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Week 498: Not So Instant Karma; Two Special Announcements and the Week That Is

The Wheel Grinds Patiently

In 1968, at the age of nine, I allowed a classmate we will call “Louise Haas” (not her real name, but close) to get a lecture for something I did. The offense was cussing. It was recess and I had told someone to “eat shit” or something of that third-gradely nature, unaware that the playground monitor was in earshot.

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Week 496: End of Days Jobs

Walter Orthmann died at age one-hundred-two this month. He holds the known world record for most years working for one employer. Mr. Orthmann labored at a Brazilian textile plant from 1938 to 2022; from age sixteen to an even hundred. Eighty four years.

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Week 492: Parental Wisdom; August Reading; Food and Fodder

Parental Guidance

There’s one bit of advice that my late father gave me when I was too young to scrutinize advice, yet it remains something I’ve neither forgotten nor defied: “Don’t eat canned stewed tomatoes.”

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It Had to Be Ewe by Leila Allison

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Beezer and Barkevious claim to be brothers. That’s unlikely in the physical sense–Beezer is a British Bulldog and Barkevious is a Scottish Terrier; but nowadays you can be anything you want to be until you try to buy life insurance. Then again, since they are talking Dogs who live in the make-believe realm of Saragun Springs, such a claim remains possible. Regardless, the boys were wandering the realm’s countryside sniffing for rancid stuff to roll in when they saw Conrad the Blackface Ram headed their way.

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Week 490: Random Thoughts in the Dark

 

Television, in my humble opinion, is the form of storytelling that has changed most from what it was fifty years ago. Films already featured grittier affairs with Bonnie and Clyde, The Godfather and The French Connection. Hair was often played in the nude on Broadway, and books had long since broken taboos. But TV (at least American, but I imagine elsewhere) was drastically different in 1974.

This was due more to there being only three main network channels in the United States than anything else. Oh, there were the “Good Seal” codes and such, but the instant cable came along, and special effects got cheaper via computerization, it wasn’t long until big time foul language, realistic violence and faked sex made Showtime and HBO big hits. The first person I ever heard say “fuck” and “motherfucker” on TV was Richard Pryor–in fact he must have said every dirty word possible in ninety minutes–a friend had HBO and a live performance of his was aired (incidentally, he was very funny and the cursing was never the punchline). 

Network TV pretended to be family friendly, but it has always been much more money friendly. Yet the rules were silly. Violence was fine, without gore, but husbands and wives slept in twin beds well into the 1960’s. It was so repressed that when a toilet was actually heard flushing on All in the Family in 1971 (the year network television began to grow up, slowly), the laughter was sustained for at least thirty seconds. 

But to be fair, network seasons ran apace with the school year. Sitcoms had as many as thirty-six episodes to produce and the hour long programs were not that far behind them. They had to do stuff on the fly, and along with content prohibitions they did not have the luxury of “crafting” thirteen episodes, as we see today. This led to many basic storylines and plot contrivances making the rounds, especially in detective shows of the seventies, of which there were a zillion on the three channels. 

One storyline I saw way too often on programs such as Cannon and Barnaby Jones involved the plot from the Spencer Tracy film “Bad Day at Black Rock.” Basically the PI would arrive alone in a small, secretive town to find the truth about the death of a pal who died in the town under unusual circumstances. 

The townsfolk are mean and act guilty as hell. The so-called law and order is a murderous, corrupt sheriff usually played by Claude Akins. Bullies try to intimidate the hero, but to no avail. Even ol’ Barnaby ain’t afraid of no bully. They won’t even serve the hero fresh pie in the cafe. But one of the townsfolk is a good person who aids the detective. The truth comes out in the last five minutes as the State Police come in. There must have been fifty versions of this story between 1955 and 1980. 

There were other common plots: You had the “so and so’s license is on the line” episode; the “framed for murder, and is on the run to prove his innocence” episode, etcetera etcetera. If it was used in a sleuth film of yore you’d eventually see it on McMillan and Wife

Yet there was something comforting about old TV–although it was a product not much different in purpose than a Hostess Twinkee. It made you feel secure to know that despite it all, Perry Mason would win, Columbo would outfox someone who was a B film lead in the 40’s and that despite the action, husky William Conrad would not drop dead on camera. Life was as easy as shooting a bad guy in the trigger hand. (Tidy too, being that there’s never any blood.) 

Late night retro television is as nostalgic as drinking highballs and smoking in a bar as dark as underwater. But every fifteen minutes the spell is broken by an incontinence ad, which causes you to think about death. The programming doesn’t help much in that situation because it is extremely rare to see a then middle aged or greater actor who’s still alive today.

(Very much alive Bill Shatner guested on all these shows–along with the late Whit Bisslell; Captain Kirk and Barnaby’s Lee Meriwether are often the only living links to those days of phone booths and courtesy matchbooks.) 

Hemingway, I think, wrote “all true stories end with death.” I disagree. I say “All true stories end with adult diapers.” Regardless of the Awful Truth it is encouraging to see since stilled faces keeping on half a century later. It gives people a strange immortality, regardless of the underwhelming writing. 

Still, the poor abused writers shouldn’t take the blame. It was the producer who told them what to write. There’s a lesson there: if you write something you hate for short term profit it might make someone’s face turn sour in 2074. 

Segue Time

This is another six pack week beginning with, once again, a welcomed turn by Tom Sheehan (who was already publishing for twenty years before the seventies). Swan River Daisy was rerun and it is one of Tom’s earliest site contributions (of which he now totals 222). He weaves words and you get a sense that his effortlessness is the result of endless revisions. 

Astonishingly, Tom is over eighty years older than Monday’s author, Mason Koa, who made his second site appearance. Dissecting Angels is brilliant and makes me a little bit jealous of Mason. There’s a level of wit and humour here that one shouldn’t expect from a teen–but there it is. It’s good to see hope for the future. 

Remember Veera Laitinen? You should, Veera made her site debut last week and was already back for a second with Solar Storm 2012 on Tuesday. It takes the right touch to get this familiar topic over, and Veera has it. Like Mason, we hope to see her third soon. 

Sexual obsession and all its creepy minions appeared Wednesday. Always Winona by Hannah Richardson is brilliantly laid out with an outstanding reveal toward the end. Told from the POV of the obsessed, a tremendous sense of foreboding climbs to the finish. 

A bit of delightful whimsy stole Thursday. Carrot Season by newcomer Alex Maciockay is a winning piece that shows no matter how absurd the mission, it is the tale of the journey that will always carry the day. 

JD Clapp returned with Patsy’s Last Gig to close the week. The world JD creates is immersive and you root for the MC even though you know he is as unfairly considered as washed up as the era of smoky lounges and Jazz clubs on the strip. A requiem for a past that really shouldn’t have died alone. 

There they are, six winners. And if you would like the taste of victory, we recommend that you write a feature about a book or an author that you are fond of. Unless you really botch it up, odds are that it will land well. (Please include a Spoiler Alert if you tell the denouement–fancy word of the week–for persons who have yet to read your selection.)

 Archeological MeTV

I close this latest site dig with a list of “comfort shows” that usually ended with a chipper little get-together of the main cast–no matter how much death and pain went on for the previous hour (actually forty-three minutes). Please add your own–UK shows and all are welcome. (Also happy 55th birthday to all the first stuff the fellas left on the Moon!)

 

1.) Star Trek (I must figure out how many times an episode wrapped with the McCoy being whimsically slighted by Mr. Ears)

2.) Barnaby Jones

3.) Cannon (usually involved good food and wine)

4.) Mannix (in a surprisingly good mood after all the gunshot wounds and skull fractures)

5.) Perry Mason (it’s interesting to wonder who got burlier over the nine years, Raymond Burr or William Hopper)

6.) Hawaii Five-O (not always chipper, but nine times in ten you’d hear “Book ‘em Dan-O.” I recall thinking that just once it would be cool for Dan-O to ask McGarret if his fucking arms were painted on or what.

7.) The Waltons (For some reason I really doubt that “Goodnight, Hugh.” “Goodnight, Gramma,” were heard at the end of the day in the Cron household of yore.

8.) Highway Patrol–Broderick Crawford took all the killing he did as seriously as some people choose between fries and onion rings for lunch. Ten-four.

9.) Dragnet (1967-70 version)–The most under-rated unintentional sitcom ever. I’d list the moments, but if unfamiliar, you ought to check it out on YouTube. My favorite laugh riot featured “Mr. Daniel Loomis.” (I will add a clip at the end, which we have arrived at, now that I think of it.)

  • I leave it to you

 Leila

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Sign Of The Times Too (The Mile-Stone Inspector)

Bernie loved this day and age.

Before, he was always cold.

He never had enough to eat.

And he hated to admit it, his weakness, his curse, his companion, his reason to stay alive was the sauce. These days he had as much booze as he wanted…Well…

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Week 488: The Classics and “Hey, the teacher smells like beer.”

But First a Special Announcement

The Special Announcement:

Our Sunday features continue to thrive, especially the long standing rerun and the relatively new interview segment. And what we call the Auld Author has done well, but we feel that restricting it to the fairly obscure and/or nearly forgotten is unfair to well known works, which need to be kept alive lest they fall into obscurity.

So we proudly announce that articles about famous authors and books will now be welcomed. For example, you may either extol something like Stephen King’s unabridged The Stand or even let fly against it because you feel that the short version is better. (That is an actual opinion held by yours truly.)

We believe that highlighting works that more than one person is familiar with will stimulate conversation to an even higher degree.

Still, if you do have an obscure or lost subject, we are still happy to see it come in.

One bit of caution: back in the old days, in New York City, there was a practice called “log rolling” (called that for a reason that appears lost to time), in which author friends who did reviews at different publications gave each other rave notices to plump up sales. I would never suggest that any of our esteemed contributors or readers would use this feature to tout a pal’s book if I didn’t believe that some of you are capable of it!

We hope to see your articles flood the inbox. And if there are any questions, we will be happy to answer them.

We Now Return to Regular Programming

The worst thing that can happen to an author is to become the object of assigned reading in high school. Somehow William Shakespeare continues to survive that curse, but it has been the kiss of death for historical authors who do not always deserve the “boring” label. Boring is in the yawn of the beholder and should not be an automatic reaction to something your fifth period Lit teacher has dumped into your life.

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Week 486: Beware of the Amazing Bogey-Duck

(As for the image, Elliot is on vacation this week)

Maybe I’m Amazed

I live by the water–by name, the Puget Sound, a cold and unforgiving northern sea connected to the Pacific Ocean; abundant with life, ghosts and sources of amazement. When I was small I’d amaze myself with the idea that I could get in a row boat anywhere on the Sound and proceed to China without having to touch land once. I dismissed a nagging voice that informed me that I’d likely drown long before reaching the Strait of Juan de Fuca; nagging voices are for grown ups. And although I’ve dealt with the Sound in one way or another nearly everyday of my life, I do not know how to swim beyond the sort of “floating stroke” peculiar to corpses. Cold northern seas will kill an unprotected Olympic swimmer just as fast as any non-aquatic type of person; thus the skill is as futile as wearing an asbestos suit for a walk on the sun. But the sea and surroundings are excellent places to spice up reality through what I like to call “self amazement.”

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Week 482: Remembering Jon Brower Minnoch; Five Acts of Daily Goodness; the A to Z of Slang and Catchphrases

Jon Brower Minnoch (1941-1983) was, and remains, the heaviest known human being ever to live (according to Guiness). He topped out at 1400 pounds ( a hundred stone in the UK). He holds many weight related records including the most pounds lost (900 plus) and the greatest weight difference between husband and wife (1300). Mr. and Mrs. Minnoch had two children, which is testament to both the determination of life and a prime example of something I’d rather not consider too deeply.

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Fantasy, Humour, Short Fiction

The Adventures of Beezer and Barkevious by Leila Allison

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I heard toenails slipping on linoleum in the kitchenette off my office. Only Dogs create that sound; and sure enough, upon inspection, I discovered the “Baw Brothers,” Beezer and Barkevious, teaming to raid the refrigerator. I am guilty of leaving the fridge door ajar, so this situation happens almost constantly.

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