Sandi looked at my new headline banner and said, "The World is a stage? Looks more like the world is a planet." Instead of the quote being, "The world is a stage and everyone in it a player...."it  should in reality be,  "The world is a stage and everyone in it an art CRITIC."

Do Birds retain publishing rights?

The birds have been singing intensely and almost constantly this last week.  I don't know one bird call from another but there is one fledgling that sings a familiar tune. It makes me smile every time I hear it.  It's not a song that has a title.  I'm not sure it is even a song, perhaps more along the lines of a melodic chant.  Without the benefit of audio it is difficult to explain it but here goes.  It is the three note riff that people chant when egging someone on. As in: "Go Rick-ie... Go Rick-ie... Go Rick-ie ..Go Rick-ie".

I tried to work it out on the piano as far as steps of the scale.  First note "Go",  second note is one and a half steps down: "Rick" and third note: "ie" is one full step higher than "Rick" and a half step lower than "Go".  I just read that back and now even *I* am confused.  I guess it is one of those things where "you have to be there."

I worked with a singer at the Horn years ago named Brian Richards.  He wrote some really good songs.  I think of one of his lyrics often, especially when I hear a song bird.

"Bird sings cause he wants to sing, he doesn't get paid to sing, he just sings... the way I sing for you."

 A writer writes because he has to write....doesn't always get paid to write... he just writes... the way I write for you.

As you were,
Jay

The Trendy Tire Tie

This is a blog written several years ago on another website by Jay Johnson

Editor for "The World is a Stage" 
 Walter Helmhurst

At a Lutheran Brotherhood Top Club Sales Meeting where I performed recently I was reminded that this was not the first time I have worked for LB. In 1973 I did a children's fire safety movie entitled "The Friendly Fire-Fly and his Fire Fighter Friend" sponsored by Lutheran Brotherhood. Friendly Firefly was a puppet I created for the movie. I wrote the script but I did not title the film. As a ventriloquist I would never have titled the project with so many F's. To the best of my ventriloquial ability it came out "The Trendly Tire tie and his Tire Tighter Trend."

This is a picture of the Friendly FireFly puppet and poster on display at VentHaven Museum, Ft. Mitchell, KY. They also have a copy of the 16mm print of which is to my knowledge the only one still around.

Updated format for The World is a Stage - Blog.
In the words of noted sociologist Gruber Van Gairdz, "I don't mind change as long as things remain the same." 
Only a few days left to vote in the poll.

 What's Different?-

We have changed to a new format for the Jay Johnson Blog. However it will continue with the same content. It is more difficult to upgrade a writer than a graphic design. If you have feelings either way please vote in the poll on the right.

Editor for "The World is a Stage" - Walter Helmhurst

______________________________________________________

NEW LOOK FOR THE BLOG -

If you have feelings either way please vote in the poll on the right.
Editor for "The World is a Stage" - Walter Helmhurst

Keep staring at this grid...
To some it will look like a checker
cloth draped over a basketball.
For others it will tend make their eyes cross.

NEW LOOK -
Time to redecorate. This is a new format for the Jay Johnson Blog. For those like me who resist change it may be too shocking... However it will continue with the same content. You can dress up a pig but it's still a breakfast meat. This may not be permanent. If you have strong feelings either way send a comment or participate in the poll on the right, and let me know.

Editor for "The World is a Stage" - Walter Helmhurst

Doody

The explanation is difficult.

The word "doody" is not in the dictionary but it is certainly a part of my vocabulary. Is is slang for the word "doo doo", which is in the dictionary. By definition Doo Doo: a noun, is a child's word for excrement used euphemistically in other contexts like, "When the accelerator on your Toyota sticks while driving, you are in deep doo doo."

Euphemistically the word doody bestows the same context of disgust to anything associated with it, in the same deference doo doo does. Anything with doody on it should be avoided, and you would never want doody on anything you come in contact with for many reasons.

There is sometimes confusion over the word "doody" because it is an almost perfect homonym for the word "duty" which is: a moral or legal obligation or responsibility. A duty like a doody is not associated with a pleasant experience. A duty is a task. To make things even more complicated a duty is also a tax. The tax on purchased goods is called a duty. The phrase duty free goods is almost liberating. Duty free, free of tax; and Doody free, free of crap. Once again you never want duty on anything you come in contact with.

Unfortunately, Doody is also the last name of a famous string puppet who was extremely popular on Saturday morning television in the nineteen fifties, Howdy Doody. I watched the show as a kid and I am still a big Howdy Doody fan. Because of this, I have used the word Doody for most of my life. I am certain that no excrement reference was intended when they named the puppet. The word simply rhymed with Howdy. I will admit to using the word doody more often to indicate doo doo than the famous puppet. When use of the word shit is not appropriate doody will work as a polite alternative.

Now there is one occurrence where the words duty and doody are interchangeable in sound meaning and thought. It is found in the phrase Jury Duty - an obligation or responsibility to a jury and Jury Doody, - the shit you have to go through to serve on a jury.

I was on call for jury duty this week and did not want to participate. I had appealed and postponed jury duty as long as I could. As the system is now, nightly one phones in his juror number to see if he must report the next day. Last night I called and the recorded voice of a lady told me that I did not need to come in on Friday and my obligation as a juror was finished.

I was glad because it would have been doo doo to do the dirty doody duty of jury duty.

As you were,
Jay

Missed a Step

Usually I take my Ipod to the gym and program my own sound track to physical exertion. Hint: Mozart is really great for working out. Don't know why but his repetitious phrases and quick tempos seem to be work well with jogging and counting.

Today I forgot and left my Ipod at home. I was defenseless against the human drama that is the Encino fitness club. Suddenly I am aware of everyone around me. I think the same archetypes populate every gym. There is the cougar trying to chase away age with a stair master, the young guy beefing up for the audition, the old lady that can barely pedal the stationary bike, the steroid muscle head that is irritated anyone else is trying to use the free weights. And of course the loud mouth type A personality on his cell phone yelling at a business associate as he punishes the elliptical machine.

Today there was another character added to the cast of usuals. A lady in her 30's, blond with dark cat eye glasses, purple warm-up pants and a white top paced behind the treadmills like a tiger in a cage. The instant the time on the machine next to me read 20 minutes the cat lady was all over the person on that machine to give it up. There is a 20 minute limit on cardio equipment when people are waiting. The cat lady was exacting about that rule, and that is how she ended up on the machine next to me.

At first I thought the display on her treadmill had problems because she knocked on it three times before she began to walk. I say walk but it was actually a deliberate stomping march with swinging bent arm movement making her look almost mechanical. She repeated this movement for 10 seconds, knocked on the face of the machine three times, held on to the handle bar for 10 seconds, knocked on the machine three times again, then repeated the bent arm movement.

She then stopped the treadmill, exited off the back, turned three times to the left, paced behind, knocked three times on the crunch weights and headed back to the treadmill to begin the process all over again. By the third time I had memorized her routine. At first the regimen was an irritation, but at some point I began to anticipate the three knocks and count the seconds between. Her OCD had absolutely infected my own work out. Knock, knock, knock and I would start counting one, Mississippi, two, Mississippi, and at ten Mississippi there would be another three knocks. My own pace had begun to match the rhythm cat lady had established. It was actually serving the same purpose as Mozart.

I was on automatic really forgetting about anything but finishing my work out when I was counting, five Mississippi, and KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. She knocked early. It threw me and I actually tripped, my hand grabbed for the handle bar but I grabbed the towel instead which slid off on the the track where I stepped on it and stumbled off the back.

Lesson learned? Keep my old ipod, the one that doesn't do video in my gym bag with the set of earphones I took from my last plane flight. Never, be without Mozart again at the gym.

At the end of my workout cat lady was knocking on the ab weights preparing to mount the tread mill again. The machines either side of her were empty.... I guess I was the last to know it is dangerous to work out next to cat lady.

As you were,
Jay

Las Vegas

Saturday night was the one year anniversary of the Terry Fator show at the Mirage. Terry was nice enough to invite me and Sandi to attend the celebration and honor this accomplishment. I was thrilled to get the chance. Although I have met Terry and seen small clips of his act, I had never seen his complete show at the Terry Fator Theatre until last Saturday night.

It was a fabulous show. I was completely impressed. It could be one of the best ventriloquist shows I have ever seen. His musical talent and ventriloquism come together in a wonderful performance that can be enjoyed by anyone. He is charming and unassuming and his characters are distinctive. He even premiered a new character to the cast that night. A crash dummy named Wrex who sings car songs and has a German leaning accent. Wrex will become a valued part of the group. It is hard to pick a favorite cast member among the throngs. The ads say a cast of thousands... you have the feeling you have seen many more at the end of the evening.

Note to Terry: Way to go, my friend. As a fellow ventriloquist I am very proud of what you are doing. As a fellow entertainer I am inspired by your abilities. Your technique is virtually flawless and your characters are wonderfully inspired. You have given ventriloquism a legitimate seat at the table of high end legitimate entertainment.

As is the way for Los Angeles residents, the first person I ran into as I got off the elevator at the Mirage in Las Vegas was Fred Willard. Fred lives three or four doors down from me. His schedule and mine hardly ever cross so I rarely see him in the neighborhood. We had a great time and I reconnected with this wife and daughter whom I had met 25 years before in, you guessed it... Las Vegas. Fred's daughter, Hope, remembered I taught her a magic trick back then that she has never forgotten.

The best part of the trip was hanging out with my favorite ventriloquist and friend Jimmy Nelson and his beautiful wife Betty who were also personally invited to the Terry Fator Show. Pre-show we walked the red carpet together and then took pictures with Terry in his dressing room. Dan Horn and Clinton Detweiler were also there to round out the ventriloquist representation. Terry's dressing room is a cross between a fabulous lounge, green room and puppet/memorabilia museum.

After the star studded anniversary show there was a party at BB Kings. Terry sang a very long set with the band on stage at the club. I couldn't believe it. After a fabulous show he had the energy to sing with the band at BB's.

Because it was very loud at the party, Jimmy, Betty, Sandi and I soon opted for a quiet dinner at the Japion Restaurant on the other side of the casino, and sneaked away from the Fator festivities. It will be an evening I can never forget. Jimmy Nelson is a most charming, entertaining and classy man. I know now why I always looked up to him and wanted to be like him. He is matched in wit, humor and charm by his wife Betty Nelson. We traded stories and I picked their memories for jewels of real life happenings. I wish it had all been recorded, but no reproduction would do the evening justice. It is just something that happens. It is a chance to momentarily stop time and be at one with a legend, your hero and mentor. It just doesn't get any better. At times like this I realize how blessed I am to be a ventriloquist and how honored I am to be accepted into that exclusive fraternity.

Thanks for the opportunity and the experience last weekend Terry. Unforgettable.

As you were,
Jay

As quickly as you can...
say the color of each word out loud.
Hint: Yellow is Black

Exaggerators Anonymous

It seems like a 12 step process can be applied to almost any problem. I have a friend who is a chronic exaggerator. He exaggerates all the time and it really gets in the way of any social interaction, because you never know what the truth really is. Most any statistic he quotes is made up.

Online I found an organization called Exaggerators Anonymous with meetings here in the San Fernando Valley. I suggested that my friend check it out. He said he would. I wasn 't sure if that was, yet again, another one of his exaggerations.

I ran into him yesterday. We talked for a minute and finally I got around to asking him if he had started the program. He said no. When I asked him why he told me "I was going to go to Exaggerators Anonymous... but didn't have the time... They must have a thousand meetings a week."

I made that up... it's Friday. I am trying to solve a second act problem.
As you were,
Jay

The Wrong Audience...again...

In New York as I am coming out of my hotel room a housekeeping supervisor with a clip board is finishing the inspection of a room next door. She is very pleasant as we both head to the elevator. She says to me, with business like efficiency, "How did you find your room?"

I say, "Oh, I just turned right at the hallway and there it was on the left." She looked at me with an expression I have come to know all too well when I ply my comic talents in social situations. It was the blank stare of disconnect.

"So, there were enough towels?" she said, in the same business like manner. I knew she didn't get it. Not wanting to make the same mistake I did with the desk clerk on the ship trying to explain Polaroid cameras.... I decided to come clean.

I wait until we are in the elevator and the courtesy silence settles in to say... "You know that was my attempt at a joke... You said how did you find your room and I said I found it right there around the corner on the left.... (Pause) ... how did I *find* my room... (beat)."

In a monotone voice and a dead-pan-Buster Keaton-esque-look she says, "Oh...I see... (thinking it over... but not laughing)... funny."

Without a further word, she got off the elevator at the next floor, . I continued my decent measured in more ways than just floors. By the time I reach the bottom, physically and emotionally, I have applied the comics golden rule in these situations. I convince myself it is not the fault of the joke or the way it was delivered..... it was the wrong audience.

As you were,
Jay

Ventriloquist Documentary

Last week end I attended the showing of "I'm No Dummy" at the New York International Children's Film Festival. The DVD was in some ways a strange choice for the presenters to showcase at a children's film festival. I'm not sure that kids are the ultimate audience for this DVD. Seventy year old black and white footage of Edgar Bergen is not really a video generations fair. But the sold out audience of kids from 8 to 12 seemed to like it a lot. After the screening Lynn Trefzger, Tom Ladshaw and myself took questions and taught a quick workshop on ventriloquism. We participated in a similar event at the Seattle International Film Festival.

The kids questions were not soft balls. I was amazed by the depth of their interest. They really wanted to know the internal workings of the art form rather than just how you say the letter "B" without moving you lips.

Although I have seen various cuts of the film, the version we saw in New York is the final version that will be released on April 6th. It is a little odd to see Jeff Dunham on film talking about how much he enjoys being a ventriloquist and how he hopes it will never fade, since he is currently trying to block the release of the film with a lawsuit.

One judge has already thrown the case out of court with a summary judgement dismissal, but the Dunham team refiled. This version of the same case will probably be thrown out as well, but only after the lawyers have milked it for all they can get. In lawsuits like this it is not a matter of who is right or who is wrong, but who can out spend the other.

I don't understand the issue. Jeff looks really good in the film. He is intelligent, artistic and articulate. He is featured in the interviews and in performance bits. His success and accomplishments are acknowledged and lauded. Seems like he would want some positive image re-enforcement. I just don't get it.

As you were,
Jay

The Mouse that Roared.

Good Deed for the Day

The first of the week I was in Labadee, Haiti. Labadee is a section of the island of Hispaniola that RCCL leases as a tropical paradise for a cruise ship passengers. Is is about 60 miles from the destruction and chaos of Port Au Prince and the devastation of the earthquake.

RCCL has taken some hits lately because tourists are on luxury vacations in Labadee while on the other side of the island the locals are struggling just to survive. I don't say this just because I work for them occasionally, but RCCL is doing much more than people know to help their hosts. First of all the cruise ship industry is the only income for this part of the Island, if the ships stopped coming it would make it even more difficult to recover. The ship provides thousands of dollars weekly to the revenue stream. Other than sunshine the passengers are not taking anything away from the island since the ship provides all the food and water for their guests. There is no negative impact on the people of Haiti as they are building back.

Every day a ship stops by tons of supplies are unloaded.
Ships can carry hundreds of times more supplies than planes. These mega ships even more so. This is a picture I took of the more than five truck loads of supplies the Liberty of The Seas brought and unloaded. Every ship that stops by brings an equal amount of supplies, and as long as a ship is coming there to bring tourists, there is no cost to the Haitian government. The supply shipment is covered by the cost of the vacationers tickets.

So although it may appear to be a case of the wealthy fiddling while Haiti burns, it really is much more complex than that. It really is a win/win situation.

Bravo to my sometimes employer for adding aid and support to their list of daily cruise activities.

As you were,
Jay

"You kids get off my lawn."

When I was checking onto the ship there was a cute girl behind the pursers desk. We struck up a conversation about my show. She said, "Your show must be very good since they've assigned you a suite and not a crew cabin." I bragged that my show was very good but said I also had some "compomising Polaroids of the Captain in my safety deposit box."

She had no reaction except confusion. I immediately realize that, for her, a reference to Polaroid pictures is from Pluto. I haven't used that joke in 30 years and it was probably too old to use at that time.


The girl behind the desk is much to young to know about Polaroid Cameras. I momentarily forget that although I play with dolls that is probably the only thing we have in common. I'm am, after all, more than twice her age.

I tried to explain (comics never give up on a joke or a possible laugh) but it went immediately wrong: "Why....back in my day we had to wait 60 seconds to see a snap shot."

At this point my wife, if she was here, would simply look at me and say "you kids get off my lawn" and I would laugh. That is her signal that I have started sounding like the crazy old man up the street.

There is a phrase Charles R Meeker, Jr. (My first boss and show biz mentor) used to say, and I quote: "there comes a time in a man's life when temptation is easy to resist because it becomes so hard to find."

Time was when I could make a cute girl behind the desk giggle with a joke. Damn, if I will stop trying now. I refuse to believe I am ready to do command performances for the Red Hat Society.

As you were,
Jay

www.monkeyjoke.com

Hey Nineteen

On deck three just outside "On the Air", which is a Kareoke bar on the ship, there are forty or so 8x10 photos of famous singers decorating the wall.

I am looking at these pictures when a Mother, Father and Daughter step between me and the display. I don't know how old the daughter is but she looks nineteen.

Mom is attempting to name all the singers by just looking at their pictures. There are no names to check her accuracy. She identifies Patsy Kline as "some country singer". Diana Ross is identified as Holly Berry, she insists it is Stevie Davis, Jr. who sang "Candy Man" and misses Usher totally, but she is doing fairly well otherwise.


There is a picture of a black lady on the top row. To me it is an easy one but Mom looks at the picture for a moment and says "I don't remember who that is."

I smile on the outside but inside I am laughing uncontrolablly, entertaining myself with a show written, directed and performed for an audience of one.... me. I give this moment the mental equivalent of a standing ovation.

Being a huge fan of Steely Dan's music, I suddenly find myself actually living one of their lyrics. At this moment the perfect thing to say to the young daughter is straight from the song "Hey Nineteen" on the AJA album. Had my friend Rob Dixon been here I could make him fall down with laughter by saying it out loud:

"Hey Nineteen, that's Aretha Franklin, she don't remember the queen of soul".

I suspect Dix and I might be the only ones to find the humor in it, but just because the material is only for a select few does not make it less important.

"She thinks I'm crazy but I'm just growin' old. Hey Nineteen".
AJA- music and lyrics by Donald Fagen and Walter Becker.


As you were,
Jay
www.monkeyjoke.com

Amazing

My world would be science fiction to some one living just a century ago. I am trying to imagine if I could even explain it to a counterpart living in 1910.
My home is in Los Angeles, California but last week I commuted to work on a ship sailing the Caribbean.

It takes me hours to make the trip rather than the weeks or months it would take my counterpart to get there.

I fly in an airplane (larger than a train which, in 1910, is the fastest mode of transportation) The Wright Brothers have only discovered motorized flight a few years before.

The ship I work on is almost double the tonnage and triple the size of the Titanic. (Which won't sail for another two years). It accommodates almost four thousand passengers. Double the number on the Titanic.

If my counterpart were on a ship, in his time, the only form of communication would be a radio telegraph. It would be for official use only and limited in range.
On my ship I pass my time "typing" on a device the size of a deck of cards which I carry in my pocket. Although I could use the same device to speak to anyone in person, I choose to send essays instantly through the air to be published on a paper less delivery system available to people all over the world.
How will my future counterpart be conducting business in 2110? I wish I was imaginative enough to venture a guess. I would write it down and become the next Jules Verne who, by the way, died in 1905.

For now I will just try to entertain them again tomorrow night and get back home.

As you were,
Jay
www.monkeyjoke.com

IN THE INTEREST OF SANITY THIS BLOG HAS BEEN REMOVED BY THE AUTHOR.

If you think of this as a clock,
and trace your eyes around the imaginary numbers
Little white lights will flash in the
middle of the black circles..
Enjoy...



Sea Here

Thumb typing away here on the Solarium deck. We are anchored off the Grand Cayman coast. I am technically cargo until next Tuesday when I do my next set of shows.

One has no perspective of how big this ship is until we dock next to another boat. We dwarf it. Truly is amazing sailing experience until we hit a tender port like Cayman. Getting four thousand people into tender boats, seventy five at a time, is a logistical challenge.

That's all I got.
As you were,
Jay
www.monkeyjoke.com

Lost as Sea

By the time you read this I will be somewhere in the Caribbean. I doesn't matter where. As exciting as it may sound on paper, I have seen this part of the sea many times before. The ports of call are all the same, selling the same stuff to what looks like the same people. Only my sea soaked friends who occasionally find themselves in a similar situation will truly understand.

Oh and forget the idea that a cruise is full of old people on the "see Jamaica and die" tour. The average age is no longer that old perhaps as low as mid- forties. However, the average weight has increased to about 600 pounds. It is now the "eat Jamaica and die" tour.

Ultimately this is a mortgage payment for me, not a vacation. I love performing, that is what I do, it is my job and I'm blessed to get the opportunity to ply my art. It brings me great joy and I never get bored entertaining a crowd. But those brief moments on stage are book ended by long hours of solitude away from home. I say it over and over, "I do the show for free, but you have to pay me a lot to get me to board another plane."

I got an email from performing ventriloquist friend who shares my distrust of the TSA. It seems his puppet case arrived completely repacked by the screeners in a way that could have damaged his instrument. They had not sealed the latches nor attempted to leave the case in the same manner it was when they effectively vandalized it with and inspection.

As I told him, they are just doing their job keeping us safe. They will quickly point out that there has never been a plane high jacked by a ventriloquist dummy since the TSA has been in charge.

As you were,
Jay

Technical Denial

It never fails to entertain my darker side when I realize that the internet, wifi, and computer communications including cell phones hang by a thread of improvised human understanding. I say improvised because most of us know the basic overview of how the whole system works, but the minute the flow is interrupted our actual knowledge is put to the test. When this happens we are exposed as knowing just enough to operate the machine, not really control it.

It all started when I decided to secure my wifi network at the house with a pass word. A year ago when I set up the network it was at least a day of frustration . To reach the back of the house, which includes the master bedroom, the signal has to go around a large triple fireplace brick structure which renders it too weak to be affective. I extended the network with another wireless router at the back of the house to boost the signal. If that sounds like I know what I am doing it's a sham. I know more than the average person about Macintosh because it is dyslexic friendly and doesn't mind a trial and error learning curve; but once it is up and running I promptly forget the steps needed to repeat the operation without the same trial and error frustration.

For a few moments it seemed to be going fine. I set the new pass word, updated the base station, and clicked continue. However, when it restarted it showed only the one station in the office and not the one in the back. What followed was hours of cursing, calming, correcting and coercing the entire system, continuing until late into the night. In trying to connect to the back of the house, I rendered the entire system inoperable. I was left trying to solve the problem of a blinking yellow light on my base station rather than the necessary non-blinking green light. I had no internet, on any computer, I couldn't get online, check my email, write this blog... at midnight it seemed hopeless. I thought to my self, "Don't panic, I am sure there is help for this situation on line....(panic) Wait, I can't get on line....". With that I accepted the fact that I would be Internetless at least until the next day, when I could call my friend Andrew, an actual Mac Genius. So, I turned the entire system off, thinking that after it had a chance to rest over night it would start to operate properly.

It is easy to turn off the mechanical machinery, but the human worry machine is not so accomodating. I finally drifted off to sleep. The next morning with a fresh perspective and the knowledge that my Mac genius friend was just a call away, I began the process again. The rest had not changed the attitude of the machinery. I was exactly where I was the night before.

Over the phone, Andrew gave me a new method to try and after an hour the base station was back on line, but the network still did not work. Two hours later after resetting the factory defaults it was back and all working again.

I was thrilled to be back on line, back in communication with the world after being denied for 24 hours. I was now able to do anything I wanted to online. I breathed a sigh of relief, poured a cup of coffee, and read the morning newspaper. It wasn't the fact that I needed to actually do anything that required the online network, it was the frustration that "it" wouldn't let me if I did.

A great lesson was learned. I learned I have much more determined energy to overcome the idea of being refused something than the need to use it when it is allowed. They say computers are great learning tools, this was an unexpected and more esoteric course.

As you were,
Jay

The Conversation That Never Ends

Yen: Hi.

Yang: Hello. Who is this?

Yen: I am the voice inside your head. How are you doing? You seem a little depressed.

Yang: Who wants to know ?

Yen: I guess you do. Why else would I ask you?

Yang: Wait a minute, are you the voice inside "your" head or the voice inside "my" head? I mean your exact words were "voice inside your head", but that would be me. Am I wrong?

Yen: Not wrong. I am me, which makes me you. It's complicated. It's only pronouns let's just say we are both I.

Yang: But I is a singular pronoun, how can you and me be two I's?

Yen: I knew you were going to ask that question.

Yang: If you knew already why did I have to ask?

Yen: You're the one who brought it up. Let's just say you are me and I am myself. We are an individual.

Yang: Does that make sense?

Yen: Why all the questions?

Yang: You're the one who started with the questions. You said, "How are you doing?"

Yen: I just wanted to know. Personally I'm doing fine.

Yang: But who are you?

Yen: I told you it's complicated. Can't you just accept me as the you who wants to know how I am doing.

Yang: How am I doing? Well to tell you the truth I've not been feeling myself lately.

Yen: What's wrong?

Yang: I think I'm hearing voices.

Yen: You want to talk about it?

NO BLOG TODAY...

Count the number of Black dots in this picture and post that number as a comment.

Junk Fax

I have one of those all-in-one printers. It scans, it prints, it faxes, it reads camera media, it slices and dices and makes an excellent daiquiri, although the clean up is not worth the trouble. The printer also collates the pages so you don't have to reorder them after it prints out.

I rarely get faxes anymore with the ease of email attachments, but perhaps twice a week I will look down and see a "junk fax" advertising anything from mortgages to cleaning supplies laying face up in the printer cradle. It irritates me that some unsolicited advertiser uses up a sheet of my paper and a my ink cartridge touting something that I am absolutely not interested in. Usually I leave it there so I can use the other side of the paper for something that needs to be printed as a draft.

I also have a son who attends UCLA as a linguistics major. Most of his work is done and delivered on line but occasionally he needs to print out a hard copy to hand in. When that happens he uses my printer. It's not the only way I contribute to his education, but perhaps the easiest.

Recently he had a long paper due that included a discussion about the California economic crisis. As is the family trait, he waited till the last possible minute to print it out. In fact this particular assignment printed out only moments before he needed to be back at school to turn it in. He grabbed the print out, quickly stapled the pages together and made the mad dash through LA traffic to Westwood.

The paper was returned to him yesterday. He got a good grade, with a few corrections from the Professor, but a large question mark regarding the last page. The Professor wrote in the margins that he didn't understand the relevance of that page to the rest of the paper. He suggested that Taylor stop by and explain it when he had the chance.

The page in question was extolling the virtues of a local janitorial service with reasons why it made good economic sense to hire that company for cleaning needs. It was a "junk fax" that was in the cradle under the actual paper and got stapled to the assignment in the rush.

From that UCLA Professor's point of view, one of his students has a plan to solve the California budget crisis with effective management of cleaning needs.

Cleaning up California's government would seem to be a very relevant idea.

As you were,

Jay

The Heisenberg Principle

Werner Heisenberg was born on 5th December, 1901, at Würzburg. He was the son of Dr. August Heisenberg and his wife Annie Wecklein. His father later became Professor of the Middle and Modern Greek languages in the University of Munich.Werner became a quantum physicist before we even knew what that was, and started publishing quantum mathematical theories when he was in his mid-twenties. This is a picture of him in 1927 when he was 26. He may be best know for his "Uncertainty Theory". You can click and read about it. He shows the math... good luck.

In addition to his "Uncertainty Theory" he also came up with what is known as the "Heisenberg Principle". He stated that an experiment is changed to the degree that we observe it. That is to say, by watching something happen we change the outcome in ways we can't even perceive.

At my CBC meeting Wednesday this idea came up and I can't stop thinking about it. (CBC is an exclusive organization of gentlemen who ponder life and it's meta-narratives on a weekly basis... or is that weakly basis? Nonetheless, it would take too long to explain the CBC so I will leave that for some other time. All I can tell you is that one of the members at the CBC meeting Wednesday wanted to make sure that the conversation was not being covertly recorded. Since I picked the meeting place I can be fairly certain there were no bugs.)

Anyway, all paranoia aside..... Here is what I can't stop thinking about.

If Heisenberg is correct and humans do change the experiment to the degree we observe it, what does that say about the 24 hour news cycle and current government? Aren't our politicians under almost 24 hour scrutiny? Haven't there been times when we have recorded our civic leaders saying one thing, only to contradict that same statement at a later date. Aren't we constantly observing, through mass media, our leaders and this experiment called government? Then I suggest, to that degree we are changing the experiment. The problem is... we can't know if we are influencing the experiment in a good way or a bad way.

In our effort to insure freedom of the press and stay informed, are we changing the course of the discussion to special interests rather than what is good for the country as a whole? Perhaps government was better when we had to wait for the weekly newspaper to come out to give us the facts of what really happened. Now we get to instantly speculate on what a our leaders MIGHT be thinking. Before they make a decision we are already against it or in support of it. No doubt we have instant news.
BUT....
Instant coffee is not as good as brewed. Instant oatmeal is not as good as the kind that takes 15 minutes to actually make. Why is instant news coverage any different? There is no doubt that you sacrifice quality for quickness.

Give me the news that took a day to prepare, 24 hours to research, several rewrites to correct and an editor to re read it and make sure it is the truth. That can't be done in a "breaking story". News should be prepared and valued for its thoroughness, not glorified for its instantaneous-ness.

As you were,
Jay

2010 Winter Olympic Games
Justin Tyme - Reporter

Winter, Winner!

In the men's Olympic Freestyle skiing event, the difference in time between Gold and Bronze medals was .09 of a second. I'm not sure I am mathematically qualified to write such a minuscule number correctly. Would you say .09/second is as quick as wink?

Isn't that a human definition of the fastest measure of time "quick as a wink or "the blink of an eye?" Blinking is the quickest voluntary and involuntary reaction the body controls. It is our quickest reflex. So how long is that really?

Well I looked it up and the best answer for the length of time it takes to blink is .1 to .15 of a second. If that's the case then, you can do the math, .09 of a second is a lot shorter than a blink?

If a race for speed is determined by half the time it takes to blink, then the human body can move faster than it has time to biologically react. Driving 80 mph on the freeway in my car yesterday I was seven miles slower than the average speed of the men's Olympic luge runs. I can't imagine going that fast laying directly on the ground, my back supported only by two large butter knives.

The question is: just because we can propel the human body down solid ice at those speeds, should we?

You tell me,
Justin Tyme

A Rose By Any Other Name

Happy Presidents Day. I don't mean to imply this is a day for celebrating Happy Presidents; I mean that it is Presidents Day and you should have a Happy one.

Before my friend Larry Imes died four years ago he used funny fake names every time he wrote me an email. I got messages from Anna Ceptic... registered nurse, Sir Wran Rapp... Arab sheik, Shomeeda Kash... hooker, Nita Fixx... drug addict. Not only were the names clever, they were also relevant to the message or to his feelings at the time. I started keeping a list so I wouldn't forget them; now I have forgotten what I did with the list.

This is for you Larry.

There was a nice Italian family with the nice Italian last name of Cianci. They had a little girl and they named her Nancy Ann. So... her name was Nancy Ann Cianci, which rhymes with the tattle tail song of "neener neener, neeener".

The Hogg's were a very wealthy family in Texas. Mr. Hogg made lots of money and donated enough to build Hogg Auditorium at the University of Texas. Mr. Hogg's oldest daughter, a debutant, rose to the apex of Texas society. Her name, Ima. Ima Hogg ... wealthy Texas socialite.

In honor of Presidents Day this one is new on the list. A man named Lloyd Friedus (pronounced "Freed Us") had a son. He wanted name his son after President Abraham Lincoln, but the name Abraham seemed dated and too ethnic. So, he decided to name the boy, Lincoln. His name would be...
Lincoln Friedus.

Happy President's Day
Haywood U. Blome, Congressman... District 9

As you were,
Jay

Today is Valentine's Day... it is also the Lunar New Year.

So... Moon your Sweetheart.

You have Less than 24 hours until Valentine's Day

LAST MINUTE VALENTINES

I don't know who is reading this besides you and occasionally Howard Stern, but this Sunday is Valentine's day. There is debate on how Valentine's Day began and what it actually means. Some say Valentine was a priest who performed marriages for young couples which was against the law in the time of Claudius of Rome.

Others say Valentine was a prisoner who fell in love with the jailer's daughter and sent her a romantic note before his death and signed it.. "From your Valentine."Other stories tell of a hero named Valentine who helped innocent men escape from Roman prisons. Valentine's day occurs around the time of other pagan celebrations and precedes lent and spring solstice. February 14th is either the day Valentine died, the day he was executed, the day he was born or the day he was baptised. Those are just facts.

If you are a male of the human species, none of that matters. Here is what it really means. If you have a relationship with another human still living and you wish to keep, foster, improve or begin sharing "benefits" from that relationship... you better not let Valentine's Day go by without planning and preparation. Both planning and preparation conclude with appropriate gifts to the one you expect "benefits" from.

Valentine's Day is a female celebration of manipulation over males. The celebration has been carefully crafted for centuries, if you are a male don't try to fight it.

Remember in grade school when you had to bring Valentine's cards for everyone in the class? Who made that a class assignment? Your teacher. Your female teacher! For years Mothers, sisters, girlfriends, lovers and wives have drilled us men with yearly, Valentine's day training exercises until, like Pavlov's's dogs, we think slobbering on cue is *our* idea.

Gay, straight, young, old, beautiful or OMG ugly -it makes no difference, all males have been conditioned to subliminally respond to Valentine's Day stimuli and marketing.

Flowers, candy, cards, poems and something red in the shape of a heart is mandatory. Gifts for the bedroom are encouraged because it sends the proper signals for the desired result of your gift giving efforts.

Here is a suggestion for all you last minute lovers. It is a great gift for the bedroom. Very clever, inventive and thought provoking, and exactly the WRONG thing to get for your Valentine on Sunday. In case the image is too blurry, it is a decapitated horse head pillow. (I didn't make this up.... you can find it at HorseHead Pillow.com)

I love the "Godfather" and a pillow depicting one of the more famous scenes in that movie is great, but it will probably send the wrong message to your lover. I suggest you "make an offer they can't refuse" on another level.

That's all. Now that you know what not to get you're lover, you're on your own to find the perfect gift that symbolizes your love.

I will be giving my lady a small gift, a personally designed Valentine card and an original poem written just for her. I have been making cards and writing poems to her on this day for over 30 years. Yeah it's work, but I have been married to the same lovely woman all that time and she hasn't signed the form for the authorization of my accidental death and dismemberment.... YET.

By the time you read this you have less than 48 hours to come up with something romantic for your relationship.... your love life is on the clock... GO
As you were,
Jay

Radio Daze

This week's east coast blizzard had some wonderful consequences for me here on the west. My friend Harry was snowed in for a couple of days. To be snowed in at Harry's house is like being trapped inside the worlds greatest magic museum and oddity emporium. Harry has great stuff and a good eye for finding and acquiring the interesting, the bazaar and the unique. In addition to his own collection he was proprietor of two shops in New Orleans, SideShow and Spade and Archer which sold all kinds of unusual items; most of which ended up moving with him after he closed both shops and left New Orleans.

I remember Harry telling me about the girl from the moving company in New Orleans who came to submit an estimate. She said to Harry, "What's in that crate?" He replied, "A guillotine." She paused and said, "That would be the first guillotine we have ever moved.... what is in the case next to it?" Harry again replied, "That's my other guillotine." With out missing the beat she said, "That would be the second guillotine we have ever moved." You get the picture....

So... Harry, being snowed in, is going through unopened boxes and comes across some vinyl 33 1/3 record albums of ventriloquism that he didn't know he had. There was some Bergen, and a couple of Jimmy Nelson albums, and a Ricky Lane album that I didn't know even existed. He called me to say he is sending me the records, for my birthday... which is 6 months away. Then he said, "You have a turn table to play them, right?"

I have three mini-disc recorders, four audio cassette player/recorders, six different models of ipods, CD, DVD, VCR - VHS and BETA player/recorders, two micro-cassette player/recorders, a laser-disc player and a 1972 reel to reel quarter inch video tape player/recorder, BUT, the last time I saw my turn table it was sitting next to my large reel to reel audio tape recorder which I know I sold.

I told Harry I would figure a way to transfer the vinyls somehow. Harry said, "You don't transfer recordings, you listen to them... get a turntable and listen to them..." He was right, but I still figured I would have to do a transfer before I could listen to them.

Yesterday a package arrives with a cute little 16" x 12" x 6" camel brown retro-looking suitcase inside. It looks like a small vintage puppet case, which for me is captivating enough on its own. I open the case and discover it is a self contained record player with amp and side speakers. Just like the ones every kid used to have in the 50's and 60's to play 45's. (This may be a reference entirely lost on anyone under 30...yipes). This record player is the modern day version of that antique unit with a note from Harry which says, "Now you will be able to listen to the records when they arrive." I have said it before and I will say it again, *... that's the kind of guy my friend Harry is.*

Our kids sold most of our vinyl collection, which was extensive at the time, to Ameoba many years ago for their allowance money. I kept a few records that were autographed to me or irreplaceable.

I still have a set of four 78rpms that were air checks of the Edgar Bergen radio show, released in 1947. It was a Top Ten label which, according to the cover notes, released a lot of radio show recordings of the time. They list Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, Eddie Cantor and Amos n' Andy as stars in their roster.

The first thing I did was fire up the new "record player" with the old Bergen 78's. I had not heard these routines for at least 20 years, and then only once to check the condition of the records. I had to figure out how the new player worked and remember my technique for placing a needle on the groove of a record. It has been a decade or so since I had to do it. But after all these retro-unique preparations were accomplished, I sat back and enjoyed. It is amazing listening to a vinyl recording of a sixty-two year old radio show. There is something almost mystical about the experience.

It's now normal to plug your stereo earphones into an mp3 player smaller than a pack of gum and hear crystal clear sounds equal in number to thousands of vinyl records. There are no moving parts, no real interaction with the process, only a passive acceptance of the delivery.

Watching an eleven inch disc revolve past a tone arm at 78rpm and hearing the warm hiss of a needle scratching plastic is a time warp. You get to watch the sound being created on this revolving plate right there in front of you . The magic is the fact that it doesn't seem magical. It is logical, this plate spins, the needle rides the grooves. If you slow the spinning down with your finger it slows the sound to the same degree. If you look close enough you can even see that the grooves are little tiny sound waves. Loud sounds are bigger wiggles than the soft smaller sound wiggles. In the near future demonstrating this kind of sound could become the technical equivalent of a live performance.

I can't wait for the other records to arrive. I may have to invite friends over and make a party out of listening to them, as they were meant to be heard. I like having all my audio and video needs on a silicon chip that will fit in my pocket. It surely is easier to travel with. This is the first time in history that the media is smaller than the player that decodes it and that is no doubt a convenience. But I wonder if we have sacrificed the excitement of participating in the process in the name of ease. I guess there should be room in our world for both.

As you were,
Jay

"Lucy! Ju got some splainin' to do..."

I call it "my office" at the house, but since "the house" also belongs to Sandi it is community property. I share the computer, the desk, the files, the paper clips and the entire space with her. All of this is really not that unusual since we have shared our lives and two kids together for several decades.

For the most part she uses the office pays the bills, writes the checks and make sure the corporation is running smoothly. Me? Well, I use the office to store puppets, write, draw and rehearse. Sandi has a stack of "to do" papers on the desk that I affectionately call "the rats nest", and I have my stack of important correspondence on the other side that she refers to as "the mess." Several times a month I go through "the mess" and shred the papers that are no longer relevant in my life.

I know better than to pass judgment on "the rat's nest" having made that mistake before. Assuming I could shred what seems like pure trash has caused me problems in the past; as I am clearing my "mess" I try not to bother "the nest". But in some cases I feel the need to at least re-stack the papers of the "rat's nest" in a more orderly fashion.

That is exactly what I was doing when the paper below hidden in the rat's nest caught my eye.




It has my name, address and birth date on the form; I have circled the interesting part in red circle. It is a form, waiting for her signature to "Authorize my accidental death and dismemberment". I guess the mob has gone legit and requires authorization for punitive action. I notice that it is not yet signed by my lovely wife so I may have some time left.

Thank goodness I found this before Valentine's Day. There is a chance I can make up for whatever wrong I have done before I get dismembered. Experts say get her something that is expensive that she doesn't really need. The only thing I can think of really expensive that she really doesn't really need it a root canal.

I have some time, and now, since I know the consequences.... I better use it wisely.

As you were,
Jay

Academy Awards

With the Academy Awards nominations all in, here is a tribute to the editors who seldom get the fanfare that actors and directors do. This is footage from the Sound of Music, edited with some specifically generic music. Thanks to David Sinkler for finding this:




And here is an alternate treatment of the movie "The Shining". Thanks to my Goddaughter Eva Faye for finding this one:




"Film is like a box of chocolates... you never know what your gonna git"

As you were,
Jay

Half Time Show

Connie Kaplan started this and I felt the need to finish it:

A: Who performed at half time at the SuperBowl yesterday?
C: That's right.
A: I'm asking the name of the performers on the half time show.
C: Who.
A: The guys that performed at the half time show.
C: Who
A: The half time performers.
C: Who performed at half time of the Super Bowl.
A: That's what I asking.
C: That's what I telling you.
A: Yeah, if you told me their name.... Who dat?
A: No, Who dat was the nick name for the Saints.
C: I'm not talking about the name of the football team... I want to know the name of the group.
A: Who.
C: The performers that did the half time show.
A: Who performed the half time show.
C: That is what I am asking you.
A: I've been trying to tell you.
A: But Who performed?
C: Yes for at least 15 minutes.
A: Who did?
C: Absolutely.
A: Absolutely?
C: Yes....
A: Okay, I get it...... So, Absolutely performed the half time show...
C: No... Who performed...
A: Absolutely....
C: That's right...
A: So, as Absolutely is performing the show at half time....
C: Absolutely didn't perform at half time, Who did...
A: Absolutely.... so Absolutely performed the show...
C: No no you have to say it the right way...
A: I don't even know what I'm talking about.....

Nor do I... thanks for that mental time bomb, Connie.
As you were,
Jay

This one will make you crazy too. The only one not moving is the one you are looking at.

I don't know why.... just enjoy how your brain works.

StageTime

When Nevada gambling was controlled by the Mob, it was a different place. They had a different business model to say the least. Most important to them was time. They wanted their shows to run exactly on time. The reason being, they didn't want to have 700 or more people trapped in a show room for very long when they could be gambling. Years ago I was told the casino made 100k a minute. If the show ran two minutes too long they considered that they had lost 200k.

They clocked everyone on an off stage with a stop watch and that report went to the casino manager. There was no doubt what act went over their time. It you did go over they would walk into your dressing room and have it all typed out. They would lay the paper in front of you and say.. "Here is 20 grand we are paying you.... your show went over 2 minutes so the casino lost 200k, we deduct that from your salary and we have a loss of 180k. How can we expect payment?" Based upon the neck size alone of the guys who delivered the paper, It was an effective deterrent.

They even installed a countdown clock flush with the stage at Harrahs, Reno. Only the act could see it. It would start to run backwards when you walked on stage. At five minutes left a red light would go on, and at zero the red light would stay on. I jokingly asked what happened if you didn't get off then? The stage manager told me that a trap door would open and I would fall into the pit with the other comics that were never heard from again.

The names are not mentioned here to protect the innocent...Me. This is a true story. The casino manager is telling the opening comic or maybe a ventriloquist not to go over his assigned time on stage. He says (think a broken nose), "Now when I tell ya ta do fifteen minutes... I mean fifteen minutes... not fifteen minutes and one second.... not fourteen minutes and ninety-nine seconds..... ya do fifteen."

You know, he must have given that speech to hundreds of opening comics... no one ever laughed or corrected his math.

Have a good week end.

As you were,
Jay

The Process of Writing.....

Chapter 1, page 1, first word..... THE, no that's not right..uh... A... A gorilla walks into a bar...nope uh... A gorilla GOES into a bar..... A gorilla from the Circus goes into a bar..... no, The Circus comes to town... that's a better start get the over view of the larger action right up front. A circus is a good image anything can happen at a Circus... I like that.... So.... The Circus comes to town and the gorilla goes into a bar. Would it be THE bar or A bar. I guess the town would have more than one.... Maybe it should be a monkey.... Circus monkey that's better. Monkeys are funnier than Gorillas... I think... The Circus comes to town and a monkey goes into the bar to order a drink. Maybe he should clime up on the stool, clime, that doesn't seem right... clime, he climes up on the.... wait it's spelled CLIMB. What is that all about a silent B? Who made that rule. Who is the spelling sheriff anyway... wasn't there a time ..... sorry... timb when you could spell words anyway you wanted.

Like the word subtle, why isn't it suttle, That isn't even a word in the dictionary, it's not being used. I can understand if you already had the word suttle in the dictionary and it meant something like "yell loudly in a crowd"... like He suttled a curse word at the referee. That would be the absolute opposite of being subtle, so you would have to put a B in the word so you wouldn't get the two confused, you know like to and too and two or their, they're, and there. That's obviously what happened to CLIMB.... CLIME is already a word that means something else about the climate or something. That makes sense to me but that's not what they do with subtle... they create an original word with a silent B even though the easy spelling is just sitting at the dictionary office on a shelf waiting to be assigned. That's another thing... teachers used to tell me if I didn't know how to spell something look it up in the dictionary. Doesn't a dictionary list the words in alphabetical order according to spelling? How do you find out how to spell something when the only way to find it is to spell it out. I can't tell you how many times you can go to the dictionary trying to find a word like suttle and it isn't there. Seems like right next to it they should put... "actually spelled subtle" because the people who write dictionaries should be smart enough to figure that out.

Speaking of that who writes dictionaries? Wasn't that Samuel Johnson or.... Webster, Daniel Webster.... Webster's Dictionary.... do you think he started with A words or just the words that came into his head first? That's the way I would do it, just start with the easy words. First one would be quill, cause he was probably writing with a quill pen... then ink. uh.... UH.... what was I just thinking? Wait, Wait, I almost had it again... oh yeah. The Circus comes to town and a monkey goes into the bar, climbs up on the stool to order a drink. Too long of a set up.... needs to be shorter... to the point.... A Circus monkey walks into a bar and says to the bartender...now I'm rolling the monkey is going to order a drink say a Bananna no banannnaa, no crap banana... he will order a banana daquari ..... dackery..... banana dquary.... screw it... orders a beer. A Circus monkey walks into a bar and says to the bartender "Hey my good bar keep I wish to order one of your fine beers........... that doesn't sound like a monkey, sounds like Frazier.... maybe that is funny if the monkey talks like Frazier...... Would you be so kind, my good man as to ply your craft and draft me one of your fine.... finest What time is it? oh time for lunch.... well what have I got so far? A Circus monkey walks into a bar and says to the bartender "Would you be so kind, my good man as to ply your craft and draft me one of your fine.... finest" Okay.... okay that works I think I'll knock off for the day.

As you were,

Jay

Friends?

My friend Harry Anderson treated me to a movie and my favorite snacks on my birthday last summer. That's just the kind of guy he is.

He returned with this:

That's also the kind of guy he is.

Now that he is not doing a regular television series I think he has way too much time on his hands. For more on the Anderson/Johnson saga you can refer to a former blog.

Harry Anderson BFF or BFD

So Howard if you are still reading.... I can say *nice* things about people as well.

As you were,
Jay

The Hollywood Tour Bus

Sandi is gone for the week and I am by myself for awhile. She is always up before me to bring in the morning paper. That's up to me for the next few days.

So yesterday I slowly wake up, throw on an old bathrobe that looks a little like a bad ceremonial cape Gandolf wouldn't wear and head out to get the Times. I haven't had my coffee yet and my appearance would scare small dogs and children.

The street in front of our house is one of the only streets that goes straight through from Magnolia to Ventrua Blvd. It's a short cut that saves a lot of time for those who know about it. It doesn't get excessive traffic but enough to have speed bumps installed. One of those bumps is right in front of my drive which means most cars slow way down just at that point.

I bend over to pick up the paper when a Hollywood Star Tours bus slows down for the bump, it almost comes to a complete stop right in front of my house. I am at that moment effectively mooning the bus that takes "out of towners" to see where the stars live.

Now, my street is not a tourist destination and it is too early for an actual tour. Although I can't see through the windows I assume it is empty. Most probably the bus driver was just cutting through to get to his destination to start his day. But it made me laugh. I stand up straighten my medevial garb and waved like I was Miss America on the pagent run way.

I thought about my appearance out there in the drive and it reminded me of a line from the act of my comic friend Ralph Achilles. It goes like this: "Do you know why old men have their pants hiked way up high and wear house shoes to the hardware store? (Insert... dress like a bad wizard) Because they aren't trying to get lucky, they're just trying to be comfortable and keep their pants up."

Well, I guess that's me... I'm not trying to get lucky... I'm just going to get the paper. I hate to think it has anything to do with my age. I'm still 32 in my mind.

I have to go to the Home Depot now, so I need to find those comfortable house shoes.

As you were,
Jay

Talk Shows

Here is an idea to improve the quality of late night Talk Shows. How about paying more attention to the guests than the host? Instead of paying a host millions of dollars to carry a show, why don't they just book more entertaining people to perform on the show.

I am old enough to remember Ed Sullivan. He was no comic or even a pleasant entertainer. He looked very much like a talking cadaver that they propped up to fill the space between the acts. I couldn't see that he had any discernible skills except that he had and eye for talent. But I would never miss the show because I got to see great performers. He included jugglers, magicians, circus acts, Opera singers and yes even several ventriloquists were regulars.

I am tired of the parade of authors and actors that are only there to promote the sale of their books or movies. One of David Letterman's best weeks, a couple of years ago, was ventriloquist week. That opinion is based not on the fact that I was a part of it, the ratings were really good. As it turned out Jeff Dunham and I were the only ones of the group with anything to promote other than our acts. It was just entertainment not part of a promotional tour.

When studios send an actor or publishers send an author on a promo tour they do any show that will put them on the air, and any magazine that will give them space. They say the same things about the same movie and show the same clips. You see the same questions asked by different hosts, local and national with the same stock actor answers.

Johnny Carson used to have guests that were just great guests with nothing to promote. Groucho Marx, Jack Benny, George Burns, Jimmy Stewart to name a few. They used to book talk shows like they were trying to entertain the audience not just sell the next movie. When was the last time you saw a celebrity on a talk show who wasn't pushing some new project? There is a great wealth of variety acts and entertainers that are great but don't have a movie to promote. When was the last time anybody had Jonathan Winters on their show just because he is a fascinating guy?

The reason? The current stock of talk show hosts can't carry on a conversation with an actor or entertainer without 20 questions prepared by the movie studio publicist. Here is a shout out to the network suits, the talk show producers and all the "late night funny guys" trying to jockey for a late night rating. Book some performers on the show, not just stand up comedians. Keep the comedians but how about a really funny magician, or plate spinner, ventriloquist or some of the great acts you can only see now on YouTube. There is a wealth of talent out there waiting for a the call and the chance.

I don't care who's the host if it's a really great show. It seems pretty simple to me... but what do I know... I just like to be entertained.

As you were,
Jay