, Kane or Sekowsky. Giella especially approached pages penciled by others using an eraser as much as he used brush, pen and ink. This was never out of laziness. He might add as much as he omitted. He might redraw where he felt he could improve on what the penciler put down.

Editors might tell either inker (or any inker with such tendencies) to retain as much of the penciler's style as possible in certain situations but Schwartz did not tell that to Giella or Greene. Rather, he said he was counting on them to make the pencil art Bob Kane handed in less like Bob Kane art — less cartoony, more realistic and generally darker with more shadows. This was the art that was actually done wholly by Sheldon Moldoff but, as noted, most folks at DC either didn't know Moldoff was working on it, thought Kane was doing some of it or just decided not to ask for trouble and ask who was responsible for it.

After years of drawing roughly the way Kane might have drawn the comics himself since 1953, Moldoff felt lost. It was like "Draw it like Bob Kane but if Bob was drawing in a style he never drew in" and Moldoff hated the job. For one thing, it took longer to pencil a page that way but no raise in pay accompanied the new marching orders. For another, Schwartz asked for way more redraws than Schiff had ever demanded on the "old look" pages. He asked Kane and then Shelly had to do them…with at least one famous exception which Julie Schwartz described once on a panel I hosted at Comic-Con…

One time when Bob Kane dropped off pages, I asked him for a quick revision on one panel. Batman was punching someone and I wanted it to be a Marvel-style punch with a big fist coming right out at the reader. Bob said, "Okay, I'll take the page home and fix it and get it back to you tomorrow." By now, I knew he was going to have some assistant redo it so I decided to have a little fun with him. I said, "No, I need to send this story off to the letterer right away. Just sit down at a drawing table down the hall and redo the panel. He was turning pale. He said, "No, I need my own drawing table and my own art supplies to work." I said, "Come on. It's just one fist. The great Bob Kane should be able to knock that out in two minutes."

I kept after him until he finally agreed to do it. He took the page and went off down the hall to where there were some drawing tables for artists to work at. It took a half-hour or so but he finally came back with the page and the fist was perfect. He did a real good job. I was impressed until later, I found out what happened. He sat there for twenty minutes, erasing and redrawing, erasing and redrawing. Finally, he paid Murphy Anderson ten bucks to redraw it for him.

The "Bob Kane" art done by Shelly Moldoff for the new order was awkward but adequate, I guess. Let's say "barely adequate." It definitely was not the old style but it was not very organic. Shelly was no longer drawing like Bob Kane but he wasn't drawing like Shelly Moldoff either. He got a lot of help from the inks by Giella or Greene.

It was nowhere as fine as what Carmine Infantino was doing on the covers and on the stories that Kane had nothing to do with. Infantino's Batman had great movement and charismatic poses. Batman moved like Batman, not just like any old guy in a bat-costume. And Infantino "told" the stories — especially the ones by John Broome — very well. Most importantly, the Batman stories in Detective Comics (where Infantino alternated with "Kane") looked like today instead of like reprints from the Batman comics your father might have purchased when he was your age.

It was an exciting time to be a kid reading those comics. I'll tell you about that in our final chapter tomorrow. It starts with me going to the comic book rack at Pico Drug, the store near my home, on Thursday, March 26, 1964.

Click here to jump to PART SEVEN

Here's the current draft of this year's "TCM Remembers" video. I say that because in years past, if someone of note in the movie community dies after that video comes out but before January 1, they go and edit him or her in. One hopes that will not be necessary this year.

My dear sweet Betty Lynn is in there…in a clip I believe they took from her 1948 film, June Bride. And yes, I know her belongings are being auctioned now. I even recognize some of the items.

I guess it's time to start with the Christmas music videos. Here from 1953, Gayla Peevey lip-syncs her record which then a big seller…

This is running longer than I'd expected but hang in there. We'll get through it before Christmas. If you're joining us in progress, go back and read from the beginning. This link will take you to Part One and from there, it'll be a cinch to find your way through other chapters.

---

When DC did that editor-swap, there was one casualty — or what a number of readers felt was a casualty. Jack Schiff took over editing Mystery in Space from Julius Schwartz.  Its contents would henceforth be done by the freelance writers and artists Schiff employed instead of the ones Schwartz had employed. World of difference. Instead of having its lead feature Adam Strange written by Gardner Fox and drawn by Carmine Infantino, it was written by Dave Wood and drawn by Lee Elias.

Wood and Elias had done fine work on other comics but Fox/Infantino was a hard act to follow and the change in the feature was jarring.  It wasn't at all the same strip and it wouldn't be long before Mr. Strange was no longer appearing in Mystery in Space. And not long after that, there was no Mystery in Space. The Strange Adventures comic, which Schiff also took over from Schwartz, only fared a little better…and before long, Mr. Schiff retired or was retired.

Fox and Infantino were busy helping Schwartz retool the Batman comics. In fact, Infantino turned out to be the key to upgrading the artwork in them, giving Batman a "new look" and having the comic look like it was drawn in the sixties instead of a decade or two before.

As you may recall, DC had a firm contract with Bob Kane to produce pencil art for most of the Batman stories that ran in the Batman comic and Detective Comics, and Kane jobbed that task out to Sheldon Moldoff. Moldoff was as good as most guys who'd drawn adventure-type comics in the forties and fifties but unlike many of them, his style had not evolved. It wasn't supposed to. He was supposed to draw like Bob Kane did, way back when Bob Kane had actually drawn (with a fair amount of help) Batman comics. That was why he picked Moldoff.

When Schwartz and others at DC told Kane that a change in artwork was necessary for Batman's sales, he said no at first. He liked the idea that everyone (well, most people) thought he was drawing all those comics and that was how he drew even though he wasn't drawing it. He probably, to them, kept up the fiction that he still did, albeit with assistants.

And what I'm telling you in this part here is what Kane told me when I spent some time with him when I was 16 years old. Some members of our comic book club got to go and visit him in an apartment he was then renting on Wilshire Boulevard near Westwood. We interviewed him for several hours and then he invited me back for a separate visit.

This was because I seemed to know more about comic book history than my friends did and because I was interested in writing and maybe even a little drawing.  Kane, I came to realize, was interested in seeing if I could be of any possible use to him as a ghost of some sort.  So he had me bring samples of my work and he eventually told me I had no future as either a writer or an artist. I more or less agreed with him even then about the artist part but I've been making my living as a professional writer now for 52 years.

In that one-on-one afternoon chat, Kane told me his life story and about what a prick or idiot every single person at DC Comics was. This was his opinion and it was not said dead sober. We were both drinking throughout — ginger ale for me, vodka for him — and boy, do I wish I'd had a tape recorder running. Still, I remember an awful lot of it…like how he kept referring to the men who had actually done Batman art as his "assistants," not his "ghosts."  This included men who'd done 100% of the work on those pages. It even included artists Kane had never met who'd been hired directly by DC to do Batman stories in excess of what his contract called for him to provide.

He said that he at first he resisted the idea of a "new look" Batman. The art style, he said, was part of the comic. Dick Tracy was a strip drawn by Chester Gould. Li'l Abner was a strip drawn by Al Capp. Steve Canyon was a strip draw by Milton Caniff. If the creator didn't draw it, someone else drew it in his style. (All of Kane's reference points were comic strips, not comic books…which made sense. When he was a kid thinking about becoming a cartoonist, his heroes were the strip guys. There were no comic book artists to admire then and certainly no one who got rich and/or famous in comic books.)

He also pointed out that when Alex Raymond (one of his biggest heroes, he said) died in a car accident, the syndicate didn't give his strip, Rip Kirby a "new look." They hired John Prentice, an artist whose work was to many, indistinguishable from Raymond's. "That," he said, "is how it's supposed to work."

Two things changed his mind, one being that they convinced him Batman might be in real sales trouble.  The last thing Bob Kane wanted was to see the Batman comics get canceled and/or the character become a minor property.  And the second thing was this: His contract with DC, as mentioned, allowed them to hire other artists to draw Batman stories as long as the work was signed "Bob Kane."  They'd been doing this for years, employing guys like Jim Mooney and Dick Sprang.

Most stories that Kane handed in — the ones Moldoff actually drew — were inked by Charles Paris but DC also hired Sheldon Moldoff to ink some of them. The stories drawn by Mooney or Sprang or Curt Swan were inked by Paris or Moldoff and they didn't look that different and most readers weren't like me. Most readers didn't notice the difference so the fiction that it was all drawn by Kane went unpunctured.

But DC had the right to hire anyone they chose to draw the Batman pages that didn't come from Kane, and Schwartz would be having them drawn by Carmine Infantino, Infantino was an artist who didn't draw like Kane, an artist whose work was known and recognizable to a lot of the readers. That would puncture the fiction. Kane realized that readers would say, "Bob Kane didn't draw that. That's Carmine Infantino!" Infantino would also be drawing the covers — he was probably the best guy DC had when it came to cover designs — and Kane decided he was trapped.

All he could do was (1) agree to waive the contractual "Bob Kane" signature on the stories Infantino drew and (2) try to have "Bob Kane" (i.e., Moldoff) draw in the more modern style DC wanted. The new fiction would be that Bob Kane was modernizing his approach on the stories he did. And with that, DC was poised to launch its "new look" for Detective Comics and Batman — as will be discussed here in the next (and probably next-to-last) part of this article.

Click here to jump to PART SIX

Everybody should watch this. It's Dr. Jon LaPook, CBS's chief medical correspondent, explaining what is and isn't known about Omicron…

I love photos of old Las Vegas and my pal Anthony Tollin just sent me this link to a nice online gallery of some. You'll see in there a shot of the Desert Inn dated around 1950. That's where my parents got married on March 3, 1951.

"Mrs. Robinson" was one of several songs by Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel that came outta nowhere and was suddenly being played 24/7 on every local radio station with a format that could accommodate it. I do not recall knowing at first that it was from a movie that had been released a few months before. I didn't get around to seeing The Graduate until it was playing as the bottom half of double features at local movie houses.

It was catchy the first dozen-or-so times we heard it. But since you heard it so relentlessly coming out of radios — yours and those of folks around you — we all got sick of it in a week to ten days. I remember not understanding some of the lyrics and discussing them with friends who didn't understand them either. Neither, I guess, did a man mentioned in the song. I stole this off Wikipedia…

References in the last verse to Joe DiMaggio are perhaps the most discussed. Simon, a fan of Mickey Mantle, was asked during an intermission on The Dick Cavett Show why Mantle was not mentioned in the song instead of DiMaggio. Simon replied, "It's about syllables, Dick. It's about how many beats there are." Simon happened to meet DiMaggio at a New York City restaurant in the 1970s, and the two immediately discussed the song. DiMaggio said "What I don't understand, is why you ask where I've gone. I just did a Mr. Coffee commercial, I'm a spokesman for the Bowery Savings Bank and I haven't gone anywhere!"

It seemed to me that the success of the song encouraged a lot of filmmakers to incorporate new, contemporary potential song hits into their movies…and encouraged recording artists to enter into such arrangements. The movie plugged the record and the record plugged the movie…and Joe DiMaggio.

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.

The next part of the Batman article will appear here tomorrow. Mark's too tired to finish it tonight.

I spent a delightful hour this afternoon guesting on Sid Krofft's weekly Sunday afternoon video podcast on Instagram. If you wanna watch it, I think this link will show it to you.

A screener DVD of Being the Ricardos showed up in my mailbox yesterday and I watched it last night. Didn't love it, didn't hate it. Some folks seem irate that Aaron Sorkin "fictionalized" Lucy, Desi, Bill Frawley, Vivian Vance, several writers and others, putting words they never said — and probably feelings they never had — into their mouths. Whether that should be done at all is a long argument that involves lots of examples.

The thought did occur to me though that Sorkin did nothing to the folks depicted in this movie that wasn't done to the lawmen and gangsters depicted for four seasons of the Untouchables TV series…executive produced by Desi Arnaz. The offspring of Mr. and Mrs. Arnaz have not only endorsed this new movie but served as its Executive Producers. So if they're not upset it was made, I'm not going to be upset it was made.

And yes, history had been revised and compressed and altered a lot. Every movie that depicts real events does this. My problem with Stan & Ollie, you may recall, was not so much that they tampered but that they created fake conflicts. In real life, Laurel and Hardy did not have fights like they did in the film. In real life, Lucy and Desi did fight a lot and they eventually ended the marriage.

So that didn't bother me a lot. Overall, I'd say I was a little more bothered by the anachronisms and tiny errors…like saying they were "taping" I Love Lucy at a time when shows were filmed, not taped. Or producer Jess Oppenheimer describing himself as "the showrunner." That noun was used to describe Aaron Sorkin when he did The West Wing in 1997. It was never used in the TV business in in earlier decades. There were a number of these and they would have been so simple to catch and release.

No, I think the reason I didn't love the film was that it was 125 minutes of mostly unhappy people arguing with each other. There didn't seem to be much upside or joy to starring in the #1 TV show in the country. Sorkin crammed a lot of events that occurred over several weeks into one week. That might have been okay but it means he crammed all the related arguments and anger and this person trying to control that person into one week and for me, that was just a little too much unpleasantness.

There were moments I liked and some stellar performances. Acting Oscars here and there would not surprise me. But what I got out of this movie — and I'm not saying this is actually true — is that it was no fun working on I Love Lucy or Being [Around] the Ricardos.

This is to remind everyone, myself included, that I will be a guest this afternoon on Sid Krofft's weekly Sunday afternoon video podcast. You should really be watching all of these because Sid, who with his brother Marty gave us H.R. Pufnstuf, Lidsville, Donnie & Marie, The Bugaloos, Pink Lady, The Brady Bunch Variety Show, The Krofft Supershow, Pryor's Place, Land of the Lost and so many more, is one of the most amazing human beings I have met in my years in show biz. He's also a wonderful, delightful man.

He does these shows every Sunday on Instagram. To watch — today or any time — go to Instagram and find Sid's page, which I think can be done by searching for "sidkrofft." If you do, I'll see you there at 3:00 PM West Coast Time.