"Life’s a queer little man, kiddie."
Wendell Corey to Jack Palance in "The Big Knife," 1955



Sometimes I feel like a ‘fugee from the Dumbell Nebula, like in the last issue, when due to the lateness of the hour I posted a garbled quote that only someone with a Proctor to English dictionary could understand:

"She’s so professionaames Keach, at the Golden Globe Awards, 1995, speaking of his wife, actress Jane Seymor, star of Dr. "Quinn, Medicine Woman."

But what’s more frightening is that only one out of the millions who scan this scam wrote me to complain. In any event, here’s how the above should have read:

"She’s so professional that when all the guys on the crew have to go to the bathroom, she’ll hold it." James Keach, at the Golden Boot Awards, 1995, speaking of his wife, Jane Seymour, star of "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman."

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The above quote was corrected in time for the newsgroup and Web page edition of Planet Proctor - RJA]




This account of Keach’s remarks comes first-hand (first-ear?) from Annie Lockhart, one of my looping pals, who is also an accomplished horse handler. The Golden Boot Award is an annual charity event dedicated to the Western movie and is always a hoot (especially after a Gibson); but James’ remarks were particularly hilarious since he apparently was speaking with total sincerity.

I’ll try to be more careful in the future, but -- who cares? It’s free!




Yours fool-y ran into the indomitable H. Shearer at the Audio Engineering Society convention where I was guest of Wayne Newitt and the zany Mackie Design group. Harry and I chated briefly about seriously funny things and he expressed his greatest joy at writing his O.J. cybercolumn at http blah.blah.blah.Slate.com.* I only regret that I forgot to show him my O.J. wristwatch with the cop cars chasing the Bronco denoting the seconds!

Later this week, we entertained the great Penn Jillette and his charming assistant, actress Kari Coleman, for dinner. Penn’s in town to scare children on the "Sabrina" show, and we had a magical evening of bizarre stories and reminiscences. I had forgotten that years ago, he’d shown up at six Proctor & Bergman shows and asked permission to use our names when applying for the Barnum & Bailey Clown School. They accepted him anyway, and the rest is histrionics.

[*EDITOR’S NOTE: Slate is located at http://www.slate.com, and Harry’s specific column can be found at http://www.slate.com/DandD/Current/DandD.asp?File=HarryShearerOnOJ.]




Atlantic Beach, Fla. (Reuter) - Does one voter make a difference? That question had Florida election officials scratching their heads Wednesday, because the one voter didn’t show up.

At issue was whether tiny Dutton Island in the Intracoastal Waterway would be annexed into the city of Atlantic Beach. The state plans to make Dutton Island a park. Under Florida law, there have to be two elections before land can be annexed. The voters of Atlantic Beach which has about 2,500 registered voters, had one of them, and passed the annexation issue by a lopsided margin. But there also had to be an election on Dutton Island, where only one registered voter lives.

The county elections office called the person, explained the situation and said, "It’s all up to you," according to Jim Jarboe, the Atlantic Beach Manager. Election day came, the poll opened, and the lone voter -- who has not been identified -- never showed up.

Now Atlantic Beach has to wait for the state to interpret the law to determine whether the one voter’s abstention would prevent the annexation. But Jarboe said he was not sure it would be worth any more trouble. "It’s not like Dutton Island would have brought us any real tax revenue," he said. "There’s nothing there but an old boat yard. There used to be a restaurant, but it closed," he said. (Thanks to Richard "I voted for Tirebiter" Fish)




Last week chronicled the departure at the age of 82 of the man who introduced the Zip Code in 1961, James Edward Day. He died of a bad code. His mail will not be forwarded as his present address is unknown.

Also listed as missing and presumed dead was Milton S, Merlin, former president of the Radio Writers’ Guild and scribe of the TV series "The Millionaire:

"I have nothing but contempt for Hollywood," the ex-UC Berkeley philosophy major ranted in an interview for the Times in 1983. "I have nothing but contempt for writers. When I get together with other writers, I want to talk about ideas, about books and Shakespeare. But writers only want to talk about their work and their agents."

His last released work was the book, "May You Live to Be 200." Volume Two has been canceled.

And if you mourned the loss of Ed Wood, be prepared to apply more glyderin as Maurice Duke, cigar-chomping, self-proclaimed "last of the great showmen," has left the lot at the age of 86.

He was proud to say he’d produced 103 films during his lifetime and that all of them were "bad." According to L.A. Times columnist Al Martinez, Duke was "loud, coarse, insistent, self-promoting and irresistible." and his weekly breakfast at the famed Nate’n’Als was described as "a table that sizzles and spits with a thousand years of wit." (I’d say the same thing about dinner at Benihana’s, but it’s only the grease.)

Since Duke was stricken with polio as an infant, his leg braces and cane prompted the late comic Joe E. Brown to describe him as "the only man who walks around with his own Erector set."

Among his worst accomplishments were "the Atomic Kid," and "Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla." He also worked briefly with the Firesign Theatre (in a segment taped but never aired) when he produced "The Lohhman and Barkley Show" for local station KTLA.




The Republic of Chad (and Jeremy) famous for raising cabbages and leveling kings, is the latest to enter into the deadly international collectors stamp business by issuing an oversized memorial edition of President Clinton with his sax and Elvis Presley with his axe playing side by side. The emotional promotional release claims that Bad Bill has frequently evoked the King’s name in his marathon speeches, even though we all know he hasn’t got a creative bone in his body, thanks to David "I’m On The" Brinkley. It can be purchased like the MAPKC-LEHHON stamp by taking your life in your hands and dialing 1-800-386-4577. It’s a great gift ideal, but don’t tell ‘em I sent ya. . .




And if you want to wear a highly dangerous MAPKC-LEHHOH stamp on your chest, you can order one from Fearless Timothy Tuttfield at ttuffiel@orednet.com. They’re cheap and beautifully printed (or beautiful and cheaply printed) on a high-quality subtly colored short-sleeved cotton tee, but they’re not bullet-proof; so don’t wear them to a Georgian political rally. A great grief idea!




Kissin’ don’t last -- cookin’ do.
If you don’t wash cabbage, it will keep longer.
Restore dull brass to a mirror finish -- with worcestershire sauce.
Cola gone flat? Use it to clean your toilet bowl.
Get twice the juice from a single lemon by heating it in the oven first.
We grow too soon old and too late smart.
Control cabbageworms with sour milk.

(And next issue, Yoder will tell you how to serve two-year old cheese to your family -- and they’ll never know the difference.)




A giant panda stomps into a old West saloon and growls "Gimme some food!" After panda-ing it down, he grabs a six-shooter, plugs the piano player, and heads for the door.

The bartender hollers "Hey! You just killed my piano player, and you haven’t paid me for the food!" The panda replies, "What’s the matter you? I’m a panda! Look it up!" And out he goes. The stunned bartender looks up "panda" in the dictionary and reads:

"Large furry marsupial of the Asian continent. Eats shoots and leaves."

(Thank you Vanna, I think . . .)




Sex Fantasy Doodle Books, Engine-Spiraled Stabilized Toy Footballs, Newborn Ant-Theft Devices and Neonatal Nets, Ball-point Pens with Condoms, Artificial Fingernails with Clock and Date Displays, Simpson Family Chess Sets, Star Trek Parking Signs, "Nobody Knows I’m Elvis" Sweatshirts, Tongue Cleaners, Interspecies Telepathic Animal Counseling Instructional Videos, Umbilical Cord Birth Amulets, Intimate Size Prayer Wheels from Katmandu, Turtle Love Flutes from Mexico, Balinesian Rayon Dancing Pants, Ebony Stupas, Dragon Blow Guns from Borneo, Tibetan Skull Cups (Skoal!) and Male Multiple Orgasm Seminar Tapes.

(All gifts are real and come from "Peculiar Patents" by Dr. Rick Feinberg, The Wireles, and Pacific Spirit Catalogues.) Order now!




Supposedly from the Vancouver Sun with dubious regards to Wayne Wacky Mackie Newitt, fresh from the AES:

"In retrospect, I admit it was unwise to try to gain access to my house via the cat flap," Gunther Burpus admitted to reporters in Bremen, Germany. "I suppose the reason they’re called cat flaps, rather than human flaps, is because they’re too small for people, and perhaps I should have realized that."

Burpus, a forty-one year old gardener from Bremen, was relating how he had become trapped in his own front door for two days, after losing his house keys. "I got my head and shoulders through the flap, but became trapped fast around the waist. At first, it all seemed rather amusing. I sang songs and told myself jokes. But then I wanted to go to the lavatory.

"I began shouting for help, but my head was in the hallway so my screams were muffled. After a few hours, a group of students approached me but, instead of helping, they removed my trousers and pants, painted my buttocks bright blue, and stuck a daffodil between my cheeks. Then they placed a sign next to me which said ‘Germany resurgent, an essay in street art. Please give generously’ and left me there.

"People were passing by and, when I asked for help, they just said ‘Very good! Very clever!’ and threw coins into my trousers. No one tried to free me. In fact, I only got free after two days because a dog started licking my private parts and an old woman complained to the police. They came and cut me out, but arrested me as soon as I was freed. Luckily they’ve now dropped the charges, and I collected over 3,000 Deutschmarks in my underpants, so the time wasn’t entirely wasted."




The Top 12 Rejected Public Holidays:

12 Start of Christmas Season Day

11 False Labor Day

10 Make a Move on Your Secretary Day

9 Hallmark Card Day

8 Bring Your Handgun to Work Day

7 Newtsmas

6 Deadbeat Father’s Day

5 Bad Hair Day

4 Put Your Daughter To Work Day

3 Doris Day

2 St. Hooter’s Day

. . .and the Number 1 Rejected Public Holiday:

1 Hash Wednesday

(This list is copyrighted 1996 by Chris White and Ziff-Davis as The Top Five List and should you want to contribute, email to top5@walrus.com. The Top Five Web Site can be found at http://www.topfive.com.)

And "cnasiba" to Ev-genius Volokh!



(NEXT WEEK: Parts of Bart’s Blackboard List -- so don’t send me any more!)


"I will not finish what I sta"


Bart Proctor


Published 11/15/96


© 1996/2002 by Phil Proctor