Our Time

With the amount of rain we have been having, outdoor activities have gone underground. While plenty of sunshine and good times await us, I also enjoy a good rainstorm [minus any flooding damage]. With rain comes, for me, a peaceful feeling. I'm more in touch with nature than other times. Watching the power and ferocity of a mighty storm is a contact high for me. It sounds corny but I do feel a real closeness with the Higher Power. The word ''awesome'' is not a word I use often because it is one of the most overused words in the English language. In life, it is used as a favorite description for anything [''Dude, these fries are awesome!']. But, the power of weather is awesome to me, there is no other word to satisfy the definition of Mother Nature. It is at these moments that I watch the skies and feel the winds. It is Life's Great Special Effect. After experiencing this marvel, I usually beat a hasty retreat indoors..... And, indoors, on a bad weather day, be it rain or snow, comes the cozy time. The sky has darkened outside, and darkness, to me, means the comfort of the home hearth. Something about bad weather requires my body to shiver a little and a blanket becomes a body friend. Naturally, you need something to watch and something to drink and something to eat. A good nosh of the forbidden things that a healthy person preaches about, but, of which I have dedicated my life to imbibing [''Hey, you kill yourself your way, and I will kill myself my way!']. Also, what makes the package of indoor enjoyment the most special is a special person by you....... We call it cuddling. We call it intimacy. We call it love. It is all of those things when you have a special person to hold. Whatever your description of it is, it is mighty nice. The lights have been lowered, maybe, a low light or candle is on somewhere in the room. A fireplace is doing its thing, a warm companion to be lying in front of. Fireplace flames are different than a regular fire flame. Regular flames speak something of the harsh truths in life--- angry, devilish, a thing to put out or stay away from. But, looking at a fireplace flame, all is forgiven of the evils of fire. It is mesmerizing, a topic to be talked about. Somehow, in the heat of the flame, comes the gentleness of quiet thoughts shared. A peaceful flame brings confessions and feelings of snuggling closer. We, as humans, are drawn to the warmth, for it gives our bodies the safety that we always crave in life....... You must have something to drink. That doesn't mean alcohol necessarily. If you find your ease in water or coffee or a pop, that works.But, let's face it: spirits are the preferred liquid. Some people drink beer or hard alcohol. Wine is my stimulant. A nice glass of red. It soothes me, putting me in the mood of my surroundings. I am a pretty good drinker with all other alcohol, but, wine has always been my Achilles Heel. A couple of glasses and I am not so much flying, rather, than I am very mellow. And affectionate....... Food must be nearby, as it is in every facet of my life. A standard meal is most welcome. However, I've found the little taste bits are the most valuable. Popcorn, cheese [goes great with wine, as we all know], maybe, a spare pizza that has wandered into my home. Food and affection go hand and hand with me. I can eat with the best of them. And, I don't know what it is, but, there is something about food that triggers the enzymes in my soul. It awakens joy. I could eat during a good time or during a bad time. If a nuclear war starts, look for me to have a mouthful of cheeseballs or fries. Or, both at once. In the finest of Italian traditions, food is always a comfort tonic in a crisis. You could have lost your foot, been told you have ten minutes to live, or be ducking falling safes, and food is prescribed. And, it does the trick!!! So, when you add food to a romantic and cozy moment, like by a fireplace on a bad weather day, your joy knows no limits....... Now, the most important ingredient. You have the bad weather outside. You have the juice that you are drinking. You have the food. All three already make a successful evening indoors. But, what tips the scale---because it is the most important--- is someone to be by your side. Your Cuddle Person. It may be the person you are in love with, or, it may be a close friend, or, a dog. But, someone being there makes you feel more powerful in your love. Everything else is a distant second. You talk the talk that is most comfortable for you two, words that no one else need not hear. You speak from the heart, the most previous place to speak from. The outside world is just that: outside, away from you. Your world, all that you really need in life, is right here. The bad weather conditions is symbolic of the harshness of life. But, here in your arms, you have created a world of love. There is no better world to live in. And, your partner shows the love back at you, be it a lick from a dog, a hug of friendship, or a precious kiss from your special one. Whatever happens outside, in that cruel storm of the world, does not matter. You Are Here, where you always need and want to be. It is ''Our Time''........ The choice of what to watch is, of course, subjective. I wouldn't, however, suggest a film about tragedy and murder [turn on the news for that]. The movie must be romantic or humorous, or something that enhances the moment you have created. And, it must be agreed upon between both parties. No room for experimentation. Your viewing must be another familiar friend, the video version of a comfortable pair of slippers. Your eyes must glow from what you are seeing, for it is a reflection of all that you experiencing around you........ I love days and nights like these. You could give me a tour of the most fun and exotic places around the world, with rich and powerful people to hang with, and, I would still choose this moment. These are the times in life that are most valuable, what you work hard for and aspire to in your private life. The simple joy of love and expressing it simply. And, to think, all it takes is just simple bad weather outside........ It also takes the love inside........

Still Hanoi Jane

Sometimes, it is fun to hang someone by their own words....... ''This is Jane Fonda. During my two week visit to the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, I've had the opportunity to visit places and speak to a large number of people from all walks of life---workers, peasant farmers, dancers, historians, journalists, film actresses, soldiers, militia girls...... In the shadow of the Temple Of Literature I saw the Vietnamese actors and actresses perform Arthur Miller's play 'All My Sons', and this was very moving to me---the fact that artists here are doing American plays while U.S. imperialists are bombing their country. I cherish the memory of the blushing, militia girls on the roof of their factory, encouraging as they sang a song praising the blue sky of Vietnam---- these women, who are so gentle and whose voices are  beautiful, but who, when American planes are bombing their city become such good people. I cherish the way a farmer evacuated from Hanoi, without hesitation, offered me an American, their best air raid shelter while U.S. bombs fell near by........ As I left the United States two weeks ago, Nixon was again telling the American people that he was winding down the war, but in the rubble---strewn streets of Nam Dinh, his words echoed with sinister words of a true killer. And like the young Vietnamese woman I held in my arms clinging to me tightly--- and I pressed my cheek against hers--- I thought, this is a war against Vietnam perhaps, but the tragedy is America's. One thing is have learned beyond a shadow of a doubt in this country is we will never be able to break the spirit of these people, he'll never be able to turn Vietnam, North and South into a neo-colony United States by bombing, by invading, by attacking in any way. One has only to go outside and listen to the peasants describe the lives they led before the revolution to understand why every bomb dropped only strengthens their determination to resist. I've spoken to many peasants who talked about the days when the parents had to sell themselves to landlords as virtually slaves, when there were very few schools and much illiteracy, inadequate medical care, when they were not masters of their own lives. But now, despite the bombs, despite the crimes being created--- being committed against them by Nixon, these people own their land, build their own schools--- the children learning and illiteracy is being wiped out, there is no more prostitution as there was during the time when this was a French colony. In other words, they have taken power into their own hands, and they are controlling their own lives. And after 4,000 years of struggling against the nature and foreign invaders---- and the last 25 years prior to the revolution of struggling against French colonialism--- I don't think that the people of Vietnam are about to compromise in any way, shape or form about the freedom and independence of their country, and I think Nixon would do well to read Vietnamese history, particularly their poetry, and particularly the poetry written by Ho Chi Minh......... Jane Fonda, Radio Hanoi, July 19, 1972....... In a recent interview---to promote a new movie she is in--- Jane Fonda claims to have some remorse about her anti-Vietnam War crusade. She says it was a mistake to go to North Vietnam---- and, famously pose sitting on a huge gun that was used to kill the American troops---- and that she should be forgiven for her actions. She has learned, Ms. Fonda claims, that she was too knee-jerk [my words] in some of the things she has said about the troops........ Now, in hindsight, her feelings about the Vietnam War were very right. The war was wrong [or, it was fought wrong] and most Americans would probably agree that we should have never gone there in the first place. So, being ''anti'' the war is not a bad thing. Millions were then. I have no complaint with Ms. Fonda there. And, I will concede that we all do things, and say things, when we are younger that you naturally wince at as you get older...... Where I do have a problem with Jane Fonda is in her presentation of her ''apology''. The way I get it----as do many others who are detractors--- is that Ms. Fonda is not putting all of her heart into her apology. That is, in my opinion, she is saying she is ''sorry'' but without any true feeling behind it. Kinda like a spoiled kid made to say he is sorry just so everyone will leave him alone. He isn't really sorry, just that he wants to get the noose taken away from around his neck. Jane Fonda gives off that same feeling to me. Usually when she has apologized, it is to promote a new project. The new project, a movie, say, would be hurt financially if Jane took to her old radical pose. Therefore, she eases up on her past hatred of the establishment and their ''games'', just so she can enjoy the fortune of today. How Capitalistic, Janie!!!!...... Jane Fonda has gone down the road of saying she is sorry for her activities, like going to North Vietnam and meeting with the enemy---- which, legally, could have gotten her arrested for treason---- but, glaringly, she has not made the stop on the road she needs to visit the most: the Vietnam war veterans. These are the people she crucified in the press, both in Hanoi and back here and other countries abroad. She has labeled these proud troops ''murderers'' because they fought the war on the side of America. The fact that these ''murderers'' were mostly men drafted into the war [unlike Jane's rich friends and fellow protesters who got a draft deferment] and were put in a situation that horrible events unfolded in front of their eyes. These men--- and women--- were innocent average citizens in harms way. They were not going out looking for blood. They were defending their country in good and honest ways. Many did not return home after the war. And, many did, but they were wounded, some physically and some mentally. And, some suffered both. They came back broken and unloved for what they had done, called ''murderers'' by radical phonies like Jane Fonda. You can be against a war [I have been a few times]. However, I always support the troops. Jane Fonda never did. They were baby killers to her, the destructors of life........ I see Ms. Fonda on TV and I look at her eyes. It is the old actor in me, the observer of human actions and personality ticks. She is putting on a performance for the camera. And, she is quite good at it, for no one would ever deny her talent at acting and getting into character. It is all solid performance, full of the ''pain'' she feels by her actions. She is ''sorry''....... Our involvement in the Vietnam War ended in January, 1973, when the old enemy of Jane Fonda, Richard Nixon, signed the peace treaty to bring our troops home. Two years later, in April 1975, the last military equipment and troops left, basically, abandoning the people of South Vietnam and allowing the North and its communist killers to destruct and pillage the countryside. It has been estimated that millions of people died during this time. There are the famously horrible scenes shown of the Vietnamese boat lift, with desperate men, women, and children trying to escape with their lives. Some made it. And, some did not. Some, overcrowded in the leaky and unsafe boats, went down to their deaths in the ocean---- despite the big, bad, old imperialistic America that Jane Fonda slammed--- trying to help them. And, there was the horror of mass murderer. North Vietnam troops bludgeoned suspected traitors to their cause, using the killing of children in a bloody celebration of winning the war. For the Vietnamese people, despite the atrocities at what had come from the years of the war, this was the worst time..... Jane Fonda has always been aware of what her old friends in North Vietnam did during this time. True to form, she blames the media and the inflated figures of her enemies rather than face the harsh truth. This is, of course, the sign of a phony, someone who cannot handle the truth if it doesn't correspond with her preconceived notions. Until she is truly sorry---which seems unlikely, given her age and the fact she hasn't grasped the obvious by now---- she will forever be someone I consider as harmful..... And, someone whose movies will never be welcome to my eyes.....

A Sad Clown

It only took six minutes for the jury to make a decision, a remarkable thing when you consider the emotion of the trial and the alleged crime that was committed. For a jury to come back so quickly, it must have had a firm mind collectively about what had occured. This jury did. They knew the immensity of what they were about to say. The whole world was waiting. So, on this day in April, 1922, the foremen of the jury read the decision: not guilty. And, after he read this, a very strange thing happened. The jury read an apology, in open court, to the defendant. They were apologizing to the man sitting at the defense table for all that he had been through these last months. The unfairness and the public condemnation. The smearing by the press and the unforgiving public. The jury was not responsible for any of these actions. But, they, as decent human beings, felt like it needed to be said. The defendant, universally admired for his physical comedy, did what all sad clowns do....... He cried..... Roscoe Arbuckle was born huge. Coming into the world on March 24, 1887, he checked in at a healthy 13 pounds. Both of his parents were very skinny people, which made his father, a very cruel man, to declare that young Roscoe was not his. In fact, the name given to the child, Roscoe, was a personal swipe at a politician that the father despised, Roscoe Conkling. The mother was loving, however, to the baby. Unfortunately, The birth of such a big child turned out to be eventually fatal to the mother. She suffered from recurring health problems in young Roscoe's childhood, and, would die 12 years later..... As a child, Roscoe was very talented. A big showoff. He loved to sing and dance and seemed to have a natural ability to draw people to him. He was naturally shy---- a lifelong affliction---- so, performing, with his mother's encouragement, got him out of his shell and he made friends easily. He was such a natural, that at the age of 8, he was performing locally in talent shows. After his mother's death at 12 years old, the father, true to his harsh form treatment of his son, refused to support Roscoe. The boy, now a hefty teenager, was left to fend for himself and got odd jobs around his hometown of Santa Ana, California. He still performed in talent shows, always winning the audiences over with his fine voice and dancing. For a big teenager, Roscoe was quite agile onstage. Soon, as a young man, he would find his way into vaudeville and perform in various shows on the West Coast. By the age of 21, Roscoe had himself a solid living going, being a popular performer traveling the country doing his comedy. His specialty was physical schtick, juggling, falling down, using his face to grab the laughs. He was piling up good contacts in show business and eventually, Hollywood came calling. In 1909, he started making silent films [there were no other types of films back then. This was pre-sound] and found his way into the legendary Keystone Cops comedies. By his early twenties, Roscoe had grown to a huge weight, over the 300 pounds mark. It was around this time that he was given his nickname in movies that he loathed. The studio and its producers added the name ''Fatty'' to his given name. For the rest of his life, he had to live with the name Roscoe ''Fatty'' Arbuckle......Throughout the first dozen years of the 1900's, Roscoe Arbuckle steadily climbed the ladder of success in show business. He still appeared with the Keystone Cops in their enormously successful comedies. He also married, in 1908, to Minta Durfee. By 1914, Paramount came calling for his services. He and his frequent co-star, Mabel Normand, signed with the studio for big money, eventually, reaching $3 million dollars a year, an extraordinary sum for those times. Roscoe Arbuckle became a box office sensation, drawing in crowds by the millions and amassing a legion of dedicated fans. He was the John Candy of his day, beloved by all masses for his comedy and the sad face of a fat man. His weight, by 1916, had gotten so out of hand, that he developed an infection so severe that it was thought that he might lose his leg to amputation. He kept his leg and lost nearly a hundred pounds, rounding out around a still-hefty 260 pounds. Sadly, probably because of his infection, he developed an addiction to morphine and alcohol...... Although the public still called him ''Fatty'' Arbuckle, Roscoe enjoyed the attention and money that fame brought him. Women were also attracted by his stardom. They flocked around him and his glamour. For a shy, unwanted fat child, the attentions of the fairer sex must have gratified him. He was still shy, but alcohol helped overcome his shyness. He drank plenty, even with the strict Prohibition law in place. Roscoe liked to have a good time, anytime, with anybody, anywhere. And, so on September 5, 1921 in San Francisco, Roscoe and his friends decided to throw a wing-ding of a party...... Roscoe holed up in the St. Francis Hotel. He had two male friends with him, Lowell Sherman and Fred Fischbach. The three checked into three rooms, one of which, Room 120, was designated the party room. Coming along with the three rounders were several women invited to the party. You could call them ''loose women'' or hookers, depending on your viewpoint. But, all of those present liked to party, especially, during the restriction of alcohol because of Prohibition. Bathtub gin and other illegally smuggled items for the experienced juicer were plentiful. Soon, all of the party guests were getting drunk and randy with their libidos. But, a problem soon developed with one of the guests. Her name was Virginia Rappe, who claimed to be an aspiring actress. This was later to be proved to be untrue. However, at the party, Ms. Rappe was discovered to be seriously ill in one of the adjacent rooms to the party. The hotel doctor examined her and determined that her abdominal pain was caused by alcohol intoxication and shot some morphine into her to calm her........ Virginia Rappe was bad news. She was the type of person that all show business people seem to attract. The groupie leech that goes after the stars fame and wallet. She had a reputation as a party girl, someone who overdrank so much that she was a danger to be around. She suffered from chronic crystitis, a condition that needs a body to practice clean living. Certainly, alcohol and crystitis do not mix. In fact, booze could leave her in severe distress and pain. She developed a reputation for getting hammered at parties and tearing her clothes off from the resulting physical pain. She also, by several accounts, had several abortions in the span of just a few years. Rumor had it that she had recently had a recent abortion---- it was illegal, therefore, it was performed in a back room, sleazy place----- and her insides were still recovering from that. So, for two days after the party, she was in extreme pain with all of her ailments, compounded by her reckless drinking. After the second day, Virginia Rappe was rushed to the local hospital.......At the hospital, Rappe's friend who was also at the party, Bambina Delmont, told the attending physicians that Virginia had been raped at the party. Delmont named the famous comedian Roscoe ''Fatty'' Arbuckle as the culprit. The doctors examined Rappe for signs of rape but found no evidence that this had occured. The next day, while still in the hospital, Virginia Rappe died from peritonitis, caused by a ruptured bladder. Delmont told the police that Arbuckle had raped Rappe at the party and the police determined that, because Arbuckle was so obese, his body caused Rappe's bladder to rupture. Rappe's ''manager'', Al Semnacker, joined the accusation train and said that Arbuckle used a big piece of ice to simulate sex with Rappe, therebye, causing her internal injuries. In time, the ice would be embellished by urban legend into Arbuckle raping Rappe with a coke bottle......... Roscoe Arbuckle was arrested by the police on suspicion of rape and possible manslaughter. He steadfastly denied all of the charges, as did witnesses at the party. With the exception of Bambina Delmont, all of the partygoers supported Arbuckle's contention that there was no rape of Rappe. The ice that was supposedly used was in fact used. But, it was used by Arbuckle to rub on Rappe's stomach to try to ease her internal pain before the doctor was called. The people at the party attested to this vigorously. But, the police chose to believe the Delmont story more than the majority of eyewitnesses. Roscoe Arbuckle would be facing a trial....... The affects on the reputation and the career of Roscoe Arbuckle were swift and furious. The establishment came down hard on him. Immediately, overnight, this beloved comic was transformed into a predatory rapist and murderer. The newspapers, true to form, never let the facts interfere with a juicy story. Arbuckle was portrayed as a drunken lecher who prayed on innocent young girls, getting them drunk and taking advantage of them. Arbuckle, of course, was not like this at all, for he still retained his childhood shyness and awkwardness around women. But, yellow journalism, led by the despicable William Randolph Hearst and his chain of scandal sheets, went after Arbuckle with moral indignation. Soon, Arbuckle's career stopped dead in the water. Morality groups called for his execution, even before a trial started. Hollywood turned its back on him, with his pictures being banned now from playing. Despite public support from big stars like Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, Arbuckle was instantly blackballed in the industry he helped make rich. In the blink of an eye, Roscoe Arbuckle became Public Enemy Number 1........ Now that the lid was off and it was open season to go after the famous comedian Roscoe ''Fatty'' Arbuckle, the politicians came running hard to join the circus of the public lynching of a celebrity. San Francisco District Attorney Matthew Brady, who never saw a headline he couldn't exploit for his own purposes, publicly condemned Arbuckle. He also, by historical accounts, pressured witnesses, from the party and the hospital, to lie. Brady first zeroed in on the friend of Virginia Rappe, Bambina Delmont, during the indictment hearing. He planned to use this woman, who had a proven history of racketeering, bigamy, fraud, and extortion, to be his chief witness. The fact she was the only one at the party that contended that Arbuckle raped Rappe was the clincher. But, the defense had a trump card to play against Delmont. They had obtained a letter from Delmont admitting to a plan to extort money from Arbuckle. Brady, defeated after hearing this, decided that Delmont would not testify. The judge in the indictment hearing found no evidence of rape but he decided to go ahead with charges against Arbuckle. Why? Because one of the guests at the party, Zey Prevon, said that Rappe told her on her deathbed that ''Roscoe hurt me''. Incredibly, despite no evidence of rape and the testimony of the other witnesses, Roscoe Arbuckle was charged with first degree murder. It would later be reduced to a charge of manslaughter......There were three trials in total. The first trial consisted of prosecutor Brady bringing forth witnesses to testify against Arbuckle. All of the witnesses were shot down by the defense, showing the jury that their testimony was not credible, and, in some cases, perjury. The most affecting moment of the two week trial came with the testimony of Roscoe Arbuckle. What he basically said was the truth: he did not rape or harm Virginia Rappe at all. Arbuckle said he came across Rappe vomiting in the bathroom. She told him that she felt ill and asked to lie down. He carried her, in full view of other partygoers, to the bedroom and put her on the bed. He left the room to go talk to a few guests about helping her when he heard her having violent convultions on the floor. To calm her, the guests and him put her in the bathtub to cool her off. Then, Arbuckle called the hotel doctor who examined her and deducted she was just drunk and shot her up with morphine [the doctor was never investigated in this case for misdiagnosing Rappe. He should have been]. That was the last time Arbuckle saw Rappe. During his cross-examination by the prosecution, Arbuckle refused to buckle under the heat, no matter what was thrown at him in accusations. He left the witness stand a proud and honest man. On December 4, 1921, the jury, after deliberating for five days, came back deadlocked in its verdict. The jury leaned 10-2, not guilty. A mistrial was declared........ The second trial followed the first one almost verbatim. The prosecution put up questionable witnesses and the defense shot them down. One crucial difference was that Arbuckle never testified in his own defense. This made the jury suspicious and they came back again deadlocked, this time leaning towards a guilty verdict..... By the third and final trial, the defense finally found a jury who could agree. Roscoe Arbuckle testified this time and told the straight truth again. On April 12, 1922, this jury came in after just being out six minutes---- five of those minutes were spent writing a formal apology to Roscoe Arbuckle....... The apology stated: ''Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle. We feel that a great injustice has been done him. We feel also that it was only our plain duty to give him this exoneration under the evidence, for there was not the slightest proof adduced to connect him in any way with the commission of crime. He was manly throughout the case and told a straightforward story on the witness stand, which we all believed. The happening at the hotel was an unfortunate affair for which Arbuckle, so the evidence shows, was in no way responsible. We wish him success and hope the American people will take the judgment of fourteen men and women, who have sat listening to the evidence, that Roscoe Arbuckle is entirely innocent and free from all blame.''....... The jury did not legally need to do this. They did this because they saw how an innocent man was crucified in the public forum....... Roscoe Arbuckle would keep this statement from the jury the rest of his life. It must have given him a little comfort to know that there was some good that came from his fellow citizens during this time...... Because Virginia Rappe's organs were destroyed, it was not possible to finally determine what killed her. Many believe that he bladder ruptured because of her most recent abortion..... Roscoe Arbuckle was exonerated in the court of law but not in the public court. He was still a pariah in the industry that made him famous----and that he made tons of money for. His films were banned by the censors, who did not give a damn that this man was wrongly framed. You would think Hollywood would have rushed to his arms in forgiveness and embraced him. This was not the case. His first marriage crumbled, soon followed by a second marriage, as the years went on. Both of his ex-wives spoke fondly of him, saying he was a very nice man. Eventually, he would find work as a director under an pseudonym name, William Goodrich, directing minor comedies. Those who worked with him during this period report that he was a kind but sad man, completely brokenhearted. His spirit and joy in living life was gone. All that remained was the ghost of a once-great comic who did nothing wrong....... By 1932, after years of being shunned by the industry, Hollywood, finally, was ready to give Roscoe Arbuckle another chance. Warner Brothers signed a contract with him to make six, two-reel comedies. These films were the first time the public heard his voice on film. The comedies were very successful. He finished filming the last of the two-reel films on June 28, 1933. The next day, he signed with Warners again, but to make a full length motion picture. That night, he went out with some friends to celebrate his new deal and to celebrate the first anniversary of his third marriage. He exclaimed, ''This is the best night of my life!!''...... Later on that night, in his sleep, he suffered a heart attack and died. He was 46........ Today, Roscoe ''Fatty'' Arbuckle is forgotten. When he is mentioned by film lovers, it is because of the hotel scandal that ruined his life. Typically, people do not know the facts of the case and focus in on the urban legend of him raping Virginia Rappe with a coke bottle. That nothing happened that night eludes those who just want the juicy gossip. The press crucified this man, along with some self-appointed judges of public moral code, and he was finished in a blink of an eye...... Of course, those condemners never were called out for their actions. It is much easier to pick on a man who was called ''Fatty''........

Great Movie: ''Goodfellas''

The three men in the car hear an odd noise. It sounds like someone is pounding from inside the car. They look at each other in a suspicious way, saying, through profanity, that they must pull over and find out what the problem is. They pull to the side, away from the road on this most darkest of night, and cautiously approach the trunk, where they detect the source of the noise is. Gingerly, the driver takes out his keys and unlocks the trunk. Inside, we are startled to see a man lying there, bound and gagged and bleeding profusely. After this shock, the little guy, wielding a knife that has appeared out of nowhere, says, ''He's still alive, the fuckin piece of shit!'' And, then, the little guy stabs the victim in the trunk viciously. A moment later, the well-dressed man, who obviously is the leader of the three, plugs the trunk guy with shots from his gun. There is a moment of silence. It is broken by a voice-over from the first man, the driver. He intones, ''As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster''....... And, so begins Martin Scorsese's movie ''Goodfellas'', based on the book ''Wiseguy'' from Henry Hill, co-authored by Nicholas Pileggi. The book and the movie are based on the real-life exploits of Henry Hill, a low-level con-man/ thief who worked in the lower echelons of the Gambino mob family. The story in the movie tells of the years from 1955-1980, the years Hill ran with the mob and did its dirty deeds. Unlike many mobsters who eventually get caught, Henry Hill never stopped talking about his joy in the life of crime. There is the freedom of thumbing your nose at authority, and of stealing and murder. To be a successful mobster, one must erase whatever conscious you have that you are doing evil deeds. Once you have wiped the slate of integrity and decency from your mind, you are home free to enjoy the alleged glamorous lifestyle that comes with the job. Henry Hill sings the praises of the lifestyle, of the money and women and the cocaine. As he says in the film's narration, ''When we wanted something, we just took it.'' That code runs through the movie, a exhilarating joy ride through the amoral world of crime...... Martin Scorsese knows this world well. Early in the movie, a young Henry Hill watches the grown up hit men stand and strut on the streets of his neighborhood, the local heroes. Scorsese himself used to do the same thing as a kid. Growing up a sickly child, he watched the world of crime and religion co-exist through the safety of his window. Scorsese, the child, was laying the groundwork for Scorsese, the adult filmmaker, using his curiosity of himself and that ''other world'', and channeling that curiosity to his movie audience. Martin Scorsese has always excelled at presenting this closeted society of crime onscreen because he knew the world so well and has a fascination of this life. While he has shown his brilliance at other subjects in his films, it is the criminal world, the street thug, that his genius presents itself..... After the shocking opening scene, we are whisked back into the formulative years of Henry Hill, the years he watched and lusted after the local hoodlums. We see the story coming together. Scorsese, always an impatient director, does not slowly give us the pieces to the story in a leisurely pace but, rather, puts us on a ride, like you see at a carnival, that takes you in all different directions. We meet the Hill family, his blood family, that is a walking disaster of domestic and child abuse. And , we meet his other ''blood family'', the heroes he idolizes. Young Henry gets an after school job running errands for the hoods, and, soon, school is a forgotten place to go to for him. As a teenager, he is soon making more money in the neighborhood than most legit men who are out in the world. His father disapproves but Henry has left his real family behind in his quest to be an outlaw. Henry meets the local guys, like Paulie Cicero, the godfather of the area, who, it is said, ''didn't move much because Paulie didn't have to move for anybody''. Paulie, wonderfully played by the great Paul Sorvino, gives off all of the authority and confidence of a man who has spent his whole life with blood on his hands and soul and getting what he wants. But, the horrors of murder and stealing do not affect young Henry at all. He is now one of ''them'', selling illegal cigarettes and getting busted. When he is busted, he naturally gets off because the judges and the cops are all on the payoff. At first, Henry is ashamed he got caught. But, he is told by his mentor, Jimmy Conway, played by Robert De Niro, that he took his first pinch like a man. And, he did the two things you must do in this type of life: ''you keep your mouth shut. And, you never rat on your friends''. When Henry walks out of the courtroom, a free man, he is greeted by the neighborhood wiseguys, all celebrating that he has ''broke his cherry''....... By now, Scorsese has us. We are fully engrossed in the story. The older, young adult Henry Hill is now center stage. He is played by Ray Liotta, in a star-making performance. Liotta brings his considerable acting talents forefront, with a combination of naivete and world-weary acceptance as the film progresses. His first scenes still have the carry-over feeling that the younger scenes had. We see his glee at living among the guilty, strutting and talking like them, imitating their every move and action. Henry has driven forward in his natural way to robbing trucks and strong-arming people who have the misfortune to owe his friends money. And, his adult friends are a wicked breed. They are the now mature Jimmy Conway and the psychopath Tommy, played with frightening murderous gusto by Joe Pesci. Both men are killing machines but Tommy seems to be in love with murder. Threatening people gives him his zest for life. In a strange way, he is also fascinating to watch. Tommy is a ticking time-bomb, ready to explode at the drop of a hat. Don't try to tease him, or, to call him a ''funny guy''. He takes offense, or pretends to, to every description of him. In the famous ''How am I funny scene?'', we see the volcanic temper come to the surface at a moment's notice. It starts with his friend, Henry, telling Tommy that he is a funny guy. Where, then, Tommy, takes the innocent remark and twists it into a web of tension. We find out that he is kidding [maybe] with Henry but we have also glimpsed into the true character of these men. They live by their code, their opinions, their words. A unintentional statement or nod will must likely be fatal for you. This moment, the most memorable in the movie, both Liotta and Pesci give full range of their characters. They play the scene funny, then heart stopping dramatic, then back to funny again, all effortlessly and flawlessly. That the scene was, in fact, mostly improvised by the actors is even more extraordinary....... The other man is Henry's life, his mentor and local legend, is Jimmy ''The Gent'' Conway played by Robert De Niro. This type of mob role is not new territory for De Niro. But, he brings a freshness to the role. He leaves out all of the bluster and flash. That is Pesci's assignment in the movie. De Niro instead, plays the character close to the vest, an icy calmness of a proven killer. When he does explode onscreen, it is with his fists and feet, not with his words. In some ways, his Jimmy character is the most frightening in the whole story because, unlike Tommy and his viciousness, you don't see Jimmy coming from a mile away. He slithers up next to you, all smiles and snaky charm. It is this type of person who normally inhabits this world. The type of person who is smoking next to you being buddy-buddy. And, in the next moment, is kicking you to death on the floor...... Along with his mob buddies and fellow henchmen, Henry Hill falls in love. Or, his version of love. Her name is Karen, played wonderfully whiny by Lorraine Bracco. Karen is all stereotypical Jewish American Princess. She is, at first, angry at Henry because he shows no interest at her on their first date, and, then, stands her up on their second date. Soon, she falls for him. Or, more likely, falls into the glamour of his lifetsyle. She turns a blind eye to what he does, as do the other wives and girlfriends of these mob guys, and joyously celebrates he life and all the trappings of big money coming in. It is hard to tell if Henry and Karen truly love each other. Henry only really loves the gangster life. There is no time for his wife and kids. And, being married, he doesn't let his marriage interfere with his bachelor fun. After all, ''Saturday night is for the wives, while Friday night is for the girlfriends''. These excursions involve the famed Copacabana and the sunny locales of a luxurious vacation destinations. Henry juggles all of his world's, at first, with ease. But, the cracks are there. And, they become even more noticeable as the movie moves forward..... The middle scene in the movie is the most crucial moment in the whole story. It involves the victim in the trunk at the beginning of the movie. His name is Billy Batts, played brilliantly by Frank Vincent. Batts is a ''made man'', meaning he is a approved killer by the Gambino family. He can kill anyone but no one can mess with him. That is the code of the ''Family'' honor. To kill a ''made man'' means that, unless it has been approved by the higher ups in the ''Family'', you are now a marked man. This is the fatal mistake that Tommy makes one night because of a slight insult Batts made to him about his childhood shoe shine business. Tommy flips out and blood starts flowing. On the way to burying Batts, Henry, Tommy and Jimmy stop at Tommy's mother's house. There, in the middle of the night, the mother finds them rooting around in the kitchen looking for knives. In typical Italian fashion, Tommy's Mother, sweetly played by Catherine Scorsese, Martin's Mom, cooks them a big, grand meal. This scene brings the movie its biggest laugh [this must be said also for those who haven't seen this movie. There are plenty of free and easy laughs roaming around in the story, mingling nicely with the violence]. But, these moments of what they have just done to Batts really only registers with Henry. This was a serious error. One that will prove to be fatal...... From this point on, the film, which has moved at a brisk pace, goes into overdrive. And, the world that Henry Hill so adored begins to crumble. He is busted and sent to jail [another hilarious scene entails his incarceration}his wife finds out about his mistress, and, most alarming for him, he becomes hooked on coke while he is busy dealing it, which is against the wishes of Godfather Cicero. Soon, the paranoia rises, along with the ghost of Billy Batts. The Gambinos want to know who whacked Batts. They soon discover it was the three, Jimmy, Tommy, and Henry. But, the family can't kill them all. They need Jimmy for their earnings. And, Henry was a minor player. So, Tommy becomes the sacrificial lamb, and, in one the of the finest montages of music and filmmaking, the setting up and killing of Tommy is unfolded. The coda of the song ''Layla'' is played, with the carnage onscreen....... The last third of the movie, the Third Reel, it all comes unglued for Henry Hill in one intense day. It is May, 1980, and Henry is seriously addicted to cocaine. He gets high on his supply so often that it affects his judgement and clarity. He, by now, has also been smuggling guns along with drugs. Without realizing it, he has made himself a huge target for the feds. They are tracking his every move, even following him by helicopter. What follows in this one day is a piece of bravura filmmaking by Martin Scorsese. His camera, always a moving actor in all of his movies, is literally on fire during this section of the film. Rather, it is on coke, like its lead character. The editing, by Scorsese and the brilliant, invaluable Thelma Schoonmaker, shows a man whose world is closing in on him. The music is louder, more in-your-face. The scenes are fast-paced, befitting a man on a coke binge. The audience is on the edge of their seats because we know what is going to happen. When the hammer does strike down on Henry Hill, a gun at the back of his head and a cop barking orders to him, we breath a sigh of relief that he got what is coming to him.......The epilogue is simple. Henry turns state's evidence. The reason is simple: now that he has been caught by the government and most likely will serve a long jail term, he is now a marked man by his former ''family'' in the mob. They all want him dead because he may rat them all out, which is what Henry Hill does. Everyone, from Jimmy ''The Gent'' to Paulie Cicero gets nabbed. And, Henry, in court, testifies against them. But, what is curious about his testimony is how reluctantly Henry gives it. He doesn't want to turn against his friends. He loves the lifestyle. But, in his mind, he had to save himself. The verdict against his fellow gangsters is swift. Paulie Cicero get life in prison, where he dies in 1988. Jimmy Conway get twenty years to life. He dies in jail of cancer in 1996. The marriage of Henry and Karen Hill also bites the dust. After years of living in witness protection, they will divorce around 1990. Henry Hill will die of a heart attack in 2012....... When the film ''Goodfellas'' was released in 1990, it immediately was greeted with critical acclaim and rightfully anointed with the term ''classic''. It is a marvelous movie, freely moving back and forth between drama and comedy. The film never feels old even after constant repeat viewings. In fact, this is an example of a movie that must be seen often, at least once a year. It is the kind of film that if you come across it playing on TV, you will stick with it because it is so compelling to watch. The fact that this movie, a modern masterpiece on all levels, lost the Best Picture honor to the contrived and overpraised ''Dances With Wolves'' is a travesty in good taste and an example of Oscar meaninglessness in handing out honors. The Academy got it right just once, in terms of honoring the film, with Joe Pesci getting a much-deserved Best Supporting Oscar. But, Ray Liotta, the centerpiece of the movie and someone who gave a powerful performance, was snubbed by the geniuses in Hollywood. But, it doesn't matter because his acting in the movie, and the movie itself, is timeless in quality...... ''You know, we called ourselves, 'Goodfellas', like, 'you will like this guy, he is a good fella'. we were 'Goodfellas', 'Wiseguys'''..... So stated Henry Hill during the montage that ended with the murder of his friend, Tommy. Obviously, they weren't good fellas. They were murdering thieves whose life eventually caught up with them, be it prison or death. Til the day he died, Henry Hill lamented the fact he didn't have that life anymore. That is proof itself that he was no good fella......

Avoiding The Bandwagon

The bar was a sea of red jerseys. The patrons were all proclaiming their love and loyalty to the Hawks. And, my friend, Rob, and myself , were also. We were all there united in our desire to see the Hawks win a much needed playoff game. Alas, the end result turned out to be a frowner, as the Hawks went down in the now customary overtime period. As we were watching I was once again reminded of how strong the Chicago fan base is. Pride in our local teams is a internal city joy. The population wears the team colors and furiously roots for their team. Fan loyalty---Chicago-style...... Or, is it?....... Sports traditionally has fair-weather fans. It is not uncommon in sports, every team has them. They are the ones who jump on the bandwagon when things are going great guns. The team--- pick a sport--- is the hot potato in town and these followers come along on the merry-go-round ride of success. They bask in the glow of winning. Suddenly, they turn into experts, insisting that they know all there is to know about the franchise and acting as if they are personally involved in the fight for supremacy. The bandwagon people are just that. When the team that they profess to love suddenly takes a powder from winning and becomes a loser, they jump off the bandwagon with such suddenness that they had better make sure the bandwagon doesn't roll over them...... The Hawks are smack dab among these people now. Everyone in town is a Hawks fan, or so they like to believe. The jerseys outnumber all other teams, including the mighty Bears. By the looks of things, the Hawks and the NHL must be making a mint. On one hand, I applaud this because I have always been a Hawks fan. When I was a kid, I listened to them on the radio [they were never on TV] with my brother in the room we shared. I can fondly recall the sounds of the crowd in the old, still-missed Chicago Stadium, as the ''Here Come The Hawks, The Mighty Blackhawks'' theme came sailing over the radio. The mental pinwheels my mind played, imagining the game, is a cherished childhood memory. I would fall asleep with the game still playing, the names of Mikita, Hull, Magnuson, Esposito, mingling with my dreams.........On the other hand, I do not applaud this new popularity. These new ''experts''on all things Blackhawks annoys me. They know nothing coherent about the sport of hockey. They are the types of people who blame the refs if the Hawks are losing. They wanna pull Corey Crawford immediately if he is having a bad game. They wanna fire the coach if the team makes mistakes. You know these people if you are a real sports fan. The guys who wear the jerseys and are all unreasonable passion for something that is just a game. The women who like a certain player because he is cute. What makes me angry about these people---- besides embarrassing us true fans with their witless behavior---- is that they now make it impossible to go see a game in person. The price of tickets has gone through the roof, with a good seat now averaging in the thousands. Nose bleed seats, which are almost in the parking lot, are in the hundreds. For a family, a legit family of Hawks fans, to go see them at the UC, costs the parents an arm and a leg. Meanwhile, the bandwagon people are there, sitting front and center, undeserving of the seats, but getting them because they have connections. You know them, they are the ones texting during the action, telling their friends, ''Hey, I'm here and you're not!''....... This sort of thing happened in the 80's with the Cubs. It used to be that my friends and I could decide on a nice summer's day to go to Wrigley at the drop of a hat. We knew bleacher seats would be available, or upper deck in a pinch. It was easy and affordable to park [the nuns always took care of the car for ten bucks. Apparently, God got ten percent] and we were happily watching the Cubs, most likely, lose that day. However, with WGN pumping the games all over the world---- and, the Cubs actually having a few winning teams during this period--- suddenly, Wrigley Field became the place to go for the bandwagon people. And, with this crowd, came the natural capitalistic impulse of the owners to raise the tickets sky-high. Now, us kids or young adults, had to wait in line behind every Yuppie that was trying to impress the boss. Or, drunken fools who used Wrigley as an excuse to run rampant. Now, we used to drink there, too. But, any knowledgeable fan of any sport knows the rules of drinking at sporting events. You have a few in the ballpark, but, you save your serious juicing for the bars around the park. In a quick period of time, Wrigley Field was filled with the non-Cubs ''fans'' that rankled us loyal brethren. Soon, with the combination of ticket gouging, and, the annoying ''experts'' that commented on all things Cubs, made me very disenchanted about going to 1060 West Addison. For several years, I actively boycotted games there [the bad teams helped add to the boycott] but now I have lifted my protesting stance and go as often as I can. Besides, those ''experts'' on the Cubs have now moved to ''The Madhouse On Madison'' to do their spewing on all things Hawks. When they aren't texting, that is....... I do not mean be to be totally glum on the new fans. Many, especially, the kids, are most welcome to join us loyalists. And, I get that you become a fan of a team when they win. Who wants to be a fan of a losing team when you decide to embrace a sport? So, there are many good and knowledgeable new Hawks fans out there. Welcome to the club!!! Sit back and enjoy the Mighty Blackhawks!!!....... And, you will soon be a REAL fan when you look with contempt at the people who are posers......

The Big Silver

The big screen always has fascinated me. On it, a world of magic can be created that will sweep you away. When I was very small, an imp of a child, I actually thought that there were people behind the movie screen. A child's mind is filled with impossible visions and scenarios. So, it made sense to me, in my six year old mind, that the people kissing onscreen where smooching in the vast light just beyond me. Or, that the fight going on was a real-life rumble. Chairs were flying, bottles being broken over heads. They sure made a lot of noise back there!!!........ Naturally, very soon afterwords, I came to the full realization. There weren't people behind that forty foot screen living an alternative life. Rather, it was glorious images coming from a projector behind me, shooting through the dark, birthing a new world for me. The magic of movies. Alone in the dark...... Movies and me have been a team ever since I can remember. My Dad and I were movie buddies. As a kid, we would be there, side by side, in the darkened cinema. Sometimes, my Mom or brother or sister would join us, but, most of the times, it was Dad and me. Now, we loved all kinds of movies, be they comedy, action, or drama. It is a sign of how my parents raised me that Dad took me to serious films, with adult themes. He loved me, as any good parent does, and realized that my education in the world was more than I was getting at school. He respected and fostered my budding intelligence and growing interest in the world and human behavior. Of course, I never saw any strong sexual themed movies. But, once in a while, a woman's bare breast and ass cheek would make a welcome appearance on the screen. I'm sure Dad felt a little uncomfortable at these times. Not much, however. I think he saw in my eyes that I approved of the female nudity. A small smile of satisfaction would spread on his face. It wasn't until years later that I realized that he was proud of my early interest in the female anatomy. He was the block that I had been chipped off of.......... The earliest movie I can recall seeing was in 1971, when I was 6. It was ''Patton'', starring the legendary actor George C. Scott. We saw the flick at the equally legendary Des Plaines Theater. There was a charm about this theater. Oh, it was no great shakes as a nice place to see a movie. It had old seats that must have been around since the 20's. A floor that your feet stuck to. A sound system not much better than my own stereo system that I bought at Venture. And, if you put your popcorn or drink down on the ground and didn't watch it carefully, in a matter of minutes you would see your items moving slowly down the aisle, being carried quite admirably by the theater ''pets'' that haunted the palace. But, in a strange way, The Des Plaines Theater perfectly captured that particular mood of the moment. These were the days when movie theaters averaged just a couple in the area where you lived. There weren't thousands of screens like there are now. So, when a movie came to your town, it was a big deal. You bundled up the family and went out for a night on the town. Now, ''Patton'', as you may know, is the story of the flamboyant World War Two General George Patton. Patton, the man, was a big personality that demanded a big personality to play him. George C. Scott fit the bill like a glove. All gravelly-voiced and striding with authority, Scott embodied Patton in the performance of a lifetime. But, my six year old mind was not looking at the actor's portrayal, not yet. All I remember is that the movie was loud. Filled with battle sequences. And, I saw that everyone around me was enjoying the film, including Dad. In my mind, there was a thought that sprouted that day--- though, it would take several years for me to articulate it---- that here was a most curious concept. Hundreds of strangers had made the conscious effort to leave the comfort of their homes to willingly seek out another world in the dark. That big screen. The Big Silver Screen. A world created from our fantasies and yearnings. An escape hatch from the pressures of the modern world, our everyday life. We gratefully surrendered ourselves for pure escapism. All over the world, people lost themselves in the comfort of the dark, letting our minds meld with the magic. Even as a little boy, it dawned on me that I was experiencing a powerful feeling. The willing suspension to believe......... The most memorable movie going experience in my life came in the summer of 1975 when ''Jaws'' terrorized the population. My Dad, brother, and Uncle Tom went to the late, much missed Golf Mill Theater in Norridge. I was nine that summer. We got there early, which was a good thing. Because there was a long line around the block. I had never seen that before. Literally, several hundreds of people waiting in line to see Steven Spielberg's first masterpiece. It was a cultural phenomenon , that movie. ''Jaws'' shirts were already the rage. I was concerned that with so many people there that we might not get in. No worry, though. We sat in the balcony part of the theater. And, for the next two hours, the terror of the movie surrounded us. You know, being nine, I was already a man, you see. So, I couldn't let my family see that I was scared. That was for little kids, not a worldly person like myself. In the most intense parts of the movie, I looked away from the Big Silver at my ''Acapulco'' t-shirt. It must have been noticeable because Dad slipped his arm around me, in the protective way that all Dads do. The shark was tearing people up fifty feet away. But, Dad would keep me safe..... By the way, I loved the movie....... The years passed and my movie going experiences piled up. Some were with Dad [most memorably, we saw ''Close Encounters Of The Third Kind'', both of us enchanted by the film. Dad always loved space] and some with friends. We saw the typical teenage movies like, ''Animal House'' and ''The Warriors''. We friends would gaze longingly at the women on-screen, dreaming of what we would do with them if they ever decided to walk off the screen. They never did...... Sometimes, I could  scramble up a date to take on a Saturday night. I would always try to choose either something romantic or something to get their rocks off. I saw ''Top Gun'' many times, not because it was a good movie [it is a laughable movie] but because I knew whatever woman I was with would get excited about the beefcake flyboys in the movie. It worked a lot.......... But, in recent years I have not gone much to the theater. The Big Silver I still love. It is different now, however. Long gone is the pleasurable experience of sitting down and enjoying a quality movie with a respectful audience. The films today are mostly recycled garbage aimed at a ten year olds. And, the audience for these viewings are a horror. The plague of cell phone usage and the constant talking is a major hurdle that I can no longer battle. It astounds me that people seemed to find nothing wrong in having a conversation in a movie theater, as if they are at home. The mentality is as low as the movies they are seeing. And, this irks me on two levels. 1] Because people are being ignorant and rude [something I will never tolerate in any form by anyone] 2] Having falling in love with the movies and the experience of being drawn into the sweet joy of  big screen memories, it saddens me to think this marvelous joy is fading away before my eyes. The current average moviegoer has never had a good time at the movies. They believe that they have but they are sadly mistaken. They just went to a movie........ Whereas, I have had memories.......

Goodbye, Dave

You knew that this was gonna be different television by the ''cold opening''. That is the TV term for starting a show right then, with no fanfare or trumpets blasting. A sweet-faced, benign old man faced the camera uneasily and stated that what you are about to see would be different. The old-timer, named ''Larry 'Bud' Melman'' by the show, but, in reality was a forgotten actor named Calvert DeForest, looked like he was something different also. A man who somehow snuck into the TV studio late at night at 30 Rockefeller Center and jumped in front of a waiting camera. Which is kinda what happened, for, here was a new show that TV would never have before permitted on the air because it was so different and unusual. ''Larry 'Bud' Melman'' was proclaiming to the unsuspecting public at large, ''Ladies and Gentlemen, meet David Letterman!''....... Actually, the public knew of David Letterman. He was one of the hot up-and-coming comics to emerge in the 1970's. David, or Dave as we came to know him, cut his teeth in the drunk and seedy comedy clubs in L.A., where you often faced hostile and threatening audiences. But, Letterman had the, not so much as the best comic delivery, but, the quick-on- your- feet response that most comics prize. He could immediately comment on any given situation through the comedic mind, which is looking at the outside world through an absurd filter. Letterman was spotted by a talent agent in L.A. for ''The Tonight Show'' and in November, 1978, he made a very strong first appearance on the show. So strong was that one-time shot that soon he was being touted as the heir apparent to his idol, Johnny Carson. Carson himself was immediately smitten with Letterman and promoted his career. Soon, Dave was hot in show business, getting gig after gig. Eventually, in June 1980, NBC would give him a morning talk show where he could fully realize his inventive mind. His show was the anti-talk show. Instead of embracing show business, the Letterman morning show mocked it mercilessly. ''How dare show business people take themselves so seriously'', was the battle cry of the program. Dave kept it creative and wacky, doing things that had never been done on a talk show, like elevator races and stupid pet tricks. He interviewed people on the street from his studio [which he did take from Steve Allen in the 50's] but, Dave put his particular spin on the concept and created comic gold. The morning show was bright, inventive, and hip. Which, of course, made it impossible to succeed at that time of day. Housewives and older people would never buy into that type of humor so early in the day. The audience that would appreciate that crazy type of comedy would be the young, hip college crowd. And, they sure as hell were not watching daytime TV. They were still sleeping away the late morning. No, David Letterman needed something later, real late, after the grownups had gone to bed and the kids took over the TV. Kinda like the people who produced his show had taken over a TV studio after the adults went home...... NBC canceled his morning show after a couple of months and held Letterman to a ''holding deal'' with the network. That basically meant he was their property, he could not go to work for another network while he was signed with them. NBC was looking to put Letterman somewhere. Finally, the show after Carson, ''The Tomorrow Show'' with Tom Snyder [a great show on its own merit, too] was scrapped in favor of David Letterman doing his talk show. It didn't hurt Letterman that Johnny Carson would be producing the show through his production company. Carson still was a Letterman champion and knew Letterman would be a success somewhere. So, ''Late Night With David Letterman'' was born on February 1, 1982. It started with that ''cold opening'' of the strange looking old man named ''Melman''. Then, the show took off into an hour of television that was new and revolutionary. The highlight was when Bill Murray, looking like he had haven't slept for several days, did a hilarious rendition of the Olivia Newton-John song. , ''Let's Get Physical'', complete with jumping around the studio, aerobic-style. Murray set the tone that night that he was in on Letterman's game plan. Dave was gonna be different from the traditional talk show. That anti-talk show mentality had carried over from his morning show. And, true to prediction, the late night audience fell in love with him. He garnered a strong youth following [a key prize for advertisers] and critical acclaim. His ratings, while never huge, were enough for him to make a tidy profit for NBC while still reinventing the medium. Old favorites, like stupid pet tricks, films by his dog, Bob, and going out of the studio to catch the real weird still were the norm. And, Dave also did something that no talk show host ever did: he made his guests squirm if they showed the slightest tendency to take themselves too seriously. This made for interesting television, because all of show business is filled with the ego trippings of the stars. Dave called them on it--- be they Shirley Maclaine or Cher--- and many times real sparks would be flying. Over the bubble of the comedy filter came tension and compelling interplay among him and the guests....... Dave also encouraged experimentation among his staff. His writers shared his goofy comic sensibility. Chris Elliott, a writer with a bizarre mind and even more bizarre appearance, became his on-air foil. Elliott created the ''Angry Man'', the ''Conspiracy Man'',  the ''Fugitive Guy'', and a multitude of weird and wacky scenarios. Dave was the straight man, which is to say that he made the comments on TV that his audience was saying at home. This way of comment on the moment has been the essence of his career, the spine of David Letterman as a performer. The unspoken bond he has always had with his audience is ''Look how we make fun and ridicule these people and events that are taken so seriously!''............ Merrill Markoe was his partner in this comic crime. She met Dave at the ''Comedy Store'' in the late 70's---- a female comedian who palled around with the boys--- and soon became his girlfriend and creative sidekick. She would give him her best jokes to use, kinda like in high school when the girlfriend would do the boyfriend's homework. She shared Dave's dream of creating an alternative comedy talk show. She was as vital behind the scenes as Dave was in front of the camera. As the 80's went forward and ''Late Night With David Letterman'' reached greater glories of success, the relationship changed between them. She was more in the background and unhappy. She had to put up with Dave's moods and depressions---not an easy task. Not surprisingly, their personal relationship began to suffer also. Soon, Merrill Markoe and David Letterman would part, a breakup that had reshaped modern comedy........ David Letterman never forgot his comedian buddies from the salad days on the Sunset Strip. The best and brightest of them was Jay Leno. When Dave first came to California, he studied Leno and based his stand-up style on Jay. The two became close friends and supported each others careers. When Dave got ''Late Night'', his most prized and frequent guest was Jay Leno. Jay averaged about an appearance a month on the show. And, he always hit a home run. Jay was razor-sharp in his comedy, something that he, sadly, lost as his fame grew. The highlight of every Jay appearance would be ''Jay's Beef'', which entailed Jay talking about what is pissing him off in life. Dave would laugh, long and hard, at Jay, as would the audience. Very quickly, Jay Leno's star rose. He would become the best and hottest stand-up working. NBC would eventually sign him to host the Monday night edition of the ''Tonight Show'', when Carson would be off......... The 80's turned into the 90's. David Letterman routinely did the best show on TV. Despite his growing fame, Dave never lost his outsider status that so endeared him to his audience. He was the kid in the back of the classroom who made fun of the brighter and more better-looking kids in school. His style of comedy was enormously influential. Every night after a show was put to rest, there were upcoming generations of dreamers going to bed wanting to do what Dave was doing. Conan O'Brien, Jon Stewart, Jimmy Kimmel, Jimmy Fallon, plus untold stand-up comics caught the glow of Dave's genius. The torch of the Next Generation in comedy had been lit by David Letterman. Soon, these aspiring comics would pick up that torch........ By 1991, Johnny Carson was tired. He had scaled the highest mountaintop in show business, reigning supreme for over three decades as the King Of Late Night. Now, well into his 60's, he wanted to step down, a King giving over his kingdom to a successor to the throne. The fact that Johnny had always preferred David Letterman to take over the ''Tonight Show'' was a given fact. Carson never stopped being a fan Of Letterman and his comedy. Also, because Carson produced ''Late Night'', it was naturally assumed in the television industry that Letterman would get the show. But, NBC had other plans. They liked Jay Leno, who, by now, had become the permanent substitute host. Jay was popular with the audience but his comedy had mellowed. And, not for the better. His comic edge was gone. He was ''safe'', non-threatening or challenging. Unlike Letterman, Leno loved NBC and the whole show-business lifestyle. Sadly, this once strong comedian became the ass-kisser that he had always joked about. This was what NBC wanted in a host to replace Carson, not the rabble-rousing, thumb his nose at authority Letterman.To the surprise of everyone, including Carson and Letterman, Jay Leno was given the gig at the ''Tonight Show''. When Letterman heard that his old friend had gone behind his back and stole the show from him [and Leno did, with him and his opportunist manager and Svengali, Helen Kushnik, slowing acing Carson out] Dave was angry and sad. His ultimate dream was to take over the show from his idol, Carson. Now, the dream was dead and it looked like Dave would be forever the also-ran. But, David Letterman held some aces of his own. He was still the brightest star in comedy and the most influential. His services were in high demand. If NBC did not want him, then, everyone else did. In the winter of 1991/92, the bidding war for David Letterman escalated into a media frenzy. Would Dave walk out on NBC when his contract ran out? Would his many suitors in the television industry grab him, including CBS and ABC? Would the FOX network pony up big money to spearhead their struggling network? Big money indeed was offered, tens of millions for Dave, and hundreds of millions for any winner that snagged him. In addition to the money, what David Letterman truly wanted was the earlier time slot [11:30pm Eastern time, 10:30 pm, Central] to try to appeal to a bigger audience. Dave was confident that he could bring his comic sensibility to the earlier time slot. NBC did not believe so, which is why they went with Leno. Eventually, David Letterman signed with CBS. He would go head-to-head with the ''Tonight Show'' and his, now rival, Jay Leno. The start date would be August, 1993. The remainder of his time at NBC and ''Late Night'' would be him joking about his leaving the network. But, it would also entail him closing the chapter on his most original work. For though he would encounter tremendous success at CBS, he never again captured the spirited innovation of his NBC years. These years ''made'' David Letterman. The spark of his genius was established, and in terms of creativity, he never reached those heights again...... In August of 1993, the ''Late Show With David Letterman'' premiered to much hoopla and media attention. Not only was it a new show but the press had created a story of intense rivalry between Jay Leno and David Letterman. Here were two old friends, who had risen together to the stratosphere of American comedy in tandem, battling it out for the viewers. The fact that Leno, the usurper, had aced out the legend, Carson, for his grab for the brass ring, added fuel to the fire. Jay Leno was cast as the villain in the story [not an unfair depiction]. And, at first, Letterman trounced the ''Tonight Show'' in the ratings. The reason was simple: Dave was doing a better, more interesting program. The change was quite noticeable in his demeanor. He looked happier, more in command of his show, as if , he finally found his Garden Of Eden. His guests were more famous but on most nights, Dave was the bigger star. He was the hottest property in show business. And, he changed his act. Gone were the elevator races and man-on-the-street observations. Now, he sat at his desk and talked. A hidden gem in the Letterman arson of talent is his ability to just talk to the camera, like sitting next to someone on your couch in your living room. He became easy going David Letterman. He could still be a smart-ass. But, he mellowed his outsider status now that he was an insider. Dustin Hoffman once described Dave as the modern day Mark Twain, a humorist who also touched the public psyche. Dave sure was and he excelled in his new form. In due time, the excitement of his show waned somewhat and he fell behind Leno in the ratings. He still had the prized, younger demographic, which brought both him and CBS vast buckets of money. He was Number 2 but he was still the show everyone talked about the day after.......... David Letterman's finest moment on TV came on September 17, 2001. It was the first Monday following the 9/11 attacks. The world was still brittle in its emotions. America had been shaken by the death and horror of the previous Tuesday. The country was in a state of shock and seemed to be in need of a jolt back to reality. It is not hyperbole to say that Dave brought us back, in terms of allowing ourselves to enjoy life again and laugh. All of show business looked to him to give the official nod of approval. But, Dave, always wonderfully unpredictable, threw a curve. Instead of finding some humor in what had happened---- which, was impossible---- Dave spoke from his heart about what had happened and the affects on him. And, through his experiences, he channeled the national grief. Dave spoke for us all. It was poignant and quite eloquent. There were throwaway asides that got a few titters, but, Dave showed class and respect. It was a hallmark moment for the show, and, especially, for the man....... Throughout the years of ''Late Night'', Dave has held the crown of the elder statesmen of comedy. Like his idol Johnny Carson, David Letterman has made careers on his show and fostered talent. He has done this with the customary distance of a king. The king's approval is sought out and yearned for. To not get the king on your side can be damaging to a career. But, David Letterman has always championed the underdog and showcased the poor soul. He became the performers best friend when they appeared on his show. Many comics, from  Ray Romano to the guy you are planning to see this weekend at Zanies, is beholden to Dave and his reach......... David Letterman has shown his private life, in spurts, on his show. He had triple-bypass surgery in 2000, a son in 2003, and a nasty scandal involving sexual exploits with his interns. The last item was the most tricky to maneuver. But, Dave stood tall when he sat in his chair and told the audience of his failings as a man and husband. It certainly wasn't a high point in his life. He was wrong and admitted his wrongdoing. However, he took it like a man should: by facing the music....... And, now, after over thirty years holding the national pulse, David Letterman is stepping down. He is 68 years old now and has made his mark. I'm sure he feels he has done all that he can do. Now, he rides off into the sunset with, I hope, a profound sense of what he has accomplished and the pioneering of comedy he has governed over. His followers, from Jon Stewart to the deplorable Jimmy Fallon [even the best performers inspire the worst] have been so influenced by him that they are carbon copies of the original Dave form. But, the imitators can never top the king. No Elvis impersonator has ever come close to the real Elvis. David Letterman will say goodbye tall in the saddle, a renaissance man of comedy and satire and commentary....... Thank you, Dave.......