WE COME IN, WE GO OUT LIKE ANYTHING
The man responsible for hosting "Broadway Open House" which later became the "Tonight Show," died of cardiac arrest without undergoing "Surgery, Open Heart." Morey Amsterdam took his final bow early Monday morning, and although he was best known as a wise-cracking writer on the "Alan Brady Show" and as an "actor" in the first Sci-Fi movie in 3-D: "It Came From Outer Space, " he started as a comic in 1930 on radio shows such as the "Rube Wolf Orchestra" and "The Optimistic Doughnut Show." Now, I recently became a member of the old-time radio organization SPRDVAC, but even I had never heard of this show. Does anyone "remember" it? At least, we'll never forger Morey A.
HOW IT WORKS
Legend has it that when asked to describe how radio works, Albert Einstein put it this way: "You see, wire telegraph is a kind of a very, very long cat. You pull his tail in New York and his head is meowing in Los Angeles. Do you understand this? And radio operates exactly the same way: you send signals here, they receive them there. The only difference is that there is no cat." (From Marv Wolfman.)
THIS JUST IN
From Kerry "Mr. Leprechaun" Millerick is a story that he assumes to be true about a news anchor at the station he used to work at in Miami many years ago.
The newshound (whom we'll call "Ray Hamburgere"), would often lap up multiple martinis at lunch before returning to the newsroom -- just like Ray Hamburgere! -- and on one of these days, he was reading the news when a staffer handed him a news bulletin. Live on the air, Ray took the note and intoning the standard, "This just handed me..." went on to read:
"The President of a war-torn African country has been assassinated! President--"
Ray paused and his eyes widened ever so slightly -- because the fallen leader had one of those names with lots of N’s and R’s and K’s (and almost no vowels) that's virtually impossible for any sober non-African to pronounce. But then, without missing a beat, Ray ad-libbed:
"The President's name is being withheld pending notification of next of kin."
The station did not receive a call.
Chris "Amish Power" Yoder notes that the presidential race is in a dead heat: Dole is dead, and Clinton is in heat.
But as we get down to the wire, the Times Wire Service reports that Mr. Harold Brooks-Baker, publishing director of Burke's Peerage notes that "The presidential candidate with the greatest number of royal genes has always been the victor, without exception, since George Washington."
Well, I found that statement a bit odd since I remember that in the last presidential race it was noted that George Bush was related to the Royal English family and that Clinton's lineage could be traced to a small village in England named Bedlam where the townsfolk pretended to be loony to avoid paying taxes.
But now Mr. B-B reveals that William Jefferson Clingon and Robert Joseph Dolt are distant cousins -- both tracing their pedigrees to King Henry III (I am I am I am) and Presidents William Henry (Don't call me George) Harrison and Benjamin (Go Fly A Kite) Harrison.
And what's more, Bill is bluer than Bob, being also directly descended from King Robert I of France and furthermore "related to every Scottish monarch, and to the current British royal family." I guess the Clintons have always been known as strange bedfellows.
It has also always amused me that Clinton likes to say he's the man from Hope, although he was actually born elsewhere.
I guess it wouldn't be a good political move to be known as "The man from Hot Springs" . . .
And speaking of the election, we've got several important ballot issues to decide out here which include number 215, the Marijuana for Medical Use initiative and 209, the so-called Affirmative Action initiative.
Accordingly, my actor pal and MacDoctor Billy Bones, says that his daughter, who attends Stanford (one of the most "Politically Correct" schools in the nation), sent him the following transcript of her answering machine message, "in the spirit of satire (the sincerest form of self inspection)":
"Hello, and thank you for calling Dena and Laura's automated voice message system. In an attempt to maintain the ubiquitous politically correct standard here at Stanford university, Laura and I have devised the following method in hopes that we are able to meet each of our callers special needs. Therefore, if you are african-american, please press 1 now. If you are pacific islander, please press 2 now. If your great aunt on your mother's side was of eastern european descent, please press 3 now. If you are 1/16 american indian, please press 4 now, if you are from Central, South-Eastern Asia (excluding Laos), please press 5 no. If you are caucasian, in parenthesis, not hispanic, or using a rotary dial phone, please stay on the line for further assistance. You may press the star key at any time during this recording to repeat this message. If you have any questions, concerns, or are unable to categorize yourself on the basis of race, please hang up and dial the Stanford Operator. Please note that the above choices are OPTIONAL, but neither Laura nor I will begin to acknowledge your meaningless existence should they be ignored. Thank you and have a nice day."
. . .OR DIAL 215
A hippie dies and goes to the Pearly Gates. St. Peter looks him up and says, "I'm sorry, but you'll be going down to Hell." The hippie, astounded, peers through the gates and sees God walking in the distance. "God!" he says. "What gives? Remember that time I was tripping on acid? I saw you, and you said we'd be in Heaven together forever!" God thought for a minute, then said, "Oh yeah, but I was drunk."
(Can't remember who sent me this joke, man . . .)
I was awakened the other morning from a drug induced stupor -- I had to smoke because I'd hurt my back inhaling -- by the Medical reporter on "Get Up U.S." talking about a sports related hazard incurred by young boys who play soccer, where the formation of varicous veins in their legs can lead to reduced blood flow to their midterm testes resulting in impotence in later life. So what's all this talk about "Soccer Dads?"
THE END OF THE BEGINNING
And from regular contributor and mystery man Marv Wolfman, who doesn't have to dress up for this Fangsgiving Holiday:
"In the beginning God Created the heaven and the earth. Quickly he was faced with a class action suit for failure to file an environmental impact statement. He was granted a temporary permit for the project, but was stymied with the Cease and Desist order for the earthly part.
"Appearing at the hearing, God was asked why he began his earthly project in the first place. He replied that he just liked to be creative. Then God said, ‘Let there be light.’ Officials immediately demanded to know how the light would be made. Would there be strip mining? What about thermal pollution? God explained that the light would come from a huge ball of fire. God was granted provisional permission to make light, assuming that no smoke would result from the ball of fire, that he would obtain a building permit, and (to conserve energy) would have the light out half the time. God agreed and said he would call the light ‘Day’ and the darkness ‘Night.’ Officials replied that they were not interested in semantics.
"God said, ‘Let the earth bring forth green herbs and such as many seeds.’ The EPA agreed so long as native seed was used. Then God said, ‘Let waters bring forth creeping creatures having life; and the fowl that may fly over the earth.’ Officials pointed out this would require approval from the Department of Game coordinated with the Heavenly Wildlife Federation and the Audubon-gelic Society.
"Everything was OK until God said he wanted to complete the project in six days. Officials informed him it would take at least 200 days to review the application and the environmental impact statement. After that there would be a public hearing. Then there would be 10-12 months before they could approve --
"At this point God created Hell."
THE ULTIMATE URBAN LEGEND?
Craig Shergold is a 10 year old boy who is dying of cancer. Before he dies, he would like to set the world record for receiving the most Neiman-Marcus Cookie Recipes. You can help Craig by sending an irate fax to LEXIS-NEXIS demanding that they remove all traces of your mother's maiden name from their executive washroom wall.
They will respond by sending e-mail labeled "goodtimes" to the computer controlling Craig's life support equipment. When Felippe Linz, the technician operating the computer opens this mail, his hard drive will be overwritten with thousands of credit card invoices for $250.00, erasing the last bit of evidence that Hilary was seen on the grassy knoll when JFK was shot, thus allowing world domination by Bill Gates, and his tri-lateral commission cronies who are eating fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches in the black helicopters with Elvis.
(Michael E. Stamm by way of Sam "Wildside" Longoria)
REACH OUT AND TOUCH SOMETHING
Matsushita Electric is promoting a new Japanese PC targeted at the Internet. Panasonic has developed a complete Japanese Web browser, and to make the system "user-friendly", licensed the cartoon character "Woody Woodpecker" as the "Internet guide." A huge marketing campaign was to have introduced the product in Japan last week, but the day before the ads were to be released, Panasonic suddenly delayed the product launch indefinitely.
The reason: the ads featured the slogan:
"Touch Woody - The Internet Pecker."
Be E-ing You -- P-P
© 1996/2002 by Phil Proctor