Considering the time of year it is, and in this specific instance, you bet your ass it should.
You are catching me today with my dander up.
If you were to look upwards, you would undoubtedly see my dander.
I am in particularly high dudgeon.
Again, if you were to look upward, that would be MY dudgeon you'd be staring at.
This one requires major backstory, and most-likely much expansiveness on my part.
When I was growing up, in public school, junior high, and high school, I had a very good friend.
Now he is simply an old acquaintance whom I'm now convinced should totally be forgot.
I'm only going to half out him.
I'll give you his last name.
It is Zisser.
I'm only doing this because after the major figurative slap in the face he gave me, my only other choice would be to physically confront him, literally slap his face, and challenge him to a duel.
And physically, I'm really not up to that.
So, figuring on the likelihood that he has Google Alert, his last name should be enough to call this to his attention.
I mean, what's the point of having a blog if you can't use it to settle scores with?
As a child, and as an adolescent, Zisser was always my stalking horse.
He was always a much better student than me.
He always got better grades than me.
I swear that by the time he was eleven years old, he had his career choice mapped out.
He was going to be a lawyer, just like his way-older brother.
I, of course, into my early twenties, had no idea what I wanted to be.
Zisser was the example I was supposed to follow, according to my mother.
Hanging on the foyer wall in his parents' apartment in Queens was his Bar Mitzvah picture.
Next to it, in his handwriting in magic marker, was his name, followed by, in quotes, "The Best Boy In The World".
I really couldn't argue with that.
As far as I could tell, he WAS the best boy in the world.
And he wasn't embarrassed that it was still hanging there throughout his college career.
I suppose I should have suspected then that this was the first sign that he would become a full-fledged terminal braggart.
With my mother, it was always "Why couldn't you graduate college in four years, and go on to law school, like Zisser?
Why is it taking you six, and you still don't know what you want to do with yourself?"
I had to explain to her, more than once, "Well, you see ma? It's simply because I am not the best boy in the world.
Zisser is. I don't stand a chance."
I would be met with "Well, don't you WANT to be the best boy in the world?"
I'd reply "Desperately. With all my heart. (And I meant it) But that title is already taken. I can't wrest it from him."
After college, Zisser and I kind of drifted apart.
He went on to law school, and I went on to nothing, until I
fell into writing.
We went to each other's weddings, each involving much travel, because we lived in different regions of the country.
I always sensed that there was some lingering competitiveness between us.
Particularly after I had made it big in TV writing.
And Zisser probably figured that even though he was now a successful lawyer, I could probably buy and sell him five times over.
And he'd have been right.
And it probably didn't sit well.
He followed all the rules. He got out of college in four years. I was headed for bumdom.
It didn't compute.
He should have been in a position to say "I told you so."
But I never gave him that opportunity.
The last time I saw Zisser was at his daughter's Bat Mitzvah, about ten years ago, in Florida, where they still live, and where that
fackockta "Best Boy in the World" Bar Mitzvah picture is probably still hanging on some wall in his house.
The event turned out to be a two-day orgy of self-congratulation and homage to this little girl of thirteen, who apparently was the greatest scholar and greatest humanitarian the world would ever see.
More and more examples of this were shared during this orgy.
I wonder if Zisser gave any thought to his guests, who also had daughters who were his daughter's contemporaries, who were perhaps not as scholarly or humanitarian as Zisser's.
Any thought that he might be rubbing their noses in it?
Like his "Best Boy In The World" picture was rubbing my nose in it?
So the title of "Best Girl In The World" was bestowed on her.
I think the mold of "Best Boy In The World" was first cast by
Zisser's way-older brother.
He became a major star defense attorney in Florida.
Zisser then joined his law firm, becoming an attorney specializing in divorce cases.
Cashing in on human misery, as it were.
Cleaning up, and cleaning up on, messy divorces.
His way-older brother was once featured on "A Current Affair", depicted as the crafty Jew lawyer who got his obviously guilty client off on a murder rap by outsmarting the other lawyer.
That was his job.
But maybe if he actually was the original "Best Boy In The World", he might have turned his talents to becoming a D.A.
What am I thinking?
That would require a major pay cut.
He's a member of my tribe.
So that would be out of the question.
These were my first indications that they both were perhaps not worthy of their titles.
Next, how I got slapped in the face, and why I'm slapping back.
I'll give you a hint.
It has to do with yet even more recent and substantial nose-rubbing.
Happy New Year, all!
Well, almost all.......
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
Friday, December 30, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
Old Bread, Old Rolls. Part Five.
Frank Capra directed some really great movies.
"It Happened One Night"
"Mr. Deeds Goes To Town"
Mr. Smith Goes To Washington"
"You Can't Take It With You"
"Lady For a Day"
"Meet John Doe"
"Arsenic and Old Lace" (Cary Grant at his funniest)
and of course, "It's a Wonderful Life".
There was another great one, "American Madness", from 1932, which, upon viewing, seems to be the basis for "It's A Wonderful Life".
Capra was a major voice in the anti-colorization crusade that began when movies started being colorized.
As someone who shot most of his movies in black-and white, I suppose you can understand why.
Capra was always wrapping the American Flag around himself.
With colorization, he was wrapping "artisitic integrity" around himself.
Now, I've seen the colorized versions of "It's A Wonderful Life" and "Arsenic and Old Lace"
Not harmed artistically in the least.
They lost none of their integrity.
I think they were even improved.
There was nothing particularly aesthetic to their black and white nature.
But with Capra, it was a matter of "artistic integrity".
That's not the way he made them.
Funny, how when the two movies Capra made in color, the very good
"A Hole In The Head", and the absolutely stinking, in spite of Peter Falk's great performance, "Pocketful of Miracles", both showed up on televison a few years after they were made, when most viewers still had black and white TV sets, and the movies were cut up, and broken up for commercials, you didn't hear a peep out of Capra and his "artistic integrity".
He just scooped up his "Pocketful of Residuals" and kept his mouth shut.
Capra also made a slew of movies in the really early 30's that I've never seen, and would really like to.
There was an even bigger stinker, right out of the "Old Bread, Old Rolls" playbook, which showed where Capra really stood on "artistic integrity".
In 1934, Capra made a pretty good movie called "Broadway Bill".
It starred Warner Baxter as a down-on-his-luck horse trainer who invested his entire future on the outcome of a horserace, that included his horse, Broadway Bill.
Hence, the title.
In 1950, Capra decided to do a remake of "Broadway Bill".
It was called "Riding High"
He got Bing Crosby to do Warner Baxter's part.
And what Capra did was the cheapest-looking, chinciest, cheesiest example of "Old Bread, Old Rolls" that anyone can imagine.
He literally used at least half the footage from "Broadway Bill", not just racetrack stock footage, but complete scenes, with actors and dialogue, and cut it together with the new stuff he shot with Der Bingle.
The result was a schizoid looking movie, half of which looked like it was shot in the early 30's, with 30's looking automobiles, and telephones that required two hands to use them, intercut with footage that was obviously shot in the 50's.
One-handed telephones.
50's-looking automobiles.
Much clearer looking footage than the graininess of the early 30's footage.
There has always been a distinct difference between movies made in the 30's
and movies made in the 50's.
And it constantly kept bouncing back and forth between the two eras.
It was really jarring, and completely took you out of the story.
Many of the same supporting cast was used: Ward Bond, Margaret Hamilton, Douglas Dumbrille, Charles Lane, Raymond Walburn, Clarence Muse, Paul Harvey, Irving Bacon, and others.
And in the latter footage, they all looked significantly older.
So they kept looking older and younger. And younger and older.
You didn't need a trained eye to notice this.
There was even a scene where Capra, aware of the problem, staged it so that Crosby was talking to all these actors. who were facing him,
wearing hats, with their backs to the camera.
You only saw Crosby's face.
Why this movie was done with this overall approach is a mystery.
Maybe Capra owed the studio a picture, balked at the prospect, and wanted to deliver it as lazily as possible.
Or maybe they gave him a larger budget and he'd gain a "Pocketful of Extra Cash" he wouldn't have to spend making an entirely new movie.
Anyway, it was completely grotesque.
"Artistic Integrity" did not raise it's head in this instance.
Your honor, I submit that this was the most egregious example of "Old Bread, Old Rolls" ever perpetrated.
The equivalent of the Nuremburg Trials would have been appropriate.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
"It Happened One Night"
"Mr. Deeds Goes To Town"
Mr. Smith Goes To Washington"
"You Can't Take It With You"
"Lady For a Day"
"Meet John Doe"
"Arsenic and Old Lace" (Cary Grant at his funniest)
and of course, "It's a Wonderful Life".
There was another great one, "American Madness", from 1932, which, upon viewing, seems to be the basis for "It's A Wonderful Life".
Capra was a major voice in the anti-colorization crusade that began when movies started being colorized.
As someone who shot most of his movies in black-and white, I suppose you can understand why.
Capra was always wrapping the American Flag around himself.
With colorization, he was wrapping "artisitic integrity" around himself.
Now, I've seen the colorized versions of "It's A Wonderful Life" and "Arsenic and Old Lace"
Not harmed artistically in the least.
They lost none of their integrity.
I think they were even improved.
There was nothing particularly aesthetic to their black and white nature.
But with Capra, it was a matter of "artistic integrity".
That's not the way he made them.
Funny, how when the two movies Capra made in color, the very good
"A Hole In The Head", and the absolutely stinking, in spite of Peter Falk's great performance, "Pocketful of Miracles", both showed up on televison a few years after they were made, when most viewers still had black and white TV sets, and the movies were cut up, and broken up for commercials, you didn't hear a peep out of Capra and his "artistic integrity".
He just scooped up his "Pocketful of Residuals" and kept his mouth shut.
Capra also made a slew of movies in the really early 30's that I've never seen, and would really like to.
There was an even bigger stinker, right out of the "Old Bread, Old Rolls" playbook, which showed where Capra really stood on "artistic integrity".
In 1934, Capra made a pretty good movie called "Broadway Bill".
It starred Warner Baxter as a down-on-his-luck horse trainer who invested his entire future on the outcome of a horserace, that included his horse, Broadway Bill.
Hence, the title.
In 1950, Capra decided to do a remake of "Broadway Bill".
It was called "Riding High"
He got Bing Crosby to do Warner Baxter's part.
And what Capra did was the cheapest-looking, chinciest, cheesiest example of "Old Bread, Old Rolls" that anyone can imagine.
He literally used at least half the footage from "Broadway Bill", not just racetrack stock footage, but complete scenes, with actors and dialogue, and cut it together with the new stuff he shot with Der Bingle.
The result was a schizoid looking movie, half of which looked like it was shot in the early 30's, with 30's looking automobiles, and telephones that required two hands to use them, intercut with footage that was obviously shot in the 50's.
One-handed telephones.
50's-looking automobiles.
Much clearer looking footage than the graininess of the early 30's footage.
There has always been a distinct difference between movies made in the 30's
and movies made in the 50's.
And it constantly kept bouncing back and forth between the two eras.
It was really jarring, and completely took you out of the story.
Many of the same supporting cast was used: Ward Bond, Margaret Hamilton, Douglas Dumbrille, Charles Lane, Raymond Walburn, Clarence Muse, Paul Harvey, Irving Bacon, and others.
And in the latter footage, they all looked significantly older.
So they kept looking older and younger. And younger and older.
You didn't need a trained eye to notice this.
There was even a scene where Capra, aware of the problem, staged it so that Crosby was talking to all these actors. who were facing him,
wearing hats, with their backs to the camera.
You only saw Crosby's face.
Why this movie was done with this overall approach is a mystery.
Maybe Capra owed the studio a picture, balked at the prospect, and wanted to deliver it as lazily as possible.
Or maybe they gave him a larger budget and he'd gain a "Pocketful of Extra Cash" he wouldn't have to spend making an entirely new movie.
Anyway, it was completely grotesque.
"Artistic Integrity" did not raise it's head in this instance.
Your honor, I submit that this was the most egregious example of "Old Bread, Old Rolls" ever perpetrated.
The equivalent of the Nuremburg Trials would have been appropriate.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Old Bread. Old Rolls. Part Four.
Today's incident is the one that inspired this whole series of articles.
It's the one that reminded me of the original "Old Bread, Old Rolls" story, because it is so strikingly similar.
A couple of weeks ago, it was once again Pledge Week on your favorite and mine, my local PBS station in Detroit.
My wife had Tivoed a musical special called "Moments To Remember", a traipse down early 1950's Memory Lane.
I remember seeing it quite a few years ago, and enjoying it.
I even wrote about it here once, at some point.
So when my wife put it on for her mother to watch, I started to get caught up with it again.
Before they got to the body of the show, the hosts, Nick Clooney (Georgie's father) and Patti Page, informed us over and over that this was, in fact, NOT a rerun of the show that was on several years ago.
That it was in fact, an entirely new show.
Because they had had so much positive response from the first show, they decided to come out with an entirely new version.
This certainly peaked my interest, and had me hooked.
After a few new numbers that were not included in the original show, they started including retreads of numbers that were.
They had Julius La Rosa singing "Domani", using the same piece of videotape where his pocket handkerchief started out on the right side,
then magically switched to the left side.
Then he once again sang Eh, Cumpari".
Same piece of video.
Then, they once again shlepped out a 94 year-old Frankie Laine, to sing "That's My Desire".
Making no allusion to the fact that the man had died six years ago.
This was not part of a new show.
All in all, I'd say that at least 40% of the material was recycled from the previous special.
And the stuff that replaced it was decidedly inferior.
Stuff that obviously didn't make the cut for the original show, because that stuff lacked the quality of the stuff that did.
They shlepped out The DeCastro Sisters, whose one and only hit was "Teach Me Tonight", which they sang.
These were three women with ancient faces, each wearing wildly inappropriate teased jet-black wigs.
They were, in short, child-frighteners.
And they now have all since died.
One, as early as 2004.
So this number was shot back then.
They had simply gone to the vault of what was left over and exhumed it.
Again, not exactly new.
And, of course, no mention of anyone now being dead was mentioned.
They did an interesting interview with the pianist Roger Williams, who is now also dead.
No reference to that.
They had groups on that I had never heard of, who did cover versions of other people's hits.
We were not getting a "totally new show".
We were getting the dregs of what was left from the previous show, with filler from stuff we'd already seen.
Because they didn't HAVE enough material to put together an enirely new show.
PBS must have figured that the demographic was so old for this show that nobody would know the difference.
You know.
Just like "Old Bread and Old Rolls".
I have since thought of one more glaring example of "Old Bread, Old Rolls", perpetrated by the usually great director, Frank Capra.
He wasn't great this time.
More about it next time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
It's the one that reminded me of the original "Old Bread, Old Rolls" story, because it is so strikingly similar.
A couple of weeks ago, it was once again Pledge Week on your favorite and mine, my local PBS station in Detroit.
My wife had Tivoed a musical special called "Moments To Remember", a traipse down early 1950's Memory Lane.
I remember seeing it quite a few years ago, and enjoying it.
I even wrote about it here once, at some point.
So when my wife put it on for her mother to watch, I started to get caught up with it again.
Before they got to the body of the show, the hosts, Nick Clooney (Georgie's father) and Patti Page, informed us over and over that this was, in fact, NOT a rerun of the show that was on several years ago.
That it was in fact, an entirely new show.
Because they had had so much positive response from the first show, they decided to come out with an entirely new version.
This certainly peaked my interest, and had me hooked.
After a few new numbers that were not included in the original show, they started including retreads of numbers that were.
They had Julius La Rosa singing "Domani", using the same piece of videotape where his pocket handkerchief started out on the right side,
then magically switched to the left side.
Then he once again sang Eh, Cumpari".
Same piece of video.
Then, they once again shlepped out a 94 year-old Frankie Laine, to sing "That's My Desire".
Making no allusion to the fact that the man had died six years ago.
This was not part of a new show.
All in all, I'd say that at least 40% of the material was recycled from the previous special.
And the stuff that replaced it was decidedly inferior.
Stuff that obviously didn't make the cut for the original show, because that stuff lacked the quality of the stuff that did.
They shlepped out The DeCastro Sisters, whose one and only hit was "Teach Me Tonight", which they sang.
These were three women with ancient faces, each wearing wildly inappropriate teased jet-black wigs.
They were, in short, child-frighteners.
And they now have all since died.
One, as early as 2004.
So this number was shot back then.
They had simply gone to the vault of what was left over and exhumed it.
Again, not exactly new.
And, of course, no mention of anyone now being dead was mentioned.
They did an interesting interview with the pianist Roger Williams, who is now also dead.
No reference to that.
They had groups on that I had never heard of, who did cover versions of other people's hits.
We were not getting a "totally new show".
We were getting the dregs of what was left from the previous show, with filler from stuff we'd already seen.
Because they didn't HAVE enough material to put together an enirely new show.
PBS must have figured that the demographic was so old for this show that nobody would know the difference.
You know.
Just like "Old Bread and Old Rolls".
I have since thought of one more glaring example of "Old Bread, Old Rolls", perpetrated by the usually great director, Frank Capra.
He wasn't great this time.
More about it next time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Old Bread, Old Rolls. Part Three.
As advertised, today I will reveal why the last two posts have had this somewhat cryptic title.
One of my friends from college, a Jew, told me this story from his childhood:
He and his family lived in Queens, as I did.
In the summer, for the entire summer, every year, they would go to a Catskill bungalow colony known in Yiddish as a "Kuchalein"
I'm not sure of the exact English spelling.
I'm not even sure that there is one.
"Kuchalein" literally meant that you had your own kitchen facilities in your bungalow.
You cooked alone.
That was the literal translation.
It wasn't like Grossinger's or the Concord, where the main object was for the management to stuff you with as much food as humanly possible, and for the guests, to be stuffed with as much food as is humanly possible.
For the younger female guests, another main goal was to meet a doctor who she could convince to marry her.
On an episode of "The Odd Couple", where Rob Reiner played Penny Marshall's boyfriend and felt the need to go on retreat, we had him go to a Kuchalein called, appropriately, "Cucky's Lane".
That name didn't make it past the Wednesday run-through.
It was replaced with a name with far less character---"Imglick's Lodge"
Our efforts at tribute went unappreciated.
So these Kuchaleins were definitely somewhat downward on the social scale, and far more family oriented.
There was a somwhat primitive quality to them.
Not the best plumbing facilities in the world.
Nobody had their own telephones in their bungalows.
The way the denizens of the Kuchaleins were able to make contact with civilization was with the one telephone available to all, which was located in Mr. Lipschitz's "Canteen", which was another way of referring to what was basically a General Store.
The Canteen was the 7-11 of it's time.
With overinflated prices to match.
And the bungalow guests were at Mr. Lipschitz's mercy, pricewise.
Mr. Lipschitz also had a microphone, attached to a public address system, so that if anyone received a call, they would be paged by Mr. Lipschitz over the loudspeaker.
Now Mr. Lipschitz was an "Immie".
A Concentration Camp survivor with tatooed numbers on his arms.
This, as in the other instances I related, caused the first generation American born Jews to resent him, along with his generally foul nature.
Mr. Lipschitz had a first generation American-born son named Warren, whom Mr. Lipschitz, with his thick foreign accent, called "Vodding".
As did everyone else there, usually mockingly, behind his back.
On what turned out in retrospect to be a typical day at the Canteen, "Vodding" cautioned his father that the expiration dates had been reached on many of the baked goods Mr. Lipschitz offered for sale.
Vodding suggested that they be replaced by the new shipment that had not yet been put on display.
Lipschitz countered with "Old bread, old rolls, they won't know the difference".
What Lipschitz was not aware of was that the microphone was turned on and that last sentence of his was heard over the P.A. system by everybody in the bungalow colony.
Within a matter of minutes, the entire population of the colony amassed in front of the Canteen, shouting "Old Bread, Old Rolls, they won't know the difference!"
Over and over.
Now I really don't know that this was "Immie Bashing".
It coulld just mean that Lipschitz was simply a contemptuous old cuss.
The bungalow denizens went on strike, never to enter the Canteen until it was "Under New Management"
This took place in about a week after Lipschitz had fled.
He probably beat a hastier retreat than he had when he fled the Nazis.
Stay tuned for Part Four, next time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
One of my friends from college, a Jew, told me this story from his childhood:
He and his family lived in Queens, as I did.
In the summer, for the entire summer, every year, they would go to a Catskill bungalow colony known in Yiddish as a "Kuchalein"
I'm not sure of the exact English spelling.
I'm not even sure that there is one.
"Kuchalein" literally meant that you had your own kitchen facilities in your bungalow.
You cooked alone.
That was the literal translation.
It wasn't like Grossinger's or the Concord, where the main object was for the management to stuff you with as much food as humanly possible, and for the guests, to be stuffed with as much food as is humanly possible.
For the younger female guests, another main goal was to meet a doctor who she could convince to marry her.
On an episode of "The Odd Couple", where Rob Reiner played Penny Marshall's boyfriend and felt the need to go on retreat, we had him go to a Kuchalein called, appropriately, "Cucky's Lane".
That name didn't make it past the Wednesday run-through.
It was replaced with a name with far less character---"Imglick's Lodge"
Our efforts at tribute went unappreciated.
So these Kuchaleins were definitely somewhat downward on the social scale, and far more family oriented.
There was a somwhat primitive quality to them.
Not the best plumbing facilities in the world.
Nobody had their own telephones in their bungalows.
The way the denizens of the Kuchaleins were able to make contact with civilization was with the one telephone available to all, which was located in Mr. Lipschitz's "Canteen", which was another way of referring to what was basically a General Store.
The Canteen was the 7-11 of it's time.
With overinflated prices to match.
And the bungalow guests were at Mr. Lipschitz's mercy, pricewise.
Mr. Lipschitz also had a microphone, attached to a public address system, so that if anyone received a call, they would be paged by Mr. Lipschitz over the loudspeaker.
Now Mr. Lipschitz was an "Immie".
A Concentration Camp survivor with tatooed numbers on his arms.
This, as in the other instances I related, caused the first generation American born Jews to resent him, along with his generally foul nature.
Mr. Lipschitz had a first generation American-born son named Warren, whom Mr. Lipschitz, with his thick foreign accent, called "Vodding".
As did everyone else there, usually mockingly, behind his back.
On what turned out in retrospect to be a typical day at the Canteen, "Vodding" cautioned his father that the expiration dates had been reached on many of the baked goods Mr. Lipschitz offered for sale.
Vodding suggested that they be replaced by the new shipment that had not yet been put on display.
Lipschitz countered with "Old bread, old rolls, they won't know the difference".
What Lipschitz was not aware of was that the microphone was turned on and that last sentence of his was heard over the P.A. system by everybody in the bungalow colony.
Within a matter of minutes, the entire population of the colony amassed in front of the Canteen, shouting "Old Bread, Old Rolls, they won't know the difference!"
Over and over.
Now I really don't know that this was "Immie Bashing".
It coulld just mean that Lipschitz was simply a contemptuous old cuss.
The bungalow denizens went on strike, never to enter the Canteen until it was "Under New Management"
This took place in about a week after Lipschitz had fled.
He probably beat a hastier retreat than he had when he fled the Nazis.
Stay tuned for Part Four, next time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Old Bread, Old Rolls. Part Two
There will be no further mention of "Old Bread, Old Rolls" in this post.
You might be wondering why the last post and this one bears that title.
It will become more than apparent when we reach part three.
As in part one, this post also relates to Jewish anti-semitic "Immie Mistrust", and also relates to my upstairs neighbors, the Freitags, when I was a kid growing up in the Bronx.
It also intrinsically involves my mother, Bella.
I don't recall if I mentioned this previously, but perfect casting if someone were to make a movie about Bella would be Estelle Harris, the brilliantly funny actress who played George Costanza's mother on Seinfeld.
The spitting image, in every detail.
Looks, voice, character, everything.
Estelle appeared in my first play in Los Angeles in the late 80's, before anyone knew who she was.
Many members of my family attended opening night of this highly autobiographical play.
When Estelle made her entrance and began speaking, my family members were absolutely stunned.
Bella had died about five years previously, and it was as if Estelle had brought her back to life.
So as I relate this story, it helps if you picture Estelle Harris as Bella.
As I mentioned previously, Bella had this attitude about "Immies", particularly the Freitags. Particularly Tamara, Mrs. Freitag.
But it also extended to their son, David.
David, as I mentioned, was one of my closest friends.
Mainly because I found him to be very good natured, and extremely funny.
But Bella, for no apparent reason at the time, except for the fact that he descended from "Immies", considered him a bad influence on me.
As even the best of friends do, David and I got mad at each other for some insignificant reason that I can't even remember.
We were at least momentarily on the outs with each other.
During this very brief period, a note was slipped under our apartment door.
It read "Tomorrow, your house will be bomed"
That was the spelling.
B-O-M-E-D.
And immediately, based on absolutely nothing, save "Immie-Mistrust", my mother suspected David of placing that note under our door.
Now I had gotten into lots of fights with other friends of mine, and I'm sure if I was on the outs with any of them, my mother wouldn't have jumped to a similar conclusion.
And there were certainly more than a handful of genuine Anti-Semites who lived in our building who who easily more likely suspects.
I know this because I remember when the Rabbi from my Hebrew School sent us all out to sell raffle tickets for the upkeep of the shul to people in our building, only for me to be met more than once with "Get away from me, you dirty Jew"
That put an end to my Door-To-Door salesman career.
I told the Rabbi as much.
It was like talking to a wall.
But I stuck to my retirement guns.
Also, David was far from illiterate, much less a bad speller.
It just didn't make any overt sense that he was the culprit.
But this didn't stop my prejudiced, lunatic mother from trying to prove David's guilt in the matter.
She approached it much in the same way that Captain Queeg tried hanging the Caine Mutiny on the theft of the strawberries.
With Geometric Logic.
She decided to ostensibly "Patch things up" between David and me by having us sit down together and write out "Peace Treaties" that my mother would dictate.
Yes, Peace Treaties.
I'm paraphrasing, but here's the gist:
"I promise that we will never fight with each other about anything ever again.
And that we will be brothers under the skin. Always together.
Through thick and through thin.
We will always remain together.
Even if we were in one of our houses and it was BOMBED, we would man the fortress together..."
Pretty subtle, hah?
So this whole charade, right out of a bad episode of "I Love Lucy", was designed to prove that David would misspell the word "Bombed".
But of course, he didn't.
It failed.
Just like Captain Queeg.
In Philip Roth's "Portnoy's Complaint", one of Alexander Portnoy's complaints to his psychiatrist is that he was raised by Hottentots
and Zulus.
I think I should be joining Portnoy on the couch.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
You might be wondering why the last post and this one bears that title.
It will become more than apparent when we reach part three.
As in part one, this post also relates to Jewish anti-semitic "Immie Mistrust", and also relates to my upstairs neighbors, the Freitags, when I was a kid growing up in the Bronx.
It also intrinsically involves my mother, Bella.
I don't recall if I mentioned this previously, but perfect casting if someone were to make a movie about Bella would be Estelle Harris, the brilliantly funny actress who played George Costanza's mother on Seinfeld.
The spitting image, in every detail.
Looks, voice, character, everything.
Estelle appeared in my first play in Los Angeles in the late 80's, before anyone knew who she was.
Many members of my family attended opening night of this highly autobiographical play.
When Estelle made her entrance and began speaking, my family members were absolutely stunned.
Bella had died about five years previously, and it was as if Estelle had brought her back to life.
So as I relate this story, it helps if you picture Estelle Harris as Bella.
As I mentioned previously, Bella had this attitude about "Immies", particularly the Freitags. Particularly Tamara, Mrs. Freitag.
But it also extended to their son, David.
David, as I mentioned, was one of my closest friends.
Mainly because I found him to be very good natured, and extremely funny.
But Bella, for no apparent reason at the time, except for the fact that he descended from "Immies", considered him a bad influence on me.
As even the best of friends do, David and I got mad at each other for some insignificant reason that I can't even remember.
We were at least momentarily on the outs with each other.
During this very brief period, a note was slipped under our apartment door.
It read "Tomorrow, your house will be bomed"
That was the spelling.
B-O-M-E-D.
And immediately, based on absolutely nothing, save "Immie-Mistrust", my mother suspected David of placing that note under our door.
Now I had gotten into lots of fights with other friends of mine, and I'm sure if I was on the outs with any of them, my mother wouldn't have jumped to a similar conclusion.
And there were certainly more than a handful of genuine Anti-Semites who lived in our building who who easily more likely suspects.
I know this because I remember when the Rabbi from my Hebrew School sent us all out to sell raffle tickets for the upkeep of the shul to people in our building, only for me to be met more than once with "Get away from me, you dirty Jew"
That put an end to my Door-To-Door salesman career.
I told the Rabbi as much.
It was like talking to a wall.
But I stuck to my retirement guns.
Also, David was far from illiterate, much less a bad speller.
It just didn't make any overt sense that he was the culprit.
But this didn't stop my prejudiced, lunatic mother from trying to prove David's guilt in the matter.
She approached it much in the same way that Captain Queeg tried hanging the Caine Mutiny on the theft of the strawberries.
With Geometric Logic.
She decided to ostensibly "Patch things up" between David and me by having us sit down together and write out "Peace Treaties" that my mother would dictate.
Yes, Peace Treaties.
I'm paraphrasing, but here's the gist:
"I promise that we will never fight with each other about anything ever again.
And that we will be brothers under the skin. Always together.
Through thick and through thin.
We will always remain together.
Even if we were in one of our houses and it was BOMBED, we would man the fortress together..."
Pretty subtle, hah?
So this whole charade, right out of a bad episode of "I Love Lucy", was designed to prove that David would misspell the word "Bombed".
But of course, he didn't.
It failed.
Just like Captain Queeg.
In Philip Roth's "Portnoy's Complaint", one of Alexander Portnoy's complaints to his psychiatrist is that he was raised by Hottentots
and Zulus.
I think I should be joining Portnoy on the couch.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My book, "Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store, You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
The website "On Screen & Beyond" has two hours of an interview I did on it's podcast in their archives.
Just Google On Screen & Beyond to find them if you're interested.
******
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About Me
- mark rothman
- Hi. I am, according to my Wikipedia entry,(which I did not create) a noted television writer, playwright, screenwriter, and occasional actor. You can Google me or go to the IMDB to get my credits, and you can come here to get my opinions on things, which I'll try to express eloquently. Hopefully I'll succeed. You can also e-mail me at macchus999@aol.com. Perhaps my biggest claim to fame is being responsible, for about six months in 1975, while Head Writer for the "Happy Days" TV series, for Americans saying to each other "Sit on it."