I had to wait a week until I began this update. I waited out of respect for England. I waited until their national week of mourning was over. I waited until the flags over Buckingham, Windsor, and Westminster Abbey were no longer at half-staff. I waited until the few remaining British soldiers in Iraq were no longer openly weeping in each other's arms. Because England is one of our staunchest allies, I waited until England could look itself in the eye, and whisper down the Thames to its broken-hearted citizens, "Jade Goody is dead." Now, like King James I, William Shakespeare and Winston Churchill, Jade Goody belongs to the ages. She will, however, be just an arms length away when she is laid to eternal slumber in Poet's Corner and her image will forever be available for viewing on a wall at the National Portrait Gallery.

Can you believe how low Great Britain has sunk. I mean, the Prime Minister goes on television after Jade Goody gets voted off the planet ... and he commends her for waging a courageous battle against cervical cancer. Could you imagine George W. Bush going on U.S. television and commending Anna Nicole Smith for her courageous battle against the methadone? What the fuck happened to great, proud England? I understand these people even put sodomy on hold for a week.

It's un-fucking-believable. England, that once held the Seven Seas, and now they can't even hold their own water. Great Britain has pissed itself blind over the death of some brainless bimbo who was once voted off one of their corny, lame-ass reality television shows.

On the other hand, EdV, J.D., Johnnyb, Sarndra and Yersinia Pestis all saw the 27-year-old for what she was worth. 22 points. First. Hit. Ever. for Sarndra and she's already in the top 10.

(And, everyone gets an additional 25 points — Jade was the youngest Hit of the Year)

(Schenley, of course.) 

He was the first coach for the Boston Patriots, now the New England Patriots, and being the last AFL franchise to form, instead of drafting college players, Lou Saban built the Boston team by signing bricklayers, welders, carpenters and longshoremen.

He went 5 and 9 and out.

For two years (1982-1983) he was president of the New York Yankees, but he was a football coach. A coach who changed jobs as often as George Steinbrenner changed managers. Lou Saban, who has died at 87, coached at Case Institute (1950-52), University of Washington (1953), Northwestern (1954-55), Western Illinois (1957-59), the Patriots (1960-61), Buffalo Bills (1962-65), the University of Maryland (1966), Denver Broncos (1970-71), back to the Bills (1972-76), University of Miami (1977-78), Army (1979), Georgetown (South Carolina) High School (1980), University of Central Florida (1983-84), Peru State College (1991), the Milwaukee Mustangs (1994) of the Arena Football League, SUNY Canton (1995-2000) and Chowan University (2001-02).

Among all those coaching jobs, there was the job with Steinbrenner, building the football program at Alfred State University and offending folks. In April of 1979, Saban, who was the head coach at the University of Miami, was told three of his players threw a Jewish man into a lake. Saban replied: "Well, that sounds like fun." Miami + large Jewish population = a get-the-fuck-outta'-town bus ticket.

Monarc, a new player this year, thought throwing the well-traveled football coach into the AO Deadpool sounded like fun, too. He gets five points for the shove and an extra five for watching the splash all alone. Total: 10.

(Schenley) 

Carl Furillo, the late Brooklyn Dodgers outfielder, so hated the New York Giants and their thieving manager_[1] Leo Durocher, that he charged into the Giants clubhouse and challenged The Lip to a fight. When asked about the Giants players, Furillo called them the "dirtiest" in baseball, and added that he thought Herman Franks was "one of the worst."

Franks, who was 95 when he died in March of this Deadpool year, probably *was* one of the worst. Franks won't be remembered for his lifetime batting average that couldn't crack the Mendoza Line, and he won't be remembered for the three home runs he hit for four teams in six seasons. And it is also doubtful that his 43 career runs-batted-in will bring back many fond memories. No. Herman Franks will be remembered for not being on the New York Giants bench on October 3rd 1951, when Bobby Thomson hit The Shot Heard 'Round The World.

Franks was in the Giants centerfield clubhouse with a telescope, relaying signs to backup New York catcher Sal Yvars by way of radio. Yvars would then signal the Giants base coaches who would then pass a sign to the hitter (Bobby Thomson). New York Giants 5, Brooklyn Dodgers 4.

We don't know if Dead Batteries was getting radio signals from Herman's deathbed, but we do know he's entitled to two points for the hit and another five bonus points for rounding the bases in the last inning of the 2009 game ... all by himself.

Total: 7.
 

[1] Durocher was accused of sneaking into Babe Ruth's locker area and stealing a watch from Ruth's pants pocket.

(Schenley) 

Raúl Alfonsín, the former president of Argentina, was a good man. When you're talking about a leader of a South American country, the synonym for "good man" is "saint." For his victory marked the end of the military dictatorship and the beginning of real democracy. He launched a truth commission to investigate the disappearances and murders that were all too common during the dictatorship that preceded him. Trials he organized actually found guilty people guilty. He didn't steal. He wasn't corrupt. He didn't pack the Supreme Court with cronies. These are saintly qualities in a place like Argentina, but they weren't good enough to keep him in office during the hyper-inflationary times he presided over. The father of the democracy that remains in Argentina left office early, a failure. Nevertheless, as Alfonsín lay in state, many thousands took time off, traveled long distances, lined up for hours to pay their respects to what they knew as a good man.

Raúl Alfonsín died last week at 82. Johnnyb gets another hit pretty quickly and a classy one at that. Much classier than the last hit. He gets 5 for the hit and 5 for the solo.

Total: 10. 

There were excellent reasons for calling him Pop, namely Marvin, Carvin, Michael, Ronald, CeCe, BeBe, David, Daniel, Angie and Debbie. David "Pop" Winans made them and made them all famous in one musical way or another. And even though he pretty much stuck to his roots himself, the children had a tendency towards gospel with a pop flavor, despite having grown up in a house where all but gospel was verboten. (But there were ten of them. They smuggled in rock music.) Don't think there weren't temptations for the Winans patriarch. Sam Cooke tried to entice him over to his kind of music, but his kind of music, as good as it was, was played in bars. Bars weren't churches, far from it, and Winans was a churchman. And it worked. When you think of gospel music, you think of the Winans family. They may not fill bars, but they regularly fill amphitheaters. I'm sure they filled the church in Detroit where services were held. Oprah sent a basket of creme hydrangea through Blumz by J.R. Designs floral shop in downtown Detroit. You might have wanted to know that detail.

Because Pop Winans has died at 74, Yersinia Pestis, who's hot, hot, hot, earns 8 for the hit, five for the solo, and fourth place. YP, I'll take you there. 

Ever wonder why Orville Redenbacher wore a red bowtie? No? Yeah, me, either.

Especially selected red bowtie photos: [ snurl.com/tc5wu ] & [ snurl.com/tc5xi ].

So, anyway, this is what happened ... Back in 1951, Orville Redenbacher and some other guy, bought a hybrid corn seed company in Boone Grove, Indiana and they called their new venture — their new popcorn company — Red-Bow Popcorn, which was a combination of the first three letters of each of their last names. Then you know what happened? Some fucking New York ad agency told them, "The name Red-Bow Popcorn blows chunks. Sucks big-time. Let's change it to Orville Redenbacher's Popcorn"

And now Charlie Bowman, the man best-known for *not* being Orville Redenbacher, has died, and even the lone guy who had him in the 2009 AO Deadpool, didn't notice. Bowman, who was 89 when he popped off for the last time, died in April. Buford gets five salty points and five hot-buttered bonus points. Total: 10.

Steve Miller's WSJ obit: [ online.wsj.com/article/SB124001602945929965.html ] 

Bruce Snyder, who was 69 when he died in April, is a late addition to the deadpool updates ... because no one knew he was a solo hit until last week.

Snyder had been the football coach at Arizona State (1992-2000), Cal (1987-1991) and Utah State (1976-1982). He was also an assistant coach for the Los Angeles Rams (1983-1986). He was the consensus national Coach of the Year in 1996 and he was twice the PAC-10 Coach of the Year. Over forty of his ASU players were drafted by the NFL and another forty signed NFL rookie contracts.

Then he died.

Yersinia Pestis gets 11 points for the unnecessary roughness brought on by Stage IV melanoma cancer, and another 5 for being the only one to wave his pom-poms as coach Snyder was being carried off the field. Total: 16. 

I'm delighted to introduce our latest guest updater, our very own Danny Burstein (who also got the hit.) This is classic Danny. Sounds just like him. Although in person, he would have taken a tad longer to tell the story. Thanks, D.

Milton Lewis, one of the originals of the WABC-TV, Channel 7 in NYC, "Eyewitness News" program (format developed by the legendary, but not yet on-topic, Al Primo), was old enough to know better, but after years of print journalism (including a stint at the on-topic "Herald Tribune") joined up with the "Happy News" crowd.

And he luvvvvvved it. As did the viewers, frequently making Eyewitness News the most watched news program in the NYC area.

Cynical and humorous at the same time. Burning politicians left and right, but still respected by them. He hosted the well regarded City Hall retrospective "Scoundrels, Scalawags, and Saviors" (name approximate from memory) back in the early 1970s, even getting Mayor John Lindsay to participate. (Determining which category Lindsay fit into is best left as an exercise to the student).

"Now listen to this!" he exclaimed. "Did you know City Hall was once put up for sale?" And then he continued on. And on, and on. And that was in NYC politics. New Jersey was always open season, as the only news from there seemed to be floods, and politicians getting arrested.

But "Now Listen To This!" Everyone's probably familiar with the Great Boston Molasses Flood. New Jersey had its very own replica, over in Hackensack. Or maybe it was Hoboken. And there was our very own Milton Lewis, reporting on the sticky streets, standing in the midst of the goo, and ending the report with:

"This is Milton Lewis, shoveling (dramatic pause as he leaned on the shovel) MOLASSES, in the streets of Hackensack, NJ."

Milton Lewis, born 1912, died April, 2009. Even as he used a computer in his last decade he mourned, as he wrote in a letter to the New York Times in 2001, his "vintage Underwood, which died with the 1966 demise of The New York Herald Tribune, where [he] was a reporter."

Sidenote: A number of reports claim he was the last of the original Eyewitness News crew, but I'm pretty sure that some of the others are still around. Don't know for certain if they were there at the very beginning or came over in the first few years. Al Primo is certainly still with us...

Now listen to this. For his first hit of the season, Danny gets 2 points plus 5 for the solo. Total: 7. Back to you, Danny. 

J.G. Ballard was all about the disaster. The crash, the flood, the high rise anarchy, the childhood in occupied Shanghai. The wife dying suddenly on holiday. Some of it was made up but a lot of it you couldn't make up. Upon hearing of his dying, I found my collection of Ballards in record time. Lovely English editions I must have picked up in Canada or England. I read the backs and I am struck by how prescient he was about climate change and water shortage, about calamities brought on by human society slipping into reverse, about the perils of mass consumerism, and on and on. He was obsessed with assassinations and car crashes. And yet, he was the quintessential suburban Dad. He never strayed far from his Shepperton home, where he raised his three kids alone. He experimented in fiction. He predicted alarming, apocalyptic changes, and lived in the same house for 50 years.

J.G. Ballard has died at 78. His last book, as yet unpublished, is titled "Conversations with My Physician: The Meaning, if Any, of Life." McKie and DDT have rhymingly gotten the duet. They get 8 and 3. Total: 11. 

The word journeyman was made for Ken Annakin. I've been trying to think of an equivalent modern-day director, someone who's not exactly an auteur, but not exactly a hack, either. He worked because he had experience, he was reliable and was probably a very nice man. He even made some quality pix. You could use him for a couple of comedies that had to get made because someone's contract was about to be up. You could throw him at The Longest Day with the other directors for some heavy-duty battle scenes. You could replace a recalcitrant director with him. Well, you get the picture. Annakin started as a cameraman on training films for the RAF during the war, and went on to direct more than 40 features on both sides of the pond. His most famous films (if you were, say, 12) were Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines, which starred Stuart Whitman and Swiss Family Robinson, which starred John Mills. Someone on Imdb points out that the castaway men go shirtless in the film but their pants are tailored to hide their bellybuttons. This was the way things went in 1960. The Disney Corporation loved him. He made them lots of little fans and lots of big bucks.

Interestingly, he was one of Mike Leigh's favorite directors, which is enough for me to try to find all the English comedies he directed in the forties. Too bad his career ended with stinkers like The Pirate Movie with Kristy McNichol and Christopher Atkins. I'd like to see the script notes for that project.

Ken Annakin died on the same day as Jack Cardiff, his cinematographer on The Fifth Musketeer. He was 94. Exuma joins the 2009 game with this terrific hit. He gets 2 for the advanced age and 5 for the solo. Total: 7. 

Please join me in welcoming the first guest update this year from Brad Ferguson. Stay with it, as it's terrific from beginning to end. Not only that, I asked him for it in the morning, and got it in the afternoon. Good, fast *and* cheap.

Bea Arthur was born in New York (where else?) in 1922. She was Bernice Frankel then, the daughter of Phil and Rebecca. Not too long after Bernice was born, Phil decided to move the family to Cambridge, Maryland, where he and his wife wound up running a women's clothing store. (Cambridge is sort of in the ass end of nowhere. It's located east of Chesapeake Bay and, even today, has a population of only 11,000. It's got some history, though. Harriet Tubman was born there. Annie Oakley lived there for several years during the 19-teens. And then there's Maude.)

Bernice grew up and thought about joining the Marines during World War II, but she didn't. After college in Virginia, Bernice returned to New York and worked in off-Broadway theater while studying drama at the New School. Bernice became Bea because she hated the name Bernice, and Arthur because she'd married writer Robert Alan Aurthur. (Note that she tweaked his spelling.) Early on, Bea tried lounge singing, but she stood just under 5'10" and was filled out to match, and nightclubs liked their girl singers to be, well, girls. One of her employers suggested she try comedy instead.

Bea spent her 1950s learning, acting, and remarrying, this time to actor/director Gene Saks. In 1954 she played Lucy Brown in the first English-language version of "Threepenny Opera." Scores of roles followed. It took her only another ten years to break through.

"Fiddler on the Roof" put Bea on the map. She played Yente, the matchmaker, and she stole the show, even from Zero Mostel. Two years later she played Vera Charles, the drunky best friend of Angela Lansbury's Mame Dennis. Bea won a Tony for that, and she would remain best friends with Angela Lansbury for the rest of her life. (And never mind the film version of "Mame," which was directed by Gene Saks and in which Bea repeated as Vera. It sucked, Bea stole it without effort, and people noticed.)

Bea gave us a signal of what was to come in the 1970 film "Lovers and Other Strangers," in which she played the Mother from — well, if not exactly Hell, then just east of there. Norman Lear, who produced "All in the Family," brought Bea on as Maude Findlay, Edith Bunker's liberal-feminist cousin, who has to tend to Archie while he has the flu. She shot and she scored, and after a backdoor pilot via "All in the Family," the "Maude" series premiered in 1972. It ran for six years, was not without controversy, remained popular throughout, and ended only because Bea had had enough of TV for a while.

In 1983, Bea tried another series, "Amanda's." This was an American adaptation of "Fawlty Towers" done by people who didn't understand the original. They managed thirteen episodes. Bea, and we, had to wait another two years for "The Golden Girls."

Simple premise. Three women — Dorothy, Rose and Blanche — share a house in Miami. Dorothy's dotty mother, Sophia, moves in with them. Wacky hijinks ensue for the next seven years. "The Golden Girls" ended because Bea, again, had had enough of TV for a while. The rest of the cast changed formats and networks to do "The Golden Palace," which limped along for a year and proved yet again that there's no horse so dead that TV can't beat it deader.

Bea took it easier after that. She did TV-movies and one-woman shows, winning another Tony nomination for one of the latter. She appeared on gloriously profane Comedy Central roasts for Jerry Stiller and Pamela Anderson. She worked with PETA. She loved "South Park" and played the Femputer on "Futurama." Her last TV role was as Larry David's mother on a 2005 episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm." It was entitled "The End."

Among Bea's many, many credits is an appearance on a 1978 thing called "The Star Wars Holiday Special." This is an awesomely bad piece of television. Generations yet unborn will speak of it and spit afterward. The special was never rebroadcast and has never been released on video, although if you're sufficiently resourceful and are under the gun to write an obit, you can find a copy of it somewhere or other.

It has a moment worth watching, and it's Bea's moment. She plays Ackmena, the night shift bartender at whatever the hell that smoky dive was called in the original Star Wars film. In comes Harvey Korman, himself once a victim of an American "Fawlty Towers" adaptation called "Snavely." Here, Korman plays Krelman, a shy and lonely man who mistakenly thinks Ackmena loves him. An official announces a sudden curfew, so Ackmena has to close the bar early. As Ackmena ushers everyone out, she sings, of course, because it's Bea Arthur:

Just one more drop, friend,
Before we stop, friend
One more moment face to face.
We may not thrive, friend
But we survive, friend
Look! We're alive, friend
You and I.
So say good night, friend,
Good night, but not goodbye.'

Direcorbie and Constant Irritant score with the ol' battleax. They get 5 for the hit and 3 for the duet. Welcome to the pool this year, CI. Bet J's been giving you grief! 

Greg Page, who died this week at 50, was, sadly, just another boxing hard-luck story. But twenty-five years ago, for less than 6-months, Greg Page had a moment in the sun. He was the heavyweight champion of the world, or at least the WBA's version.

Page, a journeyman fighter, came to boxing at the right time; the era of James Tillis, Trevor Berbick, Tony Tubbs, Tim Witherspoon, David Bey and Gerrie Coetzee. In other words, it was an era in which even a club fighter could become the champ. In April of 1985, Page lost his crown to Tony Tubbs. He had gone from journeyman boxer to champion to club fighter in time that could almost be measured in less than a standing eight-count. He was still picking up short paychecks in 2001 when another clubber, Dale Crowe, put him into a coma. Greg Page spent the rest of his life ... fighting for his life.

In the end, Mr. Brink was there to count the battered former champ out. On all the cards, Mr. Brink scores 14 and he gets five more for the SKO_[1]. Total: 19.

[1] Solo Knockout for those of you who are slower than Greg Page.

(Schenley update and I must also add that at least three people had Page in 2008 and took him off their lists for 2009.) 

I guess, with the death of The Reverend Timothy Wright, God called home one of his flock ... You know, by way of slaughtering his wife and grandson in the process. He couldn't just tap the Rev. on his shoulder and say, "Hey, Tim, wanna' come up to Heaven now?" No, not God. He had to snatch up some other guy, John Pick, and slap Tim, Betty and D.J. over the noggin' with poor Mr. Pick's car, killing everyone involved. Apparently God had some business with Betty because He took her first and left poor D.J. screaming in agony for a week. But lest anyone think that God isn't merciful, try to remember, Tim wasn't in pain ... 'cause he was para-fucking-lized.

The Rev Wright wrote gospel songs, like "Who's on the Lord's Side" (and he's probably re-thinking that one), "Do You Know the Light" and 1994 Grammy nominated, "Come Thou Almighty King" (and that may have something to do with Betty getting the nod before Tim). He also wrote, "You Must Come In At the Door." Hopefully when Tim was rolled in at the door ... they let him keep his gurney. Okay, I had no fucking idea who this guy was, but "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," Erik did. And because the Rev. Wright was only 61 when his broken, battered body was gurneyed through the gate, you know, the Door, Erik gets 11 points for his Brooklyn neighbor, and 5 more for praising the Lord all by his lonesome. Total: 16.

And no, I'm not going to Hell for writing this stuff. I'm going to Hell for other things ... So all of this stuff is free. Can I get an Amen?

(Schenley) 

We have here a marvelous update by King Daevid. We are very grateful for his help, and delighted to share this with you. Enjoy:

Whenever Lenny Bruce was asked who his favourite comedian was, he would always respond by naming George Gobel. Lenny explained that, while Gobel was an unquestionably funny guy, he seemed to be nobody's favourite comedian. So George Gobel became Lenny Bruce's favourite comedian. I don't know exactly what Gobel thought of that, or even if wind of that fact ever got back to him. But I have to admit that, for much the same reason, one of my very favourite comedians was Dom DeLuise.

He was never held in the same esteem as his contemporaries, partly because he was a sketch comedian rather than a stand-up like Richard Pryor, George Carlin or Bill Cosby. DeLuise almost always seemed to be the super-silly type of comic who would do slapstick, like the night he showed up on Johnny Carson's talk show, performed a trick involving raw eggs, and then joined Carson in messing the NBC studio, and each other, with those same eggs. Around the same time, he was a guest on the revival of "I've Got a Secret," his secret being that he was "hatching" an actual ostrich egg on the CBS studio floor, knitting something or other while on the nest.

He constantly worked with Mel Brooks and Burt Reynolds in some movies that were classics — Blazing Saddles and History of the World Part One come most immediately to mind from the former collaboration — and sometimes just an excuse to have fun while making a movie — the Cannonball Run movies and Smokey & The Bandit Part 2 come to mind from the latter collaboration.

He even got a chance to direct a fairly good one, the comedy Hot Stuff, back in 1979. A simple story about a Miami Police sting operation, it actually plays better as a TV sitcom than a theatrical movie. Of course, that may very well have been what DeLuise had in mind, something halfway between "Barney Miller" and "Dragnet" that he could star in himself for a couple of seasons if NBC or ABC were interested. It's in the blurb for Hot Stuff in Leonard Maltin's video guidebook that you may find the key to DeLuise's comedy; Maltin wasn't overly impressed, but did note the picture "surprises by treating its characters as real human beings instead of cartoon stereotypes." As goofy as DeLuise ever got, he never quite let his performances escape the boundaries of what would be conceivably done by someone you've met somewhere in real life. Bizarre, yes, but never beyond actual belief.

On the other hand, he didn't want to act the ogre to get the laughter. Mark Evanier has blogged of his suggestion that, during a spell when DeLuise would be wheelchair-bound because of hip surgery, he play the title role in a stage production of the Kaufman-Hart classic The Man Who Came to Dinner. Dom wasn't familiar with the piece, but promised to read the script and think about it. A couple of days later, Dom told Mark he'd read it, and didn't want to do it. The character was "a son of a bitch."

But what may surprise you is how brilliantly subtle he was in his first motion picture, a distinctly serious film from 1964 called Fail-Safe. In that one, a technical snafu sends American bombers the wrong codes, which leads the bombers to follow the mission the codes indicate: nuke Moscow. In the story, we see the codes being physically loaded by a Sgt. Collins at Strategic Air Command in Omaha. Modern day audiences chuckle at that moment, as we've been conditioned to --- Sgt. Collins was played by Dom DeLuise. We later see him in one other very important point in the film. His commander, General Bogan (played by another underrated actor, Frank Overton) orders Sgt. Collins to tell his Soviet counterparts on a hotline telephone hookup how they are able to knock the American bombers out of the sky. In his dialogue, Sgt. Collins does exactly that. But Sgt. Collins is also very nervous, realising that he was the one to load the codes that started this whole mess. Was it his error, or only the computer's, that put the world on the brink of nuclear catastrophe? His voice quivers at one point, he shudders at another, and as he turns to go back to his station, the expression on his face conveys the sharp anxiety he feels for having had the duty of telling those men he has been conditioned to consider his adversaries how to kill his own comrades in arms. With this brief appearance in a picture completely devoid of laughter, Dom DeLuise proved he could be as fine a tragedian as he was a comedian. Acting students can do much worse than to study this short piece of film. It may have been his briefest role, but it was also one of his most effective.

Dom DeLuise was 75 years old when he died in his sleep this month. He had been battling both congestive heart failure and prostate cancer for several years. He left the world a legacy of laughter that his reflections and shadows will continue to generate for generations to come, provided we don't do what was depicted in Fail-Safe. At the very least, he definitely improved the spirit of this world with his presence in it, and those of us who have faith in God, or Gods, can certainly thank our respective God or Gods for Dominick DeLuise being placed among us for the time that he was.

Thank you for being patient, Constant Irritant, Denise, Direcorbie, Jazz Vulture, Jenstrikesagain and JohnnyB. Your reward is 8 points. Welcome to the 2009 game, JV. 

There were three pianos in his palace in Great Britain, and a wine cellar with an extensive collection was kept in his home in France. Being a pilot, he would jet between his two homes, where he entertained lavish parties. Among his other eclectic collectables were corkscrews, clocks, cameras and several vintage automobiles. According to the London Daily Telegraph, Ian Cundy owned so many clocks that a midday caller might well have thought their call was to a "horologist's workshop."

Who was this wealthy jet-setter, this man about Europe? Was he a rock star or a footballer? The heir to a vast tea and crumpets fortune? No. Mr. Cundy was actually The Right Reverend Ian Cundy, an Anglican priest. Fairy tales, it seems, are as lucrative in England as they are in Rome.

The Telegraph made no mention of his considerable kiddie-porn collection or his involvement in the assassination of Diana, Princess of Wales.

He was 64.

DDT was preying at an altar very different from The Right Reverend's. He gets 11 points for the hit and an additional 5 for the solo ... to go along with his excommunication. Total: 16.

Editor's Note: When we haven't had guest updates, Bill's been writing them, as he did this one. I'm very grateful.

The comparisons with his brother Joe are inevitable; Joe, the New York Yankee hall of famer, and Dom, the diminutive, bespectacled, not-quite-a-hall-of-famer. And the comparisons are usually unfair.

Dom DiMaggio, who has died at 92, was, in most respects, much more than his self-centered, but more celebrated brother, Joe. Dom was married to Emily Frederick for 60 years when he passed away. Joe's marriages, to Dorothy Arnold and to Marilyn Monroe, lasted less than six years combined. Dom had three children, all of whom graduated from college (Brown, Stanford and the University of New Hampshire), while Joe's only son, who was estranged from his father, died from an overdose of crack and heroin shortly after his father's death. After Joe DiMaggio's baseball career had ended, he lived off his celebrity. Dom DiMaggio, refusing to trade off his name, started a textile business (Delaware Valley Corp.) that continues to prosper.

Dominic Paul DiMaggio was a seven-time All-Star center fielder for the Boston Red Sox, and even Casey Stengel, Joe's Yankee manager, called Dom the best center fielder in major league baseball. Dom DiMaggio's 34-game hitting streak, set in 1949, is still the Red Sox record. And, as if it weren't bad enough to be primarily known as Joe DiMaggio's younger brother, Dom is also remembered for pulling his hamstring as he was coming into second base in the 8th inning of game seven of the 1946 World Series. DiMaggio had just driven in two runs, tying the game at 3-all, with his double. He was replaced in the outfield by Len Culbertson, who bobbled a ball hit by Harry Walker of the St. Louis Cardinals and allowed Enos Slaughter to score from first base. The Cardinals won the series, 4-3.

For more information on the this great under-rated baseball player, known as "The Little Professor," read David Halberstam's "Teammates."

The AO Deadpool has its own little professors: Bill Schenley, Exuma and Mort Chewary were all deadpool schooled enough to know this would be Dom's last season. They each get 2 points for the hit, and another single bonus point. Total: 3. 

The important details to remember are these. He was Germany's leading goaltender playing for its national team in two Olympics and 6 national championships. He stopped 96 of 100 shots in the second-longest game in the history of professional hockey. He was the winning goalie on March 22, 2008, as host Kölner Haie beat Adler Mannheim, 5-4, in the sixth overtime of their German DEL playoff game, which lasted 168 minutes 16 seconds. Only Detroit's 1-0 victory against the Montreal Maroons in 1936, at 176:30, went longer. He was even drafted by the Washington Capitals but he never played in the NHL. He was married, he had a couple of kids. These are the details to remember, the ordinary and the extraordinary things he had accomplished before he was 28. Because Robert Müller died obscenely young, at 28, of a brain tumor.

I'm beginning to think I'm the last person reading the actual print edition of the New York Times. And because I go through it page by page, sequentially, instead of jumping around an irritating website, I happened to read the hockey news one day. I don't usually read the hockey news but that day I did. There was a sad article about this young man who was still trying to play even after surgery and chemo.

So sue me. I put him on my list. For those doubting Toms among us, there were obituaries in the NY Times, AP, Canadian Press and all the German newspapers. I, Amelia, get 22 points for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 27. One point out of first. One lousy point. And because some of you would like to know, Jade Goody was younger, so I'm out of the running for youngest hit. 

There's a certain logic to the notion that the youngest passenger should be the last survivor, don't you think? By actuarial consideration, Millvina Dean had the best odds. Sometimes, it works that way, but not always. (We consulted an actuary before looking for people for our high school reunion to determine how many should be dead, and he was right on the money.) Then there's the bizarre idea that the person who remembers the least, that is to say, nothing, should be the person who hangs around the longest as witness. (I worked with someone who was in utero on the Andrea Doria, so presumably she was the youngest survivor on that trip and she loves talking about it.) Dean hung around long enough to run out of money to live on, and ended up being rescued once again. This time, by the actors in the film version. Now that's strange.

As the result of a cruel twist of fate (are twists of fate ever kind?) Millvina Dean did not die in Kansas, the family's destination, but in England, where they had come from. She was 97 and the end of an era. Our Buford, Charlene, Erik, Kathi and Nova Cassius (first of the year!) each get the incredible sum of 2 points. 

Bill Schenley writes:

Marlene Dietrich, Carol Channing, Dorothy Squires and Shirley Bassey were not only his close friends, but his muses. Danny La Rue, Britain's most well-known drag queen, or "a bloke in a frock," as he preferred to be called, died the first week of June, although AO Deadpool executives were not notified until this week. Hence the tardy Update ... and if you don't like it, in the words of Danny La Rue, when Princess Margaret opened his dressing room door only to find him naked, "Piss off!"

Moldy Oldies, in his best Chanel suit, waited until the last week in December, hoping, I presume, to entice a few extra end-of-the-year bonus points out of us. Well, it won't work, Oldies. I don't care how seductive that gorgeous, sensual, alluring ... red ... lipstick ... of ... yours ... Uh, anyway, because Danny La Rue was 81, MO gets five for the hit and five for the solo.

Total: 10. 

Hugh Hopper, who was at one time the bass player for Soft Machine, has died at 64. Amelia stuck me with this Update for the same reason she throws the arithmetic people, the fucking priests and auto salesmen at me ... because I absolutely Fucking Despise jazz fusion slash progressive slash fucking experimental gag-me-with-a-shovel ... music — that goddamned looping, batshit barf noise that some others seem to adore.

He once (keyword: once) worked with Syd Barrett ... and as much as I loved the music of Syd Barrett and Pink Floyd, that's not really much of a talent endorsement because Barrett himself was fucking crazy. Anyway, I don't really want to trash the guy, because I never listened to him — so lets get right to the points.

DDT and That Wilde Flower Ed Varner, by fusing Google and leukemia, came away with a pretty cool hit. They get 11 points for the hit and 3 for the duet. Total: 14.

Editor's note: That was Schenley. Please refer to the website for completely accurate scoring. I obviously can't add.

Huey Long was the last surviving member of a band he only played with for 9 months. But lest anyone think that brief tenure with the Inkspots rendered him insignificant in the world of music, the facts are otherwise. His career lasted 80 years, from the time he put down his shoe-shine kit outside the Rice Hotel in Houston and replaced a banjo player who never showed. He played with Tex Guinan's Cuban Orchestra, the WPA Concert and Swing Band, Fletcher Henderson, Earl Hines, Eddie Lockjaw Davis, Charlie Parker, Dizzie Gillespie and accompanied every singer around. In the 60's he formed a version of the Inkspots and performed across the country. For whom, I can't even imagine. He had a good long musical career, met the greats, made wonderful recordings and was writing a musical dictionary just before he died. We should all be so productive.

It's too bad Fireball didn't have Senator or Governor Huey Long in some alternate universe deadpool, because he died at 42. Our Huey Long died back in early June at the age of 105 So he gets 1 for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 6 

Brad Ferguson has been kind enough to whip up another great update for us. I just knew he was the right man for the job. Enjoy.

Sidekicks rule, man. Ed McMahon was married three times, and Johnny Carson four, but Ed and Johnny always had each other. All the headlines today are going to say Carson Sidekick and Tonight Show Announcer, but the story starts earlier and goes deeper.

Ed McMahon was born in Detroit in 1923, the son of Edward Sr. and Eleanor Russell McMahon. His father was a singer who told jokes. Ed was on his own by the age of 12 and worked as a carnival barker in the Maine town of Mexico, where he also called bingo games.

Ed served in World War II and Korea. He was a Marine fighter pilot and, later, a flight instructor and test pilot. Ed loved the Marines and was proud of his service. He remained in the Reserves until he retired as a colonel in 1966, whereupon he was commissioned a brigadier general in the California Air National Guard. He stayed with that until 1983.

Between World War II and Korea, Ed put himself through college by going to Atlantic City in the summer and selling vegetable slicers from a stand just off the Boardwalk. That sounds dull and stupid, but Ed made a thousand bucks a week selling those slicers. Ed graduated from the Catholic University of America in 1949 with a bachelor's in speech and drama.

Dick Clark, the American Bandstand host, knew everybody. He'd known Johnny Carson since at least 1952. In fact Johnny, still an unknown, had sat in as a drummer on Bandstand at least once. Dick Clark also knew Ed McMahon. Dick met Ed in 1953, when Ed moved into Dick's apartment building. Soon enough, Ed was working as Dick's announcer on Bandstand. One day there was Dick and Ed, and all of a sudden heeeere's Johnny. "Hey, Johnny," says Dick, "c'mon over; I think you ought to meet my friend Ed here.

Boomers of a certain age may remember a quiz show called Who Do You Trust? It premiered in late 1957 on ABC and was on every day after school, and it was hosted by Johnny Carson. The quiz stuff was incidental, like with Groucho on You Bet Your Life. You watched Who Do You Trust? not for the quiz, but for Johnny's frequently hilarious interviews with the contestants. Remember that bit; it might just turn out to be important later.

The original announcer on Who Do You Trust? was a fellow named Bill Nimmo, who was with the show during its first year. It wasn't working out, so Johnny decided to bring in Ed to replace Nimmo. Ed and Johnny wound up doing the show for four years. They both left, together, in 1962 to do The Tonight Show, together.

Hank Bradford was the head writer on The Tonight Show from 1969 to 1975. He recently told Mark Evanier that "all these guys [Conan O'Brien, David Letterman, Jay Leno, etc.] all go on and on about how much they admired Johnny and follow in his footsteps ... but they all think they can do that kind of a show without an Ed McMahon. Johnny knew how much it adds to have someone to talk to, someone who can function as a good straight man. He would never have done his show without Ed." That partnership lasted for nearly thirty years, until Johnny and Ed left Tonight, together, in 1992.

Ed and Johnny remained close friends until Johnny's death in 2005. Ed told Time magazine that he got the call from Johnny's nephew Jeff. Ed's wife Pam answered, and Ed knew what had happened when he saw Pam's face. Jeff told Ed, "You're my first call. He would have wanted me to call you first. I know how much you two meant to each other." Ed thanked him and hung up. Ed said that it was the first time his wife had ever seen him cry.

There's more about Ed. He had his own career. He acted in a few movies, perhaps most notably as a victim in 1967's subway crime drama The Incident. You'd see Ed in a guest shot on somebody's else TV show now and then, and he had a recurring role in a short-lived Tom Arnold sitcom during the late '90s. Ed hosted the game show Concentration for a few months in 1969. He also had the distinction of hosting perhaps the worst hour of television of all time, a thing called Legends of the Superheroes: The Roast.

But, much farther up his resume, Ed co-hosted (with his old friend Dick Clark) a series called TV's Bloopers & Practical Jokes. He did Bloopers for only a couple of years, but it seems longer than that because the show was in reruns forever, and it was hard to tell one episode from another. Watching cats fall off sofas never gets old. There was also Star Search, an amateur-talent competition that was Ed's biggest personal success.

Ed was Jerry Lewis' announcer for the annual Muscular Dystrophy Telethon, which started in New York about a hundred years ago and has long since gone national and relocated to Las Vegas.

Ed's later years were marred by bad news, illness and financial problems. There were a couple of costly divorces and a bruising custody battle. Ed's son Michael died of liver cancer in 1995. Ed broke his neck in a fall, and was unable to work for years thereafter, which depleted his resources and led to him nearly losing his home. Ed spent an ugly final four months in the hospital for treatment of pneumonia and bone cancer.

Ed's last appearance on TV, the last time Ed was truly Ed and not some hard-luck story on Larry King Live, was on last year's Emmy Awards show. It's a very brief bit. Ed's in a chair because he can no longer stand, but he's nevertheless right there in the middle of a big fat mess of a production number that honors TV shows of the past. In the middle of all of that, the very last thing that Ed McMahon will ever say on live TV is what comes now, with a perfect pitchman's big smile: Heeeeeere's Johnny!

Who Do You Trust — www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rf7X6dJNFyg

Abby, King Daevid, Pat Peeve and Mister Selina (with his first of the year) have all picked the second banana. They get 5 points apiece. 

Try to put yourself in her place. Wanting to be in Antarctica. In the winter. In temperatures that defy the imagination. With a lump in your breast. With you being the doctor. The only doctor. Would you biopsy your own lump, and would you administer chemo to yourself with the help of a welder and a machinist? Would you ignore all admonitions to leave and get treatment conventionally? It's impossible to put yourself in her place, because then you'd have to be at the South Pole. Eventually, people risked their lives to bring her back to a world where she could be just the patient and the rest would have been history, except she wrote a book which was made into a movie in which Susan Sarandon got to put herself in Dr.Jerri Nielsen's place. Except it was probably somewhere in Hollywood.

Dr. Nielsen died last week at 57, a full ten years after her self-diagnosis. And in this star-studded week of celebrity death, Philip went in a different direction from everyone else and got himself a very, very impressive solo. That's 14 points for the hit and 5 for the solo. Nice work, Philip. 

Of all the things I've read about Farrah Fawcett in the last week, the most interesting one was this. Back in the day, she did her own hair and makeup. Back in the day of that poster on your (you know who you are) bedroom wall. Tens of millions of posters sold and sullied, and she did her own hair. The guy who cut my hair for many years, whose name I'm ashamed to admit has disappeared from my memory bank, used to get all upset about that haircut. "Everyone wants that Fucking Flip," he'd yell. He's long gone, poor man, dead of AIDS, but I can still hear him spitting those words out. Farrah wasn't a bad actress. She tried. I liked her in that TV movie about her mother-in-law dying and the fact that she was acclaimed for doing a good job of playing battered women may have had more to do with her taste in men than any acting classes she might have audited. I'll give her points for playing a Nazi-hunter, although the casting was nothing if not bizarre. I had no idea she played the great photographer Margaret Bourke White, but she did. As cancer was bringing her life to an end — anal cancer, the penultimate indignity — she held her head and what was left of her hair up high and tried for her umpteenth comeback. She was dying all over the news, the tabloids, the TV, the internet. Maybe there was a poster in the works, who knows.

One day the hairdresser and I had a frank conversation about death. And he was quite the philosopher. About one's own death, he appropriated the words,"we know not the day nor the hour." Farrah Fawcett might have known the day, but she will never know how few hours her death was in the headlines. This was the final indignity.

Abby, Buford, Chaptal, Charlene, Chipmunk Roasting, Denise, Direcorbie, Erik, Fireball, JD Baldwin, Kathypig1, Mark, Max Weder, Mr. Brink, Pat Peeve, Philip, Ray Arthur, Sis, and Undertaker each get 11 points. First of the year for Chipmunk Roasting, Ray Arthur and Sis! 

"I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin' on the porch with my family, singin' and dancin'." — Navin Johnson ("The Jerk") —

Moments after Farrah Fawcett passed away, she found herself walking through the gates of Heaven where she was introduced to God. God, remembering that Farrah had great nipples, told the late Ms. Fawcett that she could have one wish — any wish. Flipping her Flop to the side, she smiled demurely and said, "I wish for all the world's children to be safe." With just a snap of God's fingers ... the self-proclaimed "King of Pop" ... was dead.

There has been much conjecture as to the cause of Michael Jackson's death. Some say heart attack or an overdose of drugs, while others speculate he choked on a small bone, or perhaps died from food poisoning — eating eight-year-old nuts. After all, he had been looking rather pale and paramedics at the scene report that Michael Jackson never got his color back.

---
Q: What's the difference between Michael Jackson and greyhound racing?
A: The greyhounds wait for the hares to come out.
---

Whatever the cause of death, the world did lose an iconic singer and dancer. Michael Jackson was to the 1980s and 90s, what Elvis was to the 50s and The Beatles were to the 60s. His music, his dancing, and his style — the freak show that was his life, has been, and will most likely continue to be an influence in popular music for generations to come.

Once a member of the Jackson 5, his greatest fame came as a solo act. Jackson's 1979 album "Off the Wall" was the first of several records that would become some of the best-selling albums in music history. His LP "Thriller" stayed in the Billboard top-ten for eighty consecutive weeks, thirty-seven at number one. Jackson's signature dance move, the moonwalk, made its debut at Motown 25 while performing his hit song "Billy's Jeans" from the "Thriller" album. "Thriller" is the best-selling album of all-time.

---
Q: What's the difference between Michael Jackson and acne?
A: Acne doesn't come on your face until you're 13.
---

In 1993, Jackson became infatuated with a 13-year-old boy named Jordan Chandler, who, under the influence of sodium amytal, stated that he and Jackson engaged in oral sex. Chandler gave a detailed account of Jackson's penis, including a description of the truck tattoo on Jacko's dick. A tattoo artist also testified, that a month or so after Jackson met Jordan Chandler, that Michael Jackson requested a truck be tattooed on his penis. And when the artist inquired as what kind of truck Mr. Jackson would like tattooed on his penis, Jackson replied ... "Make it a 4X4 ... because it's gonna' get pretty fuckin' muddy." Still, the controversy never seemed to bother Jackson. He didn't appear to mind reaching bottom.

Jackson was married twice. To Lisa Marie Presley, daughter of the late Elvis Presley, and to Debbie Rowe, who was the biological mother of two of his children. When Ms. Rowe was pregnant with their first child, a BBC reporter asked, "Have you been able to determine its sex?" Rowe sweetly replied, "No, I want to wait until after its born." Dumbfounded, the reporter said, "Ms. Rowe, I was referring to Michael."

---
Q: Why is Michael Jackson addicted to pain killers?
A: To stop him from going OW! OW! OW!
---

In January 2005, Jackson was charged, in Santa Monica, California, with seven counts of child sexual abuse and two counts of administering an intoxicating agent in order to commit sexual abuse on a child. After Elizabeth Taylor testified on the "Larry King Live" television show, Jackson was acquitted of all charges. His life, however, would never be the same. Unable to overcome the scandal, his babysitting jobs dried up. He was forced to abandon his child-magnet, the Neverland ranch, and move into the squalor of Holmby Hills, a crime-ridden neighborhood of West Los Angeles known for housing other sexual predator-degenerates, like Hugh Hefner and Kelsey Grammer.

Jackson's addiction to prescription drugs also caused him many difficulties. However, his last visit to the Betty Ford Clinic seemed to do wonders for Wacko-Jacko. When his father asked how he felt, Jacko replied, "I feel like a new boy." Michael Jackson was so bad he could have been a Catholic priest. If he had molested any more young boys he would'a been a monsignor.

---
Q: How do you know when it's bedtime at the Jackson residence?
A: When the big hand touches the little hand...
---

Okay, enough of the pedophile jokes. I know many of you were molested as children, and you're probably offended, so let's get right to the scoring. ??? Guest, Abby, Another Lurker, Chaptal, Constant Irritant, Bushwhacker, Dead People Server, Denise, DGH, Erik, Jazz Vulture, Jenstrikesagain, J.D., Max Weder, Sarndra, Sis, Starfish, Team Bubba and The Monkey Farm all get 14 points (quite a Thriller) for the untimely demise of The King of Pop. Total: 14.

First of the year for ???Guest, Bushwhacker, Team Bubba and The Monkey Farm!

And in the words of the late Billy Mays, "But wait. There's more." Abby, Chaptal, Denise, Erik, J.D., Max Weder and Sis all hit the Daily Double with the death of Farrah Fawcett. That's ten extra points.

---
Q: Have you heard about the foundation that Michael Jackson and Richard Pryor have started?
A: It's called the Ignited Negro College Fund.
---

Karl Malden and Michael Jackson had Gary, Indiana in common, a city that is nothing if not working-class. And Malden was a silver screen working-class hero. His years in the steel mill served him well when he found the theater in New York. Kazan took one look at the gentle man with the weird nose and knew he had found his man, namely everyman. The Kazan films were the highlight of Malden's film career. (Although I thought he was a perfect Herbie.) The Streets of San Francisco was apparently the highlight of his working stiff TV career, but not, I would say, until it morphed into American Express. Those were the good old days, when you could put a trusted TV character in front of the camera to talk to the audience about being safe. And people bought it hook, line and sinker. His last role was amazing, playing a priest on West Wing who counsels the POTUS on the death penalty. A brilliant stroke of casting. I guess that's it. Whatever he did, it was a brilliant stroke of casting.

Dead Batteries, Deepstblu, Eternity Tours, Exuma, JamesNeibaur, Kixco, Pat Peeve, Mark, Mister Selina, Monarc, Ray Arthur and The Wiz have all cashed in their deadpool traveler's checks. Malden was 97, so they each get 2 points. First of the year for Eternity Tours! 

Just the craziness in my head, but I've always wondered ... did the carpet match the drapes. Mollie Sugden, who had not only blonde, auburn, red (and I mean RED), silver, blue, purple, yellow, pink and green hair, has died.

She was best known in Great Britain and North America for her role as Mrs. Slocombe in the comedy series "Are You Being Served."

I would be remiss in this Update, as would any obituary about Ms. Sugden, if I didn't mention her pussy:

"The last time I was late, a fireman had to climb out my bedroom window and grab hold of my pussy."

"On the stroke of six my pussy goes mad."

"It's a wonder I'm here at all. My pussy got soaking wet, I had to dry it out in front of the fireplace."

"Having a bath at six o'clock in the morning played havoc with my pussy."

"Mr. Humphries, leave my pussy alone."

"The mere sight of my pussy drives him mad."

"If my pussy isn't attended to by eight-o'clock, I'll be stroking it all night."

Lest anyone get the wrong idea, Molly Sugden was much more than a one-trick-pus ... er ... pony. She was a wonderful comedic actor with a long and distinguished career, unfortunately for most Americans, a career usually confined to the Old Country.

Ms. Sugden was 86 when she and her pussy left for parts unknown. JohnnyB was lucky enough to get mention in her will. She leaves him with five points for the hit, five for the solo ... and a pale blue merkin. Total: 10 (albeit a colorful ten).

(BS) 

Leo Mol's work included paintings, drawings, porcelain figurines and stained glass windows, but he is best known for his sculptures. And no wonder. He came from a community of potters in the Ukraine and his birthplace was rich in clay. So it was either tennis or sculpture. In his oeuvre are the likenesses of three different popes, Queen Elizabeth and Winston Churchill. His sculpture of Eisenhower is in the Portrait Gallery in DC. His work, Lumberjacks, was featured on a Canadian stamp. He left all his work to the city of Winnipeg, and in it's all in a lovely garden. Leo Mol died at 94 on July 4th. His memorial service was in the garden, and hundreds of folks lined the walkways as the premier of Mantiboa said they were in the most beautiful place in all of Canada. You can see many of the sculptures there and listen to a really horrible piece of what I'm guessing is Ukrainian requiem music in this link:

www.winnipegsun.com/news/2009/07/13/10122221.html#/news/winnip...

Chipmunk Roasting, one of our Canadian hotshots, gets the solo on this one. She gets two points for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 7. Excellent hit. (Another Canadian solo coming up soon!) 

Our webmaster sent along his own ditty:

My Stiff has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R
My Cadaver has a second name, it's M-A-Y-E-R
Oh, I love to pick him every day, and if you ask me why, I'll say,
Cause Oscar Mayer made the day of B-U-F-O-R-D Yay!

2 points for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 7 Hold the mustard.

(Buford) 

I will not trivialize nor will I memorialize Robert McNamara, who has died at 93. He deserves neither.

(Bill Schenley)

Another Lurker, Dead Batteries, Mark, Monarc and Nova Cassius all receive 2 points for the hit. Total: 2 

Another terrific update from Brad Ferguson and Brad, I swear this'll be the last time I ask you this year. (You can always volunteer, of course.)

Walter Cronkite was born nearly 93 years ago in St. Joseph, Missouri, the Show-Me State. He began his professional career as a cub reporter with the Houston Post, which meant that his stories never ran longer than a paragraph or two. A long, long time later, most of the stories Cronkite wrote still wouldn't run longer than that, but his audience would be considerably larger.

Cronkite worked as a newspaper stringer while he attended the University of Texas at Austin. He quit college in his junior year and took a full-time job as a newspaper reporter at the Houston Press, but he soon discovered radio. The hours were probably better, and the money certainly was. Cronkite soon found a job as an announcer at WKY in Oklahoma City, and within months he'd traded up to KCMO in Kansas City. Cronkite was the sports announcer there, and he did lots of commercials. Some of them were with a girl named Betsy.

Cronkite left KCMO for the United Press in 1937. This is where he won his spurs. He learned to write light, tight and bright, and to do it quickly and truly. He also married Betsy. Then the war came.

Cronkite was one of the first to go cover the war. He went to North Africa and to Europe. He tagged along on bombing runs over Germany, and on at least one mission he manned a gun aboard a Flying Fortress and shot at attacking Nazi fighters. (No, civilians are not supposed to do that, but Cronkite did it anyway.) Somewhere in there, the legendary Edward R. Murrow approached Cronkite with a job offer: Work for CBS for $125 a week. Cronkite said no, he'd stick with the UP, where he was making about $90. Murrow was surprised by Cronkite's refusal, but maybe Murrow had never worked on a radio station in Kansas City.

After the war, Cronkite covered the Nuremberg war crimes trials and then went to work in Moscow, still for the UP. In 1950, Ed Murrow again tried to hire Cronkite and, this time, Cronkite was willing. Living in Stalin-era Moscow would do that to you.

Cronkite was sent to Washington to build CBS's news operation there, at WTOP-TV. Under chairman William Paley, CBS took news very seriously. Paley underwrote the news division's losses because Paley not only wanted CBS to be a good corporate citizen, but he knew that doing quality news would secure for CBS the privilege of using the people's airwaves to broadcast pie fights for lowbrow laughs and big bucks. That's why the network produced the news for its New York and Washington stations.

Cronkite went national with a newscast called "Up to the Minute," which ran on Sunday nights after the popular game show "What's My Line?" "Up to the Minute" ran for the then-standard fifteen minutes, and it was mostly Cronkite reading his own copy, so you know it was good.

And now here comes the Cronkite we'll come to know pretty well. He was given the job of fronting CBS coverage of the 1952 Republican and Democratic National Conventions. Back then, and for some years to come, these conventions were covered wall-to-wall, and all regular programming was pre-empted for them, no matter how pointless the conventions were or how tedious they became. The word "anchor" was coined for the job Cronkite did here in 1952, because "host" sounded wrong and there was no other word. No one knows who coined it — there are at least three claimants for the honor — but it was coined for Cronkite. Cronkite also anchored election-night coverage that year.

Beginning in 1953, Cronkite hosted (that's the right word here) a show called "You Are There," which covered historical events as they might have been covered by CBS, had the network and all its technology been around at the time. Cronkite was also, at one mercifully brief point, a quizzzzzmaster, hosting "It's News to Me" during the summer of 1954. It was the summer replacement series for the Ed Murrow show "Person to Person," so maybe there was some news division cache there ... but probably not.

That same year, Cronkite became the first host of "The Morning Show," which was intended to compete with NBC's popular "Today" program. At the time, a chimpanzee named J. Fred Muggs was one of the hosts of "Today." CBS did not care to hire a chimp. Instead, Cronkite would discuss the news with a lion-like hand puppet named Charlemane. Cronkite said many years later that his discussions of current events with the witty Charlemane were the highlight of the show, and he remained proud of it.

Cronkite took over the evening news program from Douglas Edwards in 1962 and stayed with it until 1981. The three things people remember the most about Cronkite's work are his enthusiasm for the space program, his distress over the murder of John F. Kennedy, and his report on Vietnam in 1968.

Vietnam, now. Cronkite went there and took a careful look around. Then he came home and did a special report, at the end of which he told everybody exactly what he thought about what he'd been shown, and especially about what he'd seen for himself. He said that the war had gone to stalemate and should be ended through negotiation. Some never forgave Cronkite for this, and it didn't help that he turned out to be right. As we now know from the memoirs of former defense secretary Robert McNamara and others, official Washington had come to realize a couple of years previously that the war could not be won. More than forty years later, some continue to criticize Cronkite's report as some sort of lapse or error, blithely choosing to ignore the basics of what journalism is supposed to be: This is what I saw, this is the context, and this is what I think it means. Some of that, especially the last part, frequently gets lost because, when you get right down to it, many find great comfort in a news bunny's smooth read of a government press release.

In his retirement, Cronkite had hosted the Vienna Philharmonic's annual New Year's Day concert for 24 years, including 2008. In that final year, he looked thinner and more tired than even being 91 might call for, and the mustache he'd had since the 1940s was suddenly gone, reportedly the victim of Cronkite's need for supplemental oxygen delivery. It was clear that Cronkite was finally crumbling under the weight of his age. He did not return for this year's concert. Julie Andrews, not quite twenty years younger than he, replaced him.

Betsy Cronkite died four years ago. Her marriage to Walter had lasted 64 years. Recently, Walter had been keeping company, as he put it, with Carly Simon's older sister. Not bad. Cronkite was also friends with George Clooney. Not bad, either.

Cronkite had regrets. Maybe his biggest one was, as he told an interviewer a dozen years ago for the Newseum, "that in our attempt to establish some standards, we didn't make them stick. We couldn't find a way to pass them on to another generation."

Abby, Busgal, Charlene, Constant Irritant, DannyB, Dead Batteries, Eternity Tours, JD, Kathypig1, Lurker3791, King Daevid, Mark, Max Weder, Moldy Oldies, The Monkey Farm, Nova Cassius and Ray Arthur each get 2 points. First of the year for veteran player Lurker3791 and he's still higher than RH Draney! 

When Tomoji Tanabe, the oldest man in the world, died in June, Henry Allingham knew his days were numbered. 29 days later, his number was up. The oldest man in the world had died again.

Allingham, who served in the Royal Naval Air Service, was the oldest ever surviving member of any of the British Armed Forces and the oldest surviving veteran of the First World War.

This guy was old. A quick search of Wikipedia, the Internet's most reliable online information source, says Allingham first stood with William III at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, and then with Arthur Wellesley, the First Duke of Wellington, at Waterloo in 1815.

Overcome with bloodlust, Allingham lied about his age, knocking off many years, to insure at least one more killing field, when he enlisted in the Royal Naval Air Service in 1914. He fought with Sir John Jellicoe during the Battle of Jutland in 1916.

He is survived by his life-partner, Harry Patch.

They say old soldiers never die, they just fade into deadpool hits, and Henry was no exception. Allen Kirshner, who gets one point for the hit, has also been awarded the Royal Medal of Saint-Solo, worth an additional five points. Total: 6.

(Schenley) 

When Henry Allingham, the oldest man in the world, died in June, Harry Patch knew his days were numbered. Six days later, his number was up. The oldest man in the world had died, again.

This guy was old. A quick search of Wikipedia, the Internet's most reliable online information source, says Allingham first stood with William III at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, and then with Arthur Wellesley, the First Duke of Wellington, at Waterloo in 1815.

Overcome with bloodlust, Patch lied about his age, knocking off many years, to insure at least one more killing field, when he enlisted in the British army and fought in the Battle of Passchendaele, in France, in 1917.

They say old soldiers never die, they just fade into deadpool hits, and Harry was no exception. DrunkAsASkunk, who gets one point for the hit, has also been awarded the Royal Medal of Saint-Solo, worth an additional five points. Total: 6.

(Schenley) 

He was a choreographer, a dancer, and a teacher whose influence was profound, always challenging people to rethink the essence of dance. His work was essentially classical in structure but strikingly inventive in ..... Oh, who am I kidding. I hate dance. All of it. Ballet, tap, ballroom, modern, jazz. You name it, I've fallen asleep to it. I only tolerate dance in musical theater, because I love musical theater. Even a little Fosse goes a long way with me. And I can tell you now, if I had lived at the time of those horrible Agnes DeMille dance dream sequences I would have run screaming from the theater. When I see revivals of those old musicals, I pray they don't recreate the old choreography. But they always do, having found some elderly assistant who can remember every step.

It's taken me a week to start this update because I have absolutely nothing to say about Merce Cunningham and his work. I have a very close friend who lives for the New York City Ballet, knows all the dancers and the dances, writes beautiful poetry about them, and has just finished reviewing the summer season for the Saratoga paper. I would have asked him to write the update but I don't have the guts to tell him how I bored I was when he took me to the ballet last winter. (I hope he doesn't read this.) Anyway, Merce Cunningham was apparently one of the best. He did stuff with the music of John Cage (you want to talk boredom?) that made him very, very famous. They were lifelong partners, but you'd never know it by the Times of London, who referred to their relationship as a close friendship. (At least the English obits have dispensed with "He was a bachelor.")

All this aside, Merce is no more. He had just turned 90. Mr. Brink gets the solo. That's 2 + 5 = 7. A curtain call for Mr. Brink, who today likes dance just a little more than I do. 

Sir Bobby Robson has died at the age of 76, following a long battle with cancer.

This from the BBC:

"At club level, he cut his managerial teeth at Fulham before establishing his credentials at Ipswich where he won the FA Cup and Uefa Cup in a 13-year stay. Spells at PSV Eindhoven, Sporting Lisbon, Porto and Barcelona followed before he managed Newcastle United."

Now, to be honest, I don't have a freakin' clue as to what any of that means. The best I can come up with is that in Great Britain, *Sir* Bobby Robson was kind'a like Vince Lombardi; although Lombardi would'a had Jerry Kramer clothesline the Queen before he let her call him "sir."

Are these fucking people pretentious, or what ... Can you imagine, *Sir* Mike Ditka ... He was a *soccer* coach, fer' chrissakes! Oh, don't get me started on those goddamn Brits ... You know, this is what happens when soccer is your country's second most popular sport right behind buggery.

And then I read "He took England to semi-final of the World Cup in 1990." Here's the thing, I don't care what spot you are talking about, in every flippin' sport, in every flippin' country in the world ... that means he *lost*.

Still, he beat bowel cancer in 1992, malignant melanoma in 1995, a tumor in his right lung and a brain tumor, both in 2006 and lung cancer again in 2007. In the end, however, he couldn't beat Allezblancs, Charlene, DrunkAsASkunk, EdV, Philip or Mr. Brink. They shot, they scored ... Eight points each. Total: 8.

And on the penalty kick, Allezblancs gets not only his first hit of the year, but also his second hit of the year on the same day, for an extra 10 points. Nice job, Allezblancs ... for a Brit ....(Will add his extra points when the next update appears.)

(Schenley) 

To the people of the Philippines, she was not only their President, she was also the "Mother of Democracy." To the rest of the world, she was even more. She was a symbol of hope and courage, an idea that the world does not have to run on corruption. When her husband, Philippine senator Benigno Aquino, opposed the dictator Ferdinand Marcos, Marcos had him assassinated. Corazon Aquino, who until her husband's death, had been a housewife, suddenly became the Philippine standard bearer for courage and democracy.

She ran for president against Marcos, and despite the election abuse, intimidation and the disenfranchisement of voters, Mrs. Aquino prevailed after three days of protest, referred to as the People Power Revolution. In her six years as President of the Philippines, Cory Aquino survived at least six coup attempts. A monument honoring the late President Corazon Aquino will be built beside the statue of her slain husband in Manila, and no public funds will be used for the construction of the monument. Almost 400,000 mourners attended her funeral.

On the other hand, Allezblancs, DDT, Direcorbie, DrunkAsASkunk, Erik, Kixco and Undertaker don't care if Aquino gets a statue or if she is buried under two or three-hundred thousand of Imelda Marcos's shoes, as long as they all get their points. Total: 8. And Allezblancs gets an extra 10 points for getting his first and second hit of the year on the same day.

(Schenley) 

I know I said I wouldn't bother Brad Ferguson again, but this one was so up his NY alley. Terrific update.

The point of journalism should be to get to the truth, and sometimes you just can't do that.

Sidney Zion was hired and fired for decades by various New York newspapers and magazines, where he always made his mark and where he always wound up pissing somebody off for, as he would say, doing his job. Sid was part of the background of things until he outed think-tank analyst Daniel Ellsberg as the guy who'd leaked the Pentagon Papers to the New York Times. This was very important stuff, back in the day. The Pentagon Papers, a top-secret study done for the government in 1968, showed that Lyndon Johnson had planned a great expansion of the Vietnam War even before the 1964 election, and had lied and lied and lied about it to the people and to Congress during the campaign and for years afterward. The papers weren't leaked until 1971, well into the Nixon administration, but that gang thought the leak hurt the war effort, and so it sought to stop the publication of the papers. It was successful for a little while, but eventually history overwhelmed politics.

Sid was between print jobs at the time of the leak, so he went on Barry Gray's nightly radio show and reported that Ellsberg was the leaker. There are two stories about how Sid found out that Ellsberg had done it. One was that "everybody knew," and Sid had just said so out loud. The other was that Sid had a list of possible leakers from The Washington Post and by some mysterious process had divined that Ellsberg was the leaker. Whichever was true, Sid was hated after that by people who thought he'd helped the despised Nixon, needlessly prolonged the war, and betrayed a confidence. However, he'd also been right as to the facts.

Sid weathered a years-long blacklist and began writing for publication again in the Times in 1981. In that comeback story, a disgusted Sid said that Alan Freed and other rock 'n' roll people had destroyed American music. This did not make him many friends, either, but Sid began working steadily after that, mostly on what he called "easy pieces."

Then, in 1984, Sid's daughter Libby died at the age of 18 while in a hospital's emergency care. Sid the journalist became Sid the father, and the father left facts and logic behind in an effort to prove that somebody, anybody besides Libby was responsible for her death. Sid was particularly incensed that people were saying Libby took cocaine. Impossible, said Sid, even though entries in Libby's diary strongly suggested otherwise.

Sid brought a lot of heat. He even pressured the Manhattan district attorney to convene a grand jury to look into the case, but no indictments were returned. Hearings were held by the state medical board. There was a three-month-long civil trial ten years after Libby's death, and the jury returned a mixed verdict that assigned part of the blame to Libby herself. Stupid, stupid, said a contemptuous Sid. The jury was stupid.

Everybody thinks they know that Libby's death was caused by the inattention of exhausted doctors who'd offhandedly prescribed inappropriate medication, but that was not the story. Natalie Robins' 1996 book on the case closely examined everything about it. No, the hospital shouldn't have given Libby any Demerol, since she was on an antidepressant, but the amount of Demerol they gave her was too low to be effective, and there is no case on record where a person died from the mix and amount of drugs Libby was given.

The interns who worked on Libby's case weren't exhausted. One had just started work after having been off for the weekend, and the other had just come on duty for that shift. Interns and residents did routinely work long, tiring shifts, but not this time.

So the case was a mess. Libby died from a lot of things, a perfect storm of stuff that would converge and kill her with a 108-degree fever during that long night in 1984. We're still not sure exactly what did kill her. However, we do know that what didn't kill Libby was tired inattention from two exhausted interns, and yet the Libby Zion Law, which limits the work hours of hospital interns and residents, is mostly what Sidney Zion's obituaries have been about. This is what Sid is being remembered for: a cure for which there was no known disease.

And this is what DannyB will be remembered for. A spectacular solo worth 13 points. 8 for the hit plus 5 for the solo.

Thanks, Brad. 

Budd Schulberg (who has a son named Benn, of course) wrote the words we can all quote from On The Waterfront. (Or Raging Bull.) He was there at the hotel with Robert Kennedy when he was gunned down. He was the only person to have both won an Oscar and been elected to the International Boxing Hall of Fame. He named names. He had fistfights with John Wayne, Ernest Hemingway and he arrested Leni Reifenstahl. He was close friends with F. Scott Fitzgerald, who died in 1940, and Spike Lee, who wouldn't be born for another 17 years. With Lee, he was working on a film about Joe Louis and he knew Joe Louis. Over the course of a very long life, Schulberg knew just about everyone who was worth knowing. And many who weren't. These are the highlights of a life lived to the fullest. And I didn't know any of this before I read the obituaries. Which is why I love obituaries. They make me look smarter than I deserve.

What Makes Deepstblu Score? A lovely solo on the 95-year-old Schulberg. That's 2 points for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 7 

They were the forgotten people. Hidden away, ignored, only referred to in whispers. Eunice Kennedy Shriver was determined to rid the world of the shame of being mentally disabled, for she had grown up with the damage and she was having no more of it. One hot day she opened her house and grounds to kids for whom there was no summer camp and jumped in the pool to play with them. Now this was the South and this was the 1960's and these kids were not all white. But that was Eunice. She knew that exceptional children could be exceptional athletes and she just kept jumping in the pool with them. The first Special Olympics was held mere weeks after her brother Bobby was killed. Nothing ever held her back. Her profile was as courageous as they come.

The most admired Kennedy has died at 88. Buford, Busgal, Direcorbie, Exuma, Fireball, I Drink Your Milkshake, Lurker3791, Mort Chewary and Sis each get 5 points for jumping into the pool with Eunice Kennedy Shriver. 

I was having a whole bunch of trouble writing Les Paul, so I asked Matt Kruk to give me a hand. Knowing that he has something like 10,000 records in his basement, I thought he'd have an idea or two. He did. This is a bit of a combined effort. TYVM, Matt.

Lester will never learn music.

That's what a long-forgotten piano teacher said to Lester Polsfuss' mother. Lester didn't just learn it, he revolutionized the composing of it, the synthesizing of it, the reverberation of it, the multi-track recording of it, the overdubbing and playback speed of it, the amplification of it and of course, the rock, country and jazz guitar-playing of it.

He was a gadget guy. He created a harmonica holder from a coat hanger and amplified his Sears acoustic guitar via a pickup from a dismantled Victrola. He later built a guitar pickup from earphone parts from a ham radio and a recording machine from a Cadillac flywheel part.

He wanted more chord sustain so he created "The log," the first rudimentary solid body guitar out of a railroad tie in 1941. He hid the works inside of a conventional looking guitar because it was so odd-looking. This was the start of processing an electronic signal into amplified sound which changed the whole nature of guitar playing.

Then there was the Gibson Les Paul guitar, which accounted, at one point, for half of Gibson's sales, bought by pros like Clapton and Page and amateurs like you and me.

He always wanted more. More music, more gadgets, more gigs, more playing time. He was performing at the Iridium in NYC as recently as June. He's in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the National Inventors Hall of Fame and probably a few other Halls of Fame, as well.

Alas, Les is no more. He died last week at the age of 94.

The ladies Brigid, Busgal, Charlene and Kixco have been joined by the boys Eternity Tours, Hulka (First. Hit. Of. The. Year.) and RH Draney (Out. Of. The Cellar.)

They each get two points. 

He was a typical Southern California kid. Loved the outdoors, loved the Lakers and the Angels, loved to rock out with his friends, even loved to play golf. A little less typical were the billboard chart-toppers, "Miserable," "Ziplock" and "My Own Worst Enemy" Allen Shellenberger made with his band Lit. They were together for something like 20 years and were the best of friends from start to finish. He was living the dream. (He made a music video with Pam Anderson, after all.) Until he was living the same nightmare Ted Kennedy is living. The Lit drummer was diagnosed with a brain tumor and lived only another 15 months. He was just 39.

Nice tribute video. Seemed like a good guy.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujxrE1IReqQ

DDT (which probably causes brain tumors) gets the hit for Shellenberger. That's a whopping 25 points. 20 plus 5 for the solo. Good work. Knocks me out of second. 

"Did you ever have a favorite uncle, someone you idolised who would come to see you every once in a while and just light up your day? That's where I was with Walt."

(Man, if ever there was an update for Bill, this was it. Too bad.)

She was four, he was a bit older. He saw her in an ad for Warneke Bread ("I was posed," Davis later recalled, "reaching for a slice of the bread and my mouth seemed to say 'Yum Yum'.") and he just had to have her.

I mean for his films, the madcap Alice films, the first of which was Alice's Wonderland, which and was partly shot in the Davis home! (Oh that clever Walt. Saves on studio rentals.) The Alice films were very successful and were responsible for getting Walt Disney Studio off the ground.

When Virginia's family tried to renegotiate the contract after the success of the 13 films, Walt was having no part of that and recast Alice. The rest of her film career was insignificant, and she very often appeared in the role of "uncredited."

Virginia Davis was a success for that cheap bastard Walt Disney even before the mouse, Mickey. But as we now know, cartoon characters live forever. And although Virginia Davis tried her damndest, she only lived to 90. RH Draney gets his second hit of the week, a fine solo that gives him a total of 7 points. 

Fucking Novak, "the Prince of Darkness." He was scum from Jump Street. Even when this douche bag was a so-called liberal, he was nothing more than floating sewage.

Prior to the 1972 presidential election, Novak cited an unnamed, "high-ranking U.S. Senator" as the source of this quote he ran in his column:

"The people don't know McGovern is for amnesty, abortion and legalization of pot. Once middle America — Catholic middle America, in particular — finds this out, he's dead."

This quote and the Thomas Eagleton fiasco destroyed George McGovern's campaign. In 2007, after Eagleton had died, Novak reported that Senator Eagleton was his source. Eagleton was unavailable for comment.

The Prince trashed Nixon dog H.R Haldeman, not because Haldeman was a Nixon dog, but because H.R. refused to speak with him — his feelings were hurt. Ah, journalistic integrity — this asshole had none.

But Novak came into his own *exposing* intelligence documents (he knew to be fake) that purportedly incriminated the recently assassinated Chilean Orlando Letelier in 1976. If there was an opportunity to act wholly without ethical principles, without basic decency, to replace honesty with dishonesty, Robert Novak embraced that opportunity — he seized that moment.

If there was a chance the self-loathing Novak could bash Jews and praise the Palestinians, he took it; going so far as to blame Israel for the exodus and for the plight of Christian Palestinians. He once compared the Israeli policy toward Palestinians with South Africa's apartheid. He considered Hamas freedom fighters.

In 2003, at the behest, of the Lord of the Underworld, Dick Cheney, through his impish-like Renfield, Karl Rove, this present-day resident of the 8th Level of Hell Robert Novak, outted a CIA operative in his newspaper column along with the name of the front company she was employed with. Now, it's true, I don't give a fuck about the CIA, *but*, she was a soldier in the service of her country ...

Then there was Don Liljenquist, the 86-year-old pedestrian who Novak knocked down while tooling through D.C. in his Corvette. You know, the pedestrian he never saw because of brain tumor. Novak would later write:

"Fortunately, the investigating officer, P. Garcia, was a policeman who listened and apparently believed me.

And ...

"Officer Garcia issued a right-of-way infraction against me, costing me $50, instead of a hit-and-run violation that would have been a felony. Following Officer Garcia's instructions, I promptly paid the $50 fine at Third District Police Headquarters in Northwest Washington, in cash and in person."

In other words, this fucktard *drove* away from the scene and paid the ticket as soon as possible to insure there would be no more prosecution. Funny how a brain tumor works. What manner of douchbaggery *is* this?

Throughout his life, Robert Novak always blamed someone else for his insidious deeds. His brain tumor excuse, after all the misery this slimy cocksucker visited upon this world, rings as hollow as "I was born with the defect."

He was, in his own mind, a victim until the end:

"But Joe and Valerie Wilson, attempting to breathe life into the Valerie Plame 'scandal,' issued this statement: 'We have long argued that responsible adults should take Novak's typewriter away. The time has arrived for them to also take away the keys to his Corvette.' "Thanks to my tumor, the Wilsons have achieved half of their desires. I probably never will be able to drive again, and I have sold the Corvette, which I dearly loved."

Cry me a fucking river, Bob.

Bob ain't the only one crying a river. Unbelievably, Robert Novak lived to the age of 78 ... I mean, he would have been worth so much more had he died 50 fucking years ago. Still, Allen Kirshner, Amelia, Another Lurker, Bill Schenley, Buford, Bushwhacker, Charlene, Dead People Server, Death Eaters, DDT, Denise (pump your fist, Denise), Erik, Hulka, I Drink Your Milkshake, James Neibaur, Moldy Oldies, Mr. Brink, Philip, Ray Arthur, Sis, Undertaker and Yersinia Pestis all get eight points. Sorry, no bonus points for this kill, kids. Too many players were waiting none too patiently for his decent. Total: 8. 

Nova Scotian Muriel Duckworth fought for women's rights, for social justice, for better education. And, as strange as it may sound, she fought for peace. She marched, she screamed, she organized. No war. Never. Didn't see the point of them. Thought they were particularly bad for women and children. Didn't understand why everyone didn't join her in the trenches of the anti-war movement. See how easy it is to use war metaphors when you're talking about peace? She founded the Voice of Women in Toronto in 1960 in response to the failure of the Paris Peace talks, and a few months later formed another chapter in Halifax. A military town, where they would heckle her in the streets. She shrugged off the criticism because it was her undying belief (and she lived to 100 so she was undying for a long time) that war is stupid. She yelled as much, every chance she got and did it right up to the end of her life, protesting the latest obscene contribution to the history of war courtesy of her neighbor to the south. She won lots of awards and medals and honours and that's Canada for you. In the US, they would have thrown her in jail. They say that Muriel Duckworth, who has died at 100, is finally at peace. But I don't believe it. From the sound of it, she was ready to go another 100 years.

Chipmunk Roasting gets the hit and solo for a total of 6. You go, girl. And war is stupid. 

This is the thing. You have to make one of those charts. Two columns. Good stuff on one side. Bad stuff on the other. And then you, as recording angel, have to look at this double-entry bookkeeping and decide for yourself whether it all balances out. Some think it does. Some think it never will.

As for me, I think he had many years to redeem himself and that he did. He could have turned his back on his fatherless nieces and nephews and he did not. He could have spent his years in the Senate waiting for the recesses and he did not. He was a tireless champion for the poor, the sick, the underserved, the children, you and me. His accomplishments are too many to name here. He did what he said his brother wanted to do. He saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it. Read the obits. It's all there. The bad stuff, the good stuff and everything in between.

Teddy Kennedy, the only Kennedy brother to pretty much know when he would die, has done so. He was still quite young, but old by Kennedy brother standards. He was 77.

Allen Kirshner, Allezblancs, Another Lurker, Busgal, Bushwhacker, Buford, Charlene, Chipmunk Roasting, Dannyb, DDT, Dead Batteries, Death Eaters, Dead People Server, Denise, DGH, Direcorbie, EdV, Erik, Emily, Eternity Tours, Excard, Garrett, Hulka, I Drink Your Milkshake, James Neibaur, Jazz Vulture, Kathypig1, Kixco, Mark, Monarc, The Monkey Farm, Mort Chewary, Mr. Brink, Philip, Ray Arthur, Sis, Starfish and Undertaker each get 8 points. We welcome our newest and youngest player, Emily, to the pool! We welcome veteran player Excard to the pool! 

Abdul Aziz al-Hakim was the leader of the Supreme Islamic Iraqi Council and a fierce opponent of Saddam Hussein. But until the US accomplished its mission, he lived in exile in Iran. This might have had a little something to do with the fact that Saddam ordered 6 of his brothers to be murdered. After we murdered Saddam, he forged a relationship with us, and we helped him get treatment for his lung cancer, because we have extremely good healthcare here in America for Shiite power brokers. Really, it's true. It was a bad time to get sick and die, as they are in the process of "building a new Iraq." But he wasn't murdered by Saddam or anyone like him. Abdul Aziz al-Hakim committed suicide by chain smoking and died at 59. I may have oversimplified the whole Iran/Iraq political history bit. You weren't going to read it anyway.

DDT, making an end run directly into first place in the AO deadpool gets the hit, the solo and the daily double (with his Dominick Dunne pick) So close to the trifecta, so close. The total is 29 points. (14+5+10) This is very impressive. And I just took a look at his master list and he's not done yet. 

Not many people could pull off those glasses. (I mean this in the fashion sense.) But there were many aspects to his life that distinguished him from others. His beat, after he screwed up his Hollywood career and marriage with booze and drugs, was crimes of the rich and famous. You name the handsome or rich bounder, and Dunne was there to cover the proceedings. But he never pretended to be objective. He always sided with the victim and the bereaved which in his case, was his daughter and him. Dominique Dunne was murdered by her boyfriend who didn't serve much in the way of time, and that altered the remainder of her father's life. All that reporting, all that sitting in heady courtrooms, all that hobnobbing with the seamy side of celebrity, made him a mint, and took care of his rage. It also made him the kind of celebrity he was covering. Decades after being dumped in Hollywood for whatever you got dumped for in those days, the same people were inviting him in for drinks and stopping by his lunchtime table at whatever the trendy restaurant was that he was holding court in that year. All that aside, he was a good writer and a popular one, too, and that's not easy to pull off. Ever.

Yet another famous brother has died. (After a Kennedy and a McCourt) Dominick Dunne has died at 83. Five points to DDT, Death Eaters, Direcorbie, EdV, I Drink Your Milkshake, Philip, Sis and Team Bubba, All but one had Kennedy, too. (But no Daily Double.) 

Mady Rahl was a German actress with very blonde hair and a smoky voice. In a 70-year acting career, she appeared in more than 120 films. As a young actress in Berlin, she met the even younger Detlef Sierck with whom she made some films, including his directing debut and enjoyed a "special relationship." Before he fled what she did not feel the need to flee, because she didn't have a Jewish wife, he introduced her to the heads of the studios and got her career going. Detlef Sierck took the German out of his name and went on to become the master of melodrama. (Think Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman.) She kept the German in and became the toast of the Third Reich. Her most special admirer was Josef Goebbels, who was a big fan of her light musical comedies. She helped with the war effort by appearing in propaganda films, posters, leaflets, and the like. I think we can safely assume she had that Aryan appeal going for her. In an effort to be fair (for some demented reason) I will tell you that I'm reading a wonderful novel at the moment all about the making of propaganda films in Britain during the war, so I have a pretty good sense of what might have gone on in Berlin. During wartime, actors need to eat and avoid getting killed and will pretty much do anything to achieve those two goals.

You'll find Frau Rahl in the trailer of this fantastic film from the 50's, about halfway through [ Youtube link ] and in a 1992 interview. Don't know German, so god knows what she's saying [ Youtube link ].

Mady Rahl was 94. What a great hit from the new and improved list of Allen Kirshner. He gets Zwei for the hit und Funf for the solo. Total: Sieben. 

It's slightly bizarre to write an obituary for someone whose name is synonymous with survival. Lord Buxton made billions from the creation of Anglia TV. (I know this because he was the third billionaire in a week to die. They were all in a tizzy at Forbes.) But he was much more interested in getting to the bottom of the booming call of the bittern. Very devoted to the earth and its wondrous creatures and stuff, he won a gazillion awards for producing a natural history series called "Survival." There was a show about tracking zebra movements by fitting them with red collars, there was a show about kangaroos that was all songs, there was a show about greenfly and what rose-growers do about them, there was a show that focused on colonies of herons and egrets in South Africa being attacked by age-old monitor lizards. I see shit like this on TV when I'm going around the dial, and I can't click off fast enough. I'm in the minority, I gather, because Lord Buxton's "Survival" ran for 40 years. Lord Buxton did a little better himself, running for a little over 90. An inspired hit for McKie, who gets 2 points for the hit and 5 for the solo, for a total of 7. 

I thank James Neibaur who I asked to do this little update because he actually knew the guy.

Frank "Junior" Coghlan always laughed about being called Junior, even after he'd passed age 80. He died at the age of 93, having been one of the last living members of Hollywood's golden age whose career dated back to silent movies. He, himself, might not have been well known, but he appeared in films like PUBLIC ENEMY, ANGELS WITH DIRTY FACES, GONE WITH THE WIND, and is best remembered as Billy Batson in the 1941 CAPTAIN MARVEL serial. Appropriately, his last known appearance was in a cameo on the 1974 Saturday morning version of the Marvel series, SHA-ZAM. His autobiography, "THEY STILL CALL ME JUNIOR," is a treasure trove of anecdotes from 50 years in Hollywood films, and working with everyone from James Cagney to Steve McQueen.

Anything else you could possibly want to know about him is here: www.goldensilents.com/kids/frankcoghlan.html

You can call Mr. Brink a winner. That's 2 points for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 7 

Once again, thanks to Brad Ferguson, who has decided to help me out of this mass celebrity dying thing that's going on. Hope he doesn't mind my editing.

Army Archerd was an actual by-God reporter ... The fact that he worked the Hollywood beat shouldn't be held against him .... Army inherited Sheila Graham's column in Daily Variety in 1953 and kept it going until 2005, long after the industry he began covering in mid-century had died and rotted away and been replaced with something that we haven't quite figured out what it is yet .... Army kept up with everything ... He even started a blog not long after the column ended ... Army was the Academy's official red-carpet greeter at the Oscars for almost fifty years ... He was a familiar presence on television ... usually as a reporter but sometimes as an actor playing a reporter .... He co-hosted and co-produced the People's Choice awards show since it started in 1974 ... But, first and foremost, Army had that column ... In the first paragraph of nearly every one of Army's obits, there's a mention of his biggest story ever: Back in 1985, Army was the first to report that Rock Hudson had AIDS ... This was a staggering revelation at the time ... Rock Hudson was by far the biggest name to have been linked to AIDS at that point ... Army drew a lot of heat for that one until it became clear that he was right ... A decade later, Army called out Michael Jackson for bizarrely including anti-Semitic lyrics in a song called "They Don't Care About Us" .... Jackson pretended that he didn't understand the lyrics were offensive, and he told Army he would re-record the song with new lyrics .... However, the offensive lyrics were included in the video that was issued a few months later .... Army was in the navy during World War II, and he spent a lot of time in shipyards ... That's where he was routinely exposed to asbestos ... which likely gave rise to the mesothelioma that killed him on 8 September at the age of 87 ... Stop the presses .... Ray Arthur had the last of the three dot journalists .... He gets 5 for the hit ... He gets 5 for the solo ... Total ... 10 ... nice one ... 

Guest update by Brad Ferguson again, and again it's wonderful:

When the first thing mentioned in your obit is that you helped create and sustain the classic TV series M*A*S*H, you've done well. Everybody knows about M*A*S*H, even if they don't know what those goddamn asterisks are doing there.

Larry Gelbart got his big break from Danny Thomas, back when Larry was only 16. Larry's father was Danny's barber. Papa Gelbart says I've got this kid, he's in high school, and he's funny. Danny says tell him to write something and give it to me, and I'll see if it's funny. Larry did. Spit take! Danny hired Larry to write for The Maxwell House Coffee Time radio show after school. Two years later Larry was writing for another radio show called Duffy's Tavern, which was a big hit in those days.

That was when Larry got drafted. It was 1947, the time of the postwar draft, when the government kept calling guys into the service mostly because they didn't seem to know how to stop themselves. It would have been cool if they'd sent Larry to Korea, but they didn't. Instead, they assigned Larry to write for the Armed Forces Radio Service, which meant he could live at home with his parents even though he was in the army. He could also keep right on writing for Duffy's Tavern, too. Now is that M*A*S*H*Y or what?

Around 1950 Larry moved up to writing for people like Bob Hope. This was the era when comedians stood there and peppered their audiences with jokes about all sorts of things, most of them their mothers-in-law. Standup is now more observational and sometimes just plain weird, and it requires a brick wall. Not then, though. There were jokes, and the jokes had to be funny, they had to build, and they had to sound like the guy telling them had written them himself. The last part was the hardest.

It helped when the guy you were working for appreciated what you were doing for him, like Bob Hope did. Then there was Red Buttons, who had a flop TV show starting in 1952. Larry worked for Red for a while. Red was a desperately insecure person and a terrible boss. Ratings plunging and formats changing almost weekly, Red once hefted Larry's script for that week in his hand, unread, and then cast it away because "it doesn't feel funny." Larry generously forgave him. Eventually. While Red's career was falling into a death coma, Larry moved on to write for Your Show of Shows and, a little later, Caesar's Hour. He also wrote for variety shows hosted by Dinah Shore and Danny Kaye.

Larry wrote movies — The Thrill of It All, Movie Movie, Tootsie, Barbarians at the Gate, and others. Larry also did Broadway. His best-known work is A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, for which he won a Tony in 1963. He also won a Tony for City of Angels in 1990. One of Larry's least known works is a thing called The Conquering Hero, a musical from 1961 that ran only eight performances on Broadway and led Larry to say, "If Hitler is alive, I hope he's out of town with a musical."

And he was here in a.o. once, sort of, in crossposts from alt.tv.mash. Last 29 December, someone with a gmail address posted in alt.tv.mash (with a crosspost to alt.obituaries) that Larry had had a terrible stroke and was dying in the hospital. Alan Alda and Woody Allen were said to be at Larry's bedside and, presumably, sucking all the life force out of the hospital with dour observations. This nonsense went on all morning. Early that afternoon, Larry posted, "Does that mean I can stop exercising? I'm afraid I'm still alive and kicking — at least until George W finally finds the right door and uses it. Larry Gelbart." To that, said Bill Schenley, "Fuck. Now I gotta redo my 2009 deadpool list." And if that isn't a cue, I don't know what is.

In a shared stroke of strategic genius, Dead People Server, Denise, DGH and Ray Arthur kept Larry Gelbart, who has died at 81, on their lists, despite his newsgroup disavowal of ill health. They each get 5 for the hit. 

Before all the textile factories left the country to abuse foreign workers, they were doing it down south to people like Crystal Lee Jordan, folding towels for a couple of dollars an hour or losing fingers reloading looms. One day, Crystal met a charismatic union organizer from up north and changed the world, if only briefly.

Crystal Lee probably didn't say, kavetch, kavetch, kavetch, but she did see to it that the Amalgamated Clothing Workers organized the J.P. Stevens Plant.

Crystal Lee didn't win an Oscar, just slightly better conditions for the working poor.

Crystal Lee didn't see a lot of historical accuracy in the film Norma Rae, and that's why it's called Norma Rae and not Crystal Lee. But that big scene, the one we all remember, that one was real. That's the way it happened. That's the way it was filmed and that's the scene that earned an Oscar for Sally Field. Crystal Lee kept a photo of the scene on the wall in her house. Because of course, there wouldn't have been a shot of the original, what with the lack of cell phone cameras in those days.

The textile plants are all gone and now so is Crystal Lee. She was 68 when she died last week. EdV confused me by using her first married name and the obits were all under her second or third married names. Whatever. He gets 11 for the hit, and 5 for the solo. Total: 16.

UNION. 

This may be the best one yet. Thanks, Brad. I'll get the next three.

Maybe the secret of Patrick Swayze was that he was a dancer who didn't look like a dancer. He moved and walked and ran with an accomplished dancer's grace, and he made his bones in a film called Dirty Dancing, but he came off more like the bouncers and cowboys and bank executives he played on film. Swayze defied stereotypes. Not even Fred Astaire could pull that off. Whenever you saw Fred, you'd say there's that dancer guy who acts. Swayze was always that actor guy who danced sometimes.

It's all in the genes. Swayze's mother, Patsy, was a ballet instructor, and so young Swayze learned ballet. He also learned how to play football, which he did very well indeed until he blew out his knee in college. The knee also kept Swayze from dancing, but he got it fixed up well enough to go to ballet school in New York when he turned 20. Three years later he married Lisa Niemi, whom he'd met when he was 18 and she 14, and they stayed married for 34 years.

Around that time, Swayze was principal dancer with Eliot Feld's modern-ballet company, and he appeared on Broadway in the musicals Goodtime Charley and Grease. At the end of the '70s, Swayze made his first film, a roller-disco thingie called Skatetown USA that starred Scott Baio, Flip Wilson, the guy who used to be the Unknown Comic on The Gong Show, and a number of other TV burnouts. Nowhere to go but up, and Swayze did. He had an affecting role in a ninth-season episode of M*A*S*H called "Blood Brothers," in which he plays a private who learns he has leukemia.

Swayze began to get film work. In Red Dawn, he played the leader of a guerilla group fighting troops occupying the western United States during World War III. A year later he drew attention in a TV mini-series called North and South. He appeared in the sequel the following year as well.

And a year after that came Dirty Dancing. This was a film nobody cared about. It was about stuff going on at a resort in the Catskills in the early 1960s, for God's sake, and nobody cared about crap like that even then. Dirty Dancing was supposed to go direct to video, but they threw it into theaters for a weekend, just in case. It clicked with audiences, mostly because of Swayze. Jennifer Grey was cute as a button, but she really couldn't dance for shit, and by the end of the film she's up on a stage smiling and lamely flipping the hem of her skirt back and forth in time to the music while Swayze is on the dance floor tearing up the joint.

Then there was the post-mortem romance Ghost, a huge success generally and for Swayze personally. Ghost allowed Swayze to take some risks in later roles. He could have done Ghost again — he could have done a dozen Ghosts — but instead he did City of Joy, where he played a doctor working in a miserable Calcutta clinic. In To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar, he played a drag queen named Vida Boheme, and he made her real and funny and lovable. Many consider To Wong Foo to be Swayze's best film.

Other films followed, including Donnie Darko, in which Swayze played a pedophilic motivational speaker. There was Three Wishes, in which he played a ghost again. He also worked on the stage, on Broadway in the musical Chicago in 2003 and then, in London's West End, as Nathan Detroit in Guys and Dolls three years after that.

Swayze was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer twenty months ago. He would undergo treatment, and he would rally, and then he would lose a little. Even in his illness, he starred in a TV series called The Beast, in which he played a troubled FBI agent. It was shot during 2008 and ran on A&E early this year, and Swayze drew rave reviews for his work. Last June they announced that the series, although a success, would not be picked up for a second season. They did not want to continue without Swayze, and Swayze could not continue. He was finally done, but he had finished on his own terms.

At the end, Patrick Swayze was still dancing as fast as he could. It just wasn't fast enough. It never is.

41 poolers got together on this astonishing pick. They are, in alphabetical order (one hopes) Abby, Allen Kirshner, Allezblancs, Another Lurker, Bill Schenley, Buford, Busgal, Bushwhacker, Charlene, Constant Irritant, DDT, Dead People Server, The Death Eaters, Deepstblu, Denise, DGH, Direcorbie, EdV, Erik, Eternity Tours, Garrett, Hulka, I Drink Your Milkshake, James Neibaur, Jazz Vulture, JD Baldwin, Kathi, Kathypig1, Kixco, Mark, Max Weder, Monarc, Moldy Oldies, Mr. Brink, Nova Cassius, Philip, Ray Arthur, Sis, Starfish, Undertaker, The Wiz, and Yersinia Pestis. Each one gets 14 points. 

In the early 60's, when folk music had its every-few-decades revival, there was, for the most part, The Kingston Trio, The Highwaymen, and Peter, Paul and Mary. Mary Travers, the blonde-banged beauty whose smile would light up the most somber protest, and who was one-third of PP&M, has died at 72.

More than any of the other commercially successful folk groups of the day, Peter, Paul and Mary legitimized that genre of music for top-forty radio and, because they shared the same manager (Albert Grossman) brought to the forefront of popular music a young folk singer from Minnesota who went by the name of Bob Dylan. For the next few years, the group would showcase Dylan's early protest songs. But a few years later, when Dylan would go electric, the boom that had been folk, slowly disappeared.

Five years ago, Mary Travers, Paul Stookey, Peter Yarrow, Ramblin' Jack Elliott, Dave Van Ronk and Travers' mentor, Pete Seeger, released a critically acclaimed boxed CD set entitled "Lifelines." A year later, Travers was diagnosed with leukemia. Despite a temporarily successful bone marrow transplant, by June of this year it had become apparent that all her bags were packed and she was ready to go.

AO's resident music expert, Busgal, is the only deadpool player to guess that Travers' life was blowin' in the wind. She gets 8 for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 13.

    (Schenley) 

I've been working on an anagram for Irving Kristol. The letters are good and honestly, it's easier than boring you with his upbringing in Brooklyn and his education in Alcove #1 in the CCNY cafeteria, his membership in the YPSLs (Young Peoples Socialist League, which was less about socialism and more about meeting girls, and where Irving met his wife, I must point out) and his conversion from the left to the right. (The idea of supporting the Republicans, he said, was once as foreign to him as attending a Catholic Mass.) I could attempt to paint an historical picture of Kristol and his crowd and where they ended up on the political spectrum, but you would do better to add to your queue the documentary Arguing the World, which tells the tale of two Irvings — Howe and Kristol — plus Nathan Glaser and Danny Bell. (He's really Daniel, but in my house, he was always Danny, because my mother knew him when they were in their 20's and he was still Danny then.) Bell created a genealogy of all the New York Intellectuals by generation. Fascinating stuff to a certain type.

www.pbs.org/arguing/nyintellectuals_geneology.html

As for Irving K, the godfather of neo-conservatism, he's dead now. And even though he tells me he can't figure out why he put him on his list, Another Lurker gets a sparkling solo. 5 for the hit, 5 for the solo. Total: 10. That's right up there with one of the best solos of the year.

Here's the obit from the Economist, which is simply splendid:

www.economist.com/obituary/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14492286

I gave up on the anagram.

Arthur Ferrante was half of the popular duo, Ferrante and Teicher, who made beautiful music together, yet died in reverse order.

Teicher was a hit in the 2008 deadpool, and Bill had the pleasure of writing that one. Now that Bill no longer carries his weight in the writing of the updates (he's fallen in love and that takes up most of his time and time management has never been his strong suit) it falls upon me to write a little something about Ferrante that he didn't already write about Teicher.

Let's see. Well, it's the end of an era, for sure. We won't be hearing light orchestral fare from anyone else, will we? On the other hand, their early 1950s albums of prepared piano pop were masterpieces of the space age, goofy, inventive, catchy, and influenced by John Cage, something nobody had ever tried before. (Full disclosure: I swiped that last sentence from the internets.)

Ferrante and Teicher have closed their pianos for good. Last year, Garrett had Teicher. This year, Undertaker is tickling the deadpool ivories. That's 5 for the hit and 5 for the solo. Total: 10.

Oh yeah, he died in Florida, in Longboat KEY. And he was 88, the number of .... Thanks, Brad. Thanks, RH.