"Cleaning House" - The Captain and the Kids (1938)

Here we go again with the Captain and the Kids. This time the whole family gets in on the action as Mama tries to get the house cleaned up a bit. If she’s expecting any sincere help from either the Captain or the Kids, she’s going to be sorely disappointed.

As the children fool around and try to convince Mama that they are the two little angels she thinks they are, the Captain is busy trying to do as little work as possible. This proves to be harder than “factually” working, and when faced with the 2 choices; working or faking it; he decides to fake a heart attack instead. Mama is beside herself with concern, but the boys are wise to the Captains trick.

Dr. Quack; from Dr. Quack and Stork; is summoned and turns out to be an imitation of W.C. Fields along with a little mannequin who is unmistakably Charlie McCarthy. That’s what I like about these old cartoons; they take license to poke fun at other entertainers of the time. And guess what? Nobody sued one another over it. There was still a sense of humor in the entertainment world.

Anyway, Dr. Quack hurries over and Dr. Stork follows with a Bundle of Joy, thinking a baby is coming. Mama slams the door in Dr. Stork’s face- she doesn't want any more kids, thank you. Meantime the boys have gotten the Captain into bed just in time for Dr. Quack to check him out. What follows is a series of antics all designed to get the Captain to admit his slacking and beg for relief from Dr. Quack.

Dr. Stork gets past Mama and delivers the baby; who turns out to be the Charlie McCarthy mannequin; the Captain is horrified that he has had a child. He confesses all to Mama and she puts him to work doing everyone’s chores. The boys never do get “found out” in this one. The cartoon closes out with everyone but the Captain eating dinner to the strains of “There’s No Place Like Home.”

Cab Calloway - "Minnie the Moocher" (1931)

One of the greatest bandleaders of all time, Cabell “Cab” Calloway III was born on Christmas Day 1907 in Rochester, New York. It was a fitting day for him to have been born;  a day when people exchange presents; for with his inimitable style he has left us all the gift of his music.

One of his best known numbers is the rousing “Minnie the Moocher”, which is really a variation on the old “call and response” songs which were popular with African-Americans as far back as the days of slavery, when the music was used to accomplish work in unison. It was also a hallmark of early African-American Christianity. In the rural churches which sprang up in the black community after the Civil War, there was often a shortage of hymnals and prayer books. The preacher would say, or sing, a line from a prayer, or hymn, and the congregation would answer back in kind.

“Minnie the Moocher” is an example of how gospel influences would spill over into popular music, much as it did again later with the advent of rock and roll. The lyrics are said to be based on “Willie the Weeper”, while the melody is based on “St. James Infirmary”, a blues standard of the era.

This version of the song was performed on television in the early 1950’s. There are older, and even better, versions of this song on You Tube, but for some reason blogspot will not accommodate their download. And while you’re googlin’ around, don’t forget to look at “Reefer Man” by Cab Calloway and His Harlem Maniacs. This was one of the best scenes in the 1933 film “International House” with W.C. Fields. Never mind, here it is;

Happy Anniversary Rooftop Reviews!

Today marks the beginning of the 4th year for Rooftop Reviews. It sounds so much more established to say it that way, rather than this is our 3rd Anniversary. At first I began with 1 post per week, reviewing whatever book I had read during the past 7 days. From there I began to add little posts about what I was doing, then a poem here and there, and before long I was posting on a daily basis. From July through November of 2009 I even posted a 30 chapter mini autobiography which spans the years between when I was born and the birth of my daughter Sarah in 1987. I need to go back and correct some spelling (this was before I used spell check)as well as re-scan some of the photos. But, all in all, it was a worthwhile endeavor, and with one, or maybe two exceptions, it was well received.

I began the blog as a way of leaving something of myself for my children and grandchildren. They only ever get to know you as a parent, or grandparent, so I thought it would be nice for them to have some way of seeing me in a different light. I hope that someday they will read it. And, of course, I hope that they will like the person they meet in those pages.

I constructed the site so that it would give the reader 7 posts per hit to choose from. I had to learn how to scan photos and book covers, not a hard thing to do, but to a dinosaur such as myself, these were major achievements. Then I learned that I could "embed" clips from You Tube in my posts, which lent a whole new dimension to the blog; Music.

I am sometimes asked what my favorite book is, and people are surprised when I answer "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn". Since most of my posts on books are about non-fiction, I can easily understand the surprise. In non-fiction I would have to say that one of my favorite books is Merle Miller's superb oral autobiography of Harry Truman, "Plain Speaking". Within those pages are the answers to most of the questions we all have about American history, as well as our role in the world post World War Two. As a matter of fact, one of my favorite quotes comes from that book. Dean Acheson, Secretary of State under President Truman, once said, "I incline to go along with Winston Churchill, who said that among the deficiencies of hindsight is that while we know the consequences of what was done, we do not know the consequences of some other course that was not followed."

Two of my biggest surprises have been an e-mail from Olivia De Havilland, and a note, sent "snail-mail" by Ernest Borgnine, almost two years after I reviewed his book "Ernie". That note hangs on my wall. There have been many authors who have graciously answered e-mails, and even more astonishing to me have been the unsolicited notes from other authors that I have written about.

Another unexpected surprise for me is that I now find myself cited as a source in certain articles as I browse the internet. I will look up something on the Civil War, for instance, and while reading think, "this sounds a bit familiar", and then find that the author of that article has cited me as a reference. At first I was a bit taken aback; after all, I am only an armchair historian at best; but I do have to say that in 3 years there have only been about 3 factual mistakes in my posts. I'm a bit proud of that, considering my level of formal education.

I try to do a mix each week of movie reviews, at least one book, something historical and something musical. Occasionally I have been known to go off on a political subject, but I try to keep that down to a minimum, as there is already enough noise out there without my adding to the overall cacophony of differing opinions.

By far the most satisfying of things to happen with this blog is becoming friends with the irrepressible Eddie Ray, who heads the North Carolina Music Hall of Fame, located in Kannapolis, North Carolina, about 18 minutes from my home. Our age difference notwithstanding, a mutual love of music and poetry; along with a respect for one another; has forged a lasting friendship. He is, quite simply put, a remarkable person.

And of course, there is my wife Sue to thank; she listens to all my posts as I read them aloud for clarity and errors. That can't be an easy task, but she endures it all the same. Also, thanks to all of you who drop in here regularly, you know who you are, and the 17 brave souls who have actually posted as "members". By the way, I have tried to get in touch with several of you over the past couple of years, but I simply cannot make the thing work out. I always end up by joining my own site! As a matter of fact, one of the 17 "members" is me. I just can't figure out how to get it down! A dinosaur in the digital age am I…

It also amazes me that Rooftop Reviews is read in 89 different languages and 59 countries each day. With an average daily circulation of about 250 "hits", this is hardly going viral, but I am still in awe of the reach of this simple blog.

Please don't forget that almost all of my books and videos come from the local libraries in the Town of Mooresville, and the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Public Libraries. Both of these institutions allow me to use their services for free, although I do not reside in either Mooresville, or Mecklenburg County. These pages would be barren without them.

But most of all, and by far the most wonderful part of this blog has been in getting to know myself a bit more. With each book I read, song I hear, or movie I watch, I discover another piece of who I am. So, you might say that, this blog, along with myself, are both works in progress.

W.C. Fields - American Icon of Humor

I was reading a book about comedy and came upon a chapter concerning William Claude Dukinfield, which was so filled with errors that I had to put the book down. Instead, I will share with you a poem and story from W.C. Fields himself, both of which capture the spirit of the man and his humor.

This poem was written by Fields sometime in the 1930's;

"The Martini" by William Claude Dukinfield

There is something about a martini
A tingle remarkably pleasant.
A yellow, a mellow - martini.
I wish I had one at present.

There is something about an Old Fashioned
that kindles a cardiac glow.
It's soothing and soft and impassioned,
As a lyric by Swinburne, or Poe.

In 1938 when Joe Louis knocked out the German boxer Max Schmeling, Fields placed the cause of Joe Louis' victory squarely in the lap of drinking;

"It simply bears out what I have always contended", he said. "A kidney needs a good alcoholic lining to stand up under wear and tear. Schmeling was a victim of clean living. If Louis, or any other professional slasher, dealt me such a blow, their hands would crumple from the impact. As a result of long and serious drinking, I've developed ripples of muscles over my kidneys. I will live to be one hundred and twelve years old, and perhaps a fortnight longer than that, and I deserve it because I've gone out of my way to live the wrong way. Some of my best friends are bartenders, but most of them die young. Seems they can dish it out, but they can't take it."