Open Up That Golden Gate (5/28/07)

It's one of the most photographed things on Earth and instantly identifies San Francisco, so as we note its 70th anniversary, here are eight things you might not know about the Golden Gate Bridge.

 

1. It isn't gold at all; it's International Orange.
2. It was opened to automobiles when President Franklin Roosevelt pressed a telegraph key in the White House.
3. On its 50th anniversary, so many people crowded onto it that the span actually flattened.
4. It is estimated that someone jumps off of the Bridge every 15 days, almost always facing the city.
5. The Bridge's main cables each contain 25,572 separate wires and weigh 11,000 tons.
6. The concrete used in the construction could build two 10-foot-wide sidewalks from Chicago to Omaha.
7. High winds have closed the Bridge five times.
8. Each day, tidal flows send 390 billion gallons of water in motion under the Bridge.

The Man Who Invented Television Comedy (5/14/07)

The 20th century saw artists who broke the rules of what had gone before. In art, there was Picasso; in music, it was Igor Stravinsky; and in television, Ernie Kovacs changed the medium forever. Kovacs began his all-too-short career in the early 1950s, and soon saw opportunities for the new technology that no one else did. His style was eclectic, mixing sophisticated references with quick sight gags. Kovacs would try anything, whether it was spending $50,000 for a 6-second sight gag, doing an entire show with no dialogue, or creating performance art with the Nairobi Trio. Even though he began appearing in movies, he never abandoned television, innovating and expanding what could be done. Kovacs was killed in a car crash in 1962, and his influence has been seen in the work of such personalities as Steve Allen, David Letterman, and the casts of "Saturday Night Live."

Beware the Sockless Menace! (5/8/07)

One of humankind's greatest achievements is the sock. It comes in a variety of sizes, colors, and shapes, all of which are dedicated to the task of keeping our tootsies toasty. As with most advancements of civilization, though, someone usually comes along to throw a monkey-wrench in the works. In this case, it's the (no doubt well-meaning) folks who have brought us "No Socks Day." No socks!? Are they crazy? Sure, they say it's "to give you more of a sense of freedom," but we know what its real intention is: it's a plot by Communists or aliens -- or someone -- to get us to keep our feet unprotected so that we all catch colds or step on rusty nails or... something. We're no fools, though: Come May 8, we'll be wearing an extra pair of socks in order to thwart their dastardly plan. No socks? They might as well tell us to come to work in pajamas, or to drill holes in our heads.

Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival (4/25/07)

Around the world every year, thousands of films are produced. Some are hits, some are flops, but there are still hundreds and hundreds of pictures that are ignored, forgotten, or just plain overlooked. That's where Roger Ebert comes in. Since 1999, Ebert -- playing off his decades of television film reviews -- has taken over a small theatre in Champaign, Illinois and shown overflow audiences the movies they missed. While the definition of "overlooked" might be somewhat strained for Ebertfest ("Patton," "La Dolce Vita," and "2001: A Space Odyssey"?), filmgoers will feast on such rarities as "Sadie Thompson" and "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" (with a screenplay by an unknown scriptwriter named... Roger Ebert). Though Ebert's health has not been the best of late, he'll attend this year's festival (beginning with today's screening of "Gattaca"), if only from the audience. So for Ebert and his movie feast, we give a hearty "two thumbs up."

Raise a Stein to the Craft Brewers! (4/18/07)

Humans have been brewing beer for over 8,000 years. The basic ingredients of water and grain haven't changed, but the past few decades have seen the mass production of barley soda give way to artisanal brews, hand-crafted in flavors from sweet to bitter and all points in between. Today's tastes include ingredients as diverse as chocolate, corn grits, and apples. But no brew -- no matter how tall or frosty -- is perfect, so this weekend, hundreds of microbrewers will converge on Austin, Texas, for the annual Craft Brewers Conference to enjoy four days of seminars (and hospitality suites) all in the name of building a better beer. The days when Grandpa had a still in the cellar to foil the authorities are long gone, now replaced by friendly brewpubs where, even if everyone doesn't know your name, they'll still serve you a cold mug of suds and listen to your troubles.

And Now, A Man Who's Turning 60 Today: David Letterman! (4/12/07)

TV was different in 1982. Most stations signed off at midnight, and night owls had little to watch. But in February 1982, "Late Night with David Letterman" premiered. Viewers willing to stay up past 12:30 a.m. were confronted with odd characters doing strange things and a host who wore suits of Velcro, sponges, and Rice-Krispies. Shows were done from hotel rooms or turned upside-down. Dave argued with guests or brought estranged couples together. There were Top Ten Lists, Stupid Human and Pet Tricks, things crushed by a steamroller or thrown off of buildings. NBC was never quite sure of how to deal with Dave and his crew, and after an epic battle with the network, he took his show to CBS, where he's remained since 1993. Johnny Carson considered Dave to be his successor as the King of Late Night. And so on this, Dave's 60th birthday, we take a moment to wake the kids and phone the neighbors to wish him Happy DA Birthday VE.

Have Fun at Work: One Day Only (4/5/07)

We've heard that "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," which makes us wonder if there's really a way to combine work and fun. No one wants to do drudge work, but there are some jobs -- brain surgeon, airline pilot -- that you really don't want to be performed by some clown. So where's the middle ground? That happy medium that allows us to be productive (and keeps our bosses happy), and keeps our jobs from being something we dread? Fortunately, there are actually people whose job it is to devise solutions to dilemmas like this. Not only have they declared April 5 National Fun at Work Day, but the whole week of April 1-7 is Laugh at Work Week. We can't guarantee that your boss will approve your request to spend the day throwing pies in your pajamas, but it just might help lighten him up.

Walking on Air (3/26/07)

Acrophobics, beware! March 28 is your worst nightmare come true, for today marks the opening of the Grand Canyon Skywalk, the highest man-made structure ever built. The Skywalk sits higher than the Taipei 101 building; higher off the ground than three Empire State Buildings or four Eiffel Towers. So high that one has to wonder if even Superman could leap it in a single bound. And the worst part? The only thing separating those who dare to venture out on the catwalk suspended nearly a mile above the Canyon floor is a thin sheet of clear Plexiglass. Oh, sure, they say it'll hold the equivalent of 71 747s, but who wants to take the chance? The idea of watching helicopters fly under our feet gives us the willies. While it may seem tempting, unless we suddenly develop an uncanny ability to float in midair, we'll stick to terra firma.

The Shot Viewed Round the World (3/21/07)

Murderers don't like witnesses; there's something about homicide that brings out the loner in people. But an attempted murder on the evening of March 21, 1980, wasn't like most shootings: this violent act had 300 million witnesses. Ruthless Texas oilman J.R. Ewing was gunned down and left for dead by a person, or persons, unknown in his Dallas office. The crime captured the world's attention for eight months as fans and armchair detectives around the globe tried to answer the burning question: Who shot J.R.? Was it Sue Ellen, J.R.'s long-suffering wife? Was it Bobby, his brother? Or did his mother, Miss Ellie, finally reach the limits of her patience? When the answer finally came in November, 41 million Americans were interested enough to give the show the then-largest audience in TV history (it still ranks second). If you weren't one of the millions glued to the set to find out who did shoot J.R., we won't spoil the mystery. But we will warn you, never underestimate the power of a woman scorned.

A Slice of Pi (3/14/07)

3.141592 may look like some kind of phone number, but for the mathematically inclined, those numbers have a special significance -- they're the first few digits of pi. We're not talking about delicious baked desserts, but rather the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. And March 14 -- or 3/14 -- is Pi Day! Celebrating a fraction may seem like an odd thing to do, but you know what party animals mathematicians are! Any excuse to eat pizza and drink piña coladas -- and especially at one minute to 2:00 pm (3/14, 1:59 being the first six digits of pi) -- well, just stand clear of the piñatas, pine nuts, and pineapples, 'cause you know where the hot geek-on-geek action will be! But you can do more than just eat; you can convert circles into radians, or go for a 3.14 mile run. If that's too strenuous, though, we recommend sitting down and watching a good movie and eating some delicious homemade snacks.

Chuck Norris Rules the World (3/9/07)

Some say he was born in a log cabin that he built himself. Legend, perhaps, but the one sure thing is that his birth occurred on March 10, 1940, in Ryan, Oklahoma -- which makes him 67 years old this weekend. Who are we talking about? Chuck Norris: the man, the legend, the Internet phenomenon. How Norris grew from martial arts champion and movie star to the guy more or less in charge of the universe is unclear (most sources cite Conan O'Brien's show, but how does a natural phenomenon like Chuck or an earthquake or a hurricane "start?"), but facts don't seem to matter; Chuck is. Any man who can count both Whoopi Goldberg and George W. Bush among his friends is truly a force to be reckoned with. So who cares if he did or didn't count to infinity -- twice? All we know is that at the age when most men settle into quiet retirement, he could still kick our ass -- and yours -- and anyone else's.

Diamonds for Elizabeth (2/27/07)

Today we honor the birthday of Dame Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor Hilton Wilding Todd Fisher Burton Burton Warner Fortensky (whew!), and how appropriate is it that her 75th birthday is also her diamond anniversary? Elizabeth (not "Liz"; never "Liz") was a star from the age of 9, when she appeared in her first picture, and barely a day has gone by since then when she wasn't in the public eye. Despite her ups and downs, she's been the personification of glamour -- and used her notoriety to champion her favorite causes, most notably AIDS research. But more than a mere icon, she's an actress of power and grace, being nominated for five Academy Awards (winning two), not to mention being the first actress to earn a million dollars for a film and ranking seventh in a list of the greatest film actresses of all time. We may not be able to give her diamonds, but we'll definitely hoist a chicken in her honor.

The Talk of the Town (2/21/07)

If Eustace Tilly himself had been searching for the unlikeliest person to edit a magazine about sophistication in New York, he couldn't have done much better than Harold Ross. Despite being a high-school dropout, Ross fell in with the Algonquin Round Table -- the group that defined American wit in the 1920s -- and used their talents to create a magazine that was "not edited for the old lady in Dubuque." Ross was the brain of The New Yorker, and its heart was E.B. White, whose clean prose informed the magazine's style, and whose influence spread far beyond Manhattan. Since its first issue, dated February 21, 1925, virtually every major American writer, photographer, or cartoonist -- James Thurber, John Updike, Dorothy Parker, John Hersey, Ring Lardner, Richard Avedon, R. Crumb, and Truman Capote, and scores of others -- has appeared in the magazine's pages. So, on your 81st birthday, Mr. Tilley, we say to you anything except "the hell with it."

Say It With Flowers... or Bullets (2/14/07)

Most friends and lovers send their Valentine's greetings in the usual way: candy, flowers, cards. But Al Capone was anything but a "usual" guy. In 1929, when he wanted to make his feelings for rival Bugs Moran known, his Cupids didn't use arrows. They used Thompson submachine guns loaded with kisses, not covered in chocolate but in lead. Seven members of the Moran gang met their ends that day, including one who refused to turn stool pigeon, insisting, "Nobody shot me." The garage where the massacre took place was torn down in 1967, and the bricks were sold to a businessman who used them in the men's room of his restaurant. When that building was demolished, he tried selling the bricks individually, but buyers kept returning them, claiming they were cursed. And that lot in Chicago? Passers-by still report strange noises and feelings of fear. One assumes those whispers are something other than sweet nothings.

To Serve Man (2/9/07)

If there's one taboo common to all human cultures, it's cannibalism. Yet, since the dawn of recorded time (and before), anthropophagy has been both practiced discreetly and used openly to smear one's enemies. There just seems to be something in the idea that whets people's appetites. From Shakespeare to Monty Python, we can't get our fill of cannibalism. There are even two musicals about it. What student hasn't made a restaurant reservation for "Donner: party of five" or joked about a distasteful side-dish being composed of Soylent Green? And who could forget America's favorite cannibal, that gruesome gourmet Hannibal Lecter? There's enough curiosity about "long pig" that not only did an enterprising reporter roast some up (it tastes like veal, apparently), but also a hoaxster tried to market tofu-based "hufu." One thing's for sure. If you receive a book called "To Serve Man," run for the hills.

The Golden Arches Turn Red (1/31/07)

In the bleak days of the Soviet Union, consumer goods were scarce, but wise shoppers knew they could head to the local Универсам (supermarket) and pick up some mystery meat for supper. Soviets with a little pocket money might make a beeline to their favorite кафе (cafe) for a hearty bowl of борщ (borshch). All of that changed on January 31, 1990, though, when arch-capitalist McDonald's opened their first ресторан (restaurant) in Москва. Микки Дc (Mickey D's) was soon the hottest thing since sliced хлеб (bread), serving 30,000 people on the first day alone. The McDonald's in Pushkin Square is still the company's busiest outlet, and the chain has expanded to 103 locations, serving more than 200,000 hungry Russians a day. But the Биг Мак isn't the only convenience food option for Muscovites on the go. Ronald McDonald has been joined by such chains as Subway, TGI Friday's, and even the homegrown Rostik's. So if you're ever in Moscow, drop by; you never know who you might see.

Tunarama (1/26/07)

Consider the life of the tuna. Mr. Limpet wished for such an existence: "A fish can swim," he sang. "That's all they ask of him." While its life may seem blissful, the tuna has much to deal with. It takes everything our finny friends can do to avoid the fisherman's net. (Of course, there are exceptions.) Even if they do escape, they still face being poisoned. And for that unlucky number who are caught, the humiliations don't cease even upon their deaths. Their corpses are tossed around like sacks of potatoes and their flesh is subjected to strange recipes. There's even a town in Australia that devotes an entire weekend to the ritual humiliation of the noble Thunnus, offering prizes to the sadist who tosses the tuna's carcass the farthest. With no safety on land, in the air, or in the sea, the tuna may need to take a cue from the catfish and start digging.

The Greatest of All Time Turns 65 (1/17/07)

Have you ever done something that made you want to kick yourself? Or, more specifically, not done something? Today is Muhammad Ali's 65th birthday, an occasion that sent this writer strolling down Memory Lane. In the mid-1980s, at a Burger King on Wilshire Blvd in Los Angeles, what did I see but a gold convertible Rolls-Royce? Behind the wheel was none other than the Heavyweight Champion of the World, Muhammad Ali. The Champ was greeting fans, shaking hands, and generally basking in his fame. Yours truly was certainly a fan, but I decided to forego the chance to meet Ali -- a decision that haunts to this day. The lesson to be learned? Never turn down an opportunity to thank someone you admire, whether famous, infamous, or unknown. Mr. Ali, if you happen to be reading this today, Happy Birthday -- and I'd still love to shake your hand.

Studio Whisky on the Sunset Strip (1/11/07)

Sunset Boulevard runs 22 miles from the heart of Hollywood to the Pacific Ocean. But there's one mile-and-a-half stretch of this thoroughfare that draws tourists from around the world, and few of them are searching for a sublime sunset. Most people hit the Sunset Strip in hopes of catching some showbiz glamour. Even though the Strip has been populated at one time or another by such landmarks as Schwab's Drugstore, the Garden of Allah, Tower Records, Dudley Do-Right's Emporium, the Comedy Store, the Chateau Marmont, and a forest of billboards, the heart of the Boulevard may be the Whisky a Go-Go, which opened on January 11, 1964. The Whisky was the first American incarnation of the French revolution called the discotheque and featured young hipsters, go-go girls, and a house band known as The Doors. Rival clubs such as the Roxy and the Rainbow soon sprang up, weathering such musical revolutions as the British Invasion, punk, and metal. Genres come and go, but the sun has not yet set on the Whisky.

Dangerous Toys, My Eye! (12/24/06)

Every year about this time, some group of buttinsky do-gooders comes along with a list of "dangerous" toys that parents should avoid just because some kiddie somewhere might swallow something or put an eye out. When we were growing up, we weren't softies like these kids today. Our toys were hazardous. They were rusty. They gave us splinters. They exploded or stabbed us. We played with chemistry sets and concocted all sorts of toxic stuff -- and we'd eat it. We had Thingmakers that would melt Plastigoop, which could burn the skin off your arm. Our Erector sets could cut a finger off. Nowadays, kids aren't even allowed to play dodgeball or swing on the monkey bars, because someone might break an arm. Honestly! You kids today. Pick up your rounded corners, hypoallergenic, flame-resistant, no-small-parts toys and get off my lawn!

Put on Your Christmas Panto (12/21/06)

Every winter across the British Isles eyes light up in anticipation of one thing: It's panto season! But those lit-up eyes aren't those of kids; they're those of washed-up TV stars and C-list celebrities who know they'll be able to get a few weeks work in a Christmas Pantomime. Panto is an art form that is virtually unique to the U.K. They're almost always based on fairy tales (one site lists over 50 professional productions of "Cinderella" alone), and feature comely lasses playing the principal boys, male actors in drag as evil stepmothers, double entendres, and loads of audience participation. Pantos may not be Shakespeare, but they've drawn everyone from Ian McKellan and Danny Kaye to May McFettridge and Joe Pasquale. Some performers may think they're too big for panto, but if all you're looking for is a few songs, a few jokes, and a good night out, you could do worse.

What Do You Get for the Man Who Knows Everything? (12/14/06)

You'd probably never predict it, but one of the things we love to do at the Spark is translating the works of Medieval French writers. One of our favorites is Michel de Nostredame, aka, Nostradamus. Imagine our surprise, then, to come across this particular quatrain:

When the bird has devoured the cat,
And the ass has trampled that big thing with the long nose,
Someone in a cube of metal and fabric
Will write a paean to me on my birthday.

Well, with that hanging over our heads, how could we not celebrate? Mike (as we like to call him) earned his living as a pharmacist, but became known for his prophecies that foresaw everything from Napoleon to the hula hoop with startling accuracy (or not, depending on who you talk to). Regardless, Mike, we wish you a happy 503rd birthday! We'd have gotten you a present, but you would have known what it was before even unwrapping it -- and we hate that!

Hey Lena, Where's the Lutefisk? (12/8/06)

In early December, Norwegians shake off the winter cold and lethargy and start to gear up for the end of the year. Time is short and they've got plenty to do: it's time to get the lutefisk ready! Yes, lutefisk, that unique combination of stockfish and lye that even "The Man Who Ate Everything" drew the line at. But Norwegians aren't the only ones who eat unusual things in unusual combinations at holiday time. In Denmark, it's rice pudding, cabbage, and glogg. Finns indulge in liver casserole, gingerbread -- and glogg. Swedes serve up herring, cabbage, beets, and, yes, glogg. Obviously, the North American traditions of turkey, ham, and eggnog haven't made it back to the old country. Looking at the menu, though, is it any wonder that Santa fills up on cookies and milk?

I'll See You in C-U-B-A (12/1/06)

Fifty years ago this weekend, Fidel Castro landed the yacht Granma on the beaches of Cuba to begin the final battles of the Cuban Revolution. It's a little easier for tourists to get there nowadays, though, and Cuba attracts some 2 million visitors a year. The embargo the U.S. government placed on the country in 1961 has been a curse and a blessing. It's effectively stifled the Cuban economy, but it's allowed the island to avoid overt commercialization and retain its unique character. But what is there for the adventurous tourist to do? Plenty. From the many urban and historical sites in Havana, Trinidad, and Santiago to the natural wonders of the Vinales Valley, there's something for everyone. So, whether you're sitting on the terrace of the Parque Central Hotel or staying at the humblest casa particular, as you puff your cigar and sip your rum and Coke, give a toast to the health (or lack thereof) of El Jefe.

The Risky Business of Attempted Assassins (11/21/06)

Every endeavor or profession has its success stories and its failures, its heroes and goats. This is just as true in the murky world of political assassins. For every villainous John Wilkes Booth or Leon Czolgosz, there's a Sara Jane Moore or a Samuel Byck who failed to reach the upper echelons of infamy -- thankfully so. We would never call any murder a "success," but nevertheless it appears that some assassins are just more efficient than others. Charles Guiteau was an unsuccessful author, theologian, and lawyer, but turned out to be a whiz at shooting a president. Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme, on the other hand, was a rank amateur in the assassin pursuit, failing to properly load her gun before she tried to shoot Gerald Ford. And just consider the case of John Schrank. In 1912, he shot Theodore Roosevelt, but the bullet was deflected by Roosevelt's glasses and a copy of the speech the president was to deliver. To Shrank's frustration, Roosevelt spoke for 90 minutes after being shot and carried the bullet in his chest for the rest of his life. Yes, some assassins just can't catch a break, but it's a risky business they choose to undertake -- and we can't say we feel too sorry for them.

A Mouse in the Movie House (11/18/06)

When Mickey Mouse made his screen debut in "Steamboat Willie" on November 18, 1928, the world went mad for the mouse. Never before had audiences seen animated characters who could talk and sing, and the effects of the cartoon created and directed by Walt Disney were electrifying. It's a great American success story, except little of it is true. "Steamboat Willie" wasn't the first Mickey cartoon made (he'd already appeared in two other silent cartoons), he didn't talk, and Disney turned most of the directing duties over to Ub Iwerks. As for sound, Max Fleischer and Paul Terry had already produced cartoons with either spoken dialogue or synchronized sound effects. But there's no disputing something was in the combination of Mickey's personality and those sound effects that soon made him an international superstar. By 1932, more than one million children had joined the Mickey Mouse Club and his grown-up fans ranged from Franklin Delano Roosevelt to Benito Mussolini. Maybe Mickey was just a heck of a whistler.

The Turtle and the Sign (11/13/06)

Once upon a time, there were two turtles. In spite of being old, venerable, and respected, this turtle couple refused to learn how to read. "We've never had the need to read before, so why should we start now?" As these things will happen, the turtle couple had children, none of whom were taught to read. The smallest of the turtles was able to puzzle out some words for himself, though, and one day happened across a pond with a sign reading "Fine for swimming." The young turtle, happy to see that the pond was a swimming hole, jumped in -- only to be arrested for trespassing and given a stiff fine. As the older turtle bailed out his son, he rued the day he had ever denied his children the pleasures of reading.

Moral: Teach your children to read; it's cheaper than the alternative.

Thomas Nast's Barnyard Politics (11/7/06)

It's Election Day! Time to get out there and vote for (or against) the candidate of your choice. Appropriately enough, it's also the birthday of the Republican elephant. That symbol is familiar to most Americans, but where in the world did it come from? The answer, as with so many iconic American images, is Thomas Nast. Nast was a political cartoonist in the late 19th century who had an influence that is almost unimaginable today. Almost single-handedly, he brought down New York City's corrupt Tammany Hall and its leader, William "Boss" Tweed. As notable as that feat was, though, it's Nast's graphic images that still have currency today. The Democratic Donkey? Nast. Uncle Sam? Nast. Santa Claus? Guess who? So whether you stampede into your polling place or kick over the booth today, give a nod to Nast. And whatever you do, vote. (And if you live in Chicago, vote early and often.)

Mr. Gojira in Retirement (11/3/06)

"Yeah, it was a lot of work, but it was also a lot of fun." The green goliath looks out at his 500-acre orange ranch. "Back then, I could destroy most of Tokyo, take on any number of crazy monsters, and breathe fire all day. Today, I'm lucky if I get heartburn." Godzilla chuckles; it's not the first time he's told that joke. By investing wisely, Gojira (he now goes by his original Japanese name) was able to leave the monster trade to a younger generation. "My son tried it for a while, but his heart wasn't in it. And that kid they hired for the remake? Oi vey! CGI will never beat a rubber suit." Does he miss the old days? "Sure. But, the old gang -- Mothra, Gamera, Kong -- and I have a weekly poker game and relive the past without all the aches and pains." Another laugh, but with just a hint of flame this time. After 52 years, Gojira still has a little something for his fans.

Grave Robbers, Incorporated (10/31/06)

Help Wanted: Completely ethical, reasonable, and sane scientist (though they called me mad! Mad, am I? I'll show them. I'll show them all!) needs discreet assistant for unique recycling projects at a ground-breaking startup. Benefits include private working conditions, flexible hours (must be available on dark and stormy nights), and plenty of physical exercise. We're looking for someone who is detail-oriented and has a knack for jumping in and digging up leads. Get in on the ground floor (or even below the ground) of this electrifying opportunity. Candidates with own shovels and ability to distinguish between normal and abnormal brains preferred. Hunchbacks encouraged. Whistle-blowers and those with scruples or weak stomachs need not apply. No background check. Please contact Dr. V. Frankenstein, Abandoned Castle at the Top of the Hill, Transylvania. EOE.

Bela Lugosi's Undead (10/20/06)

Life in Hollywood for the undead, no matter how famous, can be harsh. Consider the career of one of the world's most famous vampires, Bela Ferenc Dezso Blasko. Born October 20, 1882, Blasko was a matinee idol and Shakespearean star in his native Hungary. But when came to New York seeking fame and fortune, he could only find work in the Hungarian-language theatre. He got his break, though, when he was cast in the title role of the stage adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel, "Dracula." When Hollywood bought the play, Blasko went with it, under his more familiar stage name, Bela Lugosi. The film was a sensation. Lugosi's portrayal was as strong as his accent, and as a result he was typecast in horror pictures and B-movies forever more. Although he never stopped working (appearing in more than 100 pictures), he never scaled the heights that his longtime rival Boris "Frankenstein" Karloff reached. In 1994, Martin Landau was awarded an Oscar for his portrayal of Lugosi, an honor the real man, Hollywood's original vampire, never achieved.

The So-Called Joy of Cooking (10/11/06)

Cooking a joy? For whom? We just don't get the point of fancy cuisine and all those elaborate gadgets. Give us plain, old-fashioned meat and potatoes. We love a good cheeseburger, but does anyone really need one topped with pastrami or made from bison? That's why Irma Rombauer knew what she was doing way back in 1931. She took her file of 3,000 simple recipes to a label printing company, and she baked up the first edition of the "Joy of Cooking." Rombauer may not have been the world's greatest cook, but she knew that simple is better, filling her book with such perennial classics as tuna noodle casserole, BLT sandwiches, and banana bread. Sure, there were occasional oddities: how to skin a squirrel, remove the glands of raccoon, roast milk-fed opossum, to name a few. But after 75 years, when it comes to basic American cooking -- minus killing your own small game -- every kitchen should be a joyful kitchen.

President Wilson -- President Edith Wilson (10/2/06)

The question is often asked if the United States is ready for a female president. Considering the influence such first ladies as Eleanor Roosevelt, Nancy Reagan, and Hillary Rodham Clinton had on their husbands, one could argue that the country has come close to having a woman in the Oval Office a handful of times. However, if some historians are to be believed, the country already had a female Chief Executive -- almost 90 years ago! When Woodrow Wilson was disabled by a stroke on October 2, 1919, his wife Edith virtually served as acting president, deciding which matters and issues could be brought to her husband's attention. In her memoirs, Mrs. Wilson denied making any major decisions. Only a few people could have known how much in charge she truly was. Woodrow Wilson died in 1924, but Edith Wilson lived until 1961 -- dying, coincidentally, on her husband's 105th birthday. Maybe any list of U.S. Presidents is in need of an asterisk.

President Wilson -- President Edith Wilson (10/2/06)

The question is often asked if the United States is ready for a female president. Considering the influence such first ladies as Eleanor Roosevelt, Nancy Reagan, and Hillary Rodham Clinton had on their husbands, one could argue that the country has come close to having a woman in the Oval Office a handful of times. However, if some historians are to be believed, the country already had a female Chief Executive -- almost 90 years ago! When Woodrow Wilson was disabled by a stroke on October 2, 1919, his wife Edith virtually served as acting president, deciding which matters and issues could be brought to her husband's attention. In her memoirs, Mrs. Wilson denied making any major decisions. Only a few people could have known how much in charge she truly was. Woodrow Wilson died in 1924, but Edith Wilson lived until 1961 -- dying, coincidentally, on her husband's 105th birthday. Maybe any list of U.S. Presidents is in need of an asterisk.

Book Banning: It's Not Just for Fascists Anymore (9/27/06)

The week of September 23 to 30 opens another chapter in annual Banned Books Week. All we can say is, "It's about time!" There are so many books being published (10,000 a year -- and that's just the fiction!), we can't keep up. Following the list of taboo tomes offers us the opportunity to get rid of some books and writers we just can't stand. So, away with you, "Ulysses"! No one understands you, anyway. Dr. Seuss: all that rhyming, what's the use? "Scary Stories in the Dark," "Christine," and "Cujo"? Who wants to spend money to be scared? "How to Eat Fried Worms," "James and the Giant Peach," and "The Grapes of Wrath"? These books are totally lacking in wholesome nutritional advice. "Where's Waldo?" We'll tell you where he is: on the junkpile! Goodness! This is exhausting! But the price of liberty is eternal vigilance, and it's better to err on the side of censorship than to find that someone's mind has been irreparably opened... Right?

Book Banning: It's Not Just for Fascists Anymore (9/27/06)

The week of September 23 to 30 opens another chapter in annual Banned Books Week. All we can say is, "It's about time!" There are so many books being published (10,000 a year -- and that's just the fiction!), we can't keep up. Following the list of taboo tomes offers us the opportunity to get rid of some books and writers we just can't stand. So, away with you, "Ulysses"! No one understands you, anyway. Dr. Seuss: all that rhyming, what's the use? "Scary Stories in the Dark," "Christine," and "Cujo"? Who wants to spend money to be scared? "How to Eat Fried Worms," "James and the Giant Peach," and "The Grapes of Wrath"? These books are totally lacking in wholesome nutritional advice. "Where's Waldo?" We'll tell you where he is: on the junkpile! Goodness! This is exhausting! But the price of liberty is eternal vigilance, and it's better to err on the side of censorship than to find that someone's mind has been irreparably opened... Right?

Hail Emperor Norton! (9/15/06)

All hail Norton I, Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico! This year marks the 147th anniversary of the beginning of His Imperial Majesty's 21-year reign. A visionary, Norton called for the construction of a bridge that would span San Francisco Bay and demanded that the Democratic and Republican Parties -- not to mention the United States Congress -- be dissolved. While some may have questioned the Emperor's sanity (he was arrested in 1867), San Francisco police officers always saluted him when they saw him on the street. When Norton died in 1880, he was revealed to be virtually penniless, but local business leaders chipped in for a grand funeral that stretched for two miles and was attended by some 30,000 citizens. He lies buried in Colma, California. To those who doubt either Norton's fitness to rule or the divine right of kings, please note that on the day after his burial there was a total eclipse of the sun in San Francisco.

Who Killed the Black Dahlia? (9/14/06)

This is the city: Los Angeles, California. We were working the day watch out of the Homicide division when the call came in. A murder victim had been discovered in Leimert Park. The woman's body had been cut in two at the waist. All the blood had been drained from it. It wasn't a sight for the weak of heart -- or stomach. We started our investigation immediately. The woman's name: Elizabeth Short. But the newspapers soon dubbed her the "Black Dahlia." Beyond that, the case stagnated. We couldn't get charges to any of the dozens of suspects. The years rolled on, advancing plenty of theories, but they all lead to dead-end roads. Even though the case is still officially open, it will probably never be "solved." Someone, someday may make a movie that will offer "definitive" answers, but as long as crime buffs exist, the Black Dahlia case will draw them like flies to honey.

The Flush Heard Round the World (9/5/06)

Pity the poor toilet. Is there a more abused fixture in the modern home or office? Consider the unnamed substances dumped into it, yet it performs its duty without complaint, day in and day out. And if it should fail, do we take into consideration the invaluable work it does? No, we heap complaint and vituperation on it. Does no one seek relief for the humble commode? Yes! Fortunately for all of us, the World Toilet Organization meets regularly to discuss the latest developments in toilet science and technology; to keep the "comfort" in "comfort station." Of course, even the WTO has its critics, but the organization remains steadfast in its advocacy for the billions of toilets around the world. So, the next time you use the toilet (and you will), take a moment to thank those who are dedicated to providing you with the best evacuation experience.

Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper (8/31/06)

Dear Boss,

It has been quite a while since you heard from me. Guess maybe you thought I was gone. No such luck for you. Ha ha. Today is the anniversary of the first of my little games, I thought I should say hello. It's been almost 120 years since my last job and no one still has any idea who I am or why I done what I done.

There are plenty of possibilities. Maybe I'm a surgeon. I sure know how to handle a knife, don't I? Maybe I'm a royal. Maybe I'm not even a man, but a lady instead. Ha ha. That would be a good joke on you.

One thing's for sure. Plenty of geezers have tried to imitate me but no one is more famous. Time to go. "My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance."

Yours truly,
Jack the Ripper

The International Chan of Mystery (8/24/06)

Midnight in Monte Carlo. A shot rings out! Who do the local police call to solve the murder? Why, Charlie Chan! Chan was created in 1925 by Earl Derr Biggers, and soon became a phenomenon. Known for his ice-cream suits, huge family, and timely aphorisms (delivered in broken English), Charlie was modeled on the real-life detective, Chang Apana. Based in Honolulu, Charlie traveled the world solving cases in London, Paris, Egypt, and even the Berlin Olympics! Despite his popularity (6 novels, 47 motion pictures, and an animated cartoon series), Chan was a controversial figure. Asian American activists claimed he was a stereotype, but Charlie was invariably the most honest, decent, and smartest character in any of the stories. An upcoming film will star Lucy Liu as Charlie's granddaughter, upholding the family business of crime-busting. Such cross-casting may seem odd, but as Charlie himself once said, "Woman's intuition like feather on arrow: May help flight to truth."

The Bird and Other Baseball Cuckoos (4/15/06)

What qualities make a great baseball player? Speed and power usually help. But sometimes eccentricity and goofiness come through in a pinch. Rube Waddell would leave the stadium to chase fire engines. Wade Boggs ate nothing but chicken before every game. Moe Drabowsky crank called the opposing team's bullpen to get pitchers warmed up. Jimmy Piersall ran around the bases backwards to celebrate his 100th home run. Turk Wendell brushed his teeth in the dugout. And then there's Mark Fidrych. The tall and skinny Fidrych bore an uncanny resemblance to Sesame Street's Big Bird, hence his nickname: The Bird. Fidrych endeared himself to fans by carefully manicuring the mound during games, talking to the ball before he pitched it, and demanding that balls with "hits in them" be removed from the game. The Bird's star shined brightly, but briefly, as injuries forced him to retire at the age of 29.

Made of Pen and Ink, She Can Win You With a Wink (8/8/06)

When Betty Boop debuted in "Dizzy Dishes," in August 1930, the world of animation changed its tune. Betty, who began life as some kind of canine, was closely based on "Boop-Boop-a-Doop" Girl Helen Kane (who later filed an unsuccessful plagiarism lawsuit). Despite her unique anatomy, Betty added something that had never been seen on the animated screen: sex appeal. Accompanied by her cohorts Koko and Bimbo and such musicians as Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong, Betty was soon appearing in as many as 15 pictures a year. Fame was fleeting, though, and when the Max Fleischer Studio went bust, Betty went with it -- disappearing until a TV resurrection in the 1950s. Even though she hasn't appeared on the screen since 1988, we can still ogle her on bumper stickers, hula dolls, and even an upcoming Broadway musical. Not bad for a 76 year-old flapper!

Wild Bill and the Dead Man's Hand (8/2/06)

Aces and eights. Ever since August 2, 1876, when James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok was shot to death while holding those cards, they've been known as the "dead man's hand." Standing a towering 6'3", Hickok was a colorful character, even by the standards of the Old West. He was known as a dandy who sported shoulder-length blond hair, a taste for fancy clothes, and a reputation as a lethal gunman. He claimed to have killed over 100 men -- but never "without cause." Wild Bill met his end in the raw mining town of Deadwood, South Dakota, where he crossed paths with such rough-and-tumble types as Calamity Jane, Al Swearengen, and Seth Bullock. Hickok had traveled to Deadwood to earn money to support his new bride, but was a lousy gambler. If only he'd succumbed to some of the town's other vices instead, he might have lived to a ripe old age.

The Real Stanley Kubrick (7/26/06)

How did one of Hollywood's greatest recluses become one of its most idiosyncratic directors? That's only one of the riddles that add up to Stanley Kubrick. Despite having no training, he was directing independent documentaries at the age of 23, and by 27, he'd helmed his first major feature, "Killer's Kiss." Such big-budget movies as "Spartacus" and "Dr. Strangelove" followed. Disenchanted with the studio system, Kubrick relocated to England, where he remained for the rest of his life, turning out "2001: A Space Odyssey," "A Clockwork Orange," and "The Shining," among others. His quirks were legendary: He never returned to the U.S., but was a huge fan of both "Seinfeld" and "The Simpsons." He listened to air traffic controllers but refused to fly. Once his films were finished, he never watched them. Kubrick kept such a low profile that a British travel agent successfully posed as him, despite neither looking like him nor knowing anything about his films.

The Mighty Mosquito (7/18/06)

Consider the humble mosquito. Only 15 mm in length and 2 mg in weight, yet still a health hazard to many, an annoying pest to most, and a vampire in the strictest sense. But even this disease-spreading parasite has its interesting points. The Culicidae (or "skeeter" to you) dates back more than 140 million years, when it hobnobbed with the dinosaurs. And were it not for the New Jersey State bird's ability to spread malaria, Napoleon might never have agreed to sell a good chunk of North America to Thomas Jefferson. Of course, even these fun facts don't mean you should befriend the mosquito. She (female mosquitoes do the biting) can still pack a mean wallop, health-wise. From encephalitis and Dengue Fever to Yellow Fever, and West Nile Virus, the mosquito can spread them all. And don't think garlic can protect you, either. Only chemicals like DEET can keep the little buggers from biting.

National Anti-Boredom Month (7/10/06)

School's out and vacations may await you around the corner -- the long, lazy days of summer stretch on and on. It seems like everything, from cities in Oregon to Superman artists, are boring. Stop yawning! July is Anti-Boredom Month, so wake up and indulge yourself in some exciting activities! You can watch paint dry or tune into a PBS pledge break. Up and at 'em! Get out of the house! Go for an exciting drive or even travel abroad. Celebrate the life of Luca Pacioli, the father of accounting or study the rich history of lawn mowing! See the exciting sights of Kansas or England. Take up a hobby. What do you like collecting? Shoelaces? Barometers? Airsickness bags? Gloves? For pity's sake, there's plenty to do and to see, we swear! So get off of the couch and start doing it!

Tin Can Tourists (6/29/06)

Recreational vehicles have come a long way since Americans started using them to tour the country in the 1920s. "Tin Can Tourists" were blessed with curiosity and a sense of adventure, but didn't necessarily want to give up the amenities of home -- and thus was born the RV. After World War II, such companies as Airstream and Winnebago sprang up, dedicated to giving the motor tourist comfort in a surprisingly lightweight form. Even Hollywood got into the act, as Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz attempted to drive across the U.S. in their movie, "The Long, Long Trailer" (a feat emulated by Albert Brooks and Julie Hagerty in "Lost in America"). And just what do these road warriors want to see? Well, they may start with the World's Largest Catsup Bottle, then the Big Duck, north to Hiawatha, "The World's Tallest and Largest Indian," then the World's Oldest Working Lightbulb, or any number of other unique destinations.

A Really Big "Shew" (6/20/06)

From June 20, 1949, until June 6, 1971, Americans had an unbreakable Sunday night ritual: to gather around the TV set and watch "The Ed Sullivan Show." Sullivan was the unlikeliest of television hosts. A former gossip columnist, he was stiff and uncharismatic (which was heaven for such impressionists as Will Jordan), but a shrewd judge of talent. Among the performers who made their TV debuts on Sullivan's "really big 'shew'" were Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, Sammy Davis, Jr., Lena Horne, Señor Wences, and Topo Gigio. On February 9, 1964, the country came to a standstill as some 73 million people watched The Beatles. As big as that broadcast was, Sullivan's claim to immortality may be the musical "Bye Bye Birdie." More than 30 years after his death, hardly a week goes by when a group of high-school students doesn't sing his praises in the "Hymn for a Sunday Evening."

One Man a Kingfish (6/12/06)

Y'all listen up while we relate the story of the Kingfish. Some o' you know him as Huey Long, but down in Lou'siana, they still call him by his nickname. Huey ran the state back in the '30s, even after he was elected to the Senate -- an' this was after he'd been Gov'nuh for four years, runnin' on the slogan, "Every Man a King." Some say the Kingfish was a dictator, but there are just as many who think he was a real hero to the common folk; he gave 'em roads an' bridges an' schools an' free textbooks. Now, if there was one thing Huey could do, without dispute, it was talk; he could talk a mule into doing the tango. In fact, in 1935, he made the second-longest speech ever heard in the Senate -- took two days to finish. Speakin' of finishes, the Kingfish met his when a political opponent shot him -- or did he?

"Fine" Art (6/8/06)

The 20th century produced many great artists. In the 1910s, there was Picasso. In the 1940s, it was Jackson Pollock. And the 1960s? Well, the '60s gave us LeRoy Neiman and Margaret Keane. Neiman is best known for sporting a ginormous mustache, painting brightly colored pictures of athletes, and never letting go of his cigar. Keane stunned the art world with her heart-rending portraits of children with eyes the size of Buicks. While both were successful, neither painter managed to find a place in the Sears Vincent Price Gallery of Fine Arts, which seemed to have some standards, even if they were questionable at times. It wasn't until Thomas Kinkade hit the scene in the 1990s that we found an artist who could really cram his work down the throats of Americans. Maybe the success of these artists is surprising to some, but as H.L. Mencken once (almost) said, "No one ever went broke underestimating the good taste of the American public."

Mrs. Parker and the Round Table (6/7/06)

In the 1920s, there was no group smarter or funnier than the Algonquin Round Table (aka "the Vicious Circle"). Such creative types as George S. Kaufman and Robert Benchley met daily at New York's Algonquin Hotel to dissect current events, the theatre, and each other. The most notorious member was Dorothy Parker, who was as famous for her biting criticism ("This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force") as her suicide attempts. Mrs. Parker may have met the most unusual end of all the Round Table members. When she died on June 7, 1967, she left her ashes to writer Lillian Hellman, who let them languish in a drawer at Parker's lawyer's office for 21 years until the NAACP interred them in a specially-built garden in Baltimore. Mrs. Parker's mock epitaph, "Excuse my dust," turned out to be more prophetic than she could have dreamed.

Tarzan (6/2/06)

Me Tarzan, you reader. Friends ask Tarzan why English lord speak so badly. Tarzan answer, "Give people what they want." Tarzan speak fine in 1912 when Tarzan created by Edgar Rice Burroughs. (Tarzan even speak French.) But when Tarzan played by Johnny Weissmuller in many movies, Tarzan somehow tongue-tied. Go figure. Anyway, Tarzan is king of apes and of many jungles: African jungle (even have song about it!), movie jungle, TV jungle, radio jungle, comic book jungle, cartoon jungle. Tarzan even have new Broadway musical. Eat heart out, Batman! This good day for many friends. Cheeta celebrate 74th birthday. Live in Valley. Paints. Lucky. ($125 a painting? Maybe Tarzan should try.) Weissmuller's birthday today. Couldn't speak, but good swimmer. To them and you, Tarzan have only one thing to say: Ooohhhhaaeeeaaaahhhh Oooohhheeeaaahhh!

Halley's Comet (5/18/06)

Every 76 years, Halley's Comet returns to our cosmic neighborhood. Even though British astronomer Edmond Halley predicted the celestial visitor's appearance in 1758, Halley never saw the comet to which he lent his name. The most famous appearance of the comet -- also known as 1P/Halley -- came in 1910, when it was bright enough to be seen in daylight hours. When the planet passed through the comet's tail on April 18, a worldwide panic erupted as people feared that the Earth's atmosphere would be poisoned by cyanogen gas. The comet's biggest fan may have been Mark Twain, whose birth and death came during visits from Halley's Comet. Twain opined, "The Almighty has said, no doubt: 'Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.'" Those wishing to follow Twain's example have plenty of time to make reservations; the comet isn't due back again until 2061.