August is Always Mug-gy Weather

 Larry Fine called.  He wants his hair cut back.

 Illegal alien.  And I don't mean the kind from Earth.

 Sadly, this is some poor kid's grandfather.

Ironically arrested for robbing a dentist.

 Super size me.

 Doesn't this look like one of the characters Eddie Murphy played in "The Nutty Professor?"

 That fine line between comedy and tragedy.

 Too bad she's going to miss that beauty parlor appointment.

 Your mother!

 Age Five called.  They want their pajamas back.

 Oh, my God!  They've arrested Tinker Bell for money laundering.

Trust me.  The guys in the shower will appreciate you for this.

Dinner last night:  Hamburger.

Me and You and This Movie Review

This little independent movie came to me highly recommended.   And it's garnered some impressive film festival accolades.  So I figure this will be a small diamond in the rough.

Maybe it is.   Maybe it isn't.   As I left my screening of "Me and Earl and The Dying Girl," I was wondering what all the fuss was about.  Don't get me wrong.   This is stylishly made.   It is well acted.   I just didn't have any great emotional churn inside of me when it was over.

Maybe a large part of the problem is that I have seen this plot probably 40 or 50 times before.   It's so familiar that I knew exactly how these story arcs would play out twenty minutes before they did.  They're as predictable as Christmas Eve on December 24.  I even knew that the flagrant lie the main character tells in his voice over narration was just that...a fib.  If movie plots are going to be this telegraphed, you don't need writers.   Just call Western Union.

This is another "I am a weird-do and don't fit in anywhere in my high school" film.  The narrator...Me, as it would be be...works hard to be connected to all the key cliques and splinter groups in school even if he doesn't fit any of their profiles.  His best friend is Earl, perhaps the most stereotyped Black character of film since the days of Willie Best.   The two of them together make sock puppet versions of famous classic movies.   Like "A Sockwork Orange."  And their rendition of "Vertigo" called "Where'd He Go."  Uh-huh.  Meanwhile, you see some of these films and the claymation and stop action photography is so reminiscent of the work of filmmaker George Pal during the 1950s.  The only difference was that his stuff is good.

Of course, those two meet up with Rachel, who's got leukemia and looking pale almost from her first frame.   There is friendship.   There is pathos.   There is everything that you totally expect from Screenwriting 1o1.

Don't get me wrong.   There is a lot that's interesting about this movie.   Hey, any film that deals with the crap we all have to put up with in high school is aces with me.  But, while compelling at times, "Me and Earl and The Dying Girl" falls victim to overkill at the hands of the director.   Less should be more here.   But, indeed, Me is way too weird, Earl is way too stereotyped, and the Dying Girl is way too sick.  A hammer is used when a small chamois cloth would have been better.

And, in case, you thought all the weirdness stopped with the kids here, please be assured that the parents depicted are no more normal.  I give some exception, however, to the always welcome Molly Shannon as the mom of the girl who's at the door of death.  But even she comes off with too many quirks and ticks.   Hey, I know she can be normal.   I sat across from her once while flying from NY to LA.

I actually wanted to like this movie as much as my recommending cohorts did.   But, try as it may, the film succumbs at the end.  There is just too, too much about...well, too, too much.

LEN'S RATING:  Two stars.

Dinner last night:  Stir fry pork with vegetables in garlic sauce.

This Date in History - August 5

Happy birthday to Maureen McCormick.  Oh, Marcia, Marcia, Marcia.

25:  GUANGWU CLAIMS THE THRONE AS EMPEROR AFTER A PERIOD OF POLITICAL TURMOIL, RESTORING THE HAN DYNASTY.

I wonder if Han Dynasty delivers.

642:  BATTLE OF MASERFIELD - PENDA OF MERCIA AND KILLS OSWALD OF NORTHUMBRIA.

Oh, Mercia, Mercia, Mercia.

1100:  HENRY I IS CROWNED KING OF ENGLAND.

Seven more King Henrys until we get to the real fun one.

1305:  WILLIAM WALLACE, WHO LED THE SCOTTISH RESISTANCE AGAINST ENGLAND, IS CAPTURED AND TRANSPORTED TO LONDON WHERE HE IS PUT ON TRIAL AND EXECUTED.

All in one day???

1583:  SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT ESTABLISHES THE FIRST ENGLISH COLONY IN NORTH AMERICA, AT WHAT IS NOW ST. JOHN'S, NEWFOUNDLAND, AND LABRADOR.

...retriever.

1620:  THE MAYFLOWER DEPARTS FROM ENGLAND ON ITS FIRST ATTEMPT TO REACH NORTH AMERICA.

So does this mean they didn't get there the first time?

1735:  FREEDOM OF THE PRESS - NEW YORK WEEKLY JOURNAL WRITER JOHN PETER ZENGER IS ACQUITTED OF SEDITIOUS LIBEL AGAINST THE ROYAL GOVERNOR OF NEW YORK, ON THE BASIS THAT WHAT HE HAD PUBLISHED WAS TRUE.

Back when journalism was still alive.

1763:  BRITISH FORCES LED BY HENRY BOUQUET DEFEAT CHIEF PONTIAC'S INDIANS AT BUSHY RUN.

I assume they were beat in battle and not on the softball field.

1772:  THE FIRST PARTITION OF POLAND BEGINS.

So before this, there were no walls in Poland?

1858:  CYRUS WEST FIELD AND OTHERS COMPLETE THE FIRST TRANSATLANTIC TELEGRAPH CABLE AFTER SEVERAL UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPTS.  IT WILL OPERATE FOR LESS THAN A MONTH.

So overall, this was not so successful.

1861:  IN ORDER TO HELP PAY FOR THE CIVIL WAR EFFORT, THE US GOVERNMENT LEVIES THE FIRST INCOME TAX AS PART OF THE REVENUE ACT OF 1861.

Yeah, this won't be the first time.

1861:  THE US ARMY ABOLISHES FLOGGING.

That's a shame.

1874:  JAPAN LAUNCHES ITS POSTAL SAVINGS SYSTEM, MODELED AFTER A SIMILAR SYSTEM IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.

No clue what this means and whether or not I care.

1882:  THE STANDARD OIL OF NEW JERSEY IS ESTABLISHED.

Hence those big tanks on the side of the turnpike.

1884:  THE CORNERSTONE FOR THE STATUE OF LIBERTY IS LAID ON LIBERTY ISLAND.

With that torch, she could light a cigarette after being laid.

1888:  BERTHA BENZ DRIVES FROM MANNHEIM IN THE FIRST LONG DISTANCE AUTO TRIP.

I don't know which joke to go with.  1.  Bertha, meet Mercedes.  Or..... 2. Driving from Mannheim, did she use a steamroller.

1906:  DIRECTOR/ACTOR JOHN HUSTON IS BORN.

Badges.  We don't need no stinkin' badges.

1911:  ACTOR ROBERT TAYLOR IS BORN.

I had two jokes on one entry above.  For this one, I have none.

1914:  IN CLEVELAND, OHIO, THE FIRST ELECTRIC TRAFFIC LIGHT IS INSTALLED.  

Which means that there was a person who was the first not to stop at it.

1926:  HARRY HOUDINI PERFORMS HIS GREATEST FEAT, SPENDING 91 MINUTES UNDERWATER IN A SEALED TANK BEFORE ESCAPING.

I've sat on the runway at JFK longer.

1930:  ASTRONAUT NEIL ARMSTRONG IS BORN.

One small step, one big push from Mommy...

1943:  BASEBALL PLAYER NELSON BRILES IS BORN.

An average pitcher who I once interviewed mainly because he did a Paul Lynde impersonation.

1944:  WORLD WAR II - POSSIBLY THE BIGGEST PRISON BREAKOUT IN HISTORY OCCURS AS 545 JAPANESE POWS ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE IN AUSTRALIA.

Australia?  Why would you want to leave?

1944:  WORLD WAR II - THE NAZIS BEGIN A WEEK-LONG MASSACRE OF ANYWHERE BETWEEN 40,000 AND 100,000 CIVILIANS AND PRISONERS IN POLAND.

Now that is a wild swing in estimates.

1945:  ACTRESS LONI ANDERSON IS BORN.

If she wore a t-shirt for her old show, it would read W k r P.  Think about it.

1956:  ACTRESS MAUREEN MCCORMICK IS BORN.

She was hot, but I really dug Jan with those glasses.

1957:  AMERICAN BANDSTAND DEBUTS ON THE ABC TELEVISION NETWORK.

Dick Clark had a free hour to kill every week.

1958:  HERBERT HOOVER ECLIPSES JOHN ADAMS AS HAVING THE LONGEST RETIREMENT OF ANY FORMER PRESIDENT UNTIL THAT TIME.  IT HAS SINCE BEEN ECLIPSED BY JIMMY CARTER.

The latter couldn't have been retired soon enough.

1962:  ACTRESS MARILYN MONROE DIES.

Dies.  Ha ha.

1969: MARINER 7 MAKES ITS CLOSEST FLY-BY OF MARS.

I wonder if man will ever make this trip.

1981:  PRESIDENT RONALD REAGAN FIRES 11,359 STRIKING AIR-TRAFFIC CONTROLLERS WHO IGNORED HIS ORDER FOR THEM TO RETURN TO WORK.

That's one long line at the unemployment office.

2000:  ACTOR ALEC GUINNESS DIES.

Sir Alec to you.

2002:  SPORTSCASTER CHICK HEARN DIES.

Really in that refrigerator now.

Dinner last night:  Chef's salad.

Moron of the Month - August 2015

Well, this technically happened in the last week of July. But I am guessing this woman is still as much of a moron seven days later as she was then.

Let me tell you how much and how it actually scares the bejeebers out of me in a big way.

So, it's Yasiel Puig Bobblehead Night at Dodger Stadium.  I'm sitting in my season seats and this "lady" and her white-haired husband/boyfriend/trick are seated right in front of me 

Okay, people who have enjoyed my company at a baseball game know that the humor is fast and raucous for me at these events.   All good natured.  Nothing profane or obscene or inappropriate as there are often children around.

Folks who read this blog also know that I have just finished reading the new book on the 2013-2014 Los Angeles Dodgers by Molly Knight.  When you wrestle with the contents of this terrific story, you come away with a real disdain for outfielder Yasiel Puig.  He comes off like an immature two-year-old who is lazy to boot.  I've known this for a while and I haven't been a fan.  And, yes, I have razzed him and his Cuban refugee background.

"Get back on the raft."

"Castro's on the phone.  He's looking for you."

"We should trade you back for a box of cigars."

If you're chuckling now, I've done my job.  

So, on Yasiel Puig Bobblehead Night, he naturally plays the outfield with his head up his ass and overruns a ball that allows a runner to advance.  I am quick to respond.  But it's relatively mild for yours truly.

"What an idiot."

It was the best I could do at a moment's notice.

But, my comment landed on the ears of this blonde bitch in front of me.  And she was not deaf.   She sternly turned around.

"You keep your contents to yourself."

It was so sudden that I expected her to smile as a punctuation.  It had to be said in jest.  It was not.  The look she gave me was glaring.

When she turned around, my immediate reaction was to take my scorecard pen and plunge it into her skull.  But I held back.  Besides, I didn't have another pen to complete the game.

So I backed off the rest of the night.  And really said very little.   Oh, I had a dozen or so things I wanted to say to her.  For instance...

"It's so nice you brought your son to the game."

"Puig might be inept in the outfield, but so is the person who colors your hair."

Or after I got a full front look of the facial shit show she was wearing...

"Trick or treat."

But I did not.   And sadly fell victim to this censorship.   Suddenly, it's not okay to razz a player at a baseball game?

Maybe this little, innocuous incident bothered me too much.   Or perhaps not enough.   Because, when you get right down to it, it's really emblematic of a bigger problem that's happening in our society these days.  In a land where freedom of speech is so touted as a divine right, there are now so many ways in which our free speech is being restricted.

No matter what you do or say in this world, you now have to worry about offending some one.  So, so many topics are now off limits.  And talk about political correctness?   It has virtually destroyed humor in this nation.

They're talking about future boycotts of such "offensive" things like "Gone with the Wind" and "All in the Family" and whatever is going on with Harper Lee's book.  You have to choose your words ever so carefully now because there is always somebody like this platinum douche bag lurking around.

I'm not advocating evil or inappropriateness.  But, at what point do people like this woman stop?  PS, they don't because their entitlement is now way over the top.

So, an innocent comment at a Major League Baseball makes me think about the big picture.   And another vindication of a disturbing trend in America.

Of course, I'm always awaiting the day when this blog site is shut down as well.

Dinner last night:   Polynesian pork chop with teriyaki noodles.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - August 3, 2015

Summer fun.

Dinner last night:  Grilled steak salad.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Summer Games

On my recent trip to New York, I found a brand, spanking new cable network on my system there.   Some oddity called Buzzr...or Buzzer.   Sadly, it's not on my Direct TV in Los Angeles.   Hell, I miss it already.

Why?  Because it brought me right back to my youth.  Summer days in front of the tube.   

All about those wonderful TV game shows.  Reruns of the best of the best from the 60s, 70s, 80s, and...gasp...the 50s.

I remember it all vividly.   Those summer years between the ages of 11-15.  The purgatory of childhood.   Too old to pass the time playing with toys and too young to get a summer job.   What's a kid to do?

On those days when it was super hot outside, my pals "up the block" chilled it inside during the daytime hours.   Letting a living room AC or a kitchen window fan cool you down.   You sat in front of the television.   Oh, I got sucked into a soap opera or two with my grandmother.   But, the real gold back then was with TV game shows.   They filled your idle hours perfectly.

Let's start with this relic.  The original Match Game which I watched early on with my grandmother.   Half of the show was spent introducing the contestant teams and the celebrity guest.   When they finally got right down to play, it was grossly dull.   But I tuned in mainly to see which of my favorite TV stars was on so I could root for them.

Years later, the concept got rebooted in color and played for laughs.  Now you had six celebrities and not two.   There were some regulars, most notably Brett Somers and the hilarious Charles Nelson Reilly.  Comedy was integral here and some of the match questions were based on sexual innuendos.  

Better still, you know they taped five shows in the space of one night.   There was allegedly a dinner break in the middle and, from what I have been told, liquor was served.  So, the Thursday and Friday shows were always...well...a lot lot livelier.   And hilarious as this classic clip shows.

You don't get spontaneity on television like this any more.

Here's another one I watched with my grandmother because she would watch anything that involved Bill Cullen.   I remember very little about this show, but I do recall her fondness for the host.  Even though she never got his name right.

"Bill Collins is a very nice man."

It's Cullen.  Whatever.   

At one point, I must have read a TV Guide story that talked about Bill's polio and the fact that he walked with a metal brace.  Then I became consumed with seeing if I could ever spot that on the air.   But the cameras were wise and it rarely showed up.   I told my grandmother that Collins...I mean, Cullen...had polio.

"Oh, go on.  He's perfectly fine."

I countered that he wasn't.

"You talk crazy.  Now that stupid Roosevelt.  He was crippled."

Password intrigued my neighborhood because I had the proverbial home game. We'd watch our favorite celebrities play it on television during the afternoon and then sit on somebody's front stoop that night.  We'd fight over who got to be Garry Moore or Carol Burnett.  Usually, the one in our crowd with the deepest voice got to play the announcer.  Of course, the game always got a little silly.

"The password is...testicle."

While I was not a big fan of the Newlywed Game, I would like to watch celebrity married couples mix it up on Tattletales.  All of the sexual tongue-in-cheek stuff, however, was beyond my grandmother's comprehension.

"They talk so silly.  If I can't be any smarter than that, I'd stay home."

Okay, then...

I've Got a Secret.   This game show was not a summer treat, because it was on prime time television.  And it was admittedly a simple concept.  Somebody whispers a secret to host Garry Moore who was busy puffing away on his Winston cigarette.  The secret was usually something stupid and you wondered how this stayed on the air.  

"I just drove to the studio in a go-kart."

Yeah, sort of like that.   Another favorite of my grandmother's because it involved Bill Collins.   And her new best friend.

"That Bess Myerson is a nice lady."

Ah, now we're talking.   One of my summer favorites.

"The Hollywood Squares" would provide me and my grandmother with a super-extended family. And we had our favorite "relatives" on that big tic-tac-toe board. My grandmother loved Charlie Weaver, Wally Cox, and Rose Marie. I totally got into Suzanne Pleshette and the sorely missed Karen Valentine who I fantasized over privately. 

And then there was the ultimate center square. Paul Lynde. 

Say what you want about whether all his "zingers" were written for him in advance. There were no funnier two or three moments a day than when Paul Lynde got called on every day. And that lasted for about ten years. But, during those pre-teen years, I didn't know anything more about Paul Lynde than what I saw on the screen. And, for me, that was damn funny and more than enough. 

I was so Paul-manic in those days that I took to perfecting an imitation of him. And I would do it at the drop of a hat. Regardless of where I was or who I was with. I even remember answering questions in class as if I was the secret square of the day. 

Teacher: Can you tell me who shot Abraham Lincoln? 

Me (a la Paul Lynde): Eve Arden. 

Years later in college, I got to interview Paul and, at the end, I dropped my journalistic hat and did Paul for Paul. Perhaps a highlight of my life. And a lowlight at the very same time. But, I digress... 

The family my grandmother and I formed with "The Hollywood Squares" also mirrored life in some ways. We mourned the deaths of Charlie Weaver and Wally Cox. We went on with our existence. And so did the Squares. Long after I was no longer free for the summer, any days home from school or work would still find me in front of the set with my grandmother waiting for a Paul Lynde block.


Priceless.  Scripted or not.

Summer meant more than watching game shows during the day.  I got to stay up late and watch one of my favorite TV games at 10:30PM on Sunday nights.

"What's My Line?" was like a big party game at somebody's house.  The panelists could have been some configuration of my parents, aunts, and uncles who used to attack some kind of board game after one too many Schaefer beers.  Except the WML panelists were usually in formal attire with gowns by Bonwit Teller, while my family was decked out in EJ Korvette's finest.  

The TV folks looked like they were having such fun guessing the occupation of a couple of nobodys.  So were the folks at home.  In what was perhaps the simplest form of TV games, we watched this as a family unit.  My parents and grandparents gearing up for a week of work.  I was prepping for another summer week of horseplay.  And "What's My Line?" provided the best way to get that all started.

Beyond the odd occupations which frequently ranged from lady umpire to a false teeth polisher, the best part of the show for me was when they would truck out a mystery guest for which the panel was blindfolded.  Whoever was in NY showed up live on Sunday night to stump the panel.  They were usually in town to promote some movie or their week-long upcoming engagement at the Copacabana.  

Buzzr is running these things all over again and, oddly enough, I watched the whole series right through about a decade ago on the Game Show Network.   Still, the stuff never gets old for me.  Watch this wonderful clip where Groucho Marx demolishes the show.  Speaking of lady wrestlers...


It's amazing the flood of memories that can come back just because you channel flipped past a new cable network.

"And the password is...enjoyment."

Dinner last night:  Wonderful barbecue chicken and grilled veggies at the home of good friends Connie and Leo.

Classic TV Commercial of the Month - August 2015

And thinking about the Mets of yesterday, here's their official beer sponsor.

Dinner last night:  Bacon wrapped Dodger Dog at the game.