Happy birthday, Angie Dickinson. Why do I think she doesn't exactly look like this picture any more? Because I saw her at a screening...pre-COVID, of course. 737: BATTLE OF THE BAGGAGE - TURGESH DRIVE BACK AN UMAYYAD INVASION OF KHUTTAL AND CAPTURE THEIR BAGGAGE TRAIN. The smart money is on the garment bag. 1541: SPANISH CONQUISTADOR HERNANDO DE SOTO AND HIS FORCES ENTER TULA, WHICH IS PRESENT-DAY WESTERN ARKANSAS. So Bill Clinton used to be governor of Tula? 1791: THE NATIONAL CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY IN PARIS IS DISSOLVED. Like an Alka Seltzer tablet. 1860: BRITAIN'S FIRST TRAM SERVICE BEGINS IN BIRKENHEAD, MERSEYSIDE. Lord have mersey. 1882: THOMAS EDISON'S FIRST COMMERCIAL HYDROELECTRIC POWER PLANT BEGINS OPERATION IN WISCONSIN. This guy did it all. 1888: JACK THE RIPPER KILLS HIS THIRD AND FOURTH VICTIMS. On the same day. Must have been a day/night doubleheader. 1903: THE NEW GRESHAM SCHOOL IS OPENED BY SIR EVELYN WOOD. How fast did you read that last line? 1921: ACTRESS DEBORAH KERR IS BORN. She died in 2007. So, from here to eternity. 1924: AUTHOR TRUMAN CAPOTE IS BORN. Then his blood was warm. 1927: BABE RUTH BECOMES THE FIRST BASEBALL PLAYER TO HIT 60 HOME RUNS IN ONE SEASON. Steroids! Steroids!! 1931: ACTRESS ANGIE DICKINSON IS BORN. Don't you really want to know what she was doing in that JFK White House? 1932: BASEBALL STAR JOHNNY PODRES IS BORN. Pitched the Brooklyn Dodgers to their first World Series win in 1955. 1935: THE HOOVER DAM IS DEDICATED. Dedicated to...holding back water. 1935: SINGER JOHNNY MATHIS IS BORN. My writing partner had a whole conversation with him in the super market. A nice guy. 1938: THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS UNANIMOUSLY OUTLAWS "INTENTIONAL BOMBINGS OF CIVILIAN POPULATIONS." What? No ruling about the designated hitter? 1939: NBC BROADCASTS THE FIRST TELEVISED AMERICAN FOOTBALL GAME BETWEEN THE WAYNESBURG YELLOW JACKETS AND THE FORDHAM RAMS, WHO WON. Wait??? My alma mater of Fordham??? How cool??? And they won??????!!! 1947: PAKISTAN AND YEMEN JOIN THE UNITED NATIONS. Make sure their dues checks don't bounce. 1947: THE WORLD SERIES BETWEEN THE NY YANKEES AND THE BROOKLYN DODGERS IS TELEVISED FOR THE FIRST TIME. Except my team won't win until...well, see above reference for Johnny Podres. 1954: ACTOR BARRY WILLIAMS IS BORN. Oh, Greg. 1955: ACTOR JAMES DEAN DIES IN AN AUTO ACCIDENT. This guy's career would have been phenomenal. 1962: MEXICAN-AMERICAN LABOR LEADER CESAR CHAVEZ FOUNDS THE GROUP WHICH WOULD LATER BECOME THE UNITED FARM WORKERS. Cesar, I love your ravine. 1962: JAMES MEREDITH ENTERS THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSISSIPPI, DEFYING SEGREGATION. First stop: the book store. 1965: THE PILOT EPISODE OF THUNDERBIRDS AIRS IN ENGLAND FOR THE FIRST TIME. A show about marionette pilots. My writing partner's favorite show when he was a kid. 1968: THE BOEING 747 IS ROLLED OUT AND SHOWN TO THE PUBLIC FOR THE FIRST TIME. Oooh. Aaah. 1972: ROBERTO CLEMENTED RECORDS THE 3,000TH AND FINAL HIT OF HIS CAREER. Off the Mets' Jon Matlack if I am not mistaken. 1982: CYANIDE-LACED TYLENOL KILLS SEVEN PEOPLE IN CHICAGO. Must have been the Extra Strength. 1977: SINGER MARY FORD DIES. Attached to that Les Paul guitar guy. 1978: ACTOR EDGAR BERGEN DIES. Eulogy by Charlie McCarthy. 1996: THE US CONGRESS PASSES AN AMENDMENT THAT BANS THE POSSESSION OF FIREARMS FOR PEOPLE WHO WERE CONVICTED OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. Duh. 1998: BASEBALL PITCHER DAN QUISENBERRY DIES. Any comment from Count Chocula? 2017: TV HOST MONTY HALL DIES. Should have taken Door #2. Dinner last night: Leftover barbecued chicken.
Nestled in the hills just over Beverly Hills is Mayberry. Well, at least the fishing hole/lake where Sheriff Andy and Opie whistled their way to that day's catch. Since "The Andy Griffith Show premiered in September of 1960, that would make this the sixth anniversary. Six decades since the above opening shot was staged.
A little research on the internet that prevails in 2o2o and you can still find the location where this all happened. Not in the country, but right near a full blown city.
Franklin Canyon Park stood in for the fishing hole. And, today, it looks amazingly the same.
Sadly, the actual lake itself has virtually dried up. What in California hasn't?
But history can still be found if you look for it.
Dinner last night: Barbecued chicken thigh and salad.
The list of annual events cancelled for 2020 grows geometrically every day. And one caught my eye because it happens usually around this time of year.
Ten years ago, I had business to attend to in Texas. And also I participated in some frivolity with a good friend/former work colleague who lives there.
He took me to the Texas State Fair.
Yee-hah!
For the uneducated non-cowpokes out there, this is a big deal every year at this time. From the end of September to the middle of October, this humongous amusement park is set up at the foot of the Cotton Bowl outside of downtown Dallas. An odd time to have a fair, what with kids back in school? Well, the option is to have it in the dead of summer when no one in Texas wants to leave the coolness of their bedroom closet. Yep, early October works better.
This fair has been a-happening since around 1836 when there were probably regular fights between Cowboys and Indians. Now, it's simply a place where low income families can spend their hard earned food stamps. But, regardless, an evening there and you quickly become a full blown Texan.
Yee-hah! There's a lofty admission fee, but there are plenty of promotions which cut down the entrance fee. On this night, empty Dr. Pepper cans did the trick. I'm glad I wasn't there on Kotex Night.
Those cans that were not Dr. Pepper could get placed in the official Texas State Fair trash. This is Texas, so the bigger the car, the better the American. As you can see, people will park anywhere when they want to go to the Texas State Fair.
Fun miniature dirt races. Moments later, the blue car crashed into the wall and, I kid you not, the driver was some Asian youngster.
There's an awful lot of walking involved at the fair and I was tempted to rent one of these frequent sponsors of overnight television.
There are some museums at the fair. But, unless there was an exhibit devoted to Al Sharpton's leisure suits or a collection of Marion Barry mug shots, I wasn't interested.
This is Big Tex and he towers over the entire fair. Supposedly, the statue's mouth moves and it talks. Not while I was there. That's what you get when your admission price is an empty can of Dr. Pepper.
There is a nightly parade at the Texas State Fair. Just like the Electrical Parade at Disneyland? Not hardly. The biggest attraction is the Marine band shown above. The rest are floats made in some seventh grade shop class. The other big attraction? Oldies music played by the local Shriners.
The Texas Heritage Hall of Honor is certainly not affiliated with the aforementioned African-American Museum. Because all the inductees are white.
No, the movie isn't playing here. Nor is it a book signing with author Fannie Flagg. It's simply one of dozens and dozens of stands where you can get something fried. Not grilled or sauteed or boiled. Fried. It's all fried.
Or barbecued. Does anybody really like their bologna cooked on a grill? Really? Meanwhile, I also saw a sign for "Fried Butter." Throughout the park, you literally see folks walking around holding a turkey leg like an ice cream cone. Or a pickle deep fried in batter. There's not a cholesterol score under 300 in the entire state. I also got to enjoy a Turtle. That would be cheesecake frozen on a stick and covered in chocolate. It finally digested about three days later.
What's a fair without rides? Well, one of the biggest at the Texas State Fair is this ferris wheel. Tall is not the word. I looked up at it and decided that the only way I was going to get up that high is via a private elevator. This thing towers over the entire fair.
The good news is that it cost me zero coupons for this view of the legendary Cotton Bowl. You can't do anything at this place unless you have a book of coupons. You need them to eat. You need them to go on a ride. You might even need them to use the bathroom, but that's unconfirmed. When you look at the coupons, you realize that one coupon is equal to fifty cents. There was one thrill ride called the Slingshot. It propels you into something just short of outer space. You need fifty coupons to ride it. Doing the math, this two minute screamfest will cost you the equivalent of 25 bucks.
And, given this is a Texas fair, you naturally get to see some live animals. Some even better looking than the slobs in the photo above. And they are living and breathing. Not robotics like you might find in Disneyland.
You get to feed all the animals there. But, of course, what goes in does come out. And the only sight more common than these animals eating is the same animals shitting. Frequently.
You can get perilously close to these things.
Lots of these billy goats were locking horns. For all I know, this could be the Texas State Legislature.
On one of our writing projects, we wrote in a gag about five runaway alpacas. Now that I have seen them up close, I apologize to my producer.
You don't want to know what came out thirty seconds later.
If only these poor little things, innocently sucking on their mom, knew how much of them will be ultimately barbecued or deep fried at the Texas State Fair next year.
Here's the one ride I was talked into going on. The Crazy Mouse. Looks tame. Some twists and turns, but you don't go up too high. Uh-huh. Your car spins around in circles as it is happening. Absolutely horrifying.
I had it in my naive little head that I would Flip videotape the whole experience. Well, I didn't quite finish the job as you will see. It's tough to shoot a video when you are undergoing severe whiplash.
Meanwhile, they don't have a car out with less than four passengers. So, my friend and I were partnered off with two little Mexican kids who may have wanted me to adopt them. As you can see, the whole experience mummified yours truly. As for the youngsters, the ride was a breeze and probably was an upgrade compared to hiding out in a car trunk.
As I said before....yee-hah. Lots of fun. Back in the day when we were allowed to have some.
Dinner last night: Grilled Taylor Ham on pretzel bread.
One of the predicaments offered by the pandemic was the inability to go to my favorite diner, Cafe 50s, on Santa Monica Boulevard. Oh, they have tables on the sidewalk but it's not the same.
But, isn't a diner just a diner? Nope. Not when you can play a bunch of tunes with the table side juke boxes. Five songs for a dollar. See how the juke box theme ties in?
Well, when I go to Cafe 50s, I play the same songs every time. I almost know the numbers by heart. And here is one of them. A big hit apparently in 1956. It sounded like it was the sound track to a movie western. And maybe it was.
Here's a pasta salad that is a meal in itself. All you need is a loaf of bread and maybe a glass of red wine. This is another gem of a recipe I stole from Valerie Bertinelli. Something called Pasta Salad Alla Norma....whoever the hell she is. The end result, however, is no mystery. An explosion of flavors. It can be chilled or warmed. Start with a large to medium eggplant. Slice it up into 3/4 inch cubes. Put them in a colander with a little salt and let them rest there for about an hour with an occasional toss. Once the hour is up, lay the eggplant pieces between two sheets of paper towels so that the water is all absorbed. In a pot, cook a 12 ounce box of penne rigate as directed on the box. In a skillet, heat up a 1/3 cup of EVO until it shimmers. Add the eggplant and cook for about five minutes. Then add two cups of cherry tomatoes, 1 minced clove of garlic, and two tablespoons of drained capers. Let it all simmer and blend. Drain the penne and keep aside. When cool, lay it into a serving dish. Then pour in the eggplant mixture. Mix in one tablespoon of red wine vinegar. Let it all cool together in the refrigerator. Just prior to serving, add eight ounces of mozzarella pearls and some fresh chopped basil. You're done. Serve the salad. Slice the bread. Uncork the wine. Enjoy! Dinner last night: Chicken sausage and potato salad.
Happy birthday, Julio Iglesias. See you down by the school yard. 1122: POPE CALLIXTUS II AND HOLY ROMAN EMPEROR HENRY V AGREE TO THE CONCORDAT OF WORMS. The mention of worms? Never good. 1215: EMPEROR KUBLAI KHAN IS BORN. Great, great grandfather to Chaka. 1409: BATTLE OF KHERLEN, THE SECOND SIGNIFICANT VICTORY OVER MING CHINA BY THE MONGOLS SINCE 1368. I read all about it in a blog. Kherlen Speaks. 1641: THE MERCHANT ROYAL, CARRYING A TREASURE WORTH OVER A BILLION US DOLLARS, IS LOST AT SEA. A billion dollars dumped overboard. The 1641 version of affordable health care. 1642: THE FIRST COMMENCEMENT EXERCISES OCCUR AT HARVARD. In September? They have some kinks to work out. 1779: THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION - JOHN PAUL JONES ON BOARD THE USS BONHOMME RICHARD WINS THE BATTLE OF FLAMBOROUGH HEAD. Way to go, JP. 1780: THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION - BRITISH MAJOR JOHN ANDRE IS ARRESTED AS A SPY BY AMERICAN SOLDIERS EXPOSING BENEDICT ARNOLD'S CHANGE OF SIDES. What??? Benedict Arnold is a turncoat??? 1806: LEWIS AND CLARK RETURN TO ST. LOUIS AFTER EXPLORING THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST OF THE US. Just in time for playoff baseball. 1845: THE KNICKERBOCKERS BASEBALL CLUB, THE FIRST BASEBALL TEAM TO PLAY UNDER THE MODERN RULES, IS FOUNDED. Wait. Isn't there another team they would be playing? 1869: TYPHOID MARY IS BORN. Mary, Typhoid as printed in the phone book. 1889: NINTENDO KOPPAI IS FOUNDED TO PRODUCE AND MARKET THE PLAYING CARD GAME OF HANAFUDA. Yes, that Nintendo. 1897: ACTOR WALTER PIDGEON IS BORN. Mr. Miniver. 1909: THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, A NOVEL, IS FIRST PUBLISHED. Boy, will this have some residuals??!! 1920: ACTOR MICKEY ROONEY IS BORN. He probably kept the same height all his life. 1927: SINGER MIGHTY JOE YOUNG IS BORN. Not the ape. 1930: SINGER RAY CHARLES IS BORN. Georgia on his mind. 1943: WORLD WAR II - THE NAZI PUPPET STATE IN THE ITALIAN SOCIAL REPUBLIC IS FOUNDED. Why do I think these weren't exactly Muppets? 1943: SINGER JULIO IGLESIAS IS BORN. My mother loved his records. But whose mother didn't? 1945: ACTOR PAUL PETERSEN IS BORN. I traded e-mails with him on a project about ten years ago. Nice guy. 1947: ACTRESS MARY KAY PLACE IS BORN. I've always thought she was very underrated as an actress. 1949: SINGER BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN IS BORN. Yes, gang, I am not a fan. Never saw him in person. Never wanted to. 1952: RICHARD NIXON MAKES HIS FAMOUS CHECKERS SPEECH. King me. 1962: THE LINCOLN CENTER FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS OPENS IN NEW YORK CITY. Funny because it still looks new. 1969: THE CHICAGO EIGHT TRIAL OPENS IN CHICAGO. The Chicago Nine were busy losing the NL East to the Mets at the same time. 1973: JUAN PERON RETURNS TO POWER IN ARGENTINA. Soon to be a musical in your town. 1974: ACTOR CLIFF ARQUETTE DIES. Charlie Weaver! 1981: ACTOR CHIEF DAN GEORGE DIES. I always get him mixed up with that other Indian who was crying about the garbage on the road. 1986: JIM DESHAIES OF THE HOUSTON ASTROS SETS THE MAJOR LEAGUE RECORD BY STRIKING OUT THE FIRST EIGHT BATTERS OF THE GAME AGAINST THE LOS ANGELES DODGERS. Two silhouettes....
1987: DANCER/DIRECTOR BOB FOSSE DIES. And all that jazz. 1988: JOSE CANSECO OF THE OAKLAND ATHLETICS BECOMES THE FIRST MEMBER OF THE 40-40 CLUB. Yeah, but I still remember him most for the ball hitting him in the head and then bouncing over the wall. 1998: ACTRESS MARY FRANN DIES. The TV wife of Bob Newhart that nobody remembers. 1999: CELEBRATE BISEXUALITY DAY IS FIRST OBSERVED IN THE US. I can't make up my mind which joke to use. 2002: THE FIRST PUBLIC VERSION OF THE WEB BROWSER MOZILLA FIREFOX IS RELEASED. The most recent version messed up my laptop. Dinner last night: Steak salad.
Boy, I hope my social media friends mourn me as much when I pass on. Over this past weekend, you couldn't sign on to any computer without hearing some virtual sobbing and wailing over the death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. It literally did not stop for three solid days. One Facebook friend called her passing "untimely."
Huh???????
She was 87 and lived with all sorts of cancers for the past ten years. As it was, she shriveled away to such a point that she could probably be buried in a cigar box. Um, untimely??
Well, the timing is ridiculous because it dovetails the Presidential election and, since Ginsburg was pretty vocal in her vitriole of Trump, this replacement pick will get damn ugly. If you thought the fight over the last Justice (Cavenaugh) was horrific, you ain't seen nothing yet, folks.
But, for now, we weep because we are now...gag...Ruth-less. Instagram posts are adorned with her portrait as if she was some sort of super model. Please make it stop. It's not like she was Marilyn Monroe.
Okay, I salute her for the time on the bench and the various empowering statements she gave to women and girls. And, allegedly, she was a trusted colleague with all the other Justices. Good for her.
That said, she was essentially a screwball leftist who used her seat to forge through legislation that is of no business to the Supreme Court. But, in reality, she was simply following precedents previously set.
Ginsburg's death reminds me all over again of how totally bankrupt the Supreme Court has become in America. Oh, in concept and theory, it should work as the founding fathers established it. But, like most things in this country, politics stuck its beak in. Woodrow Wilson was the first to figure out how to pack the court with like-minded folks and use it for his own purposes. FDR was the one who took that notion to a higher art form. And SCROTUS (I know it's misspelled) has been a mess ever since.
So, sitting Presidents get to pick and they like to put their own ideology in a seat when they can. That goes for both Democrats and Republicans, both equally guilty of such offenses. And the approval process each time becomes a shit show. This next one will be off the charts.
Of course, it was noted that Ginsburg wanted her replacement to be another screaming liberal. But timing is everything. Had she really wanted that to happen, I would have suggested that she step down while Barack Obama was still President and the getting was, as they said, good. But, no, she hung onto the seat like it was the last kosher dill pickle at the deli.
And now we have yet another fine mess for all of us.
Last night was a momentous date in television history. Fifty years ago...on a Saturday night...just like yesterday, "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" premiered on CBS. Forever changing the sitcom world.
And me.
"The Mary Tyler Moore Show" came around about the time I could actually tell the difference between a great television show and a bad one. Smack in the middle of CBS' Saturday night block of the best shows ever telecast together in one single night, MTM, in its own quiet way, raised television comedy writing to a level that has never been achieved since. Forget "Seinfeld" and "Cheers" and "The Office." This was the pinnacle of it all and will never be topped again.
Although I personally try. Because this show has stayed with me so deeply that it cuts into my own work. There are many times when I am working on something with my writing partner and he will chirp "You can't do that line. It was on Mary." Or I will resort to what I call a Ted Baxter moment. You know, somebody says a line about something being stupid and in walks Ted. Big laugh. Ha ha. Then I hear it all over again.
"That's what they would do on Mary."
I usually take out the reference, but now wonder what's so bad about that. Is using "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" as your writing textbook such a negative? Especially these days when one lousy sitcom is a direct and unfortunate copy of another lousy sitcom.
Okay, maybe I have gone too far with my reliance on the MTM world. Actually, I started doing that at a much younger age. Apparently, imitation and borderline plagarism has no age restrictions. I'll splain....and, yes, there I am copying a line from another great comedy.
When I was going to Fordham University in the Bronx, I hung out at the college radio station WFUV which has been previously heralded in this blog. I didn't really have a focus or a concentration there. I did a little celebrity interviewing. I tried baseball play by play. I did some on-air news reporting. None of it provided a solid niche. Some of it I was downright awful at. I was a little lost. I needed something I could take my own personal pride in. And I hit on an idea that was perfect for me.
A radio version of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show."
Well, not really a direct copy. But so many elements of "Diploma City" were lifted from the MTM show that I realize there's a very fine line of difference between heist and robbery. I created characters and locations very similar, but placed them as college students in a Philadelphia college.
Character names were derived from the writing staff of the MTM Show. There was a male version of Rhoda and a female version of Lou Grant. I had a girl Murray and a resident advisor like Phyllis. The only non-gender switch was in the Ted Baxter character. My version was named Milton Harper and the buffoon transferred intact. I even mimicked the format of the MTM show. Scenes switched from the dorm to the newspaper office back to the dorm and then maybe to the local college hangout. If anybody from MTM Enterprises had cause to put on their car radio while driving through the Bronx, there would be a certain lawsuit.
Of course, while the TV show had such pros as Valerie Harper, Cloris Leachman, and Edward Asner, my casting coups rotated around my circle of friends.
"Hey, you wanna be on a comedy show?"
Before long, the weekly party was on. Intially, we would try to rehearse prior to taping. Eventually, we realized that rehearsal didn't really make a difference as that is reserved for professional actors of which I had none. Zip. Nada. Now, several of those cast members are still in my world to this day. A few even post comments here on this blog. They are all dear friends.
And lousy actors. Indeed, revisiting some of these tapes today, I could easily publish a book entitled "When Bad Actors Happen to Good Scripts." On second thought, perhaps that should be "When Bad Actors Happen to Mediocre Scripts." Yeah, I wasn't exactly the comedic hotshot I thought I was.
But, for three seasons of 90 episodes, we sure as hell had a lot of fun. The same merging of talent that happens over time on an ensemble comedy TV show also happened on "Diploma City." The acting and writing did improve the more we did it. And the tapings were great weekly gatherings for a great bunch of friends. Several started to date each other. If somebody in the cast started dating, we'd cast the new girlfriend or boyfriend as...the character's new girlfriend or boyfriend. Nepotism was rampant, just like in Hollywood.
There was one time where we absolutely had no episodes in the can and we needed one for the following week. But there was no studio time booked. We rolled a ton of equipment over to the dorms and actually taped it in somebody's living room. We flew by the seats of our pants. And, at least for me, it was pure exhilaration.
In the first year, our little half hour show usually came in a lot shorter than that. No one paid attention to time and I had no concept of how scripts should be paced or moved along. But, eventually, I got my creative chops down and then often had trouble confining the plot and dialogue to 30 minutes. We just got so good at what we were doing that we paid little attention to time constraints, which was fine if you weren't the host of the rock music show that followed.
To tighten the MTM connections even further, I hit on a 150 watt light bulb of an idea to promote our show during the station's annual fundraising marathon. What if I got somebody from the MTM Show to be on our show and make a pitch for WFUV? I called MTM's publicist in Hollywood and this was surprisingly easy to set up. Per my specific request, I was given the appropriate time and phone number so I could engage Ted Knight for the task.
We awaited the appointed day and time as if it were Christmas morning. In advance, I fashioned a scene of dialogue that would break the fourth wall between one of our cast members and Ted. Then, Ted would go into his plug for listeners to send dough to WFUV.
At the hour of our reckoning, I called Ted and he was incredibly gracious. I essentially explained to him what we were doing and I recited the dialogue so he could copy it over the phone. We rolled tape and it went well.
For about a minute.
Suddenly, Ted's mind veered off the road as if he was trying to avoid hitting a deer with his car. He started to ramble about WFUV and Fordham, which made virtually no sense in the context of the show. Amazingly, my actor followed Ted down into Confusionville and what resulted was a hilariously funny but impromptu conversation that I ran virtually unedited. Besides, I felt I had no creative license to ask Ted Knight for a second take.
We were very proud of "Diploma City," but I now realize we could never hold a candle to the work they were doing on "The Mary Tyler Moore Show." There are comedic moments in the body of that series that could only be crafted in heaven. Witness below excerpts of perhaps the best written episode in television comedy history. Chuckles The Clown bites the dust. Famed writer and blogger Ken Levine was actually at the taping of this episode. This scene was done in only two takes. Mary was flawless in both.
God, I wished I could write like that. As much as I try, I can't.
How about a birthday curtain call for the show that is #3 on my personal list of My Top 25 Favorite TV Programs of All Time.
Dinner last night: Hot and sour soup, Tangerine beef, and egg fried rice from Chin Chin.
Talk about timely. Fifty years ago on this very day, we first saw the opening to the "Mary Tyler Moore" show. A television classic. There will be a tribute on this blog tomorrow. Dinner last night: Grilled Taylor ham, egg, and cheese on English muffin.
Somewhere there is a movie playing in a theater. Just not here in Los Angeles. Or New York. So, in COVID Land, I run through another month without a Weekend Movie Guide. Thank God for copying and pasting. Let's travel back ten years to what was playing in the theaters then. Replete with an opening history lesson. Ah, the old days. Hell, I don't even remember this. Here is a shot of Radio City Music Hall with the Sixth Avenue Elevated subway station in the foreground. Huh? This was torn down long before I even entered the famed showplace of the nation. Times may have changed, but we still want to check out a movie on a weekend. Except nowadays there is rarely anything to see. As evidenced below. You folks know my monthly drill. I'll cull through the Los Angeles Times and tell you what's out there in cinemaland. I'll also give you my knee-jerk reaction to all the crap oozing into our multiplexes. The operative word there is, of course, "crap." Jack Goes Boating: And Jill? Where is she? Philip Seymour Hoffman as a limo driver on a blind date. Or is that a blind limo driver? Which would mean that I might want to call another car service. This is a lot of verbiage to explain that I simply have no interest in this movie. Alpha and Omega in 3D: I guess everything can be in 3D these days. It certainly would have improved how I viewed algebra and geometry. Machete: This doesn't make my cut. Easy A: Some dreary and mindless chick flick. For the dreary and mindless chick in your life. Going the Distance: Okay, okay, full disclosure. I saw it. I like Drew Barrymore. Sue me. As for the flick, it was a little disconcerting. Drew looks horrible in this movie. Did she suddenly hit the age wall? Wow! The girl got old in a big city hurry. The Town: I'm conflicted. This film about a bank heist got very good reviews. But it's directed by Ben Affleck, who is a complete mystery of a talent. What to do, what to do, what to do? You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger: Woody Allen's annual movie and, as has been his recent history, it's shot in England. Woody, it's okay to take a year off. As a matter of fact, if you want to retire, that's okay, too. Don't you want to stay home and play with your kids, I mean, your wife? Takers: Another bank heist yarn. Rapper Chris Brown is in it, so count on some domestic violence as well. Catfish: Filmmakers Ariel Schulman and Henry Joost document a story involving Ariel's brother, Nev, a 24-year-old New York-based photographer, and Abby, an 8-year-old girl from rural Michigan who contacts Nev via Facebook, asking for permission to make a painting from one of his photographs. It was a matter of time before we'd see movies about Facebook. Coming soon: Farmville - the Movie Never Let Me Go: As children, Ruth, Kathy and Tommy, spend their childhood at a seemingly idyllic English boarding school. As they grow into young adults, they find that they have to come to terms with the strength of the love they feel for each other, while preparing themselves for the haunting reality that awaits them. Even folks with sleep apnea will be able to get through this without their naps uninterrupted. The American: George Clooney as an assassin. He'll shoot anybody that remembers he once was a regular on "The Facts of Life." Legends of the Guardians - The Owls of Ga'hoole: If you can correctly remember this title when you get to the box office, they should let you in for free. Wall Street - Money Never Sleeps: Oliver Stone giving us an update on a movie that sucked the first time. Michael Douglas' Oscar for the original was one of the most misguided Best Actor awards ever. And that was when he was healthy. Can you imagine what the Academy will give him now that he's sick? You Again: The trailers play up the fact that Betty White has a supporting role, which means the rest of the movie stinks. Betty, please, I beg you. It's okay to stay home once in a while. Macrame. Knitting. Farmville on Facebook. You don't have to work all the time. Buried: Ryan Reynolds trapped in a casket. Won't we all be? Resident Evil - Afterlife: There were three other Resident Evil movies before this one? You're kidding, right? Eat Pray Love: Still Won't See. The Last Exorcism: Let's hope so. Devil: M. Night Shyamalan's latest attempt to rescue his directing career. A group of people stuck in an elevator realize that Satan is among them. I'm thinking it's time for M. Night to pack it and get the night manager's job down at Rite Aid. The Other Guys: The still-perplexing-to-me Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg in a buddy comedy and they are definitely no friends of mine.
Waiting for Superman: A documentary about the country's public school systems. Also being classified under "horror" and "science fiction."
The Virginity Hit: I have no clue what this "comedy" is about, except the title has been adorning bus shelters all over NY and LA. I see Will Ferrell listed as a producer. Well, that's as good as a bad restaurant report from the Board of Health for me. Dinner last night: Bacon cheeseburger at Bob's Big Boy.
And so is my apartment building complex thanks to some nifty surveillance cameras. Who knew that I would be able to follow up my Tuesday blog entry about the thug who broke in and ripped off our mailboxes last weekend so soon? But here you go. A photo of the thief at the front door. And it's a thief-ess. I'm so thrilled that women are getting the opportunity to commit crimes just as much as their husbands, brothers, and baby daddies. So let's examine this slob a little closer. Obviously, she eats at least four weekly meals at McDonald's. The ski hat has a pompom on top. Or maybe that's a rainbow sprinkle donut. Hard to tell as high definition on hidden cameras is not always available. Moving down her ample torso and we see some nifty bling on her wrists. A-ha. She is obviously very good at what she does. Probably "commutes" to the nice neighborhood from some other hood which features Maxine Waters as their Congressperson. My guess is that there was a getaway car driven by her husband, brother, or Baby Daddy. No doubt a high-end car that I can't afford. Perhaps adorned with a "Biden/Harris" bumper sticker. And, wait, there's bonus footage. You want to see this hopefully-future-COVID-19-victim (well, she's not wearing a mask) actually rifle through our mailboxes.
Not exactly a great angle unless you really like to look at a really fat ass. Luckily, I had emptied my box the previous evening. I doubt she would have enjoyed my mail anyway. Last week's edition of "Variety." The police have all this information but I'm sure she's not a local. Crooks never are. My fervent hope is that next month I get to include her in my regular gallery of mug shots. Bitch. Dinner last night: Leftover tri-tip.
In advance, I fashioned a scene of dialogue that would break the fourth wall between one of our cast members and Ted. Then, Ted would go into his plug for listeners to send dough to WFUV. 
