Sophie Feldman - AKA Totie Fields

Totie Fields (1930-1978) was a groundbreaking comedienne in the 1960’s. She took a page from Phyllis Diller and turned it into a full length persona. At a time when “thin was in” she was unafraid to poke fun at herself- and in doing so made us all more comfortable with ourselves and our own shortcomings.

Born Sophie Feldman in Hartford, Connecticut in 1930, she began her career as a singer in local nightclubs around Boston. She was still in High School at the time. As her popularity rose she changed her name to Totie, which was a childhood nickname, and changed her last name to Fields.

In New York she began doing the nightclub circuit. With her combination of singing and comedy she caught the eye of Ed Sullivan one evening at the Copacabana. Her first big break would come on his show. Soon she was performing on all the talk shows such as Mike Douglas, Merv Griffin and on The Tonight Show as well. She was everywhere, including the Brighton Beach Swimclub where I saw her in 1965. She was dressed in a wildly patterned shift dress that would have been the envy of "Mama Cass."

Her struggles with her weight were a big part of her act. In 1976 she was diagnosed with a blood clot and her left leg was amputated above the knee. This brought a new meaning to the phrase “break a leg” and she soldiered on, if only briefly, before her next health crisis. She did a one woman show in 1977, unheard of at the time, and opened the show in her wheelchair.

Suffering 2 heart attacks and breast cancer, she kept performing, using her infirmities as part of her act. In 1978 she was voted “Entertainer of the Year” and "Female Comedy Star of the Year” by the American Guild of Variety Artists. The honors came just in time.

In August of 1978 she was appearing at the Sahara Hotel in Las Vegas when she suffered a fatal pulmonary embolism. Originally buried in Las Vegas she was later moved to Los Angeles and buried beside her husband who passed away in 1995.

But she's still around- you can bring her up on You Tube anytime you like. She's still funny and in some ways; particularly in issues about body image; more relevant than ever.

The Jerry Lewis Telethon - 1964

This was posted in 2010 during the Labor Day Weekend, which has always made me think of Jerry Lewis and his Telethon for Muscular Dystrophy. I’m probably not alone in this, as most of us baby boomers were raised with the TV on and our families tuning in to the show; if only to see how much money was coming in.

So, this is my memory of the telethon’s history and the tear my family actually participated; collected money and brought it to the hotel in Manhattan where the telethon was being held. It was pretty exciting stuff to a 10 year old.

I remember when the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon was a local, one station affair broadcast from the Americana Hotel in New York City. This year is being touted as the 45th Annual Telethon, but I can tell you that this is incorrect.

The telethon began in 1956, with Jerry Lewis and his partner, Dean Martin, hosting a show on WNEW-TV in New York. They raised $600,000 to benefit the newly found Muscular Dystrophy Association of America. Again in 1957 and 1959, Jerry did two more shows, which he began calling “telethons.” These were the days when TV actually went off the air at about 1 or 2 in the morning, so the telethon was a huge event. I remember getting up in the middle of the night to see if it was really still on! And upon waking in the morning it was the first thing I checked.

Another aspect of those early telethons, which I found fascinating, was that at night pledges came in from faraway places such as Connecticut and even Philadelphia! The TV signal during the daylight hours was very short range, but at night I could pick up Channel 3 in Philadelphia. I suppose they had discovered the same thing about signals from New York.

When I was 10; and this would be 1964; my parents, along with my brother and I, collected for MDA and then went to the Americana to join in the long line waiting to dump their donations in the big carts that were set up inside the hotel hallway on the ground floor. I believe it was just outside the doors to the space that was being used for the Telethon. The 1966 Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon was the first to be held on Labor Day weekend and the first to raise more than $1 million.

The Telethon has grown larger over the years. I believe the 1966 date for today's so-called 45th Telethon represents the date of the first broadcast from New York that was linked to other cities, like Philadelphia. Eventually the Telethon left WNEW in New York for WOR-TV and then finally moved to Las Vegas. But nothing will ever compare to the close knit feeling of those first few years when one little station in New York gave birth to this annual event.

Paul Revere and the Raiders - (1967)

Today is the 239th anniversary of Paul Revere’s famous midnight ride. It is one of the first American history lessons I ever recall hearing. I must have been in Kindergarten at the time. Mrs. Gerber; with seamed stockings; was my teacher and she read the poem to the class. We were enthralled. And I’ve never forgotten her seamed stockings – or the poem.

Of course, that’s not Paul Revere, or even Longfellow above; that’s Mark Lindsay with Paul Revere and the Raiders doing a medley of their hits “Mr. Sun”, “Out on Road”, and “Kicks.” I have included them for the sake of diversity. 

Following is a short paragraph about Mr. Longfellow and his famous poem; followed by the poem itself. At the end I have included an eye witness account of that day at Lexington and Concord by Sylvanus Wood, who was 23 years old at the time.

In April of 1860 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow climbed the tower of the Old North Church and was inspired to write his simplified version of the nights' events. It was first published in The Atlantic Monthly in January of 1861. It has since acquired legendary stature and has served as the inspiration for millions of Americans to learn more about the events of that night. I reprint it here with great pleasure and as a tribute to those men who gathered at Lexington that morning to begin the labor pains that ultimately gave birth to our Nation.

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere

Listen my children and you shall hear

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;

Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march

By land or sea from the town to-night,

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch

Of the North Church tower as a signal light,

One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,

Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex village and farm,

For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar

Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,

Just as the moon rose over the bay,

Where swinging wide at her moorings lay

The Somerset, British man-of-war;

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,

And a huge black hulk, that was magnified

By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street

Wanders and watches, with eager ears,

Till in the silence around him he hears

The muster of men at the barrack door,

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,

And the measured tread of the grenadiers,

Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,

By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,

To the belfry chamber overhead,

And startled the pigeons from their perch

On the sombre rafters, that round him made

Masses and moving shapes of shade,

By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,

To the highest window in the wall,

Where he paused to listen and look down

A moment on the roofs of the town

And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,

In their night encampment on the hill,

Wrapped in silence so deep and still

That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,

The watchful night-wind, as it went

Creeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"

A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread

Of the lonely belfry and the dead;

For suddenly all his thoughts are bent

On a shadowy something far away,

Where the river widens to meet the bay,

A line of black that bends and floats

On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,

Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride

On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.

Now he patted his horse's side,

Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,

And turned and tightened his saddle girth;

But mostly he watched with eager search

The belfry tower of the Old North Church,

As it rose above the graves on the hill,

Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.

And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!

He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight

A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark

Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,

The fate of a nation was riding that night;

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,

Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,

And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,

Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;

And under the alders that skirt its edge,

Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,

Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock

When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.

He heard the crowing of the cock,

And the barking of the farmer's dog,

And felt the damp of the river fog,

That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,

When he galloped into Lexington.

He saw the gilded weathercock

Swim in the moonlight as he passed,

And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,

Gaze at him with a spectral glare,

As if they already stood aghast

At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,

When he came to the bridge in Concord town.

He heard the bleating of the flock,

And the twitter of birds among the trees,

And felt the breath of the morning breeze

Blowing over the meadow brown.

And one was safe and asleep in his bed

Who at the bridge would be first to fall,

Who that day would be lying dead,

Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read

How the British Regulars fired and fled,

How the farmers gave them ball for ball,

From behind each fence and farmyard wall,

Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge again

Under the trees at the turn of the road,

And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;

And so through the night went his cry of alarm

To every Middlesex village and farm,

A cry of defiance, and not of fear,

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,

And a word that shall echo for evermore!

For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,

In the hour of darkness and peril and need,

The people will waken and listen to hear

The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

The following is an eyewitness account of that day by Sylvanus Wood, who wrote the following in 1828. He was born in 1752 and was 23 at the time of the actual events. This statement was sworn before a Notary.

 "I, Sylvanus Wood, of Woburn, in the county of Middlesex, and commonwealth of Massachusetts, aged seventy-four years, do testify and say that on the morning of the 19th of April, 1775, I was an inhabitant of Woburn, living with Deacon Obadiah Kendall; that about an hour before the break of day on said morning, I heard the Lexington bell ring, and fearing there was difficulty there, I immediately arose, took my gun and, with Robert Douglass, went in haste to Lexington, which was about three miles distant.

When I arrived there, I inquired of Captain Parker, the commander of the Lexington company, what was the news. Parker told me he did not know what to believe, for a man had come up about half an hour before and informed him that the British troops were not on the road. But while we were talking, a messenger came up and told the captain that the British troops were within half a mile. Parker immediately turned to his drummer, William Diman, and ordered him to beat to arms, which was done. Captain Parker then asked me if I would parade with his company. I told him I would. Parker then asked me if the young man with me would parade. I spoke to Douglass, and he said he would follow the captain and me.

By this time many of the company had gathered around the captain at the hearing of the drum, where we stood, which was about half way between the meetinghouse and Buckman's tavern. Parker says to his men, 'Every man of you, who is equipped, follow me; and those of you who are not equipped, go into the meeting-house and furnish yourselves from the magazine, and immediately join the company.' Parker led those of us who were equipped to the north end of Lexington Common, near the Bedford Road, and formed us in single file. I was stationed about in the centre of the company. While we were standing, I left my place and went from one end of the company to the other and counted every man who was paraded, and the whole number was thirty-eight, and no more.

Confrontation at Lexington Green

Just as I had finished and got back to my place, I perceived the British troops had arrived on the spot between the meeting-house and Bucknian's, near where Captain Parker stood when he first led off his men. The British troops immediately wheeled so as to cut off those who had gone into the meeting-house. The British troops approached us rapidly in platoons, with a general officer on horseback at their head. The officer came up to within about two rods of the centre of the company, where I stood, the first platoon being about three rods distant. They there halted. The officer then swung his sword, and said, 'Lay down your arms, you damned rebels, or you are all dead men. Fire!' Some guns were fired by the British at us from the first platoon, but no person was killed or hurt, being probably charged only with powder.

Just at this time, Captain Parker ordered every man to take care of himself. The company immediately dispersed; and while the company was dispersing and leaping over the wall, the second platoon of the British fired and killed some of our men. There was not a gun fired by anv of Captain Parker's company, within my knowledge. I was so situated that I must have known it, had any thing of the kind taken place before a total dispersion of our company. I have been intimately acquainted with the inhabitants of Lexington, and particularly with those of Captain Parker's company, and, with one exception, I have never heard any of them say or pretend that there was any firing at the British from Parker's company, or any individual in it until within a year or two. One member of the company told me, many years since, that, after Parker's company had dispersed, and he was at some distance, he gave them 'the guts of his gun.'"

The Grand Old Opry - April 28, 1956

Whenever I walk along the streets in Mooresville, N.C., which is about 18 minutes from my house, I think of what the town must have been like before Interstate 77 came through several miles to the west of town, in the early 1960’s, when Duke Power created Lake Norman to serve it’s dam on the Catawba River, which in turn would become part of the nuclear power plant that sits adjacent to it. That dam is located about 11 miles to the South, in Huntersville.

Mooresville has had a renaissance in the past decade or so, with new boutiques and shops opening on Main Street, revitalizing the area. Mooresville was primarily an agricultural town, growing corn, cotton and other crops which were shipped by the railroad which bisects the town from North to South. So, naturally, when I think of Mooresville in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s, I see a vibrant town with dances on Saturday nights, and train whistles cutting through the sound of the music and laughter.

Sundays were mainly “church” days, with some picnics thrown in and a lot of visiting friends and relatives. Contrasted with Brooklyn, New York where I was raised, I find myself often wishing I could go back for just one night to those years and experience the flavor of the town as it once was.

But, for better or for worse, my memories are all based in the city, so I can only imagine what I missed. They say “even a fool can despise what he cannot get”, but I don’t despise what I missed at all. I hunger for it. And that hunger; as it often does; takes me to You Tube where I can get a glimpse of what life was like outside of New York City and the Ed Sullivan Show.

The Grand Old Opry is still alive and kicking today, pumping out so called country music, which is really just a blend of 1960’s rock/pop music. The acts you see here from the Grand Old Opry in April, 1956, represent the real American entertainment of the time. This show, and others like it, were what the rest of the country were watching while we were watching the more “sophisticated” variety shows which aired from New York and even the stuff coming out of Los Angeles at the time. They are also emblematic of all the good things I missed. Chet Atkins and June Carter both perform, and the commercials are live, touting the benefits of farm products rather than aftershave lotions. Man, I wish I could back for just one night...

"The Ed Sullivan Show" - Live (1961)

Just kick back and watch this complete Ed Sullivan show from 1961. It’s what most families did on a Sunday night back then. Back then Friday nights were for flirting, Saturday nights were for dating, and Sunday nights were for the Ed Sullivan Show. Each week for 3 decades, Mr. Sullivan, a former newspaper columnist, showed that he had his fingers on the entertainment pulse of America. An invitation to perform on his show could make or break an act in the space of just a few minutes.

Usually broadcast live from New York City, this episode is a bit different, as it is live from Las Vegas. In the years ahead Ed Sullivan would also broadcast an occasional show from Miami, as he did when the Beatles made their second US appearance on his show in 1964.

In this show, Ed brings out the usual variety of acts, consisting of comedian Jerry Lewis, some dancers, Phil Harris, and even the standard introduction of a celebrity in the audience. The sun in Vegas must have done him some good, as even in this old black and white tape you can see that the usually pallid Mr. Sullivan has been spending some time by the pool.

Shows like this don’t exist anymore. We all have our little niches of satellite radio and cable TV to filter out the things in which we are not interested. It’s convenient, but it narrows our scope and tolerance for things that may be a bit different from what we like personally, drawing us all a bit further apart in the process. As the old saying goes, “They just don’t make them like they used to.” And we are the less for that loss.

The Andy Griffith Show - "Opie the Birdman" (1963)

All the Andy Griffith shows are like treasures to me. They harken back to a simpler time, when there were lines not to be crossed. Though things were far from perfect in many respects, sometimes it’s still easy to long for the sepia toned days of our not too distant past. But the entire myriad of social issues aside, there was more of a civility in the air of the times. Even the struggles for Civil Rights were tangible evidence that, for the most part, people were at least trying to get in touch with their “better angels.” Contrasted with today’s sharply divided nation, those times were less complex, and we could at least imagine a way forward.

This first episode from the 1963 season of “The Andy Griffith Show” addresses responsibility, a word which is rapidly disappearing from our vocabulary. After getting a slingshot; which was every young man’s dream back in the “old days”; Opie is at first content with shooting tin cans and other inanimate objects. But soon he sets his sights on a bird in the tree in front of his house, and without thinking about the consequences of his action, kills it. He is heartbroken and filled with guilt and shame. The chirping of the baby birds; who are unable to fly yet; as they await the return of their mother to feed them, eats away at him.

Andy; in his usual calm way; let’s the boy feel the pain he has caused and makes him provide for the baby birds until they can fly on their own. When the time comes to let them go, Opie has learned several lessons from his transgression. Beginning at the 19 minute mark, Andy explains to Opie about letting go. And that’s something we all have to learn how to do at some point.

The Blues Mcgoos - Kraft Music Hall (1967)

The Blues Magoos are one of those bands that receive very little credit for the hard musical turn that rock and roll took in the late 1960’s. Hailing from the Bronx amid the British Invasion, you had to have something more potent than just Dion and the Belmonts, as the "times, they were a changin’.”

I’m in the middle of reading Pete Townshend’s autobiography, and in it he recounts the beginnings of the acid-rock scene in London about 1966. He was introduced to Ron Gilbert and Ralph Scala; two members of the Blues Magoos;  and  who were also  interested in the extraterrestrial conspiracy theories of George Adamski, who is considered to be the first human being contacted by aliens from another universe. That event happened on November 20, 1952. It was an incredible claim for the time; and still would be today. That event made him famous but also drew the ire of the military and corporate world, both of which went out of their way to heap ridicule upon him in an attempt to discredit his claims. His works are still studied by UFO enthusiasts today.

At the same time as this, Pete Townshend was also reading “The God Man”, a landmark book by British author Charles Purdom; which chronicles the life of Meher Baba; a Hindu mystic who passed away in 1969. He claimed to be a direct descendant of one of the Supreme Deities, and amassed quite a following during the 1940’s and on through his death in 1969. He believed that man is part God, and was also very opposed to the use of psychedelic drugs as a means to expand the mind.

While all of this may seem to be a bit rambling and unconnected to the video above; it’s not. The 1960’s was a very turbulent decade, one in which people all over the world were exploring their intellectual limits. Some called it expanding their minds, while some just tuned in, turned on and dropped out; and still others went on to achieve a self-satisfaction and inner peace unattainable through ordinary means. For some that meant drugs; and for others it meant spiritualism.

I suppose the only relation that all of this does have to the video concerns the conversation between Jack Benny and the band at the end of their wildly lit rendition of “Tobacco Road.” While it may seem as if the band is putting Mr. Benny on concerning the fusion of light and sound, they were deadly serious. All over the world people were looking at new ways to create the sounds of a new age. More about that in next weeks review of Pete Townshend's autobiography, which brought my attention to the Blues Mcgoos as an influential rock band. Until now I had always considered them merely average, so perhaps, along with Jack Benny, I just didn't "get" it either! 

The Black Box and George Orwell

About 4 years ago Sue and I disconnected from cable TV; our remotes were almost worn out from constant clicking in search of something worthwhile to watch. Think about it; you sit down in front of the television, remote in hand, confident that there is something of interest on at least one of the 150 channels available to you. So, you start clicking away; like a kid at the beach, searching for that one perfect seashell; only to find that they are all unsatisfactory in one way or the other. So, you are left empty handed.

Now I don’t know about you, but we have a TV that is as flat as Twiggy was in 1967; and at the same time; high tech. In other words this means that I have a flat screen 50” television that asks me to “Please Be Patient” when I turn it on, as well as pauses while it locks onto the state of the art digital signal which is supposed to make me feel like I am part of the show. But, with each click taking about 30 seconds to produce an image on the screen, I can click through all 150 stations at the rate of one every 30 seconds, or two per minute. Divide the 150 channels by 2 per minute and that means it takes 75 minutes to cycle through them all, unless I find something that interests me. And to accomplish this feat, I need to add about 30 seconds to each station I land on while ascertaining whether or not I want to remain there. So that makes a total of I minute per station, divided by none, which equals 2 and a half hours to check out all the stations. Phew!! Sounds like work to me.

So, we cut the cable. It was like cutting an umbilical cord, in some ways giving us a bit more leisure time in our leisure time. Of course we had to get one of those “converter” boxes which the government was originally supplying to everyone for free with a voucher. This kind of had me scratching my head a bit, as the government had never before concerned itself with the change from Hi-Fi to stereo; or even helped us out with the switch from vinyl recordings to 8 tracks to cassettes to CD’s and MP3 players. I had to ask myself, “Why the deadline to convert all the TV’s? And why does my government want to give me something that I didn’t need until they made it necessary?” These are two valid questions.

I read a lot, so I always go back in my mind to something I may have read which applies to the situation at hand. It didn’t take me too long to figure it out. The box is a two way system, allowing me to intercept what is broadcast, but also a camera and audio device for Big Brother to look into my living room. Remember George Orwell’s “1984”? Kind of like that, only with better programs.

I know, you’re laughing at me. But all the same, each time I pass the box, I wave and say hello.

Odetta and Tennessee Ernie Ford - Live

It’s not too often that I write about the same artist, or any subject, two days in a row. But while looking at videos of Tennessee Ernie Ford for yesterday’s post reviewing “River of No Return” by Jeffrey Buckner Ford, I ran across this video of Odetta performing on the Tennessee Ernie Ford Show sometime in the 1950’s. It’s so good that I did not want it to get “lost” in the review. So, I decided to wait and post it separately, which also gives me a kind of day off.

Tennessee Ernie Ford was pigeon holed as a performer, and is remembered largely for his pea-picking songs, and of course “16 Tons.” But the man literally knew no bounds, and was equally comfortable in all genres, from jazz, blues and pop, to classical music. In 1960 he even did a half hour version of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Mikado” on TV, giving me my first taste of “musicals.”

In this film from his show, Mr. Ford sits down with the legendary Odetta, and together they perform Merle Travis’ “Nine Pound Hammer”, and Woody Guthrie’s “Pastures of Plenty”. Early television was filled with moments of uncertainty, error, and sometimes pure brilliance. This performance was one of the latter.

"River Of No Return" by Jeffrey Buckner Ford (2008)

When I was 1 year old Tennessee Ernie Ford hit it really big with his recording “Sixteen Ton”. Consequently I don’t remember a time when that song wasn’t around, either on TV, or radio. And you still hear the song today, being played on “oldies” stations, as well as classic country ones. And it’s a great song. But, aside from that song, just who was Tennessee Ernie Ford? (As a child of 4, I thought it odd that he was named after a state and a car.)

In “River of No Return”, Jeffrey Buckner Ford, son of the iconic entertainer, not only answers the question of who his father was, but also explores just how he came to be who he was. A man who seemingly had it all; from his good looks, wartime service, and his eventual marriage to Betty Jean Heminger, whom he met while in training to fly B-29’s; he was blessed at every turn with sucess.  As luck would have it, the war ended just as he was about to head for the Pacific.

The book is also a history of the music industry in the days after World War Two and the impact which television had on the industry. So much of what went on the air was live, and improvised. "16 Tons" was originally recorded in 1949 by Merle Travis for a folk music anthology. The song was risky to record, as it was pro-union in the early days of McCarthyism. The finger snapping, which Mr. Ford did before all his recordings, was left on by accident. As a matter of fact, the song was supposed to be the "B" side of "You Don't Have to Be a Baby to Cry." It sold 400,000 copies in 11 days!

Although mainly known as a gospel singer, Tennessee Ernie Ford was much more. His sessions with Kay Starr in 1950 and 1951 produced several gems. He also recorded with Betty Hutton, resulting in  the iconic "River of No Return", which became the title song for the Robert Mitchum/Marilyn Monroe film of the same name.

In addition to the musical history behind his Dad's career, Mr. Ford also tells the story behind the veneer of his parent’s marriage, which looked picture perfect to the 30 million people who tuned into his TV show weekly between 1956 and 1961.  I say “veneer” rather than “façade” to note the fact that these two people loved one other very much. But the rising star of Tennessee Ford’s career eclipsed the talent which his wife possessed as a painter, bringing a strain to that love.

With unflinching honesty, Jeffrey Ford writes of the struggle his father endured with alcohol, and how that struggle affected those whom the elder Mr. Ford loved the most. And when he is finished telling the history of that portion of his life, the younger Mr. Ford talks of his own journey to discover what is important in life beyond the fame and fortune which beckon us daily.

Written with great warmth for his parents; and a proper amount of disdain for his father’s second wife; Jeffrey Ford had done the seemingly impossible. He has written an account of his father’s career, his parent’s family history and marriage, and the demons that constantly lurked on the perimeter. That he has done so without rancor, and without disrespect to the memories which his father left us, is a credit to his spirit, and a testimony to his ability as a writer.

"Boardwalk Empire" with Steve Buscemi (2012)

On the eve of Prohibition becoming the law of the land, Atlantic City County Treasurer Enoch “Nucky” Thompson, played by Steve Buscemi, is about to make a lot of money. He already controls everything else in town, from prostitution to gambling, so why not get in on Prohibition from the very start?  With his brother as a State Trooper and the rest of the Boardwalk beholden to him for all manner of “favors” he has done them in the past, you would think that “Nucky’s” life would be one free from trouble. But trouble seems to stalk him, turning some of his most cherished dreams into a living nightmare of deceit and confusion as he struggles with fellow politicians, as well as criminal rivals, such as Al Capone, Lucky Luciano and Arnold Rothstein.

Set in the hotels along the famed Boardwalk of Atlantic City, this series takes you inside the brothels and jazz joints that then flourished under Prohibition. There is also the story of “Nucky’s” past, and his childhood with a drunken firefighter for a father. That past plays a large role in who he is, and just what motivates him emotionally. Surrounded by a cast of characters which will leave your head spinning, and beautiful sets; where every detail is correct for the era; this series is textured and well written.

A relentlessly driven Federal Agent, along with a destitute young woman; who quickly becomes “Nucky’s” lover, as well as his conscience; make the story compelling. It begs the question of what drives people to do what they do, and how hey justify it. Written by Terence Winter and Produced by Martin Scorsese, this is a series which will have you looking forward to each episode.

"Swing Wedding" - MGM (1937)

This is the cartoon which was released by Hugh Harman/Rudolf Ising Productions following their earlier Oscar nominated cartoon “The Old Mill Pond” in 1936. The big difference between that effort and this one is that this cartoon has a story to it.  Among the African-American celebrities pictured here as frogs are Cab Calloway, Ethel Waters, Stepin Fetchit, Louis Armstrong, Fats Waller, Bill Robinson and the Boswell Sisters. If there are any I have missed, let me know.

Some people nowadays will find this cartoon to be politically incorrect. My only response to that is that at the time this cartoon was released most African-Americans were simply glad to be portrayed in cartoons at all, let alone as very talented characters. Imagine going to the movies, week after week; and not only do you have to sit in the balcony; but all the film’s stars were white actors and actresses, with African-Americans playing servants. Followed up by white cartoon characters could leave a black person feeling really left out.

There were some really great African-American films at the time, I have reviewed several here. My favorites are “Cabin In the Sky” and “Stormy Weather”, which showcase both the musical and dramatic talents of the black actors and actresses of the era. I hope that you will enjoy this cartoon for what it is and not for what you may perceive it to be. For me, it is 8 minutes of musical, and visual, delight.

If you are African-American; and over 55 years old; I would love to hear your take on this cartoon. The reason I have chosen this age group is that these would be the people who were at least  about 8 years old at the time of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, as well as the Voting Rights Act of 1965. As such, this group would have lived under some form of segregation. In my mind, this gives them a unique perspective on the subject.  

"Classical Gas" by Mason Williams

This is the original version of the film that was later shown on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in 1968. It differs only slightly from the one that aired. The video was begun as a student film project in late 1967 with the original music to have been Beethoven's 5th Symphony. When Mason Williams, who was then a writer on the show, saw the film, he suggested, and then wrote, the new music for it. After obtaining permission from the films creator, the "Classical Gas" video made its debut on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in July 1968. The recording went on to become one of the bestselling instrumental recordings ever made.

The original video from the show has not been seen since 1968. Legal reasons are the chief culprit. This version was made using the original student film, which was never aired. It has been re-edited to "Classical Gas" and aside from a couple of frames is almost identical to the one shown on the Smothers Brothers Show over 40 years ago.

Note: The original student film, set to the Beethoven piece, was titled "God Is Dog Spelled Backward."