The last few weeks have been yet another emotional roller coaster, thanks to more apartment drama (I'm definitely pursuing avenues to relocate at this point. I'll discuss it more later, as I'm really in no mood to right now), preparing myself for life without Bob Barker (on October 12, they are going to rerun his final episode. Then on the 15th... Drew Carey fan or not, that is going to hurt like hell.), and finding my thoughts more and more in the past all the time (which I'll be touching on in this post).

But, I'll open this with the entertainment news from today: The Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame has announced the nine finalists for the Class of 2008 ballot. At some point in the near future, a panel of 500 people will vote on these nine names, with the top five vote-getters being inducted into the Hall.

The nine finalists are:

The Beastie Boys
John Mellencamp
Chic
Donna Summer
The Dave Clark Five
Afrika Bombaataa
Leonard Cohen
The Ventures

Wait, that's only eight... Who could that ninth be?

Metallica? Nope. Snubbed (ha-hah!).

Genesis? Sadly, no.

Alice Cooper? Passed up yet again (karma for my sister, perhaps?).

No... The headline finalist is none other than the Queen Of Pop herself. Her Madgesty. Our lord and savior (she did die on the cross for our sins, no?). The epitome of MILF... Madonna.

As I had discussed in January, Madonna should be a no-brainer to go in first year of eligibility. 250,000,000 records, 12 #1 hits, a record-tying 36 Top Ten hits, and by far THE biggest female artist of the last quarter century.

And, now, she is one step closer to going in...

FutureRockHall.com, which analyzes and discusses the chances of various acts going into the Hall (Edit: like, say, actually giving Debbie Gibson a 4% chance of induction - the readers' poll was 36% yes for her induction), has predicted that she will be one of the five artists from the ballot to be voted in. What's the relevence of that? They were 5-for-5 last year, correctly predicting the entire Class of 2007.

Then again, we're talking about Madonna, who under any circumstances should be a no-brainer. But with some of the so-so names on this ballot, I'd have to say her chances have went from no-brainer to "Just announce that she's in already and get it over with!". I mean, don't get me wrong... I love Donna Summer, but do I look at her and think "Hall Of Famer" (see: Blondie, The Pretenders, The Clash)? Honestly, no...

So, if I had a ballot, I would be marking off the following five names myself:

The Beastie Boys
John Mellencamp
Leonard Cohen
The Ventures

And, of course, Our Royal Highness herself.

The results will be announced in January - at which time it'll either be time to party like it's 1982, or join The Sex Pistols in calling the Hall a "piss-stain".

We'll know in a few months. But, as I said in January, this should be the biggest no-brain since 1981, when the Baseball Writers Association Of America received ballots with "Aaron, Hank" on them.

I do have to say, though, that the Hall dropped the ball in not putting Sonic Youth on the final ballot. Why, you ask?

Because back in 1988, Sonic Youth released an album titled The Whitey Album. However, they did not release this album as Sonic Youth. The band has always been fascinated with pop culture, and during The Whitey Album era, they briefly changed their name to... Ciccone Youth.

What fun it would've been to induct The Divine Ms. Ciccone, and Ciccone Youth, on the same night (hell, they could've even performed their covers "Into The Groove-y" and "Burnin' Up"!). In fact, why not even make it a true "Holiday" and find an excuse to induct Emmy & The Emmys and The Breakfast Club while they're at it?

But, of course, it's not like there isn't a link between Madonna and one of the other finalists for this ballot. When Madonna hit the road for the first time, for The Virgin Tour in 1985, her opening act was none other than a crude, profane rock/rap band from Brooklyn... Yep, that would be The Beastie Boys themselves.

And, now, onto my trip down memory lane. Well, two trips actually...

The first one came last week, when I went down to look at an apartment that was a couple blocks away from where I lived from 1981-1986. I loved the place (the apartment, that is), but there were two issues: The timing, and the lack of a refrigerator.

I told the manager - a very nice young man - that I'd take an application, and if I felt things could be worked out, I'd definitely fill it out and bring it back. Unfortunately, though, it does appear the timing just isn't right...

However, after talking with him, I decided to take a little walk around my old haunts, starting with my old neighbor.

Back when I grew up there, it was a nice little neighborhood, with all the houses being from roughly 1952-1953. Some of the houses haven't changed a bit - same paint colors, trim, even the same things adorning their yards...

Some, though, have changed quite a bit. An old friend's old grandparents' house, with all the trees and plants removed from the yard (and no longer obstructing the view of the house). The old Moore residence, now a powder blue instead of red. The old Gravitt house, now green instead of yellow. Even the old vacant field that used to sit behind San Felipe Ave (and that used to catch fire every summer), now with a large apartment complex sitting on it.

But then we hit the corner of San Felipe and San Marcos, what was home for me from July 30, 1981 until April 20, 1986. Next door, the old Larkin place (dear old Mr. Larkin passed on some time ago, sadly) drastically repainted (and the amusing old "Tresspassers will be eaten!" sign gone from his fence). And, then, my old home... The bushes and trees that turned the front yard into a jungle are now gone. The old metal garage door replaced with a wooden one. The old pink and white paint job now replaced with a light grey with brown trim.

I look at it, thinking "It's the same... And, yet, it isn't."

And, of course, the flood of memories. It was there that I lived when I became addicted to Ms. Pac-Man. It was there where I first heard "Borderline". It was where I shared quite a few family meals and holidays with long departed loved ones. It was there where many a days were spent watching such upscale television as Wonder Woman, The Greatest American Hero, Voltron, She-Ra, and of course my mile-long list of game shows (hell, just before I moved there, KHJ - now KCAL - started running The $1,000,000 Chance Of A Lifetime, and aired reruns of the Alex Trebek hosted trainwreck Pitfall). It was there that I got my first computer - an almighy Commodore 64, complete with a disk drive, the monitor (no TV hookup for that system), and a printer.

And, of course, old friends... Chris, Logan, Jay, Dustin, Amanda, Chrissy, Nicole. All of whom I've lost touch with over the years (I ran into Chris in a Wherehouse Entertainment back in 1992. Last time I've seen any of them). I've tried to track some of them down over the years, with little luck. I've either come up empty on finding them, or in one case (Logan) they either forgot who I was, or wanted to forget who I was. Which, I don't know.

Of course, there were plenty of sad memories that came back, too. My mother and her battle with alcoholism. The divorce. The real-life family feud (with my mother's side of the family disliking my father's, and vice versa). It was while living there that my mother broke the news on the deaths of Jack Barry and Johnny Olson. It was there that my mother broke the news that Amanda Carter (not the same one that lived down the street) was killed in a car accident at 2:00 am one morning...

Finally, after completing my trip around the block, it's off to the shopping centers just down Madison - not only for a bit of reminiscing (cue up the Little River Band?), but I also needed to hit Radio Shark - err, Shack - for a cable.

I first hit the shopping center on the corner of Arlington and Madison - where Radio Shark was, at least back in 1986. I find out the hard way it isn't there anymore (instead, it was relocated to Hardman Center, just down the street), starting with The Friendly Greek (which used to be P&J Super Burger. Just me showing my age again...). The old NEC Fashions, which is now a Big Lots. The old Security Pacific Bank, which is now a costume store. The old Mark C. Bloome (automotive repair shop - memories of Chick Hearn doing commercials for them in the 80's) is now under a different name. But, some things fortunately don't change: the Straw Hat Pizza is still there (fond memories of playing the Crystal Castles game in there as a kid), and the Ross clothing store is still Ross.

But, as said, where Radio Shark was is now a video rental shop. So, I'm now off to Hardman Square to get my Y cable - where I not only purchase it, but tease the employee by telling her "You moved!". She was puzzled, so I told her where they used to be. She chuckled and told me "I haven't worked here THAT long!".

Heading back, I talked myself into picking up a pizza. Why not? All their pizzas were 1/2 off, and I hadn't been in a Straw Hat for 23 years. So, I order a medium Hawaiian pizza and breadsticks (sadly, they were out of breadsticks), and make my way back to the bus stop to head home, regretting my return home physically far less than the fact that I can't deny reality - it really is 2007 now, not 1984.

I would find myself back in that neck of the woods today, since I finally decided to head down to the Housing Authority and put myself on the Section 8 waiting list (could be a few months, could be a few years). The HA is right across the street from my old elementary school, and it goes without saying that I found my mind taking a jog back through time yet again.

I walked around the entire outside of the school - from Arlington, to California, to Jefferson.

The first thing that hit me is the overly neutral paint job on the school now. When I attended, the walls were light tan, the trim was brown, and the doors were red. Now? Beige and light grey uber alles. Then add in all the portable class rooms stuffed into available space, and it's kind of like my old house - it's the same, yet it isn't...

I walk around, thinking about my old teachers. Mrs. Martin, Mrs. Steadry, Mr. Thomas (twice - he took over for Steadry when I was in the second grade, then I got him again in the fourth grade), Mr. Roth, Mr. Currie, Mrs. Watje... One of which has since passed on (Mr. Currie, to a heart attack in the early 90's). Two of which had to be 60 or so when I was in their class (Steadry in 1982, Watje in 1986), and I'm not sure if either is still around. I had last seen Patricia Watje in 1991, after dropping in on my grandparents after a long bike ride (Patricia was a few blocks away), and I figured I'd drop in on her, too... I know Mr. Roth was teaching there as of 1991 or so, but I don't think he's there any longer. Mrs. Martin was there as recent as 1999, but I'm not sure if that is still the case.

But, we come to Eric Thomas. We all have a favorite teacher. And, while I had been blessed with some great teachers, Mr. T was something special. He not only taught me it was okay to be a free-thinker, and that just because my methods are different it doesn't mean they are wrong, but he is easily the first teacher I ever had that I could consider to be a friend.

He took over for Mrs. Steadry around December of 1982, and I truly enjoyed the rest of my second grade year. After that year completed, he was switched to fourth grade, and I spent my entire third grade year counting the days, knowing there was no way in hell fate could stick me in any other class but Mr. T's...

Well, fate delivered. In late August, my mother got a letter from the school, notifying me that I had sure enough been assigned to Eric Thomas for the fourth grade. And what kind of difference did it make? Not only did I put up the best grades I ever had (only failing to score an A in P.E.), but it would be the only year of my life I'd ever have perfect attendence.

I was in touch on and off again with Eric over the years, until he moved out of state in 1992. I've spent 15 years desperately knowing how to get in touch with him again. Mr. T (yes, you, the one who used to live on St. Paul in Riverside), if you're reading this, CONTACT ME!!

Continuing my walk, I find myself with a flood of good memories (the early years), and some bad ones (the nightmare known as the fifth grade). I think of some of my old friends, one of which stuck around in my life until we lost touch in 1997 - between him briefly moving to England, and my life being in total turmoil (Michael Acton, formerly of Hemet and San Diego, if you read this, CONTACT ME!!)

I think about some of those assignments that have stuck with me, even after all these years. There was Mr. Roth in the third grade, who had us all make paper airplanes, which he would hang on each level depending how we were doing in our multiplication tables - and the thrill of having mine on the final one first, after taking his five minute test of everyone from 2 to 12 and acing it in less than 2 1/2 minutes. There was the fascination I developed for the Wright Brothers, thanks to him touching on them for the 80th anniversary. There was me becoming an emotional wreck near the end of Charlotte's Web (I STILL can't watch the end of the 1973 animated film without losing it!). There were the lessons about the solar system (another fascination I still have to this day). And, of course, the utterly useless work on writing in cursive (as my handwriting over the years has gone from textbook to something utterly odd and eccentric).

Of course, there is one that I recall oh-so-vividly. Early in the fourth grade, Mr. T wanted us to write a report on someone we looked up to...

I, of course, did my piece of a certain dark-haired game show host. A rather subpar piece, in my opinion, as this was back when writing was not one of my favorite things to do, and I'd yet to realize if I'm ever going to be good at anything, it's writing.

But, we get to the report written by Marcy Yant (one of the countless students I also was in the third grade with), who wrote a piece about her hero (at least in fall of 1984). A rather lengthy report on some young female singer I'd never heard of until that day. Some woman who wore crazy things, and outrageous makeup, and wore her hair in weird styles, and has some really odd name. Like most 80's singers, I am sure she fizzled rather quickly...

I mean, whatever happened to that Madonna, anyway?

Yep... Marcy's report was the first time I'd ever heard the name Madonna. And 23 years later, I managed to reinvent myself as her! Needless to say, that was one thing I learned in school (Her Madgesty) that I am glad I took with me later in life!

After my little romp around my old school - and memory lane - I decided to grab some lunch. I was debating between Long John Silver's and The Friendly Greek before settling on P&J - err... The Friendly Greek.

Despite the name change, it hasn't changed that much on the inside since 1992 (the last time I ate there - where as well as dinner I got my bike stolen). The old coin-operated TV's that sat on the tables are gone. The Galaga and Mario Bros. arcade games were placed with extra tables. But, all in all, not that much different from the place I occasionally ate at in the mid 1980's.

Once again, on my way back to the bus stop, I found myself longing not so much to be somewhere else, but somewhen else. A time when my family was relatively intact. A time when the biggest worry I had were those Friday tests. A time when old friends were still around. A time when Madonna was young and cute (then again, like being 49 and the epitome of MILF is a bad thing?). A time when Bob Barker not only was still on TV, but had dark hair...

Growing up, I used to think that it was silly of old people to reminisce so much for days gone by. I used to think that was the epitome of being old. Yeah, look at me...

I'm officially old at 32.

But, what can I say? Cher had it right. If only I could turn back time...

Time truly doesn't go by so slowly.

I guess if my two jaunts through memory lane felt like Scotty using the Enterprise-D's holodeck to recreate the bridge of the original USS Enterprise, then there is only one proper way to close out this post, while thinking about old friends, relatives and memories...

*holding up a bottle of Aldebaran whisky* Here's to ye, lads.

Labels: Barker Worship, Gone But Not Forgotten, Madge Worship, Mi Vida Loca, The Drew Is Right

This really has been a painful year to be a game show fan.

The eight month Bob Barker Farewell Tour alone would be enough to suck the life out of a game show fanatic like me. Fortunately, though, in his case, it just meant saying goodbye to Bob Barker, Television Host, as Bob is still alive and kicking, and hopefully well on his way to a long, enjoyable, well-deserved retirement.

But, we've said goodbye forever to some of our old friends this year. We lost Kitty Carlisle in April. We lost Merv Griffin a couple months ago. And, around my birthday, we lost the one and only Charles Nelson Reilly.

While I never caught Charles on stage, I of course got to spend many years enjoying his antics on Match Game - not only in the last few years while the show was still in production, but in its countless reruns on GSN. Charles of course was half of the dynamic duo - who needed Batman and Robin when you had Charles and Brett Somers?

When I found out on my birthday that Charles had passed away a couple days earlier, I was hit with three thoughts...

Sadness, over his passing.

Shock, that he'd been ill for over a year (I had no idea he was sick until we lost him)

But the third was the dreaded feeling that as attached at the hip as Charles and Brett had become in the 70's, that I couldn't shake the feeling we would soon lose Brett Somers as well.

Sadly, we did on Saturday, due to complications of colon and stomach cancer. And, much like with Charles, I had no idea she was ill either until I found out about her passing on Monday.

One of the biggest things to help make Match Game the cultural phenomenon it was in the 1970's - maybe even the biggest - was the antics of the celebrity panelists. While many people know the show for it's risque questions, that clearly wasn't the key to the show's success, as they have tried three times to revive the show - with even more risque questions - and all three times the show tanked within a year.

No, I've said for years that what made the show work was the chemistry, and the antics - which took a show with a relatively weak format and turned it into a celebrity cocktail party where contestants can win money.

And nobody did more to fuel the antics (or drink more cocktails, probably) than the two mainstains of the show - Charles Nelson Reilly and Brett Somers.

Even as a kid, Brett quickly became my favorite panelist. She was witty, she was caustic, she was sarcastic. If I didn't know better, she could've been my long lost grandmother...

Brett certainly wasn't the world's greatest celebrity panelist when it came to giving answers - in fact, back in 1974, she was the definitive answer to the following Match Game question: "The celebrity on the Match Game who gives the worst answers is _____." (Brett was the only one of the six celebrities who did not write down "Brett" as the answers). More often than not, she seemed to be quite good at giving odd-ball answers (many of them using multiple cards) - which got even worse when she was drunk, which she usually was in the early years (though, I have to admit, many of Brett's rotten answers were laugh-out-loud funny). But her appeal was her bantor - giving Charles the business, giving female celebrities the business, even giving Gene Rayburn the business.

Heck, when "Auntie Brett" and "Chuck" went at it (playing, of course, as she and Charles were indeed good friends), you didn't care what Brett wrote down. You didn't even care that there were two contestants sitting there. You were likely too busy laughing your ass off at their cocktail-fueled insanity.

Match Game may have been a game show. It may have even been "Gene's show", as he so often said when he tried to get things back under control. But the show would've never been the same without those two "dingbats" sitting up on the top row. Sonny and Cher? Who needed them? They should've given Charles and Brett their own variey show!

What's amazing about Brett's unforgettable run on Match Game is that it was a fluke that it even happened to begin with. The producers desperately wanted Jack Klugman to be on the panel for their debut week back in 1973. Jack was hesitant at first, but finally told them "Couldn't you give my wife a job? She'd be great at it.", and agreed to appear if they would invite his wife, Brett, to appear. They did, and the rest is history.

(What's also rather interesting is that Jack and Brett split in 1974, yet never divorced. They spent 33 years legally seperated until her recent passing.)

Sadly, the true Match Game was cancelled in 1982, and the Charles and Brett show ended with it, for the most part. While they would be teamed up again for one week on Match Game '90, and again on Hollywood Squares' first Classic Game Show Week in ***2, no longer were we blessed with watching these two and their zany antics five days a week (at least, not until GSN started carrying the reruns years later).

Just as there will never be another Bob Barker, there'll never be another Match Game. The recent attempts to revive the show have tried to play it too straight. No out-of-control celebrity antics. No double-entendre questions. No Charles and Brett.

I had been saying for years that they need to give up thinking the show can ever be brought back (and, yes, to this day, Fremantle is STILL giving thought to reviving the show), because you can't have Match Game without Gene Rayburn...

Well, you sure as hell can't have Match Game without Charles Nelson Reilly and Brett Somers, either. Which is why I'm urging Fremantle to put the show to rest once and for all. Keep the reruns alive on GSN, where we can still continue to enjoy Gene, and Brett, and Charles, and those risque questions and the rest of those celebrity dingbats.

But, don't continue to spit in the face of history by trying to "revive" something that can never truly be revived.

I am sure right now, that Gene, Johnny Olson, Charles, Brett, Nipsey Russell, Debralee Scott, Bert Convy and other departed celebrities from Match Game are somewhere, hosting their own version of the show, and partying it up like it's once again 1975.

Thanks for all the ______s, Charles and Brett. You truly will be missed.

Labels: Gone But Not Forgotten

...Then I finally have my bible.

Today, after paying my rent, I hopped on the bus and picked up Stan Blits' book, Come On Down: Behind The Scenes At The Price Is Right. I've been eagerly anticipating the book since I first heard about it several months ago. Because, not only would it be great to have a definitive book (including color photos and trivia) about the greatest show ever, but I am dying to see if Stan is as funny in print as he is in person.

You can bet now that the laundry is done, the shopping is done, the bills are paid and the apartment is back to being nice and cool (the air conditioner was mounted flat, and was leaking water into the apartment, and not running as well as it should've. I fixed that this morning.), I'll plop down tonight after eating dinner and read the book.

And, yes, it's coming with me to LA next month.

I must say I'm surprised over one thing already, though.. The fact that the liner notes mention that Stan is a 27 year veteran of TPIR. Say what? Imaging that Stan started working for the show fresh out of high school, that'd make him 45, and he does not look 45.

Well, turns out he definitely doesn't look 51, either - which I found out today is his age.

Stan, I don't know if you and Madonna are on the same stuff, or just from the same planet, but, seriously... I'd like to look as much under my age as the two of you do when I near 50!

I must also say it's quite fitting that the book came out today, considering that today is the 35th anniversary of a huge day in the history of The Price Is Right... Namely, that on September 4, 1972, Johnny Olson told four people to "come on down", and Bob Barker jogged out of that big door for the very first time.

On a day where Mark Spitz won his seventh gold medal, and eighteen paintings were stolen from the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, CBS debuted The NEW Price Is Right - which Bob assured fans of "the old Price Is Right" that it was still their favorite game involving the pricing of merchandise, but with "exciting new games you'll enjoy right there from home".

Little did anyone know that the show would still be alive and kicking 35 years - and over 6,700 episodes - later. Little did anyone know that the first item up for bids (a fur coat) would wind up being banned from the show ten years later. Little did anyone know that all three games played on the first show (Any Number, Bonus Game and Double Prices) would still be in use today. And, little did anyone know that the first car offered on the show (A $2,746 Chevy Vega Kammback) would cost less than many of the One-Bid items we see today (like that $3,495 Beachcomber hot tub that Maddy knows the price of so well).

What a ride it has been. Happy Anniversary, Price! Thank you 35 priceless years... And may we look forward to 35 more!

Labels: Barker Worship, The Drew Is Right