Run

Dr. Theresa and I took a little road trip in a car that had some of that satellite radio in it. The first song that popped up was by our pal Kelly Hogan, so that was a nice surprise. We also listened to a broadcast of Casey Kasem's "American Top 40" from 1975. One of the songs in the countdown was "Run, Joey, Run," which came rushing back to me. It's all about this guy Joey who is running. "Run, Joey, run, Joey, run!" urges the galumphing chorus. The song is narrated from Joey's point of view, but a woman keeps breaking in to sing, "Daddy please don't! It wasn't his fault! He means so much to me." You see, this young woman's father has murderous intentions toward Joey, which is why Joey must run. SPOILER ALERT! The woman sacrifices her life to save Joey! The last time she sings her little part we are supposed to think she is expiring! She goes, "Daddy please don't! It wasn't his fault! He means so much to me. Daddy please don't! We're gonna get married..." Only there is a big pause between "mar" and "ried," the latter syllable being one she can barely choke out because she is expiring, as some heavenly "oohs" signal thereafter. The single is credited to David Geddes (I think that's the name) but come on! Where is this woman's credit? She carries the whole thing with her drama. Plus the chorus is a bunch of other dudes telling him to "Run, Joey, run." When you think about it, he's barely in it at all. But HE's the one who got to prance around telling everybody about "his" top 40 hit. Hearing that song reminded me that there used to be a live-action Saturday morning show called RUN, JOE, RUN. It was about a dog accused of a crime he did not commit! And somehow I used to get the song and show, which were entirely unrelated, mixed up in my head. I thought you should know. Speaking of heads, here is the promised photo of John T. Edge measuring mine. To learn more, "click" here. (See also.) Photo by Blair Hobbs. PS I just watched the video of "Run, Joey, Run" and it turns out I was too hard on the singer. He's working for a living like anybody else! He does sing the chorus, it turns out, rather improbably encouraging himself to "run, Joey, run."

Correction

The woman who played Cissy in FAMILY AFFAIR did NOT "perish under tragic circumstances" as the schoolyard rumor would have it. Sadly, the girl who played her sister Buffy did. I recall that schoolyard rumor as well. But in my schoolyard, anyway, the entire cast of FAMILY AFFAIR was afflicted in one way or another. Happily, though, Cissy is alive and well and according to wikipedia she was promoting THE FAMILY AFFAIR COOKBOOK in Scottsdale, Arizona, just last year. There are probably no more schoolyard rumors. Google has destroyed them.

Dear Stinkpot

Ace Atkins and I went to Memphis yesterday to have adventures such as eating chicken. Ace had a peculiar book catalog in his truck. He got it in the mail. The publisher's specialty is "Books only you would like," as Ace put it to me. There is, for example, a biography of Bob Hope's sidekick Jerry Colonna. The catalog description is brief: "Written by Jerry Colonna's son!" it exclaims, and that's all. Here's another catalog description in its entirety: "Acting exercises from the voice of Yogi Bear!" For an autobiography of some guy: "He was more than the voice of Lucky Charms cereal!" Lots of exclamation points in the copy, but none for THE DAY THE STARS STOOD STILL. It's the "memoir of Logan Fleming, top wax artist" from the Movieland Wax Museum. The cover shows Mr. Fleming, I guess, in a kind of Ingmar Bergman shot, half of his face obscured by what I believe to be an eyeless wax figure of Richard Widmark. EYELESS! Is that supposed to be Richard Widmark? I don't know. But he sure is eyeless. So that's a book cover. THE FAMILY AFFAIR COOKBOOK is by the woman who played Cissy on the sitcom FAMILY AFFAIR. Didn't she perish under tragic circumstances? That was the schoolyard rumor! I see in microscopic print on the cover, "Foreword by Dawn Wells." She was Mary Ann on GILLIGAN'S ISLAND, you idiots. I'm sorry I called you an idiot, because here's a bio of someone of whom not even I have heard: WALTER TETLEY: FOR CORN'S SAKE. Ha ha! That's some subtitle! The subtitle of Gary Burghoff's autobiography promises an unusual format: MY LIFE IN POEMS AND SONGS. A volume of letters from vivacious silent screen beauty Louise Brooks is called DEAR STINKPOT. "See, that's where an editor could have stepped in," Ace suggested. You really do not want to call any book DEAR STINKPOT, but especially a book of letters from Louise Brooks, even if she liked to call people stinkpot, I really have no idea. Titles are iffy. Eddie Cantor's daughter wrote two books: DON'T WEAR SILVER IN WINTER and STOP THE WORLD! I WANT TO TELL SOMEONE OFF! Walter R. Deasy, "owner of the carousel in Los Angeles's Griffith Park" calls his memoir THE MERRY-GO-ROUND IS WORN. I know how it feels. The subtitle is AN ANTIQUE MAN FINDS LOVE ON AN ANTIQUE CAROUSEL. Here, I really should "link" to the publisher. The least I could do is try to sell a few books for them. I deactivated my facebook account so I am going to have to "post" pix of me eating chicken here from now on, and I apologize in advance. Hey, I went over to John T. Edge's last night and he measured my head, never you mind why, and there is a picture of that floating around, too, and sure, it will show up here sooner or later, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry for everything forever.

Yore

Hey did one of my horrible neighbors turn on all of his or her horrible Christmas lights that are strung over everything so horribly and sit in the yard and play a musical saw at midnight? That's kind of what it seemed like! Nothing against the musical saw. Fave band Hubcap City utilizes a musical saw. Look! According to this picture, even Marlene Dietrich played a musical saw. And on the "internet" I found "a tribute to the saw playing clowns of yore." That's from the "Saw Lady" "web" site, where I also discovered the picture of Dietrich. The "Saw Lady" uses "yore" a lot, and I like it. "Who Were the Bell Ringers of Yore?" her "web" site plaintively asks... and answers! "Who Were the Musical Saw Players of Yore?" she goes on. "Know of another saw playing clown, living or deceased?" she eerily enquires. If you like strangely faded and discolored photos of clowns holding saws, this is your lucky day! One of the Saw Lady's CDs is entitled "Hark! An Angel Sings." Required disclaimer: I am not a paid endorser of the Saw Lady. I am just drawing your attention to her thanks to my healthy sense of curiosity. Speaking of which, you can hear a radio broadcast on youtube of Marlene Dietrich doing a little Hawaiian number on her musical saw. The first musical saw tune I searched for on youtube was "The Swan," because I could just imagine that it's the standard encore piece for the musical saw virtuoso, and boy was I right.

Dark Pudding

First day of the new semester. Walked alone down a silent, sterile corridor of the engineering building past a man eating pudding surreptitiously in his dark office.

Pig Birthday

Elizabeth is in town! So we went to Off Square Books and looked at birthday cards. There was a pig standing on its hind legs wearing a crown and saying MORE CAKE PLEASE. A birthday card both unsuitable and terrifying.

Owls Have Hundreds of Uses

Last time we learned that owl eggs cure drunks. Now we are told owls "mark the exact time a crime is committed by hooting." That's from THE GLASS HARMONICA by Barbara Ninde Byfield, a book with an owl in it. Be the first on your block to purchase an owl!

Fainting Penguin Confounds Experts

Yeah I guess if there is one part of that frog cartoon I don't understand it's about two minutes in when the frog and penguin spot each other and the penguin appears to have a heart attack or faint from pleasure or is he just bowing with incredible obsequiousness and the frog trips over him even though the frog clearly knows that the penguin is lying there and anyway what is a penguin doing there with all those indigenous creatures of the marsh like spiders and crows and things and why is the penguin as small as a frog or is it not a penguin after all and this would be my youtube comment were I inclined to dispense them.

Hey Someone Needs to Edit the Mork & Mindy Wiki

I found the MORK & MINDY wiki because of Kelly Hogan, never mind why or how. Don't blame Hogan! Here's one complete entry: "Mork was unknowingly pregnant and was feeling the symptoms of female pregnancy. A normal-sized soon egg popped out of his navel and, excited to tell Mindy about it, made it impossibly easy to see. After a while, the egg began to grow and expand until it was the size of a doorway until, finally, the egg cracked open and a middle-aged man emerged." There is so much wrong with that in every way. Let me draw your attention to "A normal-sized soon egg popped out of his navel and, excited to tell Mindy about it, made it impossibly easy to see" and "the egg began to grow and expand until it was the size of a doorway" and "soon egg" and the baffling fragment "impossibly easy to see." Oh my goodness, MORK & MINDY deserves better, no it doesn't.

Famous Debauched Giamatti

Hey I was having one of my famous debauched lunches at City Grocery with Tom Franklin - Chris Offutt was there, too! - and some guy walked in and I almost said, "Look guys, it's Paul Giamatti, ha ha ha!" because the guy looked like Paul Giamatti and I was being all ironic or something, but before I could say it, Tom Franklin said, "It's Paul Giamatti!" and guess what? It REALLY WAS PAUL GIAMATTI. Okay, that is the whole story, sorry. (See also.)

Frog Teeth Castanets

Over on twitter, Ben Greenman notes that it is the 82nd birthday of the first cartoon with color and sound. I just watched it and laughed several times, such as when the frog uses his teeth percussively, like castanets, and the jump cut at about 4:48 when suddenly the frog, the mouse, the piano stool, and the piano are dancing in a kind of chorus line. With a little research I could figure out the mouse's relationship to Mickey Mouse. Is he a rip-off, or did Mickey rip HIM off? But I'm too tired to do research. When he opens his mouth, this mouse has two sharp little vampiric fangs. He brings to light that underlying thing about Mickey that always made us nervous, whatever it was. So this gets 14 "dislikes" on youtube. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? The youtube comments are sprinkled with the usual psychosis, but there are also some goofy ones that make me laugh, for example, the needlessly astonished "A frog that sounds like a duck, WTF?" and "my grandfather... loved to dump pepper on his food!"

At Your Leisure

I was over there on that twitter today and saw that Mike Sacks had "linked" to a scene ("click" here) from what he called an "underrated Woody Allen movie," PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM. That reminded me of one of MY favorite scenes from the film ("click" here), which I tweeted back at Mr. Sacks. As I observed on twitter, it (the latter scene) is a strange combo of Jerry Lewis style slapstick and early Ricky Gervais fawning, squirming, preening awkwardness. Though come to think of it, Jerry himself specialized in fawning, squirming, preening awkwardness, so maybe it's just Jerry all the way and not a strange combo of anything and anyway Ricky Gervais probably hadn't been born yet. But here is the weird thing I JUST REMEMBERED. There used to be a guy named Richard J. Anobile who put out a series of books that were just FRAMES OF MOVIES with the dialogue printed beneath them. LOTS of frames of movies. CAN YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M TELLING YOU? I don't think you can. I think you are too used to the glorious world you believe you are living in. WE DIDN'T EVEN HAVE VHS TAPES THEN. Sometimes, if we wanted to see a movie, WE WERE FORCED TO BUY A BOOK WITH LOTS OF SEQUENTIAL FRAMES FROM THE MOVIE IN IT. Do you understand how sad things used to be? We used to sit there and slowly flip through a book made of paper and glue and pretend to be watching a movie. That's what we did and we thought we were so great. And yet are we so different, you and I? I guess I don't care. You won't understand until it's too late. Old Richard J. Anobile was proud of his thoroughness. My edition of Richard J. Anobile's weirdo version of CASABLANCA has this printed on the front cover (caps theirs for a change): "THE MOST ACCURATE AND COMPLETE RECONSTRUCTION OF A FILM IN BOOK FORM: OVER 1,500 FRAME BLOW-UP PHOTOS SHOWN SEQUENTIALLY AND COUPLED WITH THE COMPLETE DIALOGUE FROM THE ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK, ALLOWS YOU TO RECAPTURE THIS FILM CLASSIC IN ITS ENTIRETY -- AT YOUR LEISURE." I also had (and have) Anobile's book versions of THE GENERAL and PSYCHO... and PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM. That one doesn't fit, does it? Nothing against PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM. But it was contemporary at the time, not "classic." Hey, remember when I told you that I went inside the actual PSYCHO house on the Universal lot? I peeled a little splinter off the front porch and put it in an envelope from the Sheraton Universal and stuck it in my copy of Richard J. Anobile's weird book version of the movie version of PSYCHO, and that is where it sits to this very day, my little splinter from the PSYCHO house, in case you're interested. You're not.

Tarzan Hands

Tom Franklin informs us that comic book artist Joe Kubert has died. Writes Tom, "I remember if he drew say Tarzan a long way away, a long shot, he wouldn't draw hands. Just two lines that sort of flared at the end. It was so cool."

Speaking of Lore

I was off on a little trip and saw, among other people, my brother-in-law David, who had a book with him called COUNTRY WISDOM & LORE, I think, and in that book it said that you can cure alcoholism by feeding the sufferer an owl's egg, only you can't tell him it's an owl's egg. So that was a book with an owl in it and we can add it to our definitive list of books with owls in them. By coincidence I was also carrying a book with an owl in it, a Library of America anthology called AMERICAN FANTASTIC TALES: 1940s TO NOW, and as you can imagine it is packed to the rafters with owls, probably. Just one so far, I admit. I'm going to use that volume in my ghost class, which I am teaching again, only there aren't as many ghosts this time, and lots more octopus-headed space demons, so I'm going to have to call the class something else maybe. Hey, speaking of lore, my brother-in-law David sent me an informative article about the medicinal uses of the unicorn horn. My favorite part is an old quote about a cure for mad-dog bite, which involves pulverized lobster shells and a unicorn horn "if you can get it," the best part of all being the author of the article's careful annotation, "The scarcity of unicorn's horn is indicated by the phrase 'if you can get it.'" I'm not going to "link" to it because big red letters across the top say the unicorn article is "for personal use only" and cannot be "reproduced without permission" and is "linking" a kind of reproduction? I just don't know anymore in this amazing new world that I hate so much. I am sure you all recall when Elke Sommer refused to let me "link" to her paintings of creepy dolls. So I'm playing it safe. I'm sure you can find the article by "googling" the phrase "scarcity of unicorn's horn is indicated" but I know you won't do it. You never do anything.

Purglets

"The most popular aperient substance of the twentieth century (it belongs to the category of stimulant laxatives) phenolphthalien was first marketed in Germany in 1900 under the trade name Purgen. There quickly followed Purgo and Purgil, Purgatin and Purgatol, Purglets, Purgylum, Purgettae, Purganetto, Purgolade... Laxitiv, Laxine and Laxinkonfekt brought up the rear." Some thorough scholarship from INNER HYGIENE: CONSTIPATION AND THE PURSUIT OF HEALTH IN MODERN SOCIETY, an Oxford University Press publication (!) I first discovered because the author's name is similar to that of "Blog" Buddy Jim Whorton. Ha ha, "brought up the rear." Sorry, world. Goodbye forever.

McNeil's Jackpot

McNeil watched a randomly chosen episode of MCMILLAN AND WIFE on the streaming video or instant viewing or whatever you kids call it. "Guess who was in it?" he said. But he didn't even give me time to guess: "Julie Newmar, Richard Dawson, Dabney Coleman, and Robert Loggia!" he yelled. "I thought, 'Wow, I hit the jackpot.' They blew the budget on that one." McNeil's enthusiastic statements were appealingly free of irony. No one has ever been happier about Robert Loggia, not even Mrs. Loggia. In all the years I have known him, in fact, McNeil has never seemed so happy. Yes, I know you have no idea what MCMILLAN AND WIFE is. Shh! You're breaking McNeil's heart.

Not What Bob Intended

The shot we "posted" yesterday of a forlorn Suzanne Pleshette in THE BIRDS has inspired a response from Myra Poe, one of the Wisconsin contingent of "Blog" Buddies. She writes, "The first time I saw this, on tv as a little girl, I was so upset by Suzanne Pleshette's fate I felt sorry for her the whole rest of her life until she died. I couldn't watch [THE BOB NEWHART SHOW] without bursting into tears."

RUGZ

Read in Marvin Hamlisch's obit that Radiohead has been covering the theme song to THE SPY WHO LOVED ME in concert. Well, that tears it! There goes my plan to start a James Bond theme cover band with Dr. Theresa and Jimmy. Everybody will think we are copying Radiohead. Dr. Theresa makes a particular karaoke specialty out of the themes from GOLDFINGER and THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN. Also the theme from TO SIR WITH LOVE, which is not a James Bond movie as far as I know. I sang a little bit of the theme to THE SPY WHO LOVED ME as I mingled about before John Brandon's recent book signing and a young poet with a soured mien said, "I have no idea what you're singing." (See also.) Also present, a young woman who had just paid off a decade of parking tickets ("I don't even have a car anymore!" she cried) and my singing did little to cheer her, although a glass of wine and a funny little dance I assayed seemed to do the trick, however fleetingly. But we weren't really going to start a band anyway, as I have finally learned the lesson first told me by my friend from Hubcap City: "Sometimes it's more fun to talk about things than to do them." Case in point, the heist movie McNeil and I are making about a guy who steals rugs. It's called RUGZ. Inspiration came from something the new Grisham writer Nic Brown said at a party. But don't worry, he is not planning to steal John Grisham's costly rugs! As far as I know. All our talk of RUGZ reminded McNeil of a book report he wrote in 9th grade. All he can remember about the book is "in the first 2 pages or so, the protagonist is waiting in a reception area and lifts the corner of a rug to see what company made it." Don't worry, kids! As you get older, your past too will become a series of seemingly random flashes of absolutely no importance. Like a "blog"!

The Shot

Well here is the shot I have been looking for all night. The color and framing are off (filched from a TV screen, I guess) but it's the only version I could find. It's Suzanne Pleshette in THE BIRDS (which Dr. Theresa and I watched tonight), listening as Tippi Hedren talks on the phone to the man Suzanne Pleshette loves! Out of all the interesting shots in THE BIRDS, somehow it's my favorite. It's emotionally resonant, that's what I would say. It is an emotionally resonant shot. Boy, THE BIRDS is an unusual movie.

He Did Not Shove Mr. Carson

McNeil just read to me over the phone this old New York Times correction to Charlie Callas's obituary: "An obituary on Jan. 29 about the comedian Charlie Callas described incorrectly his appearance on 'The Tonight Show' on Sept. 21, 1982. While Mr. Callas was never on the show again, he did not in fact have an on-air falling out with the host, Johnny Carson. He did not shove Mr. Carson, nor did Mr. Carson say that Mr. Callas would not be invited back." So how did that manage to come up in conversation? I'm so glad you asked! McNeil mentioned the death of Marvin Hamlisch and his work on Jerry Lewis's brand new NUTTY PROFESSOR musical. Together we imagined an entire chorus tap-dancing with glasses stuck in their mouths Jerry Lewis style. That choreography, I pointed out, would be more suited to HARDLY WORKING: THE MUSICAL. McNeil preferred to speculate about a musical based on THE BIG MOUTH. "That's the best one," he said, though he did not bother to expound upon nor support this surprising yet firmly stated opinion. He did go on to muse as to whether BIG MOUTH costar Charlie Callas had passed on. I said I felt sure that he had, and that I had probably mentioned it on the "blog." McNeil, ever skeptical, looked it up for himself in the paper of record. I am skipping some parts of the conversation. "Click" here for the heaviest analysis you will get of THE BIG MOUTH outside of Chris Fujiwara. Includes more stills from THE BIG MOUTH than you can even imagine, with several sequential ones of Charlie Callas making crazy faces, such as the one illustrating this "post." Of THE BIG MOUTH, the authors state, "Jerry Lewis... dumps out a Freudian aquarium-load of colorful, exotic and disturbing oddities in a fruitless quest for rationality... In director Lewis' world, delicate human minds are set adrift in a psychotic societal sea." Okay! They also specifically link the "the unstable and at times terrifying world Lewis has created" with the work of David Lynch, as I have done in the past. Hey, is it time to go to bed yet?

"I Am Only Billy Hunt"

Robert Hughes died. I read his history of Australia THE FATAL SHORE a long time ago and the thing I recall most is the brave ingenuity of the convicts' escape attempts. Here's one that sticks in my head for its ironic (I guess) and tragicomic (maybe) qualities: "One prisoner, a former actor named William Hunt, 'who in his younger days had belonged to a company of strolling mountebanks,' disguised himself as an enormous 'boomer' or male kangaroo. He nearly got across to Forestier's Peninsula before two picket-guards, thinking he really was a kangaroo, spotted him and gave chase, leveling their muskets. 'Don't shoot, I am only Billy Hunt,' the nervous marsupial squeaked, to their consternation." The chuckle dies in the throat. It's a sad story, really, when you consider how terrible life was and the crazy brilliance of the idea and the hard work that must have gone into creating such a realistic kangaroo suit in complete secrecy, and the acting skills Billy Hunt put into so very convincingly becoming that kangaroo. Yes, I'm pretty sure there's some irony there: the excellence of his disguise his undoing! Now that Mr. Hughes is dead, I'm not sure I should have quoted that dialogue tag "the nervous marsupial squeaked," which is not my favorite kind of dialogue tag, but there it is.

The Tall Tree

Last night there was either a small chaperoned gathering for a church youth group that spontaneously exploded into a dance party or a cruelly enforced dance party that devolved into a grueling fiction workshop. Details are hazy. According to Dr. Theresa, my knee hurts because I "tried to do some kind of limbo move." We analyzed my seminal text: "He saw a tall tree and thought, That's a tall tree." It was either a keening lament for the state of modern fiction or a celebration of the written word, no one could tell. Story "The Tall Tree" reprinted by permission of the Yalobusha Review. Dessert of bittersweet chocolate, bacon and marshmallows provided by Sarah, who told us that alligators eat marshmallows, is that what she said? I am retaining an image of someone standing at the end of a pier, tossing marshmallows into the hellish maw of a grateful, smiling alligator. Sarah's uncle once appeared on a Fox News program because of his sighting of the Honey Island Swamp Monster, so she should know. (See also.) Dance-fuel pork shoulder provided by Stan's, the finest purveyor of pork in all the land. Here is a "yelp" review explaining some of the greatness that is Stan's. Remember Stan's for all your pork needs! And Kool & the Gang's "Open Sesame" for your dancing requirements, the genie's repeated command for "everybody" to "get down" lending itself to the "enforced dance party" theory. Shazam! (PS How can "Open Sesame" get 36 "dislikes" on youtube? As one youtube commenter notes with admirably plainspoken bewilderment: "36 people don't want to get down with the genie.")

Merry Christmas

Hey you know I have all these movie channels because I'm just kind of a disgusting slob who hangs around all day doing nothing. So there are three different movies about Christmas on RIGHT NOW and I just had to run in here to my precious little computer and tell you all about that. One of the movies is about a teen who is trying to get home for Christmas to receive his new Porsche, so that sounds like something I can relate to. Another one is based on a Truman Capote short story, but not the one you're thinking of, and it quite improbably stars Katharine Hepburn and The Fonz, so how did that happen? And finally I would like to bring to your attention the Hulk Hogan vehicle SANTA WITH MUSCLES, so allow me to quote the entire capsule description, which bears repeating: "Amnesia makes a mean health-food tycoon think he's Santa Claus, especially when it comes to a local orphanage."

The Dachshunds Are Mischievous Creatures

"The dachshunds are mischievous creatures and lead Brutus through a series of comic misadventures with a policeman being chased up a tree." This is the day I do nothing but read wikipedia articles about live-action Disney films. Hey, "click" on this one; it's weirdly empty. Just do it! I'm so alone.

At My Back I Always Hear Time's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near

"More commonly referred to as electromagnetic energy pulled in from the universe itself, Frank is rebuffed in his claims due to his odd sense of humor." Ha ha, that's terrible grammar, among other things. I am spending my day - my life, really - reading wikipedia articles about live-action Disney movies from the 70s.

Sad Jimmy

My friend at "She Blogged By Night" did a "post" about THE BOATNIKS (that film incidentally a long-running all-purpose punch line between Mr. Ward and myself), which somehow got me thinking about the 1972 Disney film THE BISCUIT EATER. I want to say that the theme song included the words "egg-sucking dog." Is that possible? It seems a little rough for Disney. My powers of "googling" - usually so magnificent - have failed me here. As I recall, the dog in the movie was insulted as a "biscuit eater" who also enjoyed "sucking eggs" and I guess I still don't understand what's so bad about biscuits and eggs. They are delicious! The dog would be crazy NOT to want them! Googling around on the "internet" eventually led me to the wikipedia entry on the Disney film THE MILLION DOLLAR DUCK, which I would now like to quote for you: "Katie (Sandy Duncan) gets a recipe for applesauce wrong and gives it to her husband to take to work for lunch, hoping it will help cut down on the budget. In a humorous chain reaction, the duck Albert is testing steals the applesauce after Albert has thrown it away in the trash, and then wanders into a radiation lab and becomes irradiated... it now lays golden eggs. In a Pavlovian manner, the duck, named 'Charlie' (despite being female), lays an egg when prompted by the barking of a dog... a suspicious neighbor, a government bureaucrat... starts spying on them... worldwide phone calls spread the rumor and Rutledge gets a phone call from President Richard Nixon to 'get that duck!' Albert is overcome by greed and no longer cares for his son, which saddens Jimmy." I keep telling you, this is what we used to consider entertainment. (See also.) Pictured, Sandy Duncan.

The Fair Young Man

"In the hall they came upon the fair young man quietly vomiting into a firebucket under an artificial palm." See now that's what I call a sentence! A while back the bookstore McNally-Jackson put out a series of tweets, bits and pieces from MANHATTAN TRANSFER by John Dos Passos, and it made me buy the book from my own local bookstore, Square Books. It is one of those books that makes you say, "Oh, what's the point of trying?" In a good way!

Awry

In STARDUST MEMORIES, Woody Allen talks about how his mother used to run "boiled chicken through the deflavorizing machine." Well, last night I watched I SAW WHAT YOU DID on TCM, and it was as if someone had run a couple of Megan Abbott's most recent books - no boiled chicken, they! More like succulent prime rib - through the deflavorizing machine. The result was not unpleasant! But if you want all the flavor, you have to go to Megan Abbott. At one point, one of the teen protagonists of I SAW WHAT YOU DID even bites her lip by the anticipatory (I guess!) method displayed on the cover of Megan's newest masterpiece DARE ME. By the way, Nick Hornby has high praise for DARE ME in the July BELIEVER magazine. "This is the third Megan Abbott novel I have read this year," he writes. "... she's really good, and is doing something nobody else I've read is attempting." In the same column he writes that "Blog" Buddy Tom Franklin's CROOKED LETTER, CROOKED LETTER is "every bit as ambitious, as thoroughly imagined, and as gripping as his earlier work." Here is what I remember: when I was a little kid, I SAW WHAT YOU DID must have been rerun on TV, because some other kids were talking about it in the schoolyard, and just hearing about the plot (prank phone call gone horribly awry) scared me. So I don't know whether I've seen it before or all my memories of it come from schoolyard chatter. The music in I SAW WHAT YOU DID is weirdly jaunty, like circus music, built around the "nyah nyah" taunt. The "nyah nyah" taunt is an easy temptation. When I was in a band with Jon Host, I slipped the "nyah nyah" taunt into every solo, much to his amusement and/or increasing rage. What else can one say of I SAW WHAT YOU DID? It was fascinating, especially using the Megan Abbott lens. Joan Crawford strides through it with her camp knob cranked up as far as it will go. She builds to a Lithgow-level freak-out that destroys the innocent dreaminess of the formerly winsome teen.

Ducks On Parade

Friday is request day on the classical music station and you know what that means! All the creakiest old worn-out chestnuts in the repertoire. A bombastic little number was playing while Dr. Theresa and I were on the way to the optometrist. It sounded like it might need some lyrics, which I supplied: "Here they come! Over the hill! Ducks on parade! Ducks on parade!" "Do you have to do that?" Dr. Theresa inquired. "Yes," I explained. While I waited for the eye doctor I thumbed through some issues of BEE CULTURE - a magazine for beekeepers! I'll tell you who is a major advertiser in BEE CULTURE: Blue Sky Bee Supply of Hiram, Ohio. I don't know, it sounded like such a nice place to work and I daydreamed about it. One issue of BEE CULTURE contained a mini-catalog for Blue Sky Bee Supply, and I was happy to see models employed in showing off various beekeeper outfits. That seemed like a job I could handle, too - not beekeeping, just modeling the outfits.

Magic Harmonica Wolf

Be sure to come to Off Square Books today at 5 PM Central Time to witness the triumphant return of John Brandon! His new nonfiction self-help book A MILLION HEAVENS is out. So many heavens to choose from. Come early and find out which heaven is right for you! I tricked you, it is not a self-help book. It is a novel! An awesome novel with a magic harmonica and a talking wolf, you know, one of those. Ha ha! There aren't any other ones of those. And my description is inaccurate. The wolf thinks about stuff. Like Garfield! Ha ha. The wolf is nothing like Garfield, although he does hate Mondays. Ha ha! The wolf doesn't hate Mondays, as far as I know. And "magic" isn't the correct adjective to describe the harmonica. But is there an angel in this book? I kind of think so! So now you will be confused, perhaps, when I truthfully claim that it is a work of realism. Have my clumsy attempts at categorizing tantalized you? I hope so! Because I can also see how I might have driven you away. Look, John Brandon has a whole novel to work with! I'm trying to cram the beautiful, mysterious, musical and gritty world he has created into a dumb "blog" "post." IT'S NOT FAIR! Plus my motives are sullied. I only mentioned the harmonica - out of all the memorable images in the novel - because there is a "harmonica" label in the "label section" of the "blog" and I hardly ever get to use it. "Magic Harmonica Wolf" was my first idea for a title for this "post." It seemed too easy, and I briefly changed it to "Magic Wolf Harmonica." I considered "Harmonica Wolf" and "Wolf Harmonica" as well, no "Magic." But when all is said and done, "Magic Harmonica Wolf" lands with just the right amount of "oomph." I am a huge John Brandon fan and you better believe he has written another amazing book, but as you know, the government requires me to mention that I received my copy of A MILLION HEAVENS free from the publisher McSweeney's, for whom I do some occasional writing. What does the government take me for? Some kind of cheap shill? I wish!

Frasier, Briefly

Welcome once again to "Frasier, Briefly." Last night Frasier's dad kept beating him at chess and it made Frasier crazy! And I was like, "Oh, Frasier. It's no big deal. Why can't you just be happy?" This has been "Frasier, Briefly."

I Wonder Why

The doorbell rang! The doorbell never rings. It was Ace Atkins, dropping off a late birthday present for me - the biography CLAUDIA: THE STORY OF COLONEL HARLAND SANDERS' WIFE PLUS SOME OF HER PERSONAL RECIPES by Edward G. Klemm, Jr., or as he is called on the title page, "Edward G. Klemm, Jr., Author, I WONDER WHY" (caps his). He is wearing a cowboy hat in his author photo and appears to be studying a pamphlet! There is a mysterious object in his buttonhole. Dr. Theresa got out her magnifying glass and thought it might be a piece of jewelry shaped like a chicken leg. I thought it was a skull. Could it be a flower bud? For a second I imagined he was reading CLAUDIA: THE STORY OF COLONEL HARLAND SANDERS' WIFE PLUS SOME OF HER PERSONAL RECIPES in his author photo, and that would have blown my mind like the cake with a picture of a cake on it I told you about that time. The title of Mr. Klemm's other book, I WONDER WHY, makes me think of the character in MASTERS OF ATLANTIS who wrote the books HERE COMES GRAMPS! and SO THIS IS OMAHA! (Exclamation points Charles Portis's.) Also in the gift bag: a most hideous figurine of a toad dressed as late-period Elvis. "It looks like it's made of melted candy," observed Dr. Theresa. To which I replied, "I don't know where to put it." "In a grave," suggested Dr. Theresa.

Two Things I Didn't Google

Late last night I saw a little bit of a movie called AMERICAN KICKBOXER 1 - a charmingly confident title! I didn't "google" it because I am sure a lot of other people on the "internet" have already made wry observations about naming your movie with the built-in presumption of a sequel. Is that the only time a filmmaker has done that? Well, I don't know. I didn't "google" it. I don't even know if that's the correct title. That's just what the TV told me when I "clicked" on the channel. When I came in, a wisecracking reporter was arguing with his no-nonsense editor, and the two actors were really trying to give it something, you know? They were scrappy, I guess that's how I would put it. Then I flipped away to a quirky independent movie about a quirky middle-aged man having a quirky midlife crisis. He rode a bicycle that was too small for him, for example! And he identified with an extinct bird, how quirky! And a melancholy, beautiful teen, wise beyond her years, gave him some life lessons, natch! So they curled up together chastely under a hand-knitted blanket and fell into a cozy slumber and uptight people who weren't quirky enough misunderstood their quirky relationship. So everybody gazed out over the cold ocean and thought about their quirks. Ugh. I flipped back to AMERICAN KICKBOXER 1 and two kickboxers were sparring in the ring and one said, "You can't take the heat!" And the other one said, "I can take the heat, I just can't take your ATTITUDE!" He seemed like he was about to cry. So the first kickboxer left the ring in a huff and the second kickboxer cried out, "That's right! WALK AWAY!" I have to say that between the two films, the emotions seemed more genuine in AMERICAN KICKBOXER 1. The other thing I didn't "google" was the "Chocolate Wonderfall," which is something else in the steak and cotton candy commercial Dr. Theresa told me about. I started to "google" "Chocolate Wonderfall" but you know how when you start to "google" now the "google" will try to fill in the rest of the term for you before you finish typing it? So I was in the process of "googling" "Chocolate Wonderfall" and "google" filled this in for me: chocolate wonderfall gross - so I became disheartened and stopped "googling." But now I'm going to do a "Google Image Search" for it. You win, Chocolate Wonderfall!

Move Over, Peanuts

Hey remember when I told you about that steak restaurant that offers "endless peanuts"? I thought that was pretty crazy. Endless peanuts! But now Dr. Theresa has seen a commercial for a different steak restaurant with cotton candy as part of its buffet! Cotton candy beats peanuts, even endless peanuts. "Click" here for an article from a site called NATION'S RESTAURANT NEWS. You'll note that it's an old article from a couple of years ago, when the cotton candy buffet was in its early testing stages. Well, thanks to Dr. Theresa's keen eye for weird commercials we can confirm that the roll-out is complete. At last! Cotton candy for steak lovers everywhere!

McNeil's Movie Korner

Oh boy! It's time once again for "McNeil's Movie Korner." McNeil writes to say he was "BLOWN AWAY" (caps his) by the similarities between LOVER COME BACK, which he watched a week or so ago, and MAD MEN. The creators of MAD MEN "obviously had that film in mind," he says, "because Rock is definitely Don Draper, Doris/Peggy, and even Tony Randall is a lot like Pete (in the way he looks and acts)." [And his character's name is Pete! - ed.] Speaking of old Pete, a second email from McNeil, hot on the heels of the first, adds that McNeil's younger kids love a movie called ALASKA. "It stars an early version of Pete Campbell, played by a 17-year-old Pete Campbell!!!! He acts exactly the same!!!!" McNeil breathlessly reports.

Cultural Studies

You know, I've got so much culture my head is about to explode. So welcome to our new feature "Cultural Studies" where I see what's going on with the culture and then we study it I guess. CULTURE! Called McNeil yesterday to discuss the death of Mr. Sas, who invented the electronic football game that McNeil hates so much with a violent hatred, as I know from my years of Advanced McNeil Studies. But McNeil is classy and did not put down Mr. Sas or in any other way revel in his demise. "That's a terrible game," stated in a calm, flat voice, free of personal animosity, was the extent of McNeil's negativity on the solemn occasion in question. Do you know about electric football? As the obituary for Mr. Sas in the New York Times puts it, it's "a device that propelled figures across a metal surface using vibrations created by a small motor." Still can't picture it? Let me see if I can find a "clip" on "youtube." McNeil much preferred Mattel's "Talking Football" board game, which I believe commanded the players through a series of little records. McNeil's neighbor up the street had the Talking Football game. Can't picture that either? Back to youtube! Speaking of which: CULTURE! Gary, an MFA student of mine, made the following bold statement on the twitter last night: "Twister is about morality the best I can tell." Now, I was certain he meant the pre-packaged party game, but I jokingly twitter-tweeted him back to ask whether he meant the movie or the game. He meant the movie! But conceded that the game was also steeped in moral considerations. Or was he just humoring me? Don't tell me, world, that you have forgotten the pre-packaged party game Twister. Oh, okay, I will find that for you on youtube, too! That makes three youtube clips you need to "click" on. Keep track! CULTURE! Dr. Theresa and I went to see TWISTER (the movie) upon its initial release at Atlanta's Starlight Drive-In Theater with our friend Caroline. CULTURE! Caroline was back at Snackbar this morning. WHAT? Snackbar in the morning? You heard right! It was about culture. Caroline read her poetry at a special literary breakfast. A LITERARY BREAKFAST! Such a thing is almost perverse it's so cultural. LITERATURE AT BREAKFAST. That's how much culture we have around here. We can hardly stand it! Much of Caroline's awesome poetry this morning was about her old neighborhood of Cabbagetown and our late friend Benjamin. And speaking of Snackbar last night, remember how Drew gave me an eye dropper containing Dean Martin's scent? I could just kick myself for not including a "link" somewhere in THAT "post" to my old "post" about Jimmy Olsen collecting Superman's tears in a similar container. SUPERMAN'S TEARS! That would be another good name for this new regular feature. But I know you never "click" on my "links." Like, you never "click" on this one to my list of EVERY MOVIE I HAVE EVER "BLOGGED" ABOUT ON THE "BLOG," including TWISTER. You should really be ashamed of yourself. It is so full of culture. And just look at all these "links" just in this one "post," all of them simply bursting with oodles of culture. But I don't care. I do this BECAUSE it is useless. And we call that... CULTURE! Speaking of Superman, I just happened to come across a passage in George Plimpton's boxing book where he describes the cover of a Superman comic book: "Superman was shown throwing a villain off a rocket ship; the villain's fedora remained firmly affixed to his head. 'Superman's gone mad!' the man was shouting as he spread-eagled into space." That reminds me of Charles Portis's character Norwood and his thoughts on Superman and Scrooge McDuck. CULTURE!

The Eye Dropper of Destiny

Caroline is in town! We took her to Snackbar. And our server brought to the table an eye dropper, delicately displayed on a a linen napkin resting on a little china plate. "Drew [the manager] wanted you to have this," she said to me. What was it? Two precious drops of vintage Woodhue, Dean Martin's cologne! I happily dabbed it on my neck and an excellent dinner commenced - a dinner during which I smelled like Dean Martin! Now that's what I call service. I do not hesitate to declare that there is no other restaurant in the world where such a thing happened tonight.

Discouraged Gnome

Here's an actual capsule description of a movie: "A Los Angeles policeman partners with a gnome to nab the head of a crime ring." So I turned it on and the gnome seemed discouraged. Anthony Michael Hall was giving him a pep talk. "Where's the warrior here? Come on now!" Anthony Michael Hall exhorted. "Not warrior. Scared," the gnome replied. "Stomach feel like fireflies."

Panache!

Here is an enjoyable passage from the George Plimpton boxing book: "A fighter named Joe Grim, a second-rate boxer in the early part of the [twentieth] century whose forte was the ability to take punishment, would totter to the ropes at the end of a fight, whatever his state, and call out to the crowd, 'I am Joe Grim! I fear no man on earth!'" As Plimpton so rightly exclaims in commentary, "Great panache!"

New Hope For Movie Cats

Asked Dr. Theresa what she was doing. She said, "Watching this incredibly long movie that I was enjoying until something bad happened to a cat." Isn't that always the way, though, friends? For example, I'm sure you recall Drew Barrymore's film DOPPELGANGER, in which they go so long without anything happening to the cat that you think, "Whew! That cat is going to be okay." Then BANG! Something bad happens to the cat. Friends, I'm here to tell you that it doesn't have to be that way. In my book YOUR CAT CAN BE A MOVIE STAR! you will learned the surefire methods to get your cat into a positive movie where positive things happen to cats, such as SHAMUS, which was not a good movie, but at least nothing bad happened to the cat, though nothing good happened to the cat either, really nothing happened to that cat.

Barn Burning

In honor of the 50th anniversary of the death of William Faulkner here I am making out with William Faulkner. As Phil once asked about Jack Benny, "Is that what killed him?" Photo by The Duchess.

Train Smash

In this George Plimpton book about boxing, I read that Lord Byron's mother died "of a fit of rage brought on by reading an upholsterer's bill." I am sure I did not know that. Then I read of the "Mad Marquis" who wrote to a railway company, "SIRS: I am anxious to witness a train smash." He later tried to crash two locomotives into each other on his estate. "Champagne was served," notes Plimpton. It didn't go so well. I am learning many facts from this book about boxing. If we check the index of this book about boxing we see, in just one random column, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Toots Shor, Sitting Bull, Edith Sitwell, and Jacques Tati (pictured). Boxing! Hey, my dad likes to quote an Edith Sitwell poem. He likes to say, "Jane, Jane/ Tall as a crane/ The morning light creaks down again."

Famous Doors of History

Slade over at Square Books saw that I was reading THE FIGHT by Norman Mailer. It's Mailer's account of the Ali-Foreman bout in Zaire (as it was then called). Slade thought I might like SHADOW BOX, George Plimpton's book that covers the same fight. So he brought it up to the store and loaned it to me. Wasn't that nice of him? And here's what I noticed right away: SHADOW BOX has an owl in it, and therefore goes on our fascinating, comprehensive list of books with owls in them, of which you need to make a lifetime study. I noticed it right away because the owl is in the epigraph. That's just about as early as you can stick an owl in your book. George Plimpton doesn't waste any time making sure his book has an owl in it. "He was not born in the woods to be scared by an owl." I guess I understand what that epigraph means. Don't I? Hey, once I held a door open for George Plimpton. My friend Eugene, who was a friend of Plimpton's, had convinced him to come to an event at a bookstore where I worked in downtown Mobile, where nobody ever went. George Plimpton did not acknowledge me in any way, and why should he? You know for whom else I held a door (different door, different day) in downtown Mobile? Dizzy Gillespie (pictured). He said thanks.

Had Enough?

The TCM "blog" has a detailed "post" on the Paul Anka voyeurism movie, you'll be happy to know. Here's a tidbit of interest: the cinematographer for the Paul Anka voyeurism movie "worked almost exclusively for director/star Jerry Lewis." I'm never going to stop "blogging" about this. Never ever!

The Pipe-Smoking Scientist Next Door

Well, the Paul Anka voyeurism movie was all right! A grim little slice of suburban rot. As I am certain you will recall, I wondered how it would stand up to BEAT GIRL. It had none of BEAT GIRL's madcap delirium. The Paul Anka voyeurism movie was unrelievedly, oppressively, suffocatingly gloomy. Unlike Beat Girl, Paul Anka doesn't have any pals. He goes out at night and some dudes surround him and promise to set him up with a "divorcée" - but they're just teasing Paul Anka! "You'll be climbing the walls yelling 'Mama! Mama! Mama!'" they remark. Speaking of which, there are two cops: an old-school cop and his young partner who has taken courses in psychology, which the older cop never tires of mocking. When the young cop says that the neighborhood peeping tom (Paul Anka, natch!) "wants to be caught" because he is "making himself known," the older cop sneers and makes a wisecrack, something like, "Freud goes to the police academy." Almost immediately thereafter, the old cop polishes his gun while talking about his mother! "She never had a dirty thought in her life," he insists. Should I note here that there will be Paul Anka voyeurism movie spoilers? I am reminded of Freud fan Megan Abbott's remark in an interview I did with her long ago: "every act of immorality is a secret cry for correction." What else happens? Well, Jack Cassidy ties his ascot effortlessly while smoking a cigarette! And after those guys taunt him, Paul Anka wanders off to four more bars of the fairly skimpy theme song, including the line (I think) "I walk alone in the city." Paul Anka is somewhat Travis Bickle-ish here. Or Bicklish, like ticklish. He goes to a newsstand and looks at magazines with titles like INTIMATE and REAL SECRETS, then he jumps on a trampoline in slow motion with his shirt unbuttoned! Jack Cassidy's neglected wife is seduced by the wise, pipe-smoking scientist next door. "Like chocolate cake?" is his opening line. Soon she is saying, "I never knew kisses could be so tender!" But it's okay because Jack Cassidy has run off to Las Vegas with Paul Anka's mom, who just dropped the hose in the yard and left it going while she made out with Jack Cassidy in his convertible right there in broad daylight in front of the cops, who are on stakeout. But that's okay because HER unemployed husband has passed out on the couch. The amazing denouement occurs during a Fourth of July lawn party that devolves into swimming-pool-based debauchery, and from thence into a bloodthirsty mob! The old cop gets drunk on whiskey and ginger ale and starts firing his gun indiscriminately as Paul Anka (whose mother, we learn, has taught him to cha-cha!) scampers over the rooftops in his horrifying mask (pictured!).

The Great Ascot Chase

Watched the first few minutes of the Paul Anka voyeurism movie. It starts with a woman lounging around in shiny pants. "Look at her crazy pants!" said Dr. Theresa. "That's just what Paul Anka is doing," I replied. And sure enough, there was Paul Anka, crouching in the shadows. He wrote the title song and sings it in a piercing, high-pitched whine: "I look in any window/ I walk by any open door/ To see if someone will love me/ Love me forever more." That's the whole song! Just four lines. No chorus or anything. That's some short song. Then the credits start. After the credits, Paul Anka creeps through the bushes. Paul Anka scrambles onto a roof. Paul Anka startles the neighbors by throwing rocks into their swimming pool. He's standing on the roof wearing a really creepy mask! Down below, Jack Cassidy is wearing an ascot! Seems like Jack Cassidy was always wearing an ascot, doesn't it? Jack Cassidy chases Paul Anka but Paul Anka gets away. Now Paul Anka is eating an apple so I thought I would come in here and type this up.

Rare Dramatic Role

So I sat down with a bowl of leftover noodles to watch the Paul Anka voyeurism movie (!) I dvr'd from TCM. It's called LOOK IN ANY WINDOW (!!). In Robert Osborne's intro to the movie, he cited its "rare dramatic role" for Paul Anka and noted that LOOK IN ANY WINDOW costars Micky Dolenz's father! But best of all he said that Paul Anka sings the title song to LOOK IN ANY WINDOW over the opening credits. Well, I was just too excited to go on. I was eating lunch and thinking about what songs to play for my big DJ set at The End of All Music, and I didn't feel I could give the proper amount of concentration to LOOK IN ANY WINDOW, which would be one billion percent of my concentration. So I'm saving it for later. It has potential to go either way. Will LOOK IN ANY WINDOW be awesome like BEAT GIRL or a dud like MARDI GRAS starring Pat Boone? That remains the central question of our times.

Hot News From Chicago

At last! Our friend Judge is back with another installment of the exclusive "blog" series "Hot News From Chicago." Judge stalks the streets of Chicago, looking for hot news - in photographic form! She calls this beauty "Scary Gyros." But not all the hot news is from Chicago all the time. For example, don't forget I am going to "DJ" at The End of All Music today, right here in Oxford, Mississippi. My "set" starts at "two o'clock." Speaking of "hot," today's high is supposed to be 104, so come watch my records melt as part of the spectacle. The friendly folks at The End of All Music are having a big record sale today, too. But take your purchases straight home! Don't leave them in the car while you run in the grocery store for a couple of things. It's hot! To read more about me being hot, "click" here for the time I got hot in Arizona. Hot!

Some Orange Cat

Ace Atkins came over and we watched the Burt Reynolds movie SHAMUS. Finally! We tried to watch it several months ago but the dvd turned out to be cracked. Then Ace went away on a huge book tour and the seasons changed and people grew old and we all thought it would never happen. But tonight it did! Was it worth the wait? Gee. I guess not. We were pretty excited because Morris the Cat is one of the stars of SHAMUS. He's listed by name in the credits and everything (though not above Dyan Cannon as erroneously reported on the "blog"). And as you recall, Ace has a history with Morris the Cat. When he was employed by a bookstore, he once hosted a book signing for Morris the Cat! But before the movie tonight, Ace dropped a bombshell on us: "It wasn't really Morris, you know," he said. "It was some orange cat." It gives me no pleasure to report that Morris the Cat was terrible in this movie! He doesn't even show up for the first half hour or more. And then he does nothing but sit around. We're an hour into the movie before we see him a second time. Then he shows up in the last scene, to eat. He's really overweight. It's a sad display. The plot of SHAMUS is almost impossible to understand. "And I do this for a living," said Ace. Dr. Theresa claimed that the plot of SHAMUS did not put her to sleep, but her face was notably turned away from the television as she reclined on the love seat. She revived herself for THE LONG GOODBYE, which we watched after SHAMUS as an antidote - to see a detective movie starring a cat who can really act! The cat in the first scene of THE LONG GOODBYE is magnificent. I can swear that a long time ago Ace assured me that cat was Morris. It is not Morris. I think SHAMUS and THE LONG GOODBYE came out within a year of each other. But the cat in THE LONG GOODBYE is lithe, active, and expressive. Nothing like Morris! He seems to have a real relationship with Elliott Gould. "Robert Altman probably made them hang out together," mused Ace. Later, in an emotional night scene at the beach, a dog performs some dramatic business. "Where's that dog's award?" Ace demanded. Oh I forgot to tell you there's a character in SHAMUS named Lieutenant Colonel C.C. Hardcore. When the name first came up I thought it was some kind of obvious pseudonym that was going to be a clue. But it wasn't. That was just the character's name. And they weren't trying to be funny or anything. PS I dvr'd something off of TCM but nobody wanted to watch it with me tonight. It's a movie about voyeurism starring Paul Anka. And look, one of his big hit songs was called "Lonely Boy." Is that funny? I can't tell anymore. I just picked the picture because it looked creepy.