Scrappy Days

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CHAPTER ONE

People ask me if I knew at the time I was contributing to the creation of a such a hated thing as Scrappy Doo. No, I didn't and no, I still don't. I am aware that there are some folks out there who, given the choice of seeing the execution of Osama bin Laden or Scrappy Doo, would opt for Scrappy and wonder why you even had to ask. Such people are, I believe, a fairly recent faction, and I don't think they're as widespread as their noise level would indicate. I recall Scrappy being wildly popular the first few years he was on the scene. He certainly bolstered Scooby's ratings and kept the series on a good 2-3 years longer than it would have lasted without him.

Scrappy debuted on the Scooby Doo program in 1979 as a "new element." Scooby had been on the air for some time by then and the narrow formula of the series had become repetitive to the point where ABC was considering cancellation. One of the very real concerns was whether the writers could come up with the thirteen requisite ghost premises to do another thirteen episodes. Let me tell you how you sold a script to the Scooby Doo series in those days.

You'd go to the producer or the story editor and say something like, "How about a ghost who's an aardvark and he's been haunting ant farms?"

The producer or story editor would consult a list of all the episodes produced to date, and there was about a 95% chance he'd look up from it and say, "Did it in Season Four" or whatever season it had been in. Sometimes, they'd say, "Did it in Seasons Two, Four, Five and I have one in the works right now, same idea." But if you lucked into something in the 5% category, you had an assignment…even if you didn't have a clue who the aardvark would be when he took off his mask or why he was haunting ant farms. Didn't matter. You or someone else could figure that stuff out later. You'd done the hard part.

In setting the schedule for that year, it had come down to a decision between renewing Scooby or picking up a new series — the pilot script for which I'd written — from another studio. Joe Barbera called me in and said, approximately, "If this doesn't work, Scooby's dead. We have this new character that I came up with…" And he showed me sketches of Scrappy Doo, explaining that this was Scooby's nephew. We would add him to the show and this would make things just "fresh" enough, while still keeping the winning Scooby formula intact, that ABC would order thirteen more episodes. And thirteen more for the season after that, and then there would be the season after that…

I was not then on staff at Hanna-Barbera. Quite a few writers were and most of them had taken a shot in the previous months at writing scenes or an entire episode to establish Scrappy. The folks at the network liked very little of what they'd done and were not about to green-light Scooby for another year; not without a finished teleplay that would show how Scrappy functioned, how he talked, where the comedy in the show would be with him around, etc. J.B. wanted me to write that episode. Even though it was competing with that other pilot I'd written, I said I'd do it. It was always very difficult to say no to Mr. Barbera.

The next thing that occurred was an unusually ugly negotiation between my agent and the gent in charge of Business Affairs for Hanna-Barbera. The latter took the position that this was not a pilot; that it was just another episode of Scooby Doo, so it should pay the same mediocre fee as all other episodes. My agent took the position that this was a pilot because (a) it was introducing a new character and something of a new format and (b) the network would or would not order episodes based on my script. I would also be going through several weeks of network meetings and extra rewrites, something that did not usually transpire on your average episode. Therefore, he concluded, it was a pilot and better pay was appropriate. The Biz Guy said no. My agent said, "In that case, Mark isn't doing it."

The Biz Guy said fine, Mark isn't doing it…or anything else for the studio, ever again. This was followed by the sound effect of the phone being slammed down. Then the Business Affairs guy called me at home and informed me that my days of writing for Hanna-Barbera were over. In fact, I should not bother trying to set foot in the studio again as I would be turned away. I pointed out to him that Scooby or no Scooby, I was still the editor of their comic book division. He said, "We'll see about that" and hung up.

Sure enough, I was banned from the studio for a good eighteen minutes, which is how long it was before Mr. Barbera phoned. He instructed me to — and I will clean up his language here a tad — "pay no attention to that damn idiot in Business Affairs." Before the sun set that evening, I had a deal to write the script that would introduce Scrappy Doo. The pay was sufficient (barely, of course) and there would be a small bonus if the show was picked up. The next day, I was to meet Mr. B. at the Villa Capri restaurant in Hollywood so we could brainstorm ideas over lunch.

Today's Video Link

Here are two commercials that Hanna-Barbera produced in the early sixties — one for Bardahl gas additive and one for Lion Gas. The voices in the Bardahl spot are Jerry Hausner, Gary Owens (as Bardahl himself) and at least one someone else. Nominations are welcome. The voices in the Lion Gas spot appear to be Henry Corden as the Frenchman and Shep Menken as the lion. The sputterings of the car engine sure sound like Mel Blanc but I find it hard to believe H-B would have paid Mel to come in and do them…and if you were paying Mel to come in, why not have him do one (or all) of the speaking voices? So maybe they lifted the sounds of him off some other track or maybe someone else did a great impression of Mel's automotive sounds. We report, you decide…

Supervising Superman

Larry Tye (Hi, Larry!) writes an interesting essay about the origins and enduring popularity of Superman. I might take issue with one thing he says in it…

If [Superman] thrived in the hands of a couple of Jewish kids from the ghetto, he should flourish backed by the muscle of Time Warner, one of the world's biggest media cartels, which would be mad to let its billion-dollar franchise languish.

No matter what the Supreme Court says, corporations are not people and they certainly are not creators. A couple of Jewish kids from the ghetto or some writer who acts as their successor can have a clever, incisive vision for what constitutes a good story. A corporation can, at best, employ a human being to provide that…and the property will only be as good or valuable (in a non-monetary sense as well as a monetary one) as the sensitivity and creativity of that person.

The problem that occurs far too often with corporate-owned characters is not that the company designates the wrong person to be in charge but that they designate no one. No one who wishes to endure and rise up in that company wants to lose whatever control he or she can manage to have over an important company asset so they do not cede this power. Bloody battles are fought within the halls of Time Warner over who controls Superman, who controls Batman, who controls Bugs Bunny, etc.

I had this friend named Greg Burson who was one of the people (the best, I thought) who did the voice of Bugs after Mel Blanc died. Every time a different division there needed the voice of Bugs for a cartoon or a commercial or a toy or something, Greg had to go in and audition. Why did he have to keep auditioning when there were plenty of examples of him doing Bugs for major Time Warner projects? For that matter, why wasn't one person the new voice of Bugs? Why were there about eight who all were called in to audition?

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Because the guy in charge of each Bugs project wanted to be in charge of Bugs. He wanted control of Bugs and you can't be in control if you're just going along with what was decided by the guy in the office down the hall who also wanted control of Bugs. Greg swore to me that one time, he lost a Bugs job and the guy told him, "You were the best but I'm trying to convince them that I know Bugs better than this other executive…and he's the one who chose you in the first place." It's like that with Superman, too. Everybody in the firm thinks they know what's best for Superman and that there is great career advancement to be had in asserting that.

The classic, universally-understood concept of Superman will endure forever. Whether the current Superman comic books or movies or TV shows or videogames deliver that depends on whether they're written by and/or managed by someone who understands that concept. On a movie or TV show, it's more or less understood that there has to be one person — or at best, an in-sync team — who is the ultimate arbiter of what's right and wrong for the project; someone who has both the contractual and moral authority to say, "No, our hero wouldn't do that."

It's bad enough when that one person is wrong. It's even worse when that one person is fifteen different people. They can be deadlier than Kryptonite — the green kind, not the others.

My Tweets from Yesterday

  • Defeated FL rep Allen West keeps comparing himself to Abe Lincoln and there is a similarity: Neither one will ever again be elected. 10:29:01
  • Hard to believe there are people out there who think we should feel real sorry for Mitt Romney. 18:27:58
  • Observe! In my next tweet, I will do the impossible and tweet something with more than 140 characters… 18:29:45
  • Mel Blanc. 18:29:53

Today's Video Link

Here's about six minutes from a 1966 Jack Benny TV special. Benny had a half-hour series on CBS from the early fifties until he and his managers made a fatal mistake. They'd been airing on Tuesday nights, back-to-back with Red Skelton's hour-long program and the combo had been strong in the ratings. In early 1963 when the Fall schedule was announced, they discovered that CBS had moved Benny a half-hour later and inserted a new show, a sitcom, between him and Red.

Benny was upset that CBS had made this decision without consulting or informing him, and advance word on this new show was not promising. It was a rural comedy called Petticoat Junction starring a member of his old stock company from radio, Bea Benaderet. Benny loved her but didn't think she could carry a series and he became convinced the change would cost him much of his audience. NBC had made occasional inquiries as to whether he would like to jump networks and he decided the time to do that was before his ratings declined on CBS…so his manager Irving Fein negotiated a deal. Benny would do the Fall '63 season for CBS, then move to NBC as of the following year. As you might imagine, CBS was not happy with this.

Neither was Benny when Petticoat Junction turned out to be a big hit. Following Ms. Benaderet's show, he got some of the highest ratings he'd ever had in television. Then when he moved to NBC, CBS slotted another new rural sitcom — Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. — opposite him and he got killed and cancelled. If he'd stayed at CBS, he would probably have had his weekly series as long as Skelton had his, which was until 1970. (Skelton then moved to NBC also…and also only did one more year.)

After his NBC show went off, Benny appeared in a series of one-hour specials for them…about one a year until his death in 1974. This segment is from what I believe was his second special for them. I further believe the actor playing the stagehand is Bill Baldwin, who was the show's announcer and one of those men whose voice you heard everywhere in the sixties. And shortly after he exits, who should enter but a man with an even more ubiquitous voice?!

As you well know, the great Mel Blanc was in a horrible auto accident in January of 1961. At first, it looked like would not survive his injuries. Then it looked like he would but would never walk again. He beat that prediction, too. Sooner than anyone expected, he was back doing voiceover work — at first, from his home hospital-type bed and then going to actual recording studios. By late '64 (I believe), he was even appearing on TV occasionally again. I think the first time was on Benny's NBC series. They did the "Sí, Sy" routine and I remember a vast amount of joy at seeing him unexpectedly turn up on that episode. I also remember noting that he was seated throughout and the next few times I saw him on TV, he was also seated. Didn't walk, didn't even stand.

He may have worked on his feet on other shows before this one but I think this was the first time I saw that. He not only walks in and stands for the entire routine, he does a bit of a dance in there and gets a big laugh doing it. He also carries in a huge bass which he obviously had no idea how to play.

I thought this was a funny spot but more than that, I remember a feeling of delight that Mel Blanc seemed to have pretty much recovered from that terrible accident. I didn't know the man then but ever since I became aware of who was speaking for Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Barney Rubble and so many other characters I loved, I felt a certain kinship to the guy and it was great to see him up and around…

VIDEO MISSING

How I Met George Jetson

Fifty years ago tonight, The Jetsons debuted on ABC. It has been a long time since I looked forward to any TV show the way I used to look forward to them when I was ten. Some of that is youthful enthusiasm. Some of it is that my world has grown a lot larger since so no broadcast — including those of programs I write — is that important to my life. And of course, some of it is the technology of VCRs and TiVo which has made the when of seeing a show insignificant. If I wanted to experience the first telecast of a new Hanna-Barbera series, I had to be there at the appointed hour. If I wasn't…well, who knows when or if there'd be another opportunity?

"There" in this case was not in front of the family TV at home. It could have been but The Jetsons was the first series on ABC to be broadcast in color and we didn't have a color TV set. Not everyone did then…but Mrs. Hollingsworth did.

Mrs. Hollingsworth was an elderly widow who lived five doors down from us with a cat and no one else. She was a sweet little old lady, at least towards me, but she had some odd ideas. One I remember discussing with her a few times was her belief that actors on TV had to be a lot like the characters they played. She didn't believe that Vincent Price (to pick but one example she'd cite) was really a mad scientist who tortured women in his castle…but he simply couldn't play such parts if he wasn't at heart an evil, cruel human being. Those articles that said he was a lovely, gentle man had to be lies. Years later when I worked with the lovely, gentle Vincent Price, I told him about Mrs. Hollingsworth and he chuckled and said, "There are more people out there who think like that than you imagine."

TV was about all she had in her life so she'd spent the then-extravagant sum of few hundred extra to have a color set. It seemed like a luxury in 1960 since not a lot of TV programming was even broadcast in color so most of what she watched on that set was in black-and-white. She agreed to let me come down to her home that evening to watch The Jetsons there.

Since she lived alone, she didn't eat well. Whenever we had a holiday dinner at our home — Thanksgiving, Christmas, Rosh Hashanah, someone's birthday (we celebrated everything) — my mother would make up an extra plate and I'd walk it down to Mrs. Hollingsworth. There was no official holiday the night The Jetsons debuted but it seemed appropriate to eat like there was one. My mother made us a brisket and potato pancakes and when I hiked down to Mrs. Hollingsworth's at 6:30, I took her dinner.

The show started at 7 PM and I could have left at 6:55 and made it with time to spare but I wanted to be there early. Just in case. I had a little drawing pad and pencil with me because one of the important things to me about cartoon characters, especially Hanna-Barbera cartoon characters, was that I had to learn to draw them. This mattered so much that I couldn't wait for the probable Jetsons comic book that would be along sooner or later. I had to whip out a few sketches during the show…and indeed, I had Elroy mastered by the first commercial. I still draw him about that well.

I remember being thrilled by the opening shot of the Jetsons' space cruiser bursting onto the screen, then being slightly disappointed that unlike previous H-B shows, it didn't have a singable theme song with rhyming lyrics. I remember recognizing the voice of Daws Butler as (his boy) Elroy and wondering who those other people were. I remember loving the program and wondering how Mrs. Hollingsworth could sit in the next room eating brisket and latkes when she could have been in there with me watching The Greatest TV Show Ever. It was that for me that evening. I loved The Flintstones and other H-B shows but I really loved The Jetsons.

And I remember wondering if they'd ever make an episode in which the Flintstones met the Jetsons. I do not remember thinking, "Gee, maybe fifteen or sixteen years from now, I'll be writing the Flintstones comic book and I'll be able to make that happen." I wasn't that prescient.

Most of all, I remember thinking the show was so wonderful it would last forever. It did and it didn't. Competition from Mr. Disney on NBC drove George, Jane, Judy, Elroy and Astro out of production after one season but the reruns resurfaced on daytime TV and the comic book lived on and the characters endured. Around 1984 when I was working at Hanna-Barbera, one of the execs there called me in and told me they were about to launch a Jetsons revival and Mr. Barbera, knowing of my enthusiasm for the series, wanted me to be the Story Editor and main writer.

I started to scream yes but I'd worked for H-B a while by then. I'd learned it was prudent to not lead with your heart and that you needed to get all the details in advance. (Another writer there advised, "Always get a pre-nup before you fall in love.") The details turned out to include at least two deal-killers for me. One was that they were doing the show for syndication on a shoestring budget. At Hanna-Barbera, they could destroy anything by cutting corners…and they were talking about script fees around a half of the barely-acceptable amounts paid on the Richie Rich series I was then story-editing.

I felt a strong affinity for Bill and Joe but it did not extend to doing charity work for them. And if they paid what they said they were going to pay, they'd get scripts that would require a lot of rewriting…probably by poorly-paid me.

The other problem was that they said they were not out to replicate the old series. The idea was to "modernize" The Jetsons. I asked if that was really necessary, "modernizing" a show set in the future. Someone thought it was. They wanted new supporting characters and a new "look" for that world and edgier humor and lots of alterations I didn't want to make. When I asked the exec about voices, they said they'd be all new. "Most of the original actors are dead," he told me. That was not true. None of them were. He then added, "…and the ones who aren't are too expensive." That was true of Mel Blanc and maybe Daws. Either way, they didn't want to bother with the 1960 cast, which meant they didn't want to bother with the 1960 show I loved…just use its rep and skeleton to build something new.

I thought about the offer for an evening, then passed. As it turned out, they soon realized they didn't want something new. They wanted to make another 41 episodes to add to the original 24 and create a 65-episode package they could strip and syndicate forever. So they'd all blend more-or-less together, they wound up spending a tad more on the animation and scripts (though not enough more), hiring the original voices and making the stories more faithful to the 1960 season. They eventually did not 41 more but 51 more…and I was glad I didn't work on any of them.

It seems to have been a decent revival but this was one childhood fave where I'm glad I kept my distance. If I'd gotten involved, I suspect this article today would have been about all the fights I'd had, many of them with Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera. It's much more fun to be writing about sitting in Mrs. Hollingsworth's den, watching a cartoon show in actual color and just loving every damn thing about it except the theme song. Which I eventually came to also love.

Today's Video Link

This is almost a real Looney Tunes, sans animation.  It's one of the kids' records that Mel Blanc recorded for Capitol Records, in this case with Arthur Q. Bryan playing Elmer Fudd.  The script was by Warren Foster and Tedd Pierce, who were concurrently writing the cartoons, and the graphics you'll see were done by Robert McKimson and Richard Thomas, who were directing and designing cartoons, respectively.  A lot of the artwork for these was supervised by the folks over at Western Publishing, the firm that was then doing the Dell comic books of Bugs and his friends, and the music was by the great Billy May, who was also arranging for the likes of Sinatra around this time.  Take a look.  You don't even have to turn the pages…

Today's Video Link

Kliph Nesteroff found this on YouTube and put it on his blog but it's so good, I have to steal it for mine. It's Strictly For Laffs, an unsold pilot starring Dave Barry. About every three years, someone does some variation of this idea: Have a bunch of comedians just sit around and tell jokes. This one's not bad and you may want to spend the 22 minutes it'll take to watch the whole thing. We can figure out roughly when this pilot was filmed from the content. There's a joke in there about John F. Kennedy getting votes of questionable validity so it would have to be after the presidential election on November 8, 1960. But Mel Blanc is in it and unharmed so it would have to be before his near-fatal auto accident on January 24, 1961.

I'm going to hazard a guess as to why it didn't sell. Given the rock-bottom budget and low production values, it was clearly done for syndication. But I'll bet that when they offered it to stations, they had no idea where to put it on their schedules. It's not a daytime show. It's not a prime-time show. It's not a late night show. If you put a half-hour on the air, you kind of have to "marry it" with a similar half-hour program and there were no similar half-hour programs.

I'm most interested in Dave Barry, who was a wonderful stand-up comic and an occasional cartoon voice actor. He's the guy who did Humphrey Bogart in most of the Warner Brothers cartoons where someone did Bogart. He also turned up in a lot of other cartoons and was briefly Elmer Fudd and Popeye's nemesis, Bluto. Also on Strictly For Laffs, we have Alan Reed (best known as the voice of Fred Flintstone), Rose Marie (from The Dick Van Dyke Show), Sid Melton (from The Danny Thomas Show and Green Acres), Harold Peary (The Great Gildersleeve), Willard Waterman (also The Great Gildersleeve), Marvin Miller (from The Millionaire) plus Jesse White, Mel Blanc, Ken Murray, Buddy Lester, Moe Howard (!), Jack Durant, Tommy Noonan, a few others and Paul Gilbert. Gilbert was a comic actor who was famous for being able to do an amazing flip/pratfall. He did it a number of times on Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In but was most famously the drunk who was judo-flipped by Laura Petrie in an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show.

I think Rose Marie is the only person in it who's still with us. Next time I see her, I'll ask if she has any recollection of this at all…

IAQ

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How to get a passport and not go to Europe for a big business deal that doesn't happen.

Today's Video Link

Here's another one of those Capitol Records of Disney material. This is Lady and the Tramp and it says "With members of the original cast." This is so. Lady is voiced by Barbara Luddy and Tramp is Larry Roberts, plus Bill Thompson spoke for Jock, Bull and Dachsie. All of these folks were indeed in the movie.

The narrator sounds like Art Gilmore to me.  The rest of the female voices, including both Siamese Cats and Peg (the Peggy Lee role) were provided by June Foray. The rest of the male voices were done by Daws Butler. None of these three folks were in the movie but they were part of the stock company at Capitol back then.

Daws didn't do much on Disney projects over the years. He and Freberg recorded some material for Alice in Wonderland but the scene was cut. Then years later, he voiced a penguin and a turtle each of whom spoke a few words in the animated sequence of Mary Poppins. Those jobs plus a few other Capitol Records were the only times I know for certain of him working on anything Disney, though I vaguely recall him telling me he'd done a few educational films or perhaps filmstrips for the studio.

Once he got typed as the star voice of Hanna-Barbera, the Disney folks were reluctant to hire him, at least for major roles, just as they didn't use Mel Blanc. Even in the eighties when I was developing the first Disney animated show for Saturday morning, The Wuzzles, that was the case. I had Daws in mind for a lead part and while they used most of my other casting suggestions, I was told they wouldn't even call Daws in to audition: "We don't want what we do sounding like a Hanna-Barbera cartoon." That was their loss because he was always sensational…in every job he ever did. So was June. Listen how well they perform here, even doing voices where they have to imitate other actors…

An Easter Memory

Once upon a time, the May Company was the sacred place to shop in Los Angeles — especially the formidable outlet at the corner of Wilshire and Fairfax. It marked the west end of a strip of Wilshire full of department stores and that strip was known as the Miracle Mile. It's still called the Miracle Mile even though there isn't a single department store left there. Orbach's is gone. Harris & Frank is gone. Desmond's is gone. Mullen & Bluett is gone and so on. The May Company's lovely building is still there but inside it now is some sort of off-shoot of the L.A. County Museum of Art which is next door.

This memory takes place back when it was still the May Company, inside and out. For two or three years running, they did a special Easter promotion involving Bugs Bunny. Ads would appear giving a special phone number that kids could call to "talk to Bugs Bunny." Well, naturally, I had to call. I think I was six or seven the first time this happened but I knew how to dial a phone. And note that I said "dial," as in running one's finger around on one of these:

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So I dialed and got a busy signal. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Isn't "cut-and-paste" wonderful? Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again. Then I dialed and got a busy signal again.

And finally, it rang. And Bugs picked up.

Well, it wasn't Bugs, of course. Even I knew then it was Mel Blanc. But it also wasn't Mel Blanc. It was the recorded voice of Mel Blanc. But even that was exciting. In later years, it would be no big deal to call some number and hear a recorded announcement. Heck, there would be times when it would be a novelty to dial a number — any number — and not get a recorded announcement. But at the time, this kind of thing was kinda rare…and the fact that it was a cartoon character was very special.

I remember the first thing he said. It was, you may be surprised to hear, "What's up, doc?" And I remember the last thing he said. It was an admonition that I should hang up now so that someone else could get through. In-between, there was a pitch to get my parents to take me to the May Company at Wilshire and Fairfax where Bugs would have a special gift for me and a special, personal message. Well, you can guess where we were going…the next day, in fact. This was a few days before Easter.

That night, I was lying wide awake in bed, as I often did. I didn't sleep much as a kid. I would lie there half the night it seemed, making up incredible stories involving cartoons and characters I saw on TV or read in comic books. They were all about my phone buddy Bugs Bunny that night and I suddenly got the idea that I'd like to hear his message again…and also, I was curious. Was there just the one message or were there several and they rotated? And what would have happened if I hadn't hung up immediately? Would the message have repeated? Would Bugs have said something else?

I checked the clock by my bed at it said it was 4:10 in the morning. I had a hunch the phone might not be quite as busy at 4:10 in the morning.

So as not to awake my parents, I crept carefully out to the kitchen, which is where our only phone was. From all that dialing earlier, I had the number memorized so I called, worrying slightly that Bugs would answer and say angrily, "Hey, didn't you call earlier, kid?"  Or maybe, "What the big idea, waking me up at this hour?"

I got a busy signal. At 4-friggin'-11 in the morning. Someone else obviously had the same idea.

I put some peanut butter on a cracker, ate it and then dialed again. This time, I got through and heard the exact same message I'd heard earlier. At the end, when Bugs said to hang up so someone else could call, I risked him getting mad at me and didn't. And I heard…absolutely nothing. After about a minute, I hung up and went back to bed.

The next day, we went to the May Company. Near the center of the top floor, there was a huge display with big cut-outs of Bugs and Elmer Fudd and Porky Pig and other Warner Brothers characters. The phone message had made it sound like I could actually meet Bugs Bunny there and while I knew that wasn't possible, I figured there'd be something like a guy in a Bugs Bunny suit or a big robot or — and I knew this was a longshot but you tend to dream at that age — maybe they'd have Mel Blanc there.

They didn't. There were two cute young girls dressed in bunny ears and tails. This was a year or two before the Playboy Clubs opened with waitresses in bunny ears and tails and I always wondered if Hugh Hefner or someone working for him drew any inspiration from Bugs' helpers at the May Company. Probably not but you never know.

One gave me a little Bugs Bunny coloring book with a bag of crayons and candy attached. The other was in charge of a telephone on a pedestal. She held out the receiver for me and I took it and heard another message Mel Blanc had recorded. It was something about how he was sorry he was so busy he couldn't be there in person but you know, "us rabbits" are pretty busy just before Easter, painting eggs and figuring out where to hide 'em. He told me to be a good little kid and eat all my carrots and to make sure his helpers gave me his special Easter gift. And then he hung up on me and his assistant yanked the receiver from my grasp.

I didn't feel cheated by this since I'd known going in I wasn't going to really meet Bugs Bunny. I remember being rather thrilled to have gotten that close to him. And then my parents went shopping.

That's about everything I remember about the Bugs Bunny promotion. I'm going to guess they did it the first time in 1958 or 1959 when I was six or seven. If I had to bet, I'd bet the latter. I know they did it at least one following year, maybe two. Same ad in the paper, same message on the phone. We only went to the May Company in response that one time, presuming that since the phone message was the same, the pay-off when you got to the store would be the same. In 1961 or so, they did the same deal with Fred Flintstone, even though, having lived before Christ, his connection to Easter was at best tenuous. A recording by his voice Alan Reed was on the phone and when you went to the May Company, they had two cute ladies in ratty cave girl outfits filling the same function as the bunnies.

What they did have, I think in lieu of a phone message, was a robotic Fred Flintstone. It was a very good likeness about five feet high. His mouth opened and closed, not particularly in sync with a constantly repeating voice recording — Fred welcoming us to the May Company and wishing us Happy Easter. His right arm went up and down. My mother took a photo of me next to him but, damn it, the pictures didn't come out. A day or two later, they trucked the Robot Fred over to the local ABC studios and I saw it "perform" on the morning cartoon show hosted by Chucko the Birthday Clown. The voice didn't work and the moving arm kept stopping and starting, and Chucko (who was a pretty funny guy) kept warning Fred that if he didn't talk, ABC would cancel his prime-time show. I assume that robot is long since gone but I'd give about a year's pay to have it in my living room.

This has been an Easter Memory…and just about the only one this Jewish kid has from his childhood.

IAQ03

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Since Mel Blanc passed away, doesn't his son do the voice of Bugs Bunny and his other characters?  And if not, why not?

Mel was amazing.  To "replace" him, it's required a whole squadron of voice actors including Greg Burson, Jeff Bergman, Billy West, Joe Alaskey, Bob Bergen, Maurice LaMarche, Mindy Segal, Neil Ross, Frank Welker, Frank Gorshin, Bill Farmer and at least ten others.  Some of these gents are the frequent voices of certain characters — Porky Pig is usually done by Bergen, Daffy by Alaskey, etc. — but no one seems to have an absolute exclusive on any role.  This is partly because various folks at Warner Brothers disagree on which actor does the best Bugs, who sounds most like Foghorn, and so on.  It is also because, by always having a large talent pool from which to pick, it prevents any one voice actor from demanding massive sums of cash…as Mel often did in his last decade or two.

In interviews he gave late in life, Mel sometimes said that his son Noel would take over his roles some day…and Noel reportedly did some small parts even while Mel was still with us.  Noel Blanc has also done a few roles here and there in the years since, usually as Tweety or Porky.  However, he is quite successful in other lines of work and apparently uninterested in spending his days locked in a recording studio.  So, by mutual agreement, others usually do Bugs and Friends.

COL295

Moose and Squirrel

by Mark Evanier

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED 6/23/00
Comics Buyer's Guide

Set the dials on the Waybac Machine, Sherman…

The date? November 19, 1959.

The place? Right in front of a very bad Packard-Bell TV set in Mark Evanier's parents' living room.

The Wayback Machine performs flawlessly, as it always does. Within seconds, we're standing in a modest dwelling in West Los Angeles, watching as a budding 7-year-old comedy/cartoon writer takes in the first episode of a brand-new animated television series. Its name? Rocky and His Friends. Each half-hour consists of two episodes of Rocky and Bullwinkle, and one apiece of Fractured Fairy Tales and Peabody's Improbable History.

And so it began…not just for me, but for a lot of us — our introduction to the wonderful world of Jay Ward (and Bill Scott and all the other splendid folks who conspired to create Jay Ward cartoons…)

Rocky was not the first TV cartoon with which the inventive Mr. Ward had been involved. I had been a big fan of Crusader Rabbit and even, at age seven, noted certain similarities between the series…

Both offered us serialized stories, told by a stentorian narrator.

Both starred a small, fur-covered hero who roamed the world with his big, dumb pal. Crusader's was Ragland T. Tiger; Rocky's was Bullwinkle J. Moose.

Both featured a recurring villain who popped up almost everywhere they want. Crusader and Rags kept running into Dudley Nightshade; Rocky and Bullwinkle battled Boris Badenov.

And both shows had slightly-askew senses of humor. The key difference was that Crusader Rabbit was funny, whereas Rocky and His Friends was FUNNY. Not only that but it was FUNNY in a very hip manner, never condescending to the viewers, never taking the easy route to something that kinda resembled a gag. As such, the shows would stand up to repeated viewings…and the more you saw them, the more jokes you'd get.

So it didn't matter much that, like all the early TV cartoons, the animation looked like it was done in the back room at Pic-and-Save. It never got much better, not even when the festivities trucked over to NBC and were aired in prime-time as The Bullwinkle Show.

The graphics were clever, the characters and scripts were brilliant and the voice acting was first-rate…maybe the best cast ever assembled for a cartoon show — June Foray, Bill Scott, Paul Frees, Daws Butler and William Conrad, with Edward Everett Horton as the Narrator of the Fractured Fairy Tales and Charlie Ruggles as Aesop, narrator of the Aesop and Son cartoons that were added later. (The Bullwinkle Show also introduced Dudley Do-Right, with Scott, Foray, Frees, occasionally Conrad and, in every installment, the glorious Hans Conried stealing the show as Snidely Whiplash.)

Of those folks, only June Foray is still with us. Matter of fact, we lost most of the men in a very short span of time: Hans Conried died in '82, Bill Scott in '85, Paul Frees in '86, Daws Butler in '88, Jay Ward in '89 and Bill Conrad in '94. The last time I saw some of these folks was at a funeral for another of these folks.

Happily though, June is around to reap the honors. On July 7, she will be honored when a star bearing her name is unveiled on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. And it's about damned time.

She'll also be getting loads of well-deserved attention as a new motion picture opens around then — Rocky and Bullwinkle, starring Robert DeNiro, Jason Alexander and Rene Russo. But of course, in this film, they're nobodies. The real star will be June Foray, performing the role of the animated Rocky the Flying Squirrel.

So, you may be wondering: Who's doing Bullwinkle's voice? The answer is that they found the perfect person, even though they had to go halfway around the world for him. His name is Keith Scott.


First off: Keith is not related in any way to Bill Scott. Bill was the original voice of Bullwinkle, Dudley Do-Right, Mr. Peabody, George of the Jungle and many others. He was also the show's head writer and co-producer and a very funny, brilliant gent.

Keith lives and works in Australia. American cartoons and radio shows were imported into his country and, at an early age, he fell in love with both and set his sights on a career in vocal acting. Around age 17, he wrote to Daws Butler in America. Daws was not only one of the best voice actors of all time but a steadfast encourager of new talent. He and Keith developed a back-and-forth tutor/protégé relationship, shipping letters and tapes between continents. Keith finally came to Los Angeles and not only met all the great voice artists but began to indulge a passion for research. His two main areas of interest were…

1. Cartoon Voice History. Only a tiny percentage of the actors in theatrical animation received credit, and most of them were Mel Blanc. While some of the other voices are easily identifiable, many are not…or weren't, until a number of animation buffs put their minds to it. Keith is one of us — and an especially valuable scholar, owing to his huge collection of (and knowledge of) old radio shows.

2. The Jay Ward Studio. Daws referred Keith to Bill Scott which, in turn, led to Keith interviewing darn near everyone who worked on the premises, as well as gaining access to old scripts, tapes, files…the works. He quickly became the world's foremost authority on the place and…well, let's cut directly to the plug:

Keith has spent years compiling a book that comes out any day now from St. Martin's Press. It's called The Moose That Roared: The Story of Jay Ward and Bill Scott. If you have even the slightest interest in its subject, you absolutely have to have it. And if you don't have even the slightest interest in its subject, you should.

Can I make myself any clearer?


Over the years, Keith honed his skills and became one of the most in-demand announcers and performers of character voices in Sydney, Australia. He has joined a select group that some call "second generation" voice actors, meaning that they replicate the sound of a classic character, once the original performer is deceased or otherwise unavailable.

In the U.S., we have reached the point where the majority of great animated characters are in such custody. Since Mel Blanc passed away, for instance, his menagerie of voices has been simulated by, among others, Joe Alaskey, Billy West, Greg Burson, Maurice LaMarche, Jeff Bergman, Neil Ross, Frank Welker, Mindy Segal, Bob Bergen, Frank Gorshin, Jim Cummings, Bill Farmer and (occasionally) Mel's son, Noel Blanc. By my count, six of those gents have spoken for Bugs at varying times, five for Foghorn Leghorn and so on.

This is not easy to do. A voice must not only be imitated but sustained. A lot of folks can sound like Bugs for a line or two, especially if repeating dialogue that Mel performed in a cartoon. It's a whole 'nother thing to sound like Bugs throughout a 4-hour recording session, running a full gamut of emotions, often with no identical Blanc example to use as a template.

(Another problem: No two employees of Time-Warner seem to agree on exactly what Bugs sounds like, since Mel changed over the years. So if you please one department head, you displease another.)

As you can see, a whole squadron has stepped into Mel's shoes, at least for cartoons recorded in Southern California. Down under, Keith pretty much has the hemisphere to himself. He does most of the recordings of Mel's characters — and Daws's and others — when they have to be recorded locally. I don't know if there have been any recordings of the Tasmanian Devil for Tasmania…but if there have been, Keith probably did them.

You've heard him up here, as well. Sometimes, they do it via what's called a phone patch…which means that Keith is in a studio in Australia, working for someone here in the states. On bigger jobs, they fly him in. We had lunch one day here in Hollywood when he'd just come from recording Popeye and Bluto for a ride at the Universal theme park in Florida.

And of course, they've flown him in several times to record the role of Bullwinkle (and also the Narrator) for the new Rocky and Bullwinkle feature. All the time he was studying the history of the studio, he was practicing its voices, honing his Moose Sound-alike. June Foray told me, "There are times with Keith when, if I just heard a recording without knowing who'd done it, I'd have sworn it was Bill." Can't imagine a better endorsement than that. (Keith, by the way, also did the Narrator in the George of the Jungle movie.)

When he's in L.A. and not recording, we get together and swap info on voice actors. He's been working with the U.S. expert on the topic, Hames Ware, and with the British authority, Graham Webb. (Graham, by the way, also has a fine book out, well worth your attention — The Animated Film Encyclopedia, published by McFarland.) They all hope someday to publish a reference volume that will identify as many voices as possible from American cartoons made for theatrical exhibition. I'm going to close this piece with some nuggets of info I jotted down after the last time Keith and I got together. Many of these were things I hadn't known 'til he told me…


Mel Blanc always recalled that his first WB cartoon job was as a drunken bull in Picador Porky. Not so. His first role was as a drunken tramp in that film. His first "star" role came about in Porky's Duck Hunt when he took over from Joe Dougherty as Porky's voice.

Blanc did Bugs from the start, all through the various prototype versions. One brief exception is Bugs' line, "Of course you know, this means war" in Porky's Hare Hunt. That one line was done by director-storyman Ben "Bugs" Hardaway. Hardaway later replaced Blanc as the voice of Woody Woodpecker.

Daws Butler's first cartoon was Little Rural Riding Hood, which was directed by Tex Avery for MGM in 1949. Daws did the George Sanders impression as the voice of the City Wolf while the Country Wolf was played by Pinto Colvig, who was best known as the original voices of Goofy (for Disney) and Bozo the Clown (on Capitol Records). The gangly Country Red was voiced by Colleen Collins who, among many other credits, played Queen Isabella on the classic comedy record, Stan Freberg Presents the United States of America.

In that cartoon and many of Tex's, the singing voice of the attractive Red Riding Hood was Imogene Lynn, a popular radio singer. Her voice track in Little Rural Riding Hood was a re-use from Swing Shift Cinderella.

Daws Butler's first WB cartoon was a 1952 Tweety and Sylvester film, Gift Wrapped.

Stan Freberg did his first voice recording for WB doing a Franklin Delano Roosevelt impression for a cartoon that was to be called For He's a Jolly Good Fala. (Fala was the name of F.D.R.'s dog.) The film was written and recorded but then the President passed away and the project was abandoned.

Freberg's first completed cartoon was the role of Junior Bear in Bugs Bunny Meets the Three Bears (1944). Mel Blanc did the Father Bear and Bea Benaderet played Mama Bear. Years later, when the Three Bears were revived for a series of cartoons, Billy Bletcher took over the role of the Father Bear.

In the first Hubie and Bertie cartoon, The Aristo-Cat, their voices were done by storymen Tedd Pierce and Michael Maltese. For the second, Trap-Happy Porky, Maltese was replaced by Freberg. In the third, Roughly Squeaking, Dick Nelson and Freberg did the honors. Eventually, Blanc and Freberg played Hubie and Bertie, though both sometimes did pick-up lines in the other's role.

All of the Goofy Gopher cartoons apparently feature Blanc and Freberg as Mac and Tosh. When Hubie, Bertie, Mac and Tosh turned up for brief interstitial segments on the 60's Bugs Bunny TV show, Blanc apparently did all the parts.

Storyman Tedd Pierce did the Bud Abbott imitation in A Tale of Two Kitties with Blanc providing the Lou Costello clone. Pierce was also the voice of the father in Quentin Quail, imitating the character of Daddy Snooks from the Baby Snooks radio show. Sara Berner played his daughter, an imitation of Fanny Brice in the Baby Snooks role.

Pierce provided the narration for Uncle Tom's Bungalow and was one of the two French chefs in French Rarebit. Blanc was the other.

John McLeish (aka John Ployardt) narrated Chuck Jones's The Dover Boys. Blanc and Pierce did the voices of the Dover Boys, and the glee club's singing was by the vocal group, The Sportsmen.

McLeish narrated The Ducktators, which features Michael Maltese as Mussolini and Blanc as both Hitler and Hirohito.

Animator Dick Bickenbach did the Bing Crosby imitation in Swooner Crooner. ("Bic," as everyone called him, later drew many of the Flintstones and Yogi Bear comic books of the 70's.)

Tex Avery turns up in bit parts in many of his cartoons and occasionally in those of other directors. Tex's biggest part was the Laughing Hippo in Hamateur Night.

The spider character in Meatless Flyday was inspired by an Avery voice and he often said that he'd done the part, even though he had left WB by the time this cartoon was recorded. He may have recorded the role but the voice in the finished cartoon is that of Cy Kendall.

Several published reports have fingered singer Terrence Monck as the voice of the frog in Chuck Jones's One Froggy Evening. This was apparently someone's deduction based on the job Monck did many years later for Jones on an MGM cartoon. It was actually Bill Roberts, a studio singer of the day. Monck also has been wrongly credited as the opera singer who keeps Bugs awake in Long-Haired Hare. That was actually Nicolai Shutorov. (And while we're at it, Carlos Ramirez was the opera singer in Tex Avery's Magical Maestro for MGM.)


Okay, that's all I have room for this week, so let me summarize your assignments…

1. Pick up Keith's book, The Moose That Roared: The Story of Jay Ward and Bill Scott.

2. When you go see the Rocky and Bullwinkle movie, listen especially to June Foray as Rocky and Keith Scott as Bullwinkle.

3. Be here next week when I hope to provide a preview of some splendid panels that will take place at this year's Comic-Con International in San Diego.

That is all.

COL302

June Foray

by Mark Evanier

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED 8/11/00
Comics Buyer's Guide


Today is July 7. Actually, it's quarter to Midnight, so it's almost July 8. I'm dead-tired and my feet feel like it'll take the Jaws of Life to get them out of my shoes. Oughta be in bed, but I had to write about today while it was still whirling around my cranium. What a terrific day today was. Today was June Foray Day.

It was, it really was. Don't take my word for it: Ask the Los Angeles City Council. It was their proclamation to honor the woman someone once called "The female Mel Blanc."

That prompted her friend (and frequent employer) Chuck Jones to correct folks. "June Foray is not the female Mel Blanc," he proclaimed. "Mel Blanc was the male June Foray."

One can readily make the case either way. Less arguable though is that June is one of a select group of voice legends that once included not only the immortal Mr. Blanc but two of her other frequent co-stars — Daws Butler and Paul Frees — as well. Put any of them in a room with a microphone and you had a cast of hundreds…

But put June and any of those men (or Stan Freberg or Don Messick, etc.) in that studio and the possibilities were infinite.

The impressive thing about June is not quantity but quality; the way every personality bursts forth, not as a funny voice but as a fully-rounded, well-delineated characterization. The folks she becomes breathe and laugh and cry and span the gantlet of emotions. They're also — when they're supposed to be — very funny. There's a reason she has worked so much…ever since age 12, to be precise.

That was when she first stepped in front of a microphone in her native Springfield, Massachusetts, performing in a radio play. Before long, she was a regular in the rep company of WBZA in Springfield, and not long after, she was in Hollywood, working steadily. She was heard in all the top radio programs of the day — everything from The Jimmy Durante Show to the prestigious Lux Radio Theatre. She even had her own kids' show, telling stories as Lady Makebelieve.

Then it was on to cartoons.

In the forties, a popular series of shorts was the "Speaking of Animals" series, which featured live-action nature footage with cartoon mouths superimposed onto the critters — like a penguin proclaiming, "I don't care what anyone says. I'm cold." June was one of the actors engaged to dub in such silly dialogue. One of the writers was Bill Scott, who would later play Bullwinkle to her Rocky.

Doing that series, she met and formed lasting relationships with two other voice performers — Stan Freberg and Daws Butler. Not long after, June became part of a stock company heard on high-budget kids' records for Capitol — a crew that included Stan, Daws, Pinto "Goofy" Colvig and Mel Blanc, among others. Soon, she was the most in-demand female in the cartoon voice business.

As a result of her work on the records, she was called in to create the sounds of Lucifer the Cat in Cinderella. (Disney's next animated feature was Peter Pan and, for it, June provided the movements but not the voice of a mermaid. She was filmed in a bathing suit, performing actions to serve as reference for the animation department.)

But she was heard — loud 'n' clear — in dozens of cartoons for Tex Avery at MGM, for Walter Lantz in the cartoons he produced in his studio and, perhaps most enduringly, for Warner Brothers. She took over (from Bea Benaderet) as Granny, the energetic owner of Tweety and Sylvester. She performed in many others, including the Honeymousers series, wherein she played Alice to the Gleason-like mouse voiced by Daws Butler.

Ask her to name her favorite role and the answer is easy: "I started playing witches…for Disney in Trick or Treat and then Chuck Jones had me play a witch for him. I've been playing witches every since."

The witch she did for Jones was Witch Hazel — another role inherited from Bea Benaderet, but one which June made her own. Her witch voice, in fact, became State of the Art, incessantly-imitated, even today. There are few voice actresses around whose demo tapes are minus some approximation of a June Foray witch.

If that was all she'd done in her career…if she'd retired then and there, she'd still be deserving of a star in the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Truth is, we haven't even gotten to her real achievements.

When the aforementioned Freberg became a top comedy recording artist, June was heard on many of his best-sellers, including "St. George and the Dragonet" and "Sh-Boom.." As Stan says, "She was, quite simply, the best in the business. I could write anything, confident in the knowledge that whatever the age, whatever the accent, June could do it." She was a valuable member of the rep company on his legendary radio program, The Stan Freberg Show, the complete, too-short run of which is now available on tape and CD.

For a time, she dabbled in on-camera acting, appearing on TV shows and in movies. Want to see a short lady wince? Just tell her you have a tape of her role as the sexy High Priestess in the film, Sabaka. Or that you caught her last — to date — on-screen role as a Hispanic telephone operator on Green Acres.

Most of the time though, she preferred to remain at the mike, far from all lenses. She was fine on-camera but so are a lot of actresses. In voiceovers though, she was what crossword puzzle makers call a "oner." It means someone who is one of a kind — and that, June was and still is.

This, she proved handily with her best-known work, providing almost all the female roles — and the occasional male — for Jay Ward's cartoons. She was Rocky and the sultry Natasha on Rocky and His Friends (soon redubbed The Bullwinkle Show). She played the prim Nell Fenwick on Dudley Do-Right. She provided an array of fairies, princesses and — of course — witches for Fractured Fairy Tales and portrayed Ursula on George of the Jungle. She was on almost every Jay Ward program — shows which featured animation that ranged from Rotten to Barely Acceptable. It was due to brilliant writing and voice work that they've captivated several generations.

Some have called the Jay Ward stock company the Gold Standard of Cartoon Voice Acting. In addition to June, there was writer-producer Bill Scott, Paul Frees and — at times — William Conrad, Daws Butler or Hans Conried, among others. Daws used to say, "Working in that company was like getting to play for the Yankees at the top of their game. And June was Mickey Mantle, only cuter."

June has performed for hundreds of commercials, countless other animated shows, and dozens of movies, dubbing in off-camera voices or replacing dialogue for other actresses…or even actors. Just the other day, I was watching the underrated Dick Van Dyke film, The Comic. There's a little boy in there, about age six, whose voice is supplied by the ubiquitous Ms. Foray. Her voice has been heard in dolls (the original Chatty Cathy) and around Disneyland (The Pirates of the Caribbean).

She still does cartoons. Just a few years ago, she brought Granny back to life on The Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries and has been heard on The Smurfs, Garfield and Friends, and many more. And, as we all know, she recently voiced Rocket J. Squirrel in the new, big-budget feature, The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle — sounding not a week older than when she first played the part in 1959.

June has also been a staunch supporter of the film and animation community, including service as a Governor of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences, and also the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. She has been so valuable to A.S.I.F.A. — The International Animated Film Society — that they even named their Lifetime Achievement award after her.

So the big question is: Why did it take until today to get her a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame?


The Hollywood Walk of Fame lines both sides of Hollywood Boulevard between La Brea and Gower, plus both sides of Vine Street, from Yucca to Sunset. In the years 1960 and 1961, slightly more than 1500 charcoal terrazzo squares were embedded in the sidewalk, each honoring a great from the worlds of Motion Pictures, Television, Radio, Recording, or Live Theatre. Since then, around another thousand have been installed and they continue to be added at the rate of one or two per month. The selections are made by the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, based on nominations submitted during an announced two-month period each year.

Nominations come from publicists, studios, fan clubs and occasionally from the performer himself/herself. The committee looks at professional achievement for five years or more, as well as community service. And except for the occasional posthumous honor, they require that the honoree commit to show up for the dedication ceremony. This last prerequisite has kept the names of a few biggies off the pavement — David Letterman, for instance. And Robert Redford.

Also, someone also has to pay the installation fee, which is currently close to ten grand. The "someone" is usually the star's current employer — like the studio releasing their new movie or the company putting out their new CD. It comes under the general category of Promotion.

June Foray was nominated for the Walk of Fame when the great animation director Chuck Jones, suddenly realized she wasn't already there. June has been a favored voice performer in Chuck's cartoons and, rumor has it, he called up the appropriate folks at Warner Brothers and said something like, "It's a travesty that June isn't already there. Do something about it!"

They did — though by the time it was arranged, Universal Studios was about to release the recent Rocky and Bullwinkle movie. So Universal wound up paying for it.

If they hadn't, you could have raised the dough just by passing the hat amongst the crowd this morning. TV Legend Steve Allen, who was one of those who spoke before the unveiling, remarked, "I've been to a few dozen of these and this is the biggest turnout I've ever seen." Someone else suggested that if it wasn't, it was certainly the most loving, knowledgeable-about-the-honoree crowd.

The ceremonies take place on the sidewalk at 11:30 AM. A speakers' platform is erected right near where the plaque will be unveiled and traffic is diverted so fans have an area to mass and view the festivities. Usually, I'm told, they get tourists who just happen to be wandering the boulevard and who crowd up in the hope of seeing someone famous. Today though, the audience contained primarily folks who came purposefully to cheer the First Lady of Animation Voicing.

Mr. Allen spoke, Stan Freberg spoke, Gary Owens spoke. Chuck Jones was unfortunately under the weather and unable to attend, but dozens of June's other friends and associates were there: film maven Leonard Maltin, voice actress Nancy "Bart Simpson" Cartwright, actress Kathy Bates, Ramona Ward (widow of Jay), director Arthur Hiller, local radio reporter Tom Hatten, San Diego Con founder Shel Dorf, much of the Women in Animation group, cartoonists Sergio Aragonés, Phil Ortiz, Scott Shaw! and Stan Sakai, Des McAnuff (who directed the Rocky and Bullwinkle movie), Keith Scott (who voiced Bullwinkle in it)…I can't remember all the names…

What I do remember — what I will never forget — is the ovation June received when she stepped up to the podium. I've been around show biz long enough to evaluate applause. There's obligatory applause, perfunctory applause, relieved applause, delighted applause…

This was better than any of those. This was real applause. Loving applause.

Later on, most of us trucked over to a reception in her honor. June seemed a bit stunned by it all. I guess you don't get into voiceover work and then expect this kind of recognition.

I first met June Foray at some animation event in the early seventies. She was at all of them, for her devotion to cartoons did not stop when they finished recording the voice track. I could not believe how giving and generous she was with her time.

Later on, I had the pleasure of working with her several times. She was an absolute professional and an honor just to be around.

I'd say I directed her but that's only true on a technicality. Let me tell you how you "direct" June Foray. You say, "June, you're doing this part and this part and this part." And then you roll tape and shut the hell up…because she always does it right and anything you say can only make things worse.

That's how you "direct" June Foray. It's kinda like telling Tiger Woods how to putt.

All of this explains why today was June Foray Day in Hollywood. If you ask me, every day should be June Foray Day. And they should close the schools, so all the kids can go home and watch old Bullwinkle cartoons.


Before we go, I have to share with you all, another in the ongoing series of incredible coincidences that permeate my silly life.

Recently, I wrote — with the help of my pal, Earl Kress — the script for a Scooby Doo Video Game that will be released in a few months. This week, we had to record the voices. The voice of Scooby, by the way, is now being done by Scott Innes, a radio personality from Baton Rouge. He does an uncanny replica of the late Don Messick's Scooby mumbling.

I asked the producers not to schedule the recording session on Friday because I wanted to be — no, make that "had to be" — at the dedication ceremony. Well, based on when the talent was available, they decided it "had to be" on Friday. That meant I "had to be" in two places at once.

I sighed and asked them where the voice track was being recorded. They said Soundesign Studios. I asked where that was. They said it was located at 7080 Hollywood Boulevard.

Synchronicity: June Foray's star was being installed in front of the building at 7080 Hollywood Boulevard.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear there was some magical force at work here…like someone waved a magic wand or something.

Hey…maybe there's a reason June's so good at playing witches…