Tag Archives: Movies

Six Degrees of Debbie Reynolds

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Actress and singer Debbie Reynolds died yesterday at 84, sadly a mere day after her daughter Carrie Fisher passed away at the all-too-young age of 60 after a life of big ups and huge downs. Who says you can’t die from a broken heart.

I never had the honor to meet Ms. Reynolds, nor her daughter, but I have a connection. So, I am modifying the “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” game in honor of the woman I fell in love with thanks to her role in “Tammy and the Bachelor.” (I saw the movie, released in 1957, as a TV rerun sometime in the early ‘60s.)

During the Korean War (Conflict), Peter Antos, his brother Steven Antos, their best buddy Kenny Davis – all from Pontiac, Michigan — and Lou Tulianello, from the Bronx, enlisted in the Army (Gunnery Division, I think) and formed The Four Joes after initially calling themselves The Four G.I. Joes. They travelled throughout now-South Korea entertaining their fellow soldiers, joining forces with singer and heartthrob Eddie Fisher. Don’t get me wrong, The Four Joes were heartthrobs in their own right, just not nearly as famous as Fisher.

On May 23rd, 1955, at the 8th Army Headquarters in Seoul, Korea, according to “legend,” also known as the story told by Peter and Steve (more on that later), Debbie Reynolds joined The Four Joes, performing for our troops and it was that night that Peter and Steve introduced Reynolds to Eddie Fisher. The two, Debbie and Eddie that is, were soon married and lived happily ever after. NOT! Fisher’s eyes would soon be wandering and in 1958 he left Reynolds for Elizabeth Taylor, but not before he fathered Reynolds’ daughter, Carrie Fisher.

(The photos in this blog are (One, above) a shot of Debbie with The Four Joes in Korea; (Below) the group of entertainers, including The Four Joes, Eddie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds (head scarf next to accordian) and others, that night in May 1955; and (Below) The Four Joes and Eddie Fisher.)

After the war, The Four Joes (sometimes just The Three Joes) travelled around the country, doing shows in Las Vegas with Pearl Bailey and at the Copacabana in New York City, opening for Nat King Cole. Have I dropped enough names yet?

After a few years, the Pontiac, Michigan boys had to give up show biz and earn a real living. Peter settled down in his home town and married Helen Govenis in March, 1959, and nineteen months later, Helen gave birth to her first child, Betsy Lynn. Twenty-five years later, Betsy met a guy also in the undercard section of show business, a moonlighting stand-up comedian who had become a regular middle act at Mark Ridley’s Comedy Castle in Royal Oak, Michigan and a voice impersonator on the incredibly popular Dick Purtan Show on Q95.5 in Motown. A year later, Betsy would marry the comic-wannabe in November, 1986, one year and 15 day after their first date. Her groom — drumroll please — was and is me, 30 years later.

As for the “legend” of “The Debbie Reynolds Incident,” we – Betsy, me, her brother and sister and her cousins – assumed that Peter and Steve Antos were, how do I put this, oh yeah, completely full of shit. Peter and Steve also frequently talked that they ran into a fellow “Detroiter” in New York, an actor down on his luck, and loaned him twenty bucks. That actor was Robert Wagner. Yes, THAT Robert Wagner: the “Number Two” Robert Wagner and the Robert Wagner who knows all-too-well that the only kind of wood that doesn’t float is Natalie Wood. Ahem.

Fast forward to 2002 and the Los Angeles premiere of Austin Powers’ third installment, “Goldmember.” Although I had been canned by Ford the previous year, along with my friend and boss, CEO Jacques Nasser, the head of Jaguar PR (then a part of Ford Motor Company) and a great friend, Simon Sproule, called me up and asked if Betsy and I would accept a fully-paid trip to LA to be at the premiere. Why me? Well, two years before, while still head of Ford PR, and Jag PR reporting up to me, I got a call from Jay Roach, the director of the Austin Powers films (“Meet the Parents” later), asking if I could get them a vintage Jag to use in the movie as the Shaguar. I called up Simon, who along with me loved the idea, and he sent the request to the top of the chain, Mike Dale.

Dale, a bit of a stuck-up p—ck, “shat” on the idea right out of the box, saying it would be demeaning to the vaunted British brand. Luckily, Dale retired a few months later and the Shaguar was a go! If you remember the movie, it opens with Austin, played by Tom Cruise, parachuting into the said Shaguar, shouting “Yeah, baby, yeah!”

Back to our story. After the movie showing, we gathered outside the theater at Universal Studios with all the stars of the picture and more. Betsy and I shook hands and took pictures with the Olsen Twins, Frau Farbissina (the lovely Mindy Sterling) and Mini Me (Verne Troyer, a real sweetheart). We even grabbed a, er, “shot” of Monica Lewinsky.

And then it happened: we spotted Number Two, Robert Wagner, and his wife Jill St. John, enjoying a glass of wine. Bets and I made a bee-line for the famous couple. I introduced us and then told him that I had to ask him a question. He said “sure.” I let him have it: “My father-in-law was in a singing group from Pontiac, Michigan in the late ‘50s, and said that they loaned you twenty bucks in New York City.”

Wagner didn’t hesitate. “Oh,” he said, “You mean The Four Joes?”

I looked at Betsy; her jaw had dropped. It wasn’t “legend,” it was the gospel. We chit-chatted with the two for a few more minutes and got some great photos with Wagner’s arm around Betsy’s shoulder and Jill St. John giving her the “stink eye.”

R.I.P. Debbie Reynolds, Carrie Fisher and Eddie Fisher: Say hi to Peter and Steve Antos. May the ULTIMATE FORCE be with you.

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The Electoral College Whine Continues…Tennis, Anyone?

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It has been 49 days since the Presidential Election made Donald Trump our 45th President-elect. Yet, this morning, December 27, on talk radio and television news programs, I listened to Democratic pundits and strategists continuing to whine that Hillary Clinton won the popular vote by almost three million votes and that the Electoral College should be abolished. This whine turned to vinegar weeks ago, yet it continues.

So, let us once again try to explain how our Presidential Election works… and I will type very, very slowly.

Tennis, anyone?

Let’s say a tennis player – let’s call him Donnie – is up against a supposedly much more talented tennis player who we will call, Hill. Hill has travelled the globe playing tennis, has one of the highest-paid tennis coaches at her side, the best rackets money can buy – given to her by an Arab Sheik — and a host of trainers that are there to pick her up whenever she falls on the court chasing the little yellow ball. Hill is renowned in the tennis world for the “secret serve” she honed on the tennis court on her private residence in New York. Donnie has nice racket (in fact, it is gold-plated), but while a rabid fan of tennis, he has never played the game. He doesn’t have a trainer, but he has a really snazzy hat that says, “Make Tennis Great Again!”

The U.S. tennis media predicts a blow-out win for Hill and says Donnie does not have the skills and temperament to challenge Hill. Time Magazine, in a cover story, claims Donnie is in “Full Meltdown” prior to the match. Hill, showcasing her humility, calls Donnie “unfit” to take the court days before the match. Donnie, responding to those attacks, calls Hill a “nasty tennis player” and the U.S. tennis media, “dishonest.”

The stadium is packed with thousands of fans with “Make Tennis Great Again!” hats and a handful of Hill fans. Most of Hill’s fans thought the match would cause micro-aggressions and went on the Web to find “safe spaces” outside the stadium.

The challenger, Donnie, enters stadium and the crowd goes bonkers. They know he is David going into the lion’s den, but they just can’t get enough of Donnie. Moments later, Hill enters to rousing applause by four of her friends who turn out to be paid-trainers, her husband and his “niece.”

The match begins and Donnie successfully implements a multitude of shots never before seen in the game of tennis. The first set goes to a tie-breaker and somehow Donnie wins the first set seven-to-six. Exhausted and stunned, Hill says she “should be ahead by six games,” and then asks the referee for a time out, returning to the locker room to take a quick nap while Donnie autographs supporters’ hats.

Refreshed, Hill returns to the court, telling the referee she had a 15-minute case of pneumonia, but she is all better now. Donnie takes off his hat and combs his hair. The crowd goes nuts as the second set begins. This time, the heavily-favored Hill begins using her “secret serve” and smokes Donnie six games to none to win Set Two. The match is even.

It appears the end is near for Donnie, but the crowd is undeterred in their support for him. A 75-year-old grandmother jumps on the court and runs to Donnie, kisses him and shouts, “Make Tennis Great Again, Donnie!” Donnie asks the referee for a brief time-out, but the ref denies him. Donnie screams at the ref, “This whole thing is rigged!” Hill shouts at Donnie, “Play the game and accept the results! I find your behavior appalling.”

Not to be outdone, Donnie quickly reaches into his pocket and pulls out his turbo-charged smart phone and sends out a Tweet: “FBI Dir. Comey, if u r watching the tennis match, tell me what is n Hill’s ‘secret serve’. #MTGA!!!!! #Hillischeating.” Seconds later, he gets his answer: “She developed it using Yoga & a trick she learned from Carlos Danger called the “Twisted Weiner.” Just return it with lots of top SPIN!”

Voila! Hill’s “secret serve” becomes ineffective and the final set is too close to call with Hill leading six games-to-five with her only one game away from the crown. Donnie’s “irredeemable” supporters desperately want Donnie to win the next game and “lock” the match at six games apiece, “deplorably” shouting, “Lock Her Up, Lock Her Up!” It’s Donnie’s serve and he sends a scorcher mid-court, right on the tape. Ace! Hill screams at the ref: “That was out!” and throws her racket into the stands, hitting her husband in the crotch and giving his companion (aka, his “niece”) a black eye. Ahem. One of her trainers runs onto the court with a new racket for Hill, this one with its strings more tightly wound.

Up 15-Love, Donnie fires a serve in the corner of the service square, again, right on the tape. Another ace. This time Hill slams her racket on the court. The ref threatens to penalize her, maybe, if she does it again. Hill retrieves her severely damaged second racket and awaits the delivery of yet another one. Donnie shouts out to her: “Hey Hill, the rules say you have to play with that racket, even if it’s “crooked.” The ref, reluctantly concurs as Hill goes into a coughing spell, coughing up a lung pearl requiring the maintenance crew to sweep the court and spray Lysol. During the maintenance work, Donnie reaches again in his pocket, pulls out his smart phone and Tweets: “Winning! Thanks Charlie Sheen. #MTGA #CrookedHillRacket #ThxComey.”

It’s 30-Love, then 45-Love, then game as Hill’s “crooked” racket makes her unable to return the easiest of shots. The crowd is foaming at the mouth, shouting: “You Locked Her Up, You Locked Her Up!” With the win, the set is knotted at six-to-six and it’s time for the tie-breaker. With Hill unable to serve or return, Donnie sweeps her in the tie-breaker and wins the match, although several U.S. tennis media, weeping “reporters” for MSNBC and CNN, say the match is STILL too close to call and that Fidel Castro was “misunderstood.”

As Donnie jumps over the net to, in tennis tradition, shake Hill’s hand, she runs away into the locker room. Donnie proceeds to the winner’s table to accept his trophy when Hill dashes back on the court, screaming: “That’s my trophy! That’s my trophy! I will not accept this outcome!”

Donnie GRABS the um, er, trophy as Hill’s supporters and the U.S. Tennis Media (sorry for the redundancy) begin to cry. One journalist screams: “Donnie won two out of three sets, but Hill won more games – 18 to 14! This isn’t fair! (sob, sob, sob) We need to abolish the “set system!”

Hill again heads for the locker room shouting “Comey gave away my ‘secret serve!” It’s not my fault! It’s my fault! (Get it?)

Donnie, brimming with pride, grabs his smart phone and Tweets: “Hill Won More Games. I Won More Sets. I Won the Match by the rules. Stop Whining! #MTGA #CrookedHillRacket #DishonestTennisMedia.”

The Electoral College our Founding Fathers instituted? Game, set and MATCH!

 

My New Documentary About Michael Moore

With my first book under my wing, I have decided to turn to documentaries. My first is about the life and times of Flint “filmmaker” Michael Moore. I’m hoping to get Seth Rogen to play the part of Moore in his early years and have former Vermont Governor Howard Dean to play the part of former GM CEO Roger Smith. I’ve just begun laying out the script and desperately need a working title. I’ve put together a few thoughts and I’m hoping my friends will weigh in and let me know what they like best.

Here goes:

Gigantic

Raging Bullshit

The Waistrix

Assatar

American Diaper

D Cup

4X-Men

Hairy Fodder

Despicable Me – Always

Shriek

Slider-Man

The Lying King

Yourassic Park

The Hungry Game

Slow and Furious

Please help me decide. Thanks.