ask cool daddy 2...(4CE reprint feb 2011)

"Ask Cool Daddy 2"

Did the Beatles write the Rolling Stones' first single? Not the first, no, ironic as that would have been. While fans supposedly split into warring factions, Beatles versus Stones, the objects of their affection remained good mates from way back. Actually, as I recall it, there was hardly anybody who didn't like both. But the first record released by the Stones was June 1963, A-side Chuck Berry's "Come On," B-side Willie Dixon's "I Want to Be Loved." It spent 14 weeks on the UK charts, reaching #21. In November 1963, their 2nd 45, again only in the UK, was a Lennon-McCartney song "I Wanna Be Your Man," backed with a self-composed instrumental called "Stoned." It was a bigger hit, up to #12.

Why did the Beatles give their song away, one they would eventually record themselves? Because in those days, they "hustled" their music. There were 2 ways to make money with records: record your own and sell them, or write songs for others and receive royalty payments. That's what ASCAP and BMI are for…to pay composers, not performers. The Beatles did both, with a passion. The first U.S. release by the Stones came in March 1964, Buddy Holly's "Not Fade Away" backed with "I Wanna Be Your Man." It reached #48, white the same A-side, with a different B-side, went to #3 in England.

Wasn't that catchy tune Ernie Kovacs used for his Nairobi Trio skits recycled a decade later for the Colt 45 Beer commercials? They do sound similar, but they are really different pieces of music. The "Song of the Nairobi Trio" was originally titled "Solfeggio," written by jazz harpist (that's harp, not harmonica!) Robert Maxwell. Solfeggio is Italian for a form of vocalese where each note is sung with it's corresponding do-re-mi syllable. The recording Kovacs used was by Maxwell's orchestra, with vocals by the Ray Charles Singers, no not that one, the other one, Perry Como's Ray Charles. The jingle on the Colt 45 Malt Liquor commercials with Billy Van was written by Canadian legends of jingledom Jerry Toth and Dolores Claman. It was officially titled "A Completely Unique Experience." In 1968 Claman also composed the Hockey Night in Canada Theme.

I love both Henry Mancini's "Peter Gunn" soundtrack albums. Should I search out and watch the shows? For great 1950s-style crime drama, yes, definitely…but for the music, not so much. Hank of course revolutionized TV music, replacing orchestral violins with cool jazz. Even the syndicated western "Shotgun Slade" used anachronistically hip tunes, and that was a selling point. But as great as that swinging music was, "Brothers Go to Mothers," "Dreamsville," The Floater," and all the rest were actually fleshed-out arrangements based on brief motifs used on the show, what they call in the business "cues." Even the iconic Peter Gunn Theme ran less than 60 seconds at the beginning and end of each half-hour episode. So yes, you will hear bits and pieces you'll recognize, and a bevy of sultry nightclub singers to boot, but don't expect to hear Peter Gunn's greatest hits. It didn't work that way…same thing with other TV soundtrack records from the period.

For once and for all, was the Buoys' song "Timothy" really about cannibalism? It sure was, and the 20-year-old composer of the song never denied it, not then, not ever, and that was Rupert Holmes…yup, the "Pina Colada Song" guy. He was kicking around the music business in the late 1960s, and got a band from Wilkes-Barre, PA signed to Scepter Records, home of Dione Warwick and B.J. Thomas. The deal included one single, but they understood there'd be virtually no promotion of it. So Rupert figured, why not put out something that would be automatically banned, based on the time-honored principle that bad publicity is still publicity. The mining disaster and subsequent scarfing of poor Tim was inspired by Tennessee Ernie Ford's "16 Tons"…he thought the description of "a man" in that song sounded like a recipe, and while not a member of the Buoys, he did play piano on the track.

The rest is one-hit-wonder history. "Timothy" was one of the slowest rising hits ever, gaining popularity thru word of mouth, as radio stations fussed over whether to play it. In some markets, one station did, while its crosstown rival didn't, but it was that way with a lot of singles. Scepter Records felt blind-sided and tried to push the story that Timothy was a mule, not a person, but Rupert refused to go along. It's said there's a censored version with different lyrics, but I've yet to find it. Something to look forward to, sez me.

Yeah, but the Purple People Eater is called that because he eats purple people, right? Of course, and he even says so in the song…when asked "What's your line?" he replies "Eating purple people and it sure is fine." The counter-argument is that he's the one that's purple, not the people he eats. Well, it's both, so why are we having this discussion? Maybe that's how he gets to be purple, did you ever think of that? Sheb Wooley wrote and recorded this classic. Soon after, "The Purple People Eater Meets The Witch Doctor" was written and recorded by Joe South, and covered by the Big Bopper. Sheb came right back with "Santa and the Purple People Eater" just in time for Christmas. Man, those were the days...

It was labeled "Ameriachi," but did Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass ever recorded any real mariachi music? Not only didn't they, Herb said in interviews at the time that he purposely avoided it. Yes, he was from Los Angeles, and was influenced by the rowdy excitement of the music he heard at bullfights in Tijuana, but even his breakthrough single "The Lonely Bull" was originally titled "Twinkle Star." The first 2 Tijuana Brass albums especially did have some ethnic touches, even German oom-pah…and early publicity described it as "Tex-Mex" flavored, but Herb was aiming for something else. Real mariachi has kind of a hurry-up waltz beat, and the TJB sound was pure American pop all the way.

I heard that the group Poco was originality named Pogo…true? Absolutely! They signed with Epic records in February 1969, but by April, Pogo comic strip artist Walt Kelly had gotten wind of their name and threatened to sue. So they came up with the bright idea of changing Pogo to Poco…this worked especially well with capital letters, the G morphing into a C. Thus the their name recognition was pretty much retained, and presumably some letter-head was salvaged as well. Till next time, go to deepfriedhoodsiecups.wordpress.com and follow the groovy links...and whatever you do, rock on!

xmas hit or myth? (4CE reprint dec 2010)

"Christmas Hit or Myth"

√ Plum pudding once contained plums.

Maybe it still does, if you dig around in there, you might find some? Nope, this is a myth. In Merrie Olde England, "plum" meant dried fruit in general, almost universally raisins, since they were the most affordable. Even "currents" were small imported raisins,"raisins of Cornith." If you could afford it, you could use dried apricots, figs, dates, even prunes, but basically plums were raisins. Little Jack Horner's Christmas pie was mince-meat, the plum on his thumb a raisin. Sugar-plums were candies made from dried fruits. Fruit-cake was often called plum-cake. But then the French call French-fried potatoes "pommes frites," literally fried apples, so there you go. Plumb interesting if you ask me.

√ The 4 calling birds in "The 12 Days of Christmas" are mynah birds.

Or parrots, or magpies, or some other loud-mouthed budgies? Nice try, but no dice. Originally, it was "colley birds," also spelled colly or collie, meaning blackbirds. Collie was Scottish for black, from coal, and indeed the original Collie dogs were black, not Lassie-colored. Also, the 5 golden rings do not refer to jewelry but to ring-necked pheasants, so the first 7 gifts are all birds. And what was a partridge doing in a pear-tree? It's believed the original line was "a partridge, un perdrix," French for partridge, pronounced pear-dree. Partridges may perch in a tree occasionally, but they are primarily ground-dwelling fowl, and build their nests there.

√ The 12 Days of Christmas do not include Christmas Day.

This is a festive hit, because the 12th Day of Christmas is the Epiphany, Jan. 6th, and if you include Christmas Day, that's 13 in all. The idea in olden times was that the 12 Days of Christmas were a time of celebration, merry-making, and especially on the Epiphany, playing practical jokes. These activities were inappropriate to the holiness and solemnity of Christmas Day itself, so the revelry started the next day, St. Stephen's Day, Dec. 26.

What throws people off today is the celebration of Twelfth Night on the night of Jan. 5, the eve of the Epiphany. After all, what comes after the 12th Night? The 13th Day, and since there are only 12 Days of Christmas, the Epiphany must be out. Counting back, the First Day would then be Christmas itself. What's being forgotten is this: the 24-hour calendar day used to be reckoned differently than it is today…it didn't start at midnight, but rather approximately 6 hours earlier, at sundown the previous day.

So 12th Night was not followed by the 13th Day, but by the12th Day. In the same way, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were the same day, not 2 consecutive days. Ditto New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, which is why New Year's Eve is sometimes called "First Night," but that's the first of 365, not 12, of course.

√ Poinsettias are poisonous so don't eat them.

I agree with the "don't eat" part, but the poisonous part is a complete myth. Poinsettias were introduced to the US in 1928 by Joel Poinsett, Minister to Mexico. In the wild, plants grow up to 16 feet tall. The actual flowers are small yellow or green bits, surrounded by large red bracts, specialized leaves designed to draw in pollinating insects. No one seems to know why poinsettias are thought to be toxic. Over the years, public displays of poinsettia consumption haven't seemed to convince anyone. According to the American Association of Poison Control Centers, you could eat 500 bracts with no ill effects.

√ During the dance scene in "A Charlie Brown Christmas," the 2 twins in purple, and the kid in orange with the buzz-cut, doing those side-to-side shrug moves, are no-name extras, thrown in to simply fill out the crowd.

Good Grief, Red Baron! Wrong, wrong, and wrong. They debuted in the comic strip in 1963, and the boy is named 555 95472, or 5 for short. His twin sisters are 3 and 4. He explained: "My Dad says we have so many numbers these days, we're losing our identity. He's decided that everyone in our family should have a number instead of a name." Lucy asks: "This is his way of protesting?" 5 replies: "No, this is his way of giving in!" After a month of numbers-for-names gags, the siblings did fade into the background, used only when extra kids were needed. By the way, 95472 is the Zip Code for Sebastopol, California, north of San Francisco, where Charles Schulz was living at the time, which pretty much settles of question of where the Peanuts strip takes place.

√ The 7th of Santa's reindeers is named Donder, not Donner.

That's technically true, but if you correct someone who says "Donner," don't be surprised if they tell you to go sit on a pine-cone. Here's the history behind the myth-tory…

1823, "An Account of a Visit from Saint Nicholas" is published in the Troy Sentinel newspaper on Dec. 23, anonymously. The 7th and 8th reindeer are named Dunder and Blixem, a Dutch exclamation, literally "Thunder and Lightning!" This makes sense, since we're in Rip Van Winkle country, and the poem sets out the traditional Dutch image of St. Nick, jolly fat elf, pipe in mouth, etc. The poem is popular, and printed annually.

1837, For the first time, Clement Clark Moore, a Bible Professor at a New York City Seminary, is credited as the author. Also, publisher Charles Hoffman has changed Blixem to Blixen, to rhyme with Vixen, and Dunder to Donder, closer to the English pronunciation.

1844, Moore publishes his own version, retaining Donder, but changing Blixen to Blitzen, and this is the standard version generations of children grew up enjoying.

No one knows precisely when the switch to Donner occurred, but Snopes.com found the New York Times' earliest use of that name was in 1906, and the paper explains: "[they] were originally given Dutch names, Donder and Blixen (Blicksem), meaning thunder and lightning…it is only modern publishers who have rechristened them with the German Donner and Blizten." And indeed, Donner is German for thunder. Then in 1949, Gene Autry's recording of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" pretty much fixed Donner in the public's mind, and ear.

Interestingly, in 1947 a German author translated the poem, naming the reindeer: Renner, Tanzer, Flieg and Hitz, Sternshnupp, Liebling, Donner and Blitz. In English: Racer, Dancer, Fly (the insect) and Heat, Shooting Star, Darling, Thunder and Lightning. Near as I can parse it, Blitz is "lightning," Blitzen is "flashes of lightning." Vixen would be Fuchsin in German, but it's replaced to make a rhyme. And yes, the German botanist who named the Fuchsia plant was Mr. Fox. Till next time, Merry Christmas, y'all...see you on the net…stolf.wordpress.com and stolfpod.podbean.com…and rock on!

meet the beetle (4CE reprint nov. 2010)

This is the 60th anniversary, 61st year, of Mort Walker's Beetle Bailey comic strip. Back in September, they ran 2 weeks of classic strips, including black-and-whites on weekdays (yeah, some papers have color strips all week, including locally the Syracuse Post Standard.) Also, a Sunday strip from 1955, showing how Sarge and Beetle have changed over the years. And earlier this year, the Post Office issued a Beetle-and-Sarge stamp as part of their Sunday Funnies series.

Here are some things maybe you didn't know about everybody's favorite boot on the ground, and remember, in November you can see pictures of some of the things mentioned here on my blog at stolf.wordpress.com

You're at the College Now...When the strip began on Sept. 4 1950, in 12 newspapers (today it's 1800 worldwide), Beetle was a sophomore at Rockview University. His pals included Bitter Bill, Freshman, Diamond Jim, Sweatsock, a different Plato, Flash, Lank, Tickets, his girlfriend Buzz Breezy, and his nemesis Prof. Hackle. When Beetle enlisted in the Army in late March 1951, as many college men did ahead of being drafted for the Korean War, the college crew disappeared. They seem to make cameo appearances every couple of decades, last sighted Sunday 9/20/09.

The Early Recruits...It took over 20 years for the current line-up to solidify. Gen. Amos Halftrack, Sgt. Orville Snorkel, and Capt. Sam Scabbard were there at the beginning. Cookie seemed to get his trademark features one at a time…the t-shirt, the stubble, the tattoo, the cigarette butt, each arrived separately, and he settled into his present form after about a year. In one early strip he even has a last name: Sgt. Jowls.

But the original troop compliment was completely different: the big lug Canteen, the country boy Bammy, the sharpster Snake Eyes, Fireball, Dawg, Big Blush, Duke, most were gone within a year, altho Bammy made occasional appearances thru the early 70s. Killer arrived in May of 1951, and became Beetle's main buddy. Curley-haired Julius arrived as the General's driver in 1952, then called Julian. Various one-shot majors eventually evolved into Major Greenbrass in 1953.

Mort has said he tried to introduce at least one new character a year, to keep things lively, and while most didn't last, some became regulars: Zero (1953), Cosmo (1955), Lt. Sonny Fuzz and Otto the dog (1956), Rocky and Chaplain Stainglass (1958), Plato (1963), shrink Dr. Bonkus (1967). The last 2 new characters of any significance were Lt. Jackson Flap (1970, with big Afro hair), and Miss Sheila Buxley (1971).

Lost in Action...A full-panel strip from 1971 showed an "A" Company group photo shoot, and present are several 60s characters who have since been shipped out: Moocher the mooch, big dumb Ozone (even dumber than Zero), and the hen-pecked Pop, a short-lived try at domestic humor…and it's also one of Bammy's latest appearances.

There was never a regular Colonel…with such a large cast, Mort included only as many officers as he really needed, altho there are occasional walk-ons, and one even had a name: Col. Hatchett. Then there are Beetle's parents and little brother Chigger, from the college days, and seen now and then ever since.

The Sergeant's Wife...Snorkel had a wife on camp, for one strip only: Sunday 5/10/53. She was needed for the punch line, was un-named, and never seen again. In fact, within a few years, Sarge was attending USO dances looking for women, so something must have happened...probably Mort forgot about her!

So where is Camp Swampy?…It's based on Camp Crowder, Missouri, same as Rob Petrie on "The Dick Van Dyke Show." In one Sunday strip in 1955, Beetle and Killer get a weekend pass to visit the state capital, said to be Jefferson City, so that pretty much settles that.

Meet the Big Sister...When the Korean War ended, Mort Walker sensed interest in military gags might wane, so he introduced a series of strips where Beetle spent some time visiting his big sister Lois, who had married Hiram "Hi" Flagston, and their 3 kids. Readers didn't take to it, and it was back to Camp Swampy to stay. Still, the Hi and Lois idea seemed to have merit, so a spin-off strip began, written by Mort and drawn by his friend Dik Browne. That's why to this day, characters from the 2 strips make occasional crossovers. Hi and Lois looked completely different back then, and their kids were different too...see my blog for examples.

The Alternate Universe... Beetle Bailey comics books date from 1963-1994, but the Dell issues from the 50s and early 60s are the most interesting because there are many incidental characters that were never in the newspaper strip, some unnamed, others with such monikers as Major Calamity, Capt. Typhus, eye doctor Capt. Bloodshot, frogman Capt. Finny, shrink Dr. Fruitcake, Cpl. Plunger from the maintenance corps, stuff like that. The one non-strip continuing character was Capt. Scabbard's rascally son Montague. A story in 1959 featured a "big-boned" WAC named Drucilla, sort of an early version of Sgt. Lugg.

And guess what? Mort Walker only drew the first 3 issues, and I'm guessing he didn't do the writing either, based on goofs like Gen. Amos Halftrack once being called "Henry" by his wife and other inconsistencies. But the long-form stories, as opposed to the 2 or 3 panels in a daily strip, are quite amusing, including one called "Beetle in West Berlin." No, it's not a serious story, thank goodness. There was also a filler strip called "Vinny the Vet," about a newspaper reporter, but these weren't as good, mostly slapstick. Even a text story once per issue about Froggy Phlippe, a kid who's father is Sergeant Phlippe, but there seems to be no connection to Beetle's world.

Don't forget to check Stolf's Blog at stolf.wordpress.com this month for pictures of the Camp Swampy crew, old and new. I also have a new blog called Deep-Fried Hoodsie Cups, at deepfriedhoodsiecups.wordpress.com. It's primarily for those who grew up where I did, on the North Shore of Massachusetts, but there are things of interest to all Groovy Geezers and Baby-Go-Boomers. And after an unplanned switch from PC to Apple, new stuff to hear at stolfpod.podbean.com is coming…till next time, rock on!

number please? (4CE reprint april 2009)

This month I got to thinking about something else that no longer exists: telephone exchange names. Famous ones like Manhattan's "BUtterfield 8", the title of a John O'Hara novel and subsequent movie starring Elizabeth Taylor. Glenn Miller's tune "PEnnsylvania 6-5000" was the number of the Pennsylvania Hotel; Bugs Bunny spoofed it in the cartoon "TRansylvania 6-5000." The Flintstones were almost named the Gladstones after an exchange in the Pacific Palisades section of Los Angeles. And who can forget MUrray Hill, the Ricardos' exchange on "I Love Lucy."

Others were fictitious, like the Marvelettes' "BEechwood 4-5789" (Columbus, Ohio did have BEachwood.) There was TIdewater 4-10-0-9, a non-existent Norfolk, Virginia number Chuck Berry calls in the song "Promised Land", although dialing 844 might have given the exact time, as it did in other cities. No actual exchange corresponded to the Partridge Family song "ECho Valley 2-6809", as far as we know; yes, there's a web-site that attempts to collect ALL the exchange names ever used, called the Telephone EXchange Number Project. A long-forgotten 50s private eye show called "COronado 9" was the exchange of Rod Cameron's character in San Diego, but it wasn't real. There is a suburb called Coronado, but they had HEnley 3 and HEmpstead 5.

I grew up north of Boston, and ours was SPring; neighboring towns had PIoneer, WAlker, TUcker, and JEfferson. Boston itself had dozens, a famous one immortalized in a radio jingle: "How many cookies did Andrew eat? Andrew ate eight thousand." For some reason this is remembered as an all-night drug store, but it was actually a carpet-cleaning company Adams & Swett, which still exists. "How do you keep your carpets neat? Call ANdrew 8-8000."

In the North Country, Massena had ROckwell, Potsdam = COlony, Morristown = DRake, Heuvelton = FIreside, Hammond and Madrid = DAvenport, Waddington and Norfolk = EVergreen, Norwood = FLeetwood. Canton's FT6 didn't stand for anything, what was called a "selected letter" exchange. Need to call Watertown? That would be SU2 or SU8, which stood for SUnset. Many communities, including Ogdensburg and Gouverneur, never had an exchange name, and for the reason, we need to know a little about the history of telephone numbers and how placing a call changed through the years.

Many people today think exchange names were just an easy way to remember numbers, but that was only part of it. An "exchange" was actually your local telephone company office or "central", where the switchboard operators and switching equipment were located. In the beginning, you jiggled the receiver hook to get the operator's attention, then told her the town and name of the person you wanted to call. As subscribers increased, they were assigned a number consisting of 1 to 4 digits. A letter following the number meant a party line, usually a W, J, M, or R.

But as time went on, it became clear the only efficient way to handle the enormous increase in phone usage was Direct Dialing, where the customer did all the work. To accomplish this, local numbers had to be standardized to 4 digits, then the locality pinpointed with an "exchange number", originally 2 digits long. This began around 1928. Bigger cities soon expanded to 3 digits, and eventually everyone did. Identifying them with a mnemonic word grew out of the habit of telling the operator the town you wanted; where possible, the name of the town became the exchange name. In cities large enough to have more than one exchange office, they were often identified by the street they were on, which is why many exchange names sounded like street names.

But the number of phone numbers that could be assigned with words was limited: 55, 57, 95, and 97 had no easy letter match. 1 was not used as an exchange number, not because it would one day indicate a long distance, but because of "dial-pull." With a rotary dial, the phone company equipment recognized a number by the number of "pulses" or interruptions in the current ("dial tone") it detected. Dialing a 3 for example interrupted the dial-tone 3 times: click-click-click. In fact, if your rotary dial ever stopped working, you could reach your party by tapping the cradle button where the receiver rested. 0 came after 9, and not before 1, because 0 was actually 10 clicks. But when you first picked up the receiver, a slight jiggle might make the switcher think you had dialed a 1 when you hadn't, so all leading 1's were considered "noise" and ignored.

Also, 0 could not be used, being reserved for contacting the operator. Some phones did have the letter Z with the 0: this stood for Zenith, which was used for toll-free numbers before 800 became standard. Interesting use of 0: remember the "Honeymooners" episode where Alice gets a baby-sitting job & Ralph thinks she's fooling around on him? ("Gee, I didn't know Davy Crockett was so FAT!") The phone number was originally BEnsonhurst 3-7741, but when this was found to be a working number, they went back and dubbed in BEnsonhurst 0, which wasn't.

Thus, by eliminating exchange names, All Digit Dialing freed up more possible number combinations, and this was the sole reason it was phased in, beginning in Wichita Falls, Texas in 1958. No, people didn't like it; one famous sign read "Give Me LIberty, or Take Out the Damn Phone!" (That's LIberty with a capital L-I.) Noted academic S. I. Hayakawa formed the Anti Digit Dialing League, and protest songs were recorded by Stan Freberg and Allan Sherman. But Ma Bell really didn't have a choice. They needed more numbers!

Ogdensburg didn't convert to Direct Dialing until after the All Digit switch had begun, so 393 wasn't assigned an exchange name. The phone company had issued a list of suggested names several years earlier, so the Maple City's exchange could have been EXeter 3, which sounds pretty cool to me. By this time, the North American Numbering Plan was being established to take operators out of the long distance dialing loop, and the whole process was repeated, this time with area codes. Big cities got numbers with low dial-pull, like 212 for New York and 312 for Chicago. Till next time, think about this: how come when you dial a wrong number, it's never busy?....and rock on!

ask cool daddy...(4CE reprint oct 2010)

Ask Cool Daddy...

Why doesn't Olive Oyl have breasts?

Well, sometimes she does. For example, in "Parlez Vous Woo," released in 1956, she's wearing a sleeveless gown and definitely has, um, definition. This cartoon is also interesting for having Bluto WITHOUT his beard (it's part of the plot.) But yes, typically Olive is extremely thin, so it looks like she doesn't. But she's a woman, she has breasts. After all, in the minimalist style of cartoon drawing, not everything is --- why am I explaining this to you? GROW UP! She has 'em. Blow me down.

On the Dick Van Dyke Show, what is Laura's Petrie's maiden name?

Mary Tyler Moore's character actually has 2 different maiden names: At first is was Meeker, her husband;'s last name at the time. After they divorced in 1961, it was changed to Meehan.This was standard operating procedure: consistency in details wasn't a high priority. Popular culture was throwaway culture, not intended to be around 40, 50 , 60 years later. Today you can get a college degree in it. Who knew?

Cool daddy, are you really part Polish?

Sort of. I'm half Pomeranian and half Dalmatian. As Stolf says, "You dog you!" Besides being canine breeds, both are old European states. Pomerania is now half in Germany, had in Poland. Dalmatia was a country on the Adriatic coast, pretty much where southern Croatia is now .Speaking of dogs, what were traditionally known as German Shepherds became very poplar after WW1 when American soldiers brought them home, especially with Strongheart and Rin Tin Tin in the movies. But for a time they were called Alsatians, and in the UK they still are, after Alsace, the French province bordering on Germany. For some, "German" was not politically correct; yeah, they had it back then, just didn't call it that.

I can't for the life of me remember where the phrase "And thats' the truth, pffffft!" comes from. Can you help?

But of course. Funny thing, though, it first flashed through my mind that it was Gilda Radner on "Saturday Night Live," but that's wrong. It was Lilly Tomlin's catch phrase, as Edith Ann on "Laugh-In." Gilda's character was Judy Miller, as in "The Judy Miller Show," and her Brownie uniform, remember? And before you ask, Emily Litella called Chevy Chase "Cheddar Cheese." That character was based on Gilda's childhood manny Elizabeth "Dibby" Gullies, who was a little deaf, big surprise.

I heard that on Hallowe'en you give out those dumb Dum Dum pops. So what's the story on the Mystery Flavor, just a random flavor?

Dum Dum pops were invented in 1924 in Akron, Ohio, and have made since 1953 by the Spangler Candy Co. They're great, are you insinuating otherwise? No treats for you, dummy. But as to your question, there are 2 stories floating around out there, both of which make sense. Story 1: When it's time to switch flavors, they don't shut a machine down just for that, so for a while the pops are made with a mix of the 2 flavors, until the old one is depleted. Those hybrids are set aside for Mystery Flavor wrappers.

Story 2: On the final assembly line, pops that come along unwrapped or partially wrapped are pulled out, and instead of matching them with their correct wrappers, they become Mystery Flavors. Now on their website, Spangler is pretty cagey, saying only that the Mystery Flavor "continuously changes and is not limited to current Dum Dum flavors." Sounds like both stories could in fact be true. Or perhaps they use it to test new flavors. This year I think I'll investigate.

Did the caps we used with cap pistols really contain a tiny amount of gunpowder?

Hate to have to harpoon a cherished childhood memory, but the answer is no. Whether of the red roll or Greenie Stik-M variety, caps had no gunpowder, or "black powder" as we say today, which is a blend of potassium nitrate, charcoal and sulfur. This is not to say caps weren't potentially dangerous, however, but it would take an awful lot of work to scrape together (literately) enough "stuff" to do any real damage, and you'd probably lose interest.

And that "stuff" was a tiny bit of a compound called Armstrong's mixture, primarily potassium chlorate and red phosphorus, sometimes with some some sulphur. But it is a high explosive, used in quantity for pyrotechnics. So yeah, while caps weren't the real deal, they were close. Loved that smell...I packed a Mattel Fanner 50 with that trick swivel holster, plus a Hubley Buntline Special with the black & red swirly grips. Sweeeeet.

For once and for all, are tomatoes fruits or vegetables?

Well, listen, I'm Old School, so for me, tomatoes always were and always will be planets. Sure, they're small, but....wait, that's not...what was the....

Try to focus: tomatoes, fruits or vegetables?

Right, focusing. Depends on how you use the words. After all, underwear could be a fruit, as in "--- of the loom." Botanically, yes, of course, the tomato is a fruit, just as a walnut is technically a seed and not a true nut, and the beautiful red parts of the poinsettia plant at Christmas are not petals, but bracts. But the botany classroom is a far cry from the kitchen, and as far as foodstuffs go, the tomato is a vegetable. Anyone who says otherwise is just trying to start an argument. Try changing the subject with: "Which is the better Ocean, the Atlantic or the Pacific?" or "How 'bout them Bills?"

Generally, fruits have more sugar. A rough but serviceable rule could be: Veggies: salads and side dishes; Fruits: deserts and mixed in breakfast cereal and yogurt. Sure, there's cucumber ice cream, but they're just trying to be smart alecs. Other crossovers include Hawaiian pizza with tomato & pineapple, Waldorf salad which includes apples along with the greenery, and V-8's line of mixed-up Fusion drinks. I saw a cocktail meatball recipe in the paper recently that included grape jelly and chili sauce.

One interesting sort-of overlap was back when gelatin-encased "salads" were popular; I can still see an ad showing one containing only olives, with their pimentos, looking like decranialized eyeballs. So in 1964, Jell-O came out with a line of vegetable flavors for just that purpose. That's right, tomato, celery, Italian salad, and mixed vegetable favored Jell-O. They were only available for a few years. I wonder is anyone liked eating them "plain."

You know, despite all the tomato sauce you associate with Italian cooking, tomatoes came from the New World, and were brought to Europe by the Spanish. At first people thought they were poisonous and refused to eat them. Not as crazy as it sounds, since the tomato plant is of the family Solanaceae, which includes deadly nightshade/belladonna, jimson weed, and tobacco, as well as potatoes, eggplants, chili peppers, and oddly enough the petunia. Till next time, never be afraid to ask...and rock on!

perfect games (4CE reprint, sept 2010)

"Near Perfect"

On June 2, Armando Galarraga of the Tigers pitched a perfect game against the Indians, the 3rd perfecto in the Majors this season. There, I said it. If you're a baseball fan, you know what happened: ump blew the call at first, everybody knew it, he even admitted it later. I say: give the kid his perfect game. Since when can't you correct an obvious mistake? Since baseball, that's when! And I thought at the very least we were going to get some kind of instant replay out of this mess...so where is it?

Since I haven't written about our nation's pastime for a while, I thought I might remind you of 3 other infamous "near perfect" games, 2 duly heralded in baseball lore, and one you might have missed. But first, here's a quickie quiz, with the answer at the end of the column: if you pitch a perfect game, you allow no base-runners, yet your team could still have an error! How is this possible?

On June 23 1917, Boston's Babe Ruth walked the first Washington Senator he faced on 4 pitches. He argued with the ump, was ejected, and had to be escorted off the field by the police. Ernie Shore took the mound, and on his first pitch, the catcher threw the base-runner out at 2nd. Shore then retired the next 26 batters he faced. 27 up, 27 out, and Shore was on the mound for all of 'em. Perfect game? It used to be, now its listed simply as a combined no-hitter...more on that later in this article.

May 26, 1959, Pittsburgh at Milwaukee, and what many (including myself) consider the greatest pitched game in baseball history. Journeyman Harvey Haddix had a perfect game thru 9 innings. But the game was scoreless, so Haddix pitched 3 more perfect innings! Think of it: 36 up, 36 down. Then disaster stuck. Leading off the bottom of the 13th, Felix Mantilla reached on 3rd baseman Don Hoak's error. Sacrifice bunt by Eddie Mathews, intentional walk to Hank Aaron, Joe Adcock homered, but his hit was reduced by rule to a double when he passed Aaron on the base paths. Haddix lost 1-0, no perfect game, no no-hitter, no nuthin'. Altho I love what he always said: "I know what I did." And so do we, brother, so do we!

One that may have slipped thru the cracks: On June 3 1995, Pedro Martinez with the Expos had a perfect game thru 9 versus the Giants. But again, no score. Expos did score in the top of the 10th, but in the bottom Martinez yielded a lead-off double to Bip Roberts. Mel Rojas relieved, and retired the side. A perfect game for Pedro by the old rules, but not anymore...we're getting to that.

How many perfect games have been lost in the final at bat? The answer is 10, of which 8 were "clean," a base hit by the 27th batter. No doubt Yankee fans will recall Boston's Carl Everett and his 2-strike single off Mike Mussina in 2001. The other 2 finished up as no-hitters. On July 4 1908, Hooks Wiltse of the Giants hit the 27th Phillie he faced, settling for a 10-inning no-hit win. More controversial was the Cubs-Padres game of Sept 2 1972. The 27th batter, pinch-hitter Larry Stahl, worked the count full against Chicago's Milt Pappas, then walked on a borderline pitch. Pappas got his no-hitter, but never forgave the ump, who happened to be sophomore Bruce Froemming, who went on to umpire 35 more years, and call 10 more no-hitters.

Now losing a perfect game or even a no-hitter in the 9th inning is a tough break. Losing it long after the game is over sounds nuts, but on Sept 4 1991, 50 no-hitters disappeared from the record books, as Fay Vincent’s Committee for Statistical Accuracy re-defined a no-hitter. The old rule was: after 9 innings, the meter stopped running and your no-hitter was in the books, no matter what happened in extra innings. The committee changed that: however many extra innings the game went, it had be hitless (or perfect) for all of them or no cigar. This has some logic to it, but there was logic to the old way too. 12 such no-hitters were expunged. The new rule also required a minimum of 9 innings, thus dumping 38 more, including 3 "perfect games" that went only 5 innings, and one that went 7.

I think the 9-inning no-hitters should have stayed. Some players lost the only no-hitter they had. Or take the case of Jim Maloney (who should be in the Hall of Fame!) He was formerly credited with 3 no-hitters: one of 9 innings, one of 10 innings, and one that was hitless thru 10, hit in the 11th. Now of course he only has 2. Both those 10-inning hitless efforts came in 1965, a little over 2 months apart. Pretty smooth if you ask me.

I do agree that those less-than-9-inning no-hitters deserved to go, especially one by the Giants' Mike McCormick on June 12 1959. He pitched 5 hitless innings against the Phillies, then allowed a hit in the 6th. The game was called due to rain, with official stats reverting back to the 5th, and thus a no-hitter for Mike! Now in all fairness, this wasn't his fault, but talk about a cheapie!

But worst of all is the case of a visiting pitcher losing a game, and since the home team didn't bat in the 9th, pitching only 8 innings, but at the same time allowing no hits! 3 such games were wiped out in the 1991 purge, including Yankee Andy Hawkins' weird 4-0 no-hit loss to Chicago in 1990. In 1992 Matt Young also lost an 8-inning no-hitter on the road, 2-1 to Boston. Mind you, in such a case the pitcher IS credited with a complete game! Common sense says that's a no-hitter.

Then you have what I call a "back-end perfect game." This is where the pitcher surrenders a hit to the lead-off batter, then retires the next 27. It's not mentioned anywhere in the record book, obviously, but it's happened 3 times: Robin Roberts (Cin-65), Jerry Reuss (SF-80), and Jim Bibby (Atl-81). Wild, no?

Finally, on another stat entirely: I know of only 2 players to hit 20+ homers in a season, but fail to have at least twice as many RBIs: Kevin Maas 21/41 (Yanks-90) and Chris Duncan 22/43 (Cards-06). (Mark McGwire's half-season with the Cards in 1997, he was 24/42, but he had enough RBIs with Oakland to make up for it.). For 30+, closest appear to be Rob Deer 32/64 (Detroit-92) and Hanley Ramirez 33/67 (Miami-08.)

QUIZ ANSWER: An error is defined as a fielding muff that results in either the batter getting on base, or his time at bat being prolonged. That second part is just a fancy way of saying an error can be given on a foul ball, for example, an easy pop foul that drops out of the first baseman's glove. E3, but no base-runner, hence perfect game! Till next time, watch that invisible man on 3rd, and rock on!

PS....Can't get enough of Stolf? Force yourself, or better yet, check out my daily blog at stolf.wordpress.com. And Cool Daddy, the Weird Beard to the Feared, joins yours truly at stolfpod.podbean.com and thewholething.podbean.com. Listen often, and you'll always have good luck!

more mayberry trivia (4CE reprint, aug 2010)

10 MORE Things You Didn't Know About Mayberry


(1) Where in North Carolina is Mayberry supposed to be located? That's the $64,000 question, and worthy of an entire column. For now, I'll tell you where Mayberry ISN'T. It isn't where Andy Griffith's home town of Mt. Airy is, near the northwest border with Virginia. He has said Mayberry IS NOT meant to be Mt. Airy, although he acknowledges that most people think it is. Yes, there is a nearby town called Pilot Mountain. Yes, several times Andy is reading a Mt. Airy newspaper, although usually it's the Mayberry Gazette. Yes, a handful of real-life Mt Airy people and places are mentioned on the show. But there's one big problem.

Mayberry is time after time said to be SOUTH of Raleigh, the state capital, and Mt. Airy is NORTH. Sure, Mayberry is occasionally north of Raleigh, too; in at least one episode it's BOTH! But this is typical: not all the places mentioned on the show are real, and the real ones aren't always where they're supposed to be. Nobody kept track, it seems.



(2) But while we're on the subject, Mt. Airy is also the home town of singer Donna Fargo, and the adopted home of the original Siamese twins, Chang and Eng Bunker. Don't confuse Mt. Airy with Mt. Idy, the fictional town made famous by Cliff Arquette as "Charlie Weaver." The routine was inspired by a friend of his mother's, whose letters from Mount Ida, Arkansas she would read aloud to the family.



(3) "What did the mirror say to the dresser?"...Aunt Bee poses this riddle once, but doesn't give the answer. In an interview, the writer said that's because it was a little racy, at least for her: I DON'T MEAN TO CAST REFLECTIONS, BUT YOUR DRAWERS ARE OPEN.


(4) "Never Hit Your Grandma With a Great Big Stick"...Dud suggests this song for the Darlings to play, but it always makes Charlene cry. The title is no doubt inspired by a real Spike Jones song "Never Hit Your Grandma with a Shovel." Good advice, generally speaking. (I don't know your grandma.)


(5) "Gilligan's Island" connection...In the second season episode "The Farmer Takes a Wife," The Skipper, Alan Hale Jr., is a farmer who continually calls Barney "Li'l Buddy" (!!!) And on March 30, 1964 Bob Denver took over the role of Charlene's husband Dudley Wash. He would star as Gilligan in the fall, and the network wanted to remind viewers what Maynard G. Krebbs looked like without the beard.


(6) Opie's name?...The standard answer is it's from Opie Cates, a band-leader and radio actor born Opal Taft Cates, whom Andy & producer Sheldon Leonard are said to have listened to. But then there's Opie Lee Shelton, real-life boyhood friend of Andy Griffith. Also, on "Dennis the Menace," a year before "Andy Griffith Show" debuted, Dub Taylor played a handyman named Opie Swanson in 3 episodes. Another intriguing foreshadowing: Howard "Floyd" McNear as a barber on "Leave It to Beaver"...named ANDY!


(7) All in the family...Andy's then wife Barbara is in the choir in the episode "The Song Festers," and even has a speaking line. Don Knotts' daughter Karen played Opie's secretary in the TV-movie "Return to Mayberry." Ron Howard's dad Rance and brother Clint (as Leon) appeared in a number of episodes. And Bee's niece Martha was played by actress Candace Howard, but I checked: no relation.


(8) Malcolm Merriweather's paper tree...the one he made for Opie? It's a real thing, various websites have instructions, just Google it.


(9) Famous faces you'll see before they were famous: Lee Van Cleef, Rob Reiner, Jack Nicholson, Barbara Eden, Bill Bixby, Michael J. Pollard, Jamie Farr, Harry Dean Stanton, Arte Johnson, Keye Luke, Morgan Brittany (using her real name Suzanne Cupito), Terri Garr (look quick!), plus "Murray Slaughter," "Father Mulcahy," "Sam Drucker," and "Grandma Walton."


(10) Finally, as promised, Aunt Bee is Andy's WHAT?...After watching and enjoying the show all my life (I just turned 59), the pieces began to fall into place recently, triggered by something Andy said in the episode "Bee's Crowning Glory": "Family's lived in this county 3 generations, first time we didn't wear our own hair." He obviously meant adult generations, since Opie wouldn't wear a wig, so that would be Andy, his father, and his grandfather.

Curious, since counting Andy there are 6 generations, not 3, back to Mayberry hero Seth Taylor, Bee's great great grandfather. And if Bee grew up in West Virginia (episode: "Aunt Bee's Cousin"), her brother, Andy's father, grew up there too, right? And their father, Andy's grandfather, was in West Virginia as well. Yet the Taylors are a Mayberry clan. Something didn't compute. OK, what if Bee were Andy's father's 1st cousin, not sibling!

Andy's grandfather could have grown up in WV, with his siblings (Bee's father and cousin Bradford's father), then moved back to Mayberry as an adult, and there are your 3 generations. But playing the "fan logic" game, is there any evidence that Bee is Andy's father's cousin, not sister? Yes! The smoking gun is the episode "Baby in the House." Bee is on the phone with her niece Martha and Andy tells Helen: "My 2nd cousin." Bingo!

Your aunt's niece could be you, your sister, or your 1st cousin, but not your 2nd cousin. A 2nd cousin is the child of your parent's 1st cousin, and there it is. Bee has no children, but her siblings are Andy's father's 1st cousins, and their children are Andy's 2nd cousins. Sure enough, in another episode, Bee mentions "Opie's Uncle Todd," the wiper on the oil tanker, and once again Andy comments "My 2nd cousin," meaning the son of his father's 1st cousin, perhaps Bee's rum-cake-loving brother.

So there's your scoop. Andy's father is Bee's 1st cousin, and thus Andy and Bee are 1st cousins once removed. Those who assume Bee and Andy's father are siblings are indeed making an assumption, and not once in 249 shows does she, or anybody else, say that she is! Till next time, try to act like some-BODY, you little buzzard...and rock on!

PS: Lots of new ones since last time at stolfpod.podbean.com. Try it, you'll like it...and I wanna get my hit count up! Plus a spin-off: thewholething.podbean.com. And my new daily blog at stolf.wordpress.com.