I had just left the house when a momentous occasion occurred. I had sensed it coming, and was hoping I wouldn't be stuck in traffic or doing something mundane. But there it was:
17 years with ol Bess...and it finally makes the milestone. I said it early in its life as a goal, later as an excuse, and now as a necessary part of getting by in a perilous time.
In the early days, I remember it being new enough (hell, just from this century) that it occasionally impressed, if for nothing beyond its "new-ness." I was happy, more so because I didn't have a bad commute.
The first oddity was a unique sound when it idled after the gas was pushed for a while. It confounded mechanics all over town, changing belts (that didn't do it), changing fluids (a rip-off), or inspecting and leaving confused. I put up with it, but it wasn't much fun to have a car where everyone can say "here comes Trip" 100 feet away. That followed with a front mount which seemed to be ever-so-slightly disconnecting, leading to a low-level "hummmmmm" as the car moved along. Again, I put up with it.
What I couldn't have possibly known or foreseen was that I'd keep the car in the same condition with same, well, everything, for its first 10 years. There were a lot of "I should have" moments toward the latter part of last decade, and using my stash for a new car was one of the ideas. But...what? And why? So, I didn't...and Bess didn't meet the "cash for clunkers" threshold, either. So, we were doing fine, surviving...
Until a morning in the winter of 2010 when, simultaneously, as I was driving, the following happened:
1. The right front tire split
2. The right back tire split
3. The engine frame then got multiple holes in it from...what? Old age? Who the fuck knows.
I've never ridden a live bull, so I can't say the comparison is completely accurate, nor have I flown a private plane in a thunderstorm, but it's close. By the grace of god, I make it to a nearby service station, and it's one of those moments where everyone stops what they're doing to take a look. All other mechanics pitch in because, well, this is an all-hands-on-deck moment. I appreciate their technique, but can't help thinking...for this car?!
It's 2nd decade saw trips to the bay area (even sitting in a median while I quickly scanned my phone to figure out what freeway took me into The City, and which one was a direct shot to Mill Valley) and Las Vegas. The Vegas trip was noted particularly for the shock so many in my family had seeing it. "Wow, it still works?"
For the next few years, there were large/larger repairs that made me question keeping this going, furthered by the make itself no longer around. But then, glory be: I get a job 1 mile from home! Those 2 years bought me more than time, giving Ol Bess plenty of time to rest and store its energy.
Moving over the hill has, for the most part, kept a close commute (back when there was one), but a repair of a giant coolant leak gave me a serious lesson: that's the last time, Bess. That's the last time I'm forking out that kind of dough to keep you going. It's too much. Sorry, but it's true. When mechanics tell you to just rent a car for the weekend instead of push it to Las Vegas, and you know they're being honest, we have to start to have "that conversation."
But just as that began, I checked the odometer to see 95...then an oil change last October told the truth: the next one will be 100k plus. Now, it's just a matter of time. And here we are...
Ol Bess...I don't know how much longer we have, but I hope it's all good. We hit cruise control, roll down the window forever tainted by apartment building sprinklers, and let you do your thing. You know these roads as good as I do...where to now?
I'm more than willing to admit that I lost interest in the NBA over the past decade. I'm also willing to admit that, as such, I shouldn't be the one to give advice to a pro team.
All the same, I've seen that they're in the bottom of the Western Conference barrel. How should they turn it around?
Well, for starters, how about finding players that LOOK like that?
If the analytics on this blog are to be trusted (and it's Google, right?) the most popular individual post here on Pacific Gold is More to Come from April, 2012. In it, I admired the swank nature of the moved-to LA version of The Tonight Show. At the time, I only put up 1 bumper card from the New York days. And, while that era of New York was swank in its own right, what I had as an example doesn't do it any favors. So why shouldn't that era get its due?
Well, it should...though the further back we go, the harder episodes are to find. Thankfully, another friendly collector got them from somewhere (who knows if he can't say, won't say, whatever) and I figured this could give another view of the show.
1965. Middle of the decade, early in John's run, and while not all the famous pieces are in place, it's close. The show also seems to be an established hit, so the principals are loose as well. Maybe that's how they were all the time. Hard to say unless you were there, and I wasn't (as far as I know).
I included this not because it's anything special, but more as a "typical" example for the era. It didn't have to be anything more than what it said, right?
That's pretty much true, though the show wasn't (or didn't feel) tied to the "more to come" phrase. View the creativity below:
What's considered the 1960's aesthetic in fashion/design/home furnishing was viable here as well. Not much art could be done with Johnny or his pictures (especially if he didn't pose for any other photos) but NBC's art department was trying to figure out how to think outside the norm.
Not that the bar was especially high. See the photo above, which looks like it's already well-worn. For all we know, this could have been used for Jack Paar, too. NBC had a vested interest in color programming with RCA as an owner. CBS and ABC were getting around to broadcasting more shows in color (why, in a round-about way, promote the competition?).
If you had a black and white set, that's how it looks.
With a swing band in the studio and 1 hour and 45 minutes to fill each night, music took up more of the program than usual. The show also wanted you to stay tuned in case the current guest bored you:
While the bottom photo might seem the kind of art in a jazz club or saloon, the above...how to describe it? Is it the kind of art that was later in Trivial Pursuit? Almost early-Trader Joe's?
As we know, the move to Hollywood brought it to another level. (David Letterman's morning show and then Late Night took it to another, more humorous level) But in the beginning, the "more to come" cards were as slick and hip as the mid-60s were for Don Draper...and Johnny Carson himself.
There are no excuses in deal-making, particularly if you do want to make one. (Wait, is that even a sentence?) So, in times that are good for seemingly everyone but myself, it lead me back to Hollywood and a discussion of current standings and plans.
I wish I was speaking of Conference USA football bets, but sadly, I am not. More pressing matters exist.
As a result, I've been looking in unexpected areas...some rarely searched territory. On other fronts, the "usual" - though not so much to me. Calls, bribes, so on. But we're looking for gold, and if cardinal comes with it, I'm not arguing with the decision. We're also aiming for the future of the biznazz, which was the main topic of the meal.
Sydney kept sending suggestions, I concurred, and they were correct. The night kept moving, we kept agreeing, and happiness continued for all. You can tell when effort is made, and while it kept coming, it was a motivator. We wanted more.
We ambled out up Fairfax stuffed and pleased, but only one of us was satisfied for the future. It wasn't me, and while I have these plates spinning and things are looking up, the shit monkey remains on my back.
Sands slip through...feelings began to meander...thoughts became an unpaved road that end without ending...
I'm at arm's length, but I can't help but be filled with wonder: what's going through this mind? Not what he'll tell me, but what actually is going on in there. We're in the airport taking what could very well be his last flight. He's in "fine spirits" for someone who ripped open a tea bag all over the table (for reasons we can't quite place) and later spit up a portion of his lunch. He then offered up one of his tacos (from the same plate) because he "hadn't touched it." I politely declined, appetite long gone.
All senses are go in a location like this, but I'm getting nothing in return. I offer comforting small talk. Half-smiles, even a look my way. Minutes later, I'm asked if I just spoke about...well, what I spoke about. I agree. He nods.
Once landed, it's an avalanche for him: He says little, letting the squawking wash over him. Moving, already complicated, is met with disagreement or a dismissive wave of the hand. Dinner is a mild complication, as it is these days, but once it's served, ends are met. I decide to give him space, something he isn't getting much of today. A few attempts to make conversation don't work. It's shrugged off.
You learn a lot in situations like this, it's true. Not only about how to deal in and with such situations, but about yourself. It seems far off, but I've been writing on this screed for 11 years. That means I'm over a decade older and you start to see halftime, if you will. What's your endgame plan? How do you plan on running out the clock in certain victory? How much will you let your assistant coaches do at the time? I've seen bad clock management in life. I don't wish it on anyone.
We'll meet again, in a week or so, and if I see happiness, that's a win. If it looks like stoicism, I'll hope that's what it is; when you can't keep up, how do you respond?
Normally, when you drive past the train tracks and see a man struggle with an overflowing, ripped grocery bag of food, you just keep on driving. Any other time, I would. But this time it was Potsy, and he was in Dealville.
The arrival came with two (2) gallon tubs of Brandy Slush. What other kind of signifier would anyone else need on what the future would entail? It was meant as a pleasant surprise, and it was...and my freezer was already packed with items I myself also did not purchase. So, it went in the fridge, while a half-dozen boxes of Kraft Mac n Cheese (because it might not be sold in Los Angeles) lined the counter. It took me some time to begin to adjust my surroundings, so off he went to bar hop and visit an all-night haunt, Doughnut Hut.
Having downed a drink and a doughnut (or donut), we were then off for a Campfire Feast. When you dine with Potsy, you pay extra for the Wagon Wheel Sampler. His steak arrives "smothered." The side dishes contain vegetables in definition only, and the meal is capped with something called "Big Mountain Fudge Cake." Despite the revelry and good taste, my body tried to sort out just what I was trying to accomplish. Potsy? He wandered up to the Holiday Inn and said to the front desk the quote above.
The whole visit, though, was for a marathon day of college football. It did not disappoint. We screamed in joy for Central Michigan's victory, we ate taco chips. We grilled tri tip, we didn't burn down the neighbor's home. We drank sangria, and we watched over (and over) a punt return from the Texas Southern / Houston Baptist game. Dining outside, we all enjoyed the day's good fortune.
And, just like that, he was back toward the tracks. Off to make more slush, off to find more classic car shows with taco trucks. Myself? Well, by Sunday I had a lot of walking-off to do. My body was put through an extra endurance run, this time without the Las Vegas adrenaline to keep me going. The settings may be different, the elements may vary, but the outcome is always gold. This is what we do in the fall.
If any of our drive-by readers have spent time in a monitoring cell, if even for brief stays, you are more aware of current society's scourge more than most. It's a modern phenomenon, and the surprising annoyance comes from all angles. It's a button that's shaped differently from here to there...but the result is the same.
Look at that thing. Sure, YOU'VE seen it...everyone has seen it, millions have used it (maybe even someone you know). But the abuse of this button is something that, in this century, has caused a greater waste of time than daydreams, day-drinking, and...wait, drinking isn't a waste of time.
Anyway, the abuse in commerce and employment hits you in many different ways. "I guess I need to take a look at this." Sometimes, it's helpful. Many more times, it's not. Personal messages sent to everyone involved. Dozens of e mails with "sounds good," "works for me," and "THANKS!" clouding the day.
All right, so you have more stuff to delete. It's annoying, but that's work.
Oh, but if it was only work.
The "funny forward" continues to this day, and the confused have mastered smartphones just enough to do that and install the Papa John's app. There you are on forward #11 of "Vacation Pics!" or "These Rodney Dangerfield jokes are so funny!" OK, thanks...but wait! What does everyone think of this?
"lol" "Hi Carl" "THANKS!"
Long ago, former Pacific Gold writer Drew Boatman said it was "the talk" that sent he and his lady to the far reaches of the Earth. That whatever was said just HAD to be said...and then commented on (necessary or, more likely, otherwise) by all. I'm not planning such a trip...yet. This nonsense is what social media is BUILT ON, so even an avoidance of that doesn't mean you're free. What to do?
Yeah, I'm real glad things are going good for you, Clark. Mmm hmm. No, I got laid off, uh, when they closed that asbestos factory. And now, wouldn't you know it? The Army cuts my disability pension, cause they said the plate in my head wasn't big enough.
Eddie, Clark and Ellen don't want to hear about our troubles.
Oh no, it's very interesting.
Why don't you just ASK him for the money, Eddie? He sure as hell can't take a hint!
Well, I didn't want to ask you Clark, but...could ya spare a little, you know, extra cash?
Despite the malaise that kept my professional life in a constant state of indigestion, it appeared that, in the heart of Spring, that I had won the war of attrition. Business was changing, and it all appeared that the future was bright. Hugs were given all around.
Even if it wasn't bright, I strive for little more than normal in life...and, through that point, that's what I received.
But then, one day, I'm told that hey, it's just business. Not personal. (Not personal to anyone but me, of course) So...now what?
I tell my work contacts...frankly anyone who could help. Try not to get depressed. Try not to drink...well, not to drink more than usual. Try to look at the bottom line. Try to keep saying that "the best is yet to come." Try to sit and nod politely while people say it's a "great time to get a new job" and "you'll get something soon."
It's been a while since The David Letterman Show ended. Dave has since guest-hosted The Tonight Show multiple times and created an HBO special titled "Looking for Fun." (It's a doozy) But, the Daytime Emmys are also this time of year, and the show has already won a writing award in the non-televised program. Up next is the hosting award, and we turn (as we did for every important entertainment extravaganza back then) to Dick Clark.
Yes, he introduces Hasselhoff.
As you'll see in the clip:
1. Even in a "serious" setting, Dave wryly sends-up the task of award-show thanks. Then turning serious, he finishes with another joke. I can't help but thinking it's said with just a touch of "all these months later...seriously, what am I going to do now?"
2. Deidre Hall applauds him off with a warm smile. Can't place the guy next to her...guessing he was on Days of Our Lives as well. Dick Clark smiles and applauds as he takes the stage, but then he did that with everyone, on every show, because he was a god damn pro.
3. Following the award, it goes to outstanding variety series. I'll leave it up to you which is the better show between Dave and Merv. Ricky Schroder steals the Merv clip. Is it let-down applause? Merv's producer is polite, though.
4. Seeing the ads, the early 80's were THE time for soap operas.
So it goes. A year ago (in May of 1980), Dave was promoting this show ahead of time on The Tonight Show, and seemed slightly nervous at the daunting challenge ahead of him. By the time he'd ironed out the kinks, it didn't last much longer.
A year after this (by May 1982), however, he'd be doing the same kind of show, and never looked back. (Seriously, even at the end of the Late Show, the clips weren't exactly overflowing, particularly from the morning show days) But there he is, an Emmy winning host, unknowingly biding his time.
I already had plans that night with my girlfriend, and for whatever reason we were looking forward it. I can't remember why, or what we were going to do besides the usual, when I get a call from a fellow Minnesotan, also a girl, and member of the Prince fan club. She has procured 2 tickets in the 5th row for that night's concert at Staples Center. Knowing that I couldn't make the tour rehearsal show in Reno, could I go tonight?
The girlfriend was disappointed. I reasoned that this was life-changing. SHE went to the Reno show. It's only fair. Honestly, it didn't matter what she said.
The opening act is Morris Day & The Time because, apparently, I have taken a time machine to 1984. I am singing along to The Walk, dancing like a moron, yelling out requests for Gigolos Get Lonely Too. They played it when I saw them the summer before at Hollywood Park. Even just with that set, I'd have been happy. (No Chili Sauce, but we can't win them all)
But then the main event. The music, from the beginning, washes over me. The funk, the horns (Candy Dulfer was on our side of the stage for most of the night). No tiny pieces of a medley here and there. It was full on from the new album, and the past. He pulls out a back to back Shelia E cover just because.
It appears to be intermission...but then through the center of a stage, up comes Prince, sitting in a chair, playing a guitar. See, there will be no intermission tonight. He'll do an acoustic mini-concert, in-between songs shooting the shit with the audience. He defends Kevin Garnett to the L.A. crowd, who just knocked the Wolves out of the playoffs.
Act 2 begins, and we still don't have our breath. He covers Sam & Dave because he's fucking Prince. He does a Zeppelin song because why stop there? At this rate I remember wanting him to get even weirder, and just pull off a Beatles song. Or Johnny Cash. Go for it. Of course, we knew the end really wasn't the end. The crowd went bananas just in case...and the band returned.
The Beautiful Ones. We're right back at First Avenue, singing right to Apollonia, Morris stewing by her side. Nothing compares 2 U was after, but we know why we're there.
Purple Rain begins, and he's putting everything into it. I start, in what little brain I have available at the moment, thinking of the bootlegs of him opening for the Rolling Stones at the Coliseum here in 1981. All the burned out old rockers aren't having him, ignoring his guitar ability, and the audience pelts him with garbage. Both shows. And while he returned to southern California in the Controversy tour to an appreciative audience, here he was all those years later. Sold out arena, everyone screaming.
The song crescendos, and the band holds the note. He waves and bows to each side of the stage, and turns to mine. I look and he's crying, blowing kisses to the crowd. I'm crying. I'm crying? I'm cheering, and yes, crying. Having his music around your life, growing up as he grew popular, always a figure, always reminding everyone of his enormous talent. Moments of your life, the soundtrack, and how the two intertwine, how else could I be if not emotional after a concert like that, seeing a performer like that?
That's what music does to you. And that is what a musical genius can do.
In-between the madness of Stephen F. Austin State University doing what they do on the basketball court and the pile of tall cans in the backyard as evidence of a "typical" St. Patrick's Day, Cactus League baseball is stretching and straining in Arizona. For the National League team at Cameltoe Ranch, the Dodgers are getting into mid-season injury form. Currently, the Dodgers are playing an exhibition against Seattle. In theory, this game should be on the Dodgers-owned cable channel, SportsnetLA. But instead, they are replaying Sunday's split-squad defeat to San Diego.
Just to summarize: A channel only Time Warner and Charter subscribers can see, one devoted entirely to the Dodgers and nothing else, can't even air the team's spring training games live because...
And don't think this is an isolated incident. It's happened again and again this Spring. "[I]t's a reaction based on viewership of weekday games." said a channel rep. The channel cut their game coverage in half. You'll wan't this channel now, right, fans?
The dynamics of sports on television these days shows its value in a multi-platform world. This, in theory, is a bargaining tool for the owners. The Dodgers are the owners, Time Warner the facilitators, and it's should be an easy deal, correct? A "Home Run" for Southern California viewers.
Well, maybe, except for one fatal flaw: The Lakers did it first, and no one cared.
In the Spring of 2011, when the Lakers announced they would forgo Fox Sports West and KCAL, it was met locally with sadness. "It's the future" was the refrain, and that fans would be getting more content than ever before. A future where they wouldn't make the conference finals, Phil leaves for the first time for the last time, and "a new era begins."
After the strike (and while Mike Brown slowly brought the team down) the Lakers have been worse than the previous year ever since the channel started. You can imagine the demand for said channel as each year went by. And when cable and satellite companies decided to pass along TWC Sportsnet's fee directly to consumers, the complaints were loud. Louder than the fandom for this can't-miss opportunity to give the Lakers a dedicated home.
The Dodgers didn't give a fuck about what happened to the Lakers interest when they made their own channel. There would be twice as many games on THEIR channel, and just as the Lakers broke the back of all the cable and satellite companies in "demand," the declines wouldn't happen to the Dodgers.
But those cable and satellite companies had been burned once. Southern California viewers had been burned once. Time Warner was only warm, and they needed the cash. The Dodgers got theirs...8 BILLION. They don't give a fuck.
"Hey - can't see the games? Don't look at us. We own it, but you know, we're a baseball team. What do we know about dealing with a cable company besides getting bags of cash? Would you expect us to negotiate a good deal? How about our deal trading Dee Gordon? I thought so. Call your operator and demand it now!"
And there it is. In 2014, for the first time since the 1940's, there was no local or cable TV for all Dodgers fans. That's progress. So what if it's their lowest season ratings on record, and the ratings for Angels' games grew +49% year to year.
2014, and 2015...and, again 2016. Nothing has changed, the team doesn't care, so...should you? As a fan, should you go out of your way to spend even MORE? Will you be satisfied? Or, like the LA Rams move, will the team just be a memory?
As I type this, I am eating plain pasta. Rice pasta, specifically bought because it helps the stomach recover from the flu. But, I don't have the flu. I'm feeling fine if just a small percentage anxious. Like most, I prefer pasta with some kind of sauce, but I'm eating it plain for no other reason than to show that it's no big deal...totally fine...in fact, quite good.
Just over 20 yeas ago I did this with a group of novice drinkers. They had smuggled in a bottle of vodka and had no plans beyond that. It would have to be done straight or on the rocks (from a motel ice machine). I got the feeling peer pressure would set in, so as the others hemmed and hawed, I quickly replaced the contents with water. "Let's go" I said as I downed the drink to the excitement of the bunch. I later learned a lesson: no on remembers the guy who held his liquor with ease.
Saltines with unsalted tops, juice with vegetables blended in, these are the more pedestrian things, and yet even nuttier moments are done...quickly pushed out of my mind, if possible. Forcing people to do what they should do is no one's specialty.
But you get a smile, a giggle, an uproarious laugh just at the sight, and it's worth it. Or something.
(You'll have to forgive me for not writing about this immediately...I had to take some time to digest it all...)
When I moved to Dealville, the St. Louis Rams were in the NFC Championship game vs. Tampa Bay. In one of the uglier games I've ever seen at the pro level, they win 11-6 to go to the Super Bowl. Being in LA, there was muted LA Ram fan response in the papers, but that was it. Anger toward Georgia (Insert current last name) continued.
After the Super Bowl victory, the possibility of the Rams in LA ever again would only occur if a Super Bowl would be here...and in a rule, the only way to gouge cities for cash and free hotel rooms is if that city has a pro team. So, I went on eBay and began getting items that people were more than willing to unload. They'll never move again.
Rams magazines, cocktail glasses (1 bar face mask, naturally), a cap and jersey all came easy and cheap. In the pre-YouTube era, VHS tapes were purchased: copies of classic Rams games from folks talking about them like they were a favorite but cancelled show.
On the rare chance I'd be at a bar watching NFL games and find a Rams fan, we'd reminisce of the old days. I was playing more reporter than anything, but such folks liked the walks down memory lane. They were swanky days. I'd go home and play Madden (where I'd moved the Rams to LA, naturally).
A little over 10 years ago when this blog began, it didn't take long to sneak in a Rams reference here and there. If this, too, was to give a current focus with a "swanky days" lens, then the Rams would be one of those references. Even if it was under the guise of the Steelers winning their first Super Bowl since XIV, when they played the Rams.
But then the Rams stopped being good. Having Mike Martz as your head coach will eventually lead to that result. So, rumblings, if even for a light joke, for posting the "Ram It" video, occur. More teams played the LA gambit and then get new stadiums...well, St. Louis' stadium is only 10 years old. No way they'd leave now. But the seed is there. You'll note one of the links to the right of this page is "LA Rams highlights" - it's been that way as far as I can remember. We daydream.
In 2012, with Frank McCourt having "no money to pay" the Dodgers, the team was up for sale. Stan Kronke was one of the folks bidding for the team...and if you think he WOULDN'T move the Rams if he had the Dodgers, you'd be a fool. More talk discussed. At a UCLA basketball game at the Sports Arena, Doc Gold and I mused if the arena should be torn down for a Rams stadium. Made little sense with it so close to the Coliseum, but still...it isn't impossible to think that, right? (It's not because, in the near future, it will be torn down in actuality, this time for a soccer stadium for the MLS. I thought LA already had a team, but forgive me for not knowing shit about US soccer leagues. It hasn't happened yet - Bruce Springsteen is scheduled for multiple dates in the arena this March).
But two years later, in news that might have been quiet across the country but was a foghorn here, Stan buys the land of Hollywood Park. A lot of it. The stakes, immediately, are raised. We could talk (and so many on AM radio did, stuttering while saying the same points over and over, slower and slower) but nothing really had to be said. The deal was done.
Since then, oh has it been a pain. NFL owners, writers, all keeping their usual storyline of having the LA bargain chip without actually sending a team to town. Said windbag writers, waiting to tow (literally) the party line, saying it wouldn't "make sense" for a team to be in LA. No one cares about the NFL here, because...well, they say so is the only reason given. "The 2 teams they had left and can I eat the rest of these chicken fingers in the press box?" was the tone of each waste of ink.
So Stan, and those of us who waited so long for the Rams to return, played the dance. We'd either remain mum on the subject, or rapidly educate those who didn't think it should happen. The NFL fan of 2016, and the future, holds no sway. Deals are made, you're a fan or not, they don't care. They get theirs, you maybe get some, and possibly, a taste of satisfaction along the way.
But the Rams are here now. For real. And count me as one of those fans, too - I have to replace the worn eBay items with the real thing, hopefully in proper colors. (I refuse to buy St. Louis era shades of blue and gold) But it happened. Wrongs can be righted. These are glorious days in Dealville.
As I wrote, 2 years ago: Yes. The Los Angeles Rams. This time, for real.
Back in March, I wrote of a work change that I was nervously, yet cautiously optimistic towards...and that it was all OK. I suppose, OK to have that fear.
Well, I was right and wrong. Correct in fear, and wrong in this case, this specifically, because well, I was correct in the fear. That's the easiest way to put it. There's a phrase "go with your gut" for a reason. And if your gut starts to send you grumbles, well, you hope that a fart, a burp, a dump...that will solve it. Most times, it does.
But there are times your gut will just tell you no: whatever the decision is you made, your gut is telling you that you are wrong, that it always makes the right decisions, and just to show you again, it "calls the shots" if you will.
Day 1 and 2 were bad, but I kept telling people that I felt like the lost, confused new person in school. No guidance counselors here, though. No seniors to ask questions or to share advice. I was mildly comforted with the positive statements that it's "normal" and that "it will get better."
Day 3. A Wednesday. April Fool's Day, ironically. I sat and felt a huge sense of unease. This was wrong. All wrong. The likelihood of it becoming right would not occur. I wasn't immediately pessimistic, just seeing something with fresh eyes. This needs to be changed, and fast.
So it's week 1, all done, and I bounce off this theory on professions this time...not the average getting-by folk that fills this town. Not even the how, just the what. What do you think? Do you think the same way I do? It was 50/50.
After week 2, my mind was made up.
The problem is this, and I share this to all that read my scribbling: I once said that real estate mistakes were the worst to make because it takes so long to correct. While there is a great deal of truth to that, there are many ways (even over the long run) to solve that problem. You find another apartment, you sell the house, you move. You know your end date, good or bad, and do what you can.
Career mistakes, those dangled with fortunes, those are the worst. Ambition is a great thing, but unless you work for yourself, someone else decides you can work somewhere else. Hunt, call, write, but it's someone else saying "Yes."
Each day the groan, looking over the shoulder, ready for the inane...wondering why...the best of intentions leading to this and...
(This is the second of 2 parts detailing the end of The David Letterman Show. Part 1, where the show traveled to Cresco, Iowa, is below. With Dave's retirement earlier this year, other collectors put clips, but curiously not the full episode, online. Not knowing if those clips will last or not, the following is a look at the last program.)
Inasmuch as a show can "build-up" to a final episode, I can't remember a time where the show itself celebrated its last episode, particularly one that was not a ratings success. Was some of it being thankful for the chance to do the show? Yes, but I can't help but think this was for the show's fan base. In case anyone hadn't seen the show before and were tuning in for the first and last time, I can't say this episode is typical in any way. Hell, it's not typical for TV in 1980. But there also seems to be an air of optimism for the future, though we know that no one knew it at the time. But enough philosophy: let's get to it.
The Rainbow Grill Dancing Girls open the show in the same costumes, doing the same routine, and the same song that would later be used for the first episode of Late Night. Harve Mann is also announced as a feature guest.
"And now, a man who has been replaced by two game shows, David Letterman!"
Our sometimes cynical host can't help but be swept up in the ebullient nature of the act, and the audience. The crowd is really going for it: a standing ovation, screaming and cheering. It's the kind of response you'd love for your last episode, regardless of the reason.
Oh, and the audience? They brought more signs, and they are amazing.
(TV viewers can be cruel on occasion)
The audience is sitting in the aisles, as Dave thanks the dancing girls "The Silverman Sisters" a not-so-subtle jab at the executive who, while championing the show, gave some off-the-mark creative suggestions.
Dave: Today is our last show on the air. Monday, Las--
Audience: BOOOOOOO!
Dave: Have these people been frisked?
Before Dave gets to viewer mail, he lists those who sent well wishes, including KGW in Portland. He also gets a chance to overuse a game show buzzer next to his desk. Considering his replacement, he goes to this well often.
One viewer letter writes with anger that the letter, written by a viewer in Taunton, MA, was read as being from Taunton, ME. The author suggests Dave never visit Taunton, MA, which leads to a sincere apology and his invitation for the author to be a guest on the show next week. The crowd eats it up.
(BUZZ) "Pretty much all you need for a show." (BUZZ) "Just want to get you folks re-accustomed to this."
Going to break, instead of the usual photos with household hints and the like, it's the resumes of the staff. The symphony orchestra also begins to play "I Can't Tell You Why" by The Eagles, perhaps an appropriate choice for today.
Wil Shriner is out as we return (his resume is shown as the show returns from commercial with his first name "Will") and both men show off their fashions for the 80's
Dave acknowledges they're already low on time, so they cut to the chase and show a video Wil put together of the Live-TV mistakes the show endured during its run. We see phone calls that don't work, a phone call that did work to an old lady who tells Dave "I heard a rumor you were going off the air.", and a shepherd having, well, some trouble:
Dave interrupts the video to say that they have to run a commercial, but someone else on the staff yells out to show the fire clip (which was on an earlier post here on the blog) leading Dave to admit "This is funny: we make mistakes while showing mistakes"
Next out, Edwin Newman and Frank Owens are out giving Dave a chance to ask them about the early days of their careers as well.
Frank talks of his early career at the Apollo Theater and says that the theater no longer has Amateur Night...but a handful of years later, it would be back, and Frank would be the musical leader of Showtime at the Apollo.
Next, the final installment of "Coffee Cup Theater" - a regular feature that showed up more on the 90 minute version of the show. It's the "Suicide Squad" re-edited out of sequence for comedic effect. It's funny, and it's also a time filler. Looking back, I wonder if Dave would have chosen more time with his staff instead of this, but it's only a minute or two here.
We follow this with "Stupid Writer Tricks" - giving each of the remaining staff a chance to perform their own material that Dave rejected. Gerard Mulligan tells a joke and then balloons fall from the ceiling. This seems to be yet another screw-up, and all Dave can do is shrug. The late Paul Raley is next, to do a rather spot-on impression of Dave, and then deliver a joke that was correctly vetoed. Ron Richards is next, followed by Rich Hall. Rich states that the Statue of Liberty says "Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses." "I noticed you don't see too many huddled masses anymore, so we have one here today."
Frank and the band play "Another One Bites the Dust" (another appropriate tune) and we see the resume of Dave's future director, Hal Gurnee:
Dave then introduces the rest of the show's staff to the audience. Producer Barry Sand shows all the phones he's connected to for a live show: the East Coast, West Coast, and his jeweler. Announcer Bill Wendell is next, who also followed Dave all the way through CBS. Bill mentions his first network gig, and a man Dave reminds him of: Ernie Kovacs. Kathleen Ankers did artwork for the show, and also followed Dave to Late Night. (She played Peggy, the Foul-Mouthed Chambermaid on the show)
Bob Pook, who created many of the bumper photos (and did so on Late Night) is also introduced, and it's noteworthy considering he's wearing a David Letterman Show T-Shirt.
More brief introductions to the staff, and then it's time to wrap it up. With the future unknown, it doesn't hurt for Dave to post his resume and headshot as well.
Dave takes another moment to thank the audience, particularly the mail they received, "the only one consistent piece of support on the show." He thanks Merrill, Hal, and Barry again...and now, the ending. Please let Harve serenade you (with reference in the viewer mail as well):
No good-bye, no final words. It's all there: the TV business. We go out with balloons, confetti, an up-tempo version of the theme, and a happy audience.
Years later, it would be easy to gloss over the situation with the off-quoted remark that this was the right show and talent in the wrong time period. That's true, but you don't do something like this without the thought that 1. it should be on the TV air and 2. it would be a breath of fresh air for viewers. A year and a half later, it arrived again with nearly all the same bits at a later hour. The housewives who like it wouldn't see it much, but the teens and college students home for the summer kept those hours. The rest was history.
If Dave doesn't get a second chance with Late Night, it's hard to envision what would happen not so much to his career, but to so many others the shows influenced. Moreover, if he doesn't get that show, how many of these Betas survive? Back then, considering the prices of cassettes, you had to record for purpose if you were going to save something. It shows that people thought a little-watched TV show in 1980 was worth hanging on to years later, but it was a correct prediction.
Being a toddler at the time, I was left to ask my mother (a Dave fan as well) if she remembered that crazy summer 35 years ago. Home taking care of 2 kids, did she ever find the time to watch? Or even remember? Her response was something that was likely happening (in moderation, but still) across the country:
"I just remember saying 'there's this funny new show on in the morning. I like him; this David Letterman guy is funny."
(The following is part 1 of 2, including the finale, on the final days of The David Letterman Show)
The opening alone is different. The gentle sounds of Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again" plays while Dave says to his car-full of friends (we fanatics identify as Merrill Markoe, Rich Hall, and Wil Shriner) "Boy, what a good-looking day."
"Did you see that sign, David?" asks Rich, as Dave continues to take it all in. We're back in the midwest, small-town living, just as Dave grew up with, and you can tell even in the comedy (and though it's for a TV show, a brief visit) he loves it.
Wil points out Black Angus cows which Dave replies "Wow, look at those dogs. 2-ton dogs." Rich reads the letter that won the contest, which includes this point: "Small towns do exist, and we do enjoy ours. We would like to share it with you and your audience."
"Now, when we get in this house, you gotta be very careful not to bust anything." Dave tells the crew. A very high crane shot (one that would make Johnny LaRue proud) shows 2 cars (Dave's Crew, and Frank Owens and the rest of the David Letterman Symphony Orchestra) stop along a dirt road to a house.
Everyone rushes inside, and Dave stops to tell the viewers that we're in the lovely countryside of Eastern Iowa, just a couple of miles from Cresco. These are the winners of the contest to host the show in their own home: The Goldsworthy family: Howard, Jane, and daughters Greta and Gina. Beyond meeting the family and showing the sights of Cresco, Cloris Leachman and her daughter Dinah Englund are the guests, along with the rest of the gang.
After meeting the family, Howard Goldsworthy points out items which are not normally in their yard: all these people, a new electricity pole, and a production truck, which we can see bearing the original ESPN logo!
The camera very quickly pans along the yard to show the scenery while Dave asks them what life is like in Cresco. Jane points out there are a lot of things to do, "sometimes more than the city." Dave can't help but ask "Like what?" and she mentions card parties, snowmobiling in the winter, and the wonderful people. Howard describes the 80 acres they have, which Dave follows up if there is anything special they'd like to do that day. Howard replies "I'd like to eat that turkey cooking in there!"
As Dave enters the house we see some folks sitting in an adjacent room looking at a monitor - yes, it brought out everyone to the Goldsworthy home. Dave moves to the living room, the band begins the theme, and away we go.
Just the mere set-up sends the show into a commercial break, and we see Frank playing the family's upright piano. Going to break, we also have the running question to Cresco residents: Have you ever tried Winky's Cow Paste? He asks one farmer who replies, as one would "I don't know if I ever have or not."
Jane's parents are in the front row as well, and the audience, if a bit bewildered by the whole thing, applauds as needed.
Cloris comes out from the kitchen to talk of life as a child in Iowa, and as both speak of the beautiful landscape, Dave remarks that they might just do the show here every day, which again sends the living room audience into great applause. The sight of a TV show apparently interests the local wildlife as you might be able to see in the background:
Life was hard growing up in the country during the depression, so any way out of that, mentally or otherwise, helped Cloris cope. Piano lessons and the like were just part of it, all leading to her entering Northwestern and her acting career.
Another Cresco local, this time a teen, is asked about Winky's Cow Paste.
He hasn't tried it before, so Dave asks if he'd like to try a can. "I s'pose."
Dinah comes out with some prompting from Cloris, who Cloris claims is here so that she won't be alone. Dinah, at the time was in her early teens, says she'd like to be a dancer. Asked if they'll stay for the rest of the show, Cloris hopes so: she wants some of the dinner cooking in the kitchen.
Later in the show, Dave reminds the family they'll also receive a RCA video recorder and a television, leading us to a tour of the town.
Sheriff Gary Cleveland not only works in the jail, he lives there, too. He considers living there "very comfortable" and he's not nervous while a prisoner is there as well. As sheriffs go, Gary's responses are to the point. Noticing a BBQ near the front, Dave asks if he ever has prisoners join him in a cook-out. "No, sir."
Next, while looking through a park in town, Dave shows the various statues, including one, which...
Well, it defies description, especially since there IS no description. He asks the locals if they know, but most of them don't, leading to more confusion.
A teen: "I think it's a bomb."
A farmer: "This is a water mine sitting on top of a coal cart."
A man: "I don't know what that is."
A kid: "A statue."
Next to it, is the centennial time capsule. Asking residents what's inside draws the same kind of response. One local, however, does know there's a photo of her inside, from that centennial celebration, as she won the pancake race.
"Well, they give you a hard, dry pancake, and an iron frying pan, and in fact we ran down this park, and flipped it 3 times. I was able to flip it 3 times and run the fastest. As a prize, I received an electric can opener."
Dave next visits the Total Look Beauty Salon in Cresco, still around 35 years later. The Total Look in Cresco today, as shown by owner Pam Burnikel, is a long, curly perm. The model likes it: easier for the winter.
Finishing the tour, we visit Ellen Church Field, named after the first female flight attendant. Wil comes out and talks about flying in there from Kansas City, where he made a video for NBC's pregame coverage of the World Series. "I think you missed a lot of the activity because when I flew in, boy, 747's backed up."
We end the show with Cresco Stupid Pet Tricks. We have a dog that's willing to be spun in the air. a poodle that can jump over a pole between his owner's legs:
...a 4 month-old goat walking through a hoop, and finally, a hog "doing a strip act" for its owners Matthew and Maria Ryan. The pig escapes immediately, and then takes a wizz on the Goldsworthy's lawn. Long ago, Matthew put the clip on YouTube, and thankfully, it's still around. Screen captures will not do this any good:
Dave thanks the family once again for their help, and we close the show by walking around the streets of Cresco. Ed Clark, the secretary of the chamber of commerce for Cresco, joins Dave for a walk down south Elm street. Regular folks and dignitaries for the city are there, all excited to meet Dave. Dave asks what's next for Cresco, and the president of the chamber of commerce states "We're hoping we can save the David Letterman show." Dave glumly replies "Let's focus on something more realistic. How about casino gambling?"
We finish with a look inside the car of Keith and Sherry (Sheri?) - newlyweds fresh from the church. Dave asks where their off to, and they say they're going to Tower Club to drink some beer.
What a finish.
Afterwards:
In my quest for finding Dave morning shows, this for many years was the most elusive, with few details provided other than the town. I finally was able to find a polite collector who had a copy - the quality wavered quite a bit, but no complaints here.
The participants:
In 1990, Wil was a guest on Late Night, and showed Dave a photo which was quickly snatched away. "You might as well show it" Dave said as the audience egged him on. Here's Wil's pic:
Earlier this year, on the occasion of Dave's retirement, the Des Moines Register caught up with Jane Goldsworthy. It's not only a great look back in time, but fun to read their memories and thoughts 35 years later. As Jane said, "It's nice as average Joes to have a little claim to fame."
We're down to just 1 full week left, and those angels on earth who had Betas laying around KNEW more had to be done to commemorate The David Letterman Show in its fading run. But, as announcer Bill Wendell announces, we're taped today: Dave and the crew are on their way to Iowa to do the show from someone's home. We'll see that episode next week. In the meantime...
The shot dissolves to Dave as you see a giant sign reading "Don't Let David Letterman become Extinct. KEEP HIM" Maybe they thought he'd be embarrassed.
"Boy, do you look familiar!" says Dave, using what is clearly Thursday's audience who were bound and gagged. Catherine Deneuve is the feature guest, which elicits "WOOOO!" from the audience, mostly the men.
After Catherine comes out she tells Dave "not so fast" since she regularly speaks French. This changes the course of the interview immediately, and Dave starts with basic questions: the comparison between American and French women, her looks, and that she was married.
Dave: One day, would you give up your world fame and become a married person again?
Catherine: Why not? Is that an offer?
This sends the audience into "ooooo!" and applause - Dave can only react with...
In town to promote what would become an Oscar-nominated film, The Last Metro, her interview is cut short in the second segment as Frank begins to play the piano - when we return, she's off the set.
Next is an odd segment: Dave flying a TWA flight simulator. Now, bearing in mind 1980 video and technology, it's tough to really tell what's happening beyond the two of them talking:
Dave: "I believe I'm ready for my complimentary cocktail."
While Dave and the pilot go through some of the standard checks, Dave laments "this takes the fun out of a trip." In this simulation, two engines are up in flames, and they fly back to New York. I don't mind saying they could have just flashed FILLING TIME on the screen and we'd feel the same.
Now we're back in studio for fun stuff: mail-order catalog orders. Intriguing items such as an egg cuber
Dave: "That's it?! Oh, come on."
"Magic Rocks" ("rocks" that are multiple colors that slowly leak in water), and the album "Sebastian Speaks" (a dog barking for 30 minutes - "Your watchdog on a disc!"). Dave reminds viewers to look for the album "Sebastian Takes a Dump" - and "Dump" gets edited out. Considering the out of control laughter that comment brings, it's good NBC kept America safe.
Next is guest Earl Mindell, the author of "The Vitamin Bible" - and it's a topic that was heavy on the show. Despite the comedy leanings, they knew they still had to include guests that were thought to be focused to the Daytime ("Housewives" - NBC's thinking) viewer. The vitamin aspect was something that was reported to annoy Dave. ("Have we had B-12 on yet?" he said in one meeting)
Earl shows Dave a small package of vitamins he takes each day while travelling, leading Dave, looking at the clear bag of pills to ask "Is this OK to buy on the street?" After they talk about vitamins and using them to battle Depression, Dave seems to get serious and focused, asking on the specific differences in lifestyle with and without different vitamins.
After the break, however, it seems as if Dave is just rattling of questions from the card. Earl dutifully answers them, of course, but I can't say I blame him - Dave energy-wise, after doing 2 episodes in the morning, seems wiped out.
After saying goodbye, and again to fill time, we get an extended version of the credits.
Dave's own groupies are here: This girl wearing an "I Love David Letterman" T-shirt, and another wearing one that's black. We can only guess if they had time to chat with their favorite TV star, but we hope so - there's only 1 week to go. Who knows of the future?
It was joked about, discussed, and wondered by fans for months. Richard Dawson would make fun of it in his brief monologue before Family Feud. Tom asked Dave during his visit. And now, the hammer comes down. Let Mike Drew of the Milwaukee Journal tell the tale.
A spokesman from NBC is quoted that the network is "seeking a time period more suitable to Letterman's talents." In time, they did. For the meantime, Dave's show will run through October 24th (ensuring they can do the show from someone's home) before it's replaced with the game shows Blockbusters and Las Vegas Gambit.
Other items of note to Journal readers: don't miss the story on Agent Orange on WITI-TV's news. Also, apparently October 18th is "Sweetest Day," so visit your florist.
Now that the news is official, you're going to get an even looser tone in the show, as well as an emotional audience. Look for another episode later this week.
