A TEENY BLOG

A busy day today has precluded me from fulfilling my blogging duties. I am filled with shame. A better blogger would not have been as selfish as I. A better blogger would have mustered up the energy and courage to at least write something. 

It wouldn't have to be much. Just perhaps a small blog about being busy and not having the time.

Alas. I cannot do that. I'm too new to blogging to just sit and  write something like that.

A better blogger would do a quick, little poem. Something like:

I have a fish

His name is Roy

And when he's bad

We feed him poi.

But when he's good

That lucky fish

He gets to eat

His favorite dish.

The dish he eats

That happy boy

Also happens 

To be poi.

Yeah. If I were a good blogger who doesn't have much time to blog I'd do a poem like that. But I'm not.

A better blogger who longs to be hired by NBC to be the color commentator for the sport of curling at the winter Olympics would try to do a little something to move that dream forward. He'd remind everyone to continue calling NBC. He'd say he's still learning what the broom and mop thingies are for. Alas, I may love curling, but I am not that good at off-the-cuff blogging yet.

So forgive me. Tomorrow I shall blog again.

LORD CHITTENDEM AND THE MINI WAR WITH THE PHILIPPINES

In part two of my conversation with the legendary member of the Royal Family, Lord Chittendem talks about his involvement in the mini war with the Philippines.

Again, sorry about the poor quality of the recordings, but they are over 30 years old...

I WAS IN THE WORST MOVIE EVER MADE

Some of you may claim to have seen the worst movie ever made. You'd probably say it is Ed Wood's Plan Nine From Outer Space. I would argue, however, that any movie that has survived for over 50 years and only gets more popular with each passing year couldn't possibly be bad. It's just unique. 

I have a soft place in my heart for Plan Nine From Outer Space. I know all the lines by heart. I've parodied it on Freakazoid. If someone told me that we were all going to watch Plan Nine tonight, I'd be giddy with excitement. Yes, the acting is lousy. But it's so lousy, it's brilliant. The script is incomprehensible. But never have such a combinations of words given me more joy. For me, it all boils down to this: Ed Wood was at least trying. In my book, that counts for something.

Alas, I cannot say the same thing for what truly IS the worst movie ever made. A movie I was in. A movie that you will never see. Be thankful. Be grateful. Beware.

The movie is I.F.O. Just typing those three letters gives me something akin to irritable bowel syndrome. Actually, there's nothing akin about it. It is irritable bowel syndrome.

I was 24. I was performing improv at the LA Connection. After the show a German man came up and introduced himself to me. He was making a movie. He also introduced himself to Marc Drotman and Tony Lovett. They were in the group with me and good friends.

He asked us to come to an audition the next day. We did. The audition consisted of us doing...improv. There were no lines to read. We just sorta did silly improv stuff. That should have been our first warning that things weren't quite right. I've since learned that he had us improv because there was no script yet. The movie was going to shoot in two weeks and there was no script. Actually there was a script. But it was in German. A meticulous translation was underway.

We were hired on the spot. Would we like to be in a movie? WHU? YEAAAAAAH!

I remember Marc, Tony and me all rushed to phones to call our parents. We had made it. Stardom. The big time.

Two weeks later we arrived in Tehachapi, California for a week's worth of shooting. Never has such horribleness been put to film.

Our director was from Germany. He was an actor who worked often with Rainer Werner Fassbinder, a German director of considerable reputation. I can't say that any of that rubbed off on him. Still he was pleasant enough. I think, anyway. We could never really understand him. Not only did he have a very thick accent, but he spoke very softly. Truth be told, I still have no idea what he said. This can be a problem when you're making a movie. 

He'd give you direction and before you had time to say, "What?" he'd yell ACTION! Which is why, if you ever see the movie (which I urge you not to do) every scene starts with a puzzled expression on all the actors faces. After about three seconds of puzzlement, we all slowly start doing our lines.

The movie we were about to film was about a small, talking, toy-sized helicopter that was invented by two "brilliant" scientists (Me and Tony Lovett.) The fact that Tony and I were in our early 20's didn't seem to bother anyone. My character also had a teenage daughter, which would have meant I had become a father at the age of 8. But, I was "brilliant" so maybe. I dunno.

Anyway, the CIA steals this obnoxious, talking, toy helicopter from us or something (I've tried to erase it from memory) and it...I dunno. Something happens. But in the end, the helicopter meets a young teenage boy and they become friends. The end. 

The script was....well. Who ever translated it from German did so literally. For instance, a line like, "What are you talking about? That's impossible!", was given to us as, "You are talking about something I am unaware of! That which you refer to is not workable in the realm of possibility."

There was also a large chunk of the script that was simply TBD. (To Be Determined.) We found out that TBD would involve Tony and myself improv-ing our lines. Making it up as we went along.

Another part of the script called for a scene in our high-tech laboratory. We had filmed all week and still not been in this high-tech laboratory. When we asked where the set was we were told it was being built.

Finally, we were driven to the set. It was a barn. A real barn. They had swept out the hay. Inside they had placed an old console television on one end. They had found the TV on the side of the road. That was our high-tech lab. It's really hard to pretend to fiddle with high-tech dials when they're on a console TV that's been placed on its side. Still, we did our best. I remember fiddling with the TV while saying lines like, "The newton flux field is modulating nicely. But I'm getting an arc on the looten tube!"

The helicopter itself was a remote-control gas-powered horror. It had been purchased from a hobby store and modified with all sorts of high-tech gizmos. Unfortunately, that made it too heavy and it could only hover about an inch from the ground. That didn't mean it couldn't hover from side to side and almost cut your legs off.

One scene called for Marc to scream as the helicopter got close. Marc screamed. But his screams were real. The helicopter was about to disembowel him.

About three months after we made the movie we were invited to a screening. Being new to making movies I had thought, "Well, I'm sure they added stuff and it'll be okay." It wasn't. Now, generally I'm pretty optimistic about things and try to see the positive. I have a dog with three legs. But to me, he has four. Understand? However, the movie that unspooled in front of me that afternoon was a dog with NO legs. It just sort of flopped around. It was an ugly dog, too. An ugly, no-legged, flopping dog with anal leakage.

I remember rushing back to work at KABC thankful that I had a job.

How bad was it? Well, about five years later my best man got a hold of a copy and thought it would be funny to show at my bachelor party. His thinking was, "This will be hysterical!" Everyone had been drinking heavily and smoking cigars and there was much mirth and merriment. When the movie started everyone started laughing. "Oh! Oh! This is going to be funny!" 

Know that it's really hard to take 30 drunk, happy, cigar smoking men and immediately turn them into quiet, somber men with thoughts of suicide. And that was only after watching the 1st minute.

Anyway, I need you to trust me on this. You have not, and luckily, will not ever seen the worst movie ever made. Make fun of Plan Nine if you must. But I have seen the true beast. Prithee go not where I hath.

BLOG HOUSEKEEPING

As you know, I want to be hired to be the color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics.

You'll notice that I've made some temporary changes to the site. It occurred to me that NBC is going to want to make sure I really know curling as much as I say I do. So I've added a bunch of curling stuff in the sidebar. I'm not sure what it all is, but check it out and especially visit the links I've provided to other curling sites on the web. That way, others in the curling community will see that I am not only a fan, but helping build the visibility of curling within the general public. That will reflect well on me.

Also, if you wouldn't mind, when you do comment on one of my posts, try to add something about curling. Something like, "Good blog, Paul. By the way, wasn't that game great last night? Henderson brought the rock into the house like nobody's business." You know. Something like that. Actually, I'm not sure if it's a curling match or a game...so just use both like this: "Wemble was great in the match/game last night."

Also, a special thanks to Takineko. She had her friend Maz call NBC. That's a step in the right direction. But we're going to need more steps like that. Remember to use your script. Here's a link.

I'll get back to the regular blog tomorrow with a new clip from my interviews with Lord Chittendem. 

I'm going to stay home today in case NBC calls. So nobody call me. I don't want to tie up the line.

I EXPECTED MORE FROM YOU

I'm not criticizing, but it's been a whole day and I haven't heard a word from NBC Sports. Maybe some of you called them, maybe some of you didn't. I'm not in your heads, so I'm not going to judge. But I'm running out of time.

If I'm going to be hired to be the color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics, I need to know as soon as possible. I'm going to need to buy shoes and prepare and learn what the broom thingies are for.

So, if the problem is you don't know what to say if you call or write NBC, I have a solution. I've provided a script for you to follow. (Note that I've written various responses based on likely questions you may get from the person on the other line. Please read it over carefully before you call so it doesn't sound like you're reading. This sort of thing worked very well for Obama volunteers.)

FIRST DIAL THE NUMBER FOR NBC IN NEW YORK. I THINK IT IS (212) 664-4000. IT WON'T WORK IF YOU DON'T DIAL IT. THEY ARE NOT GOING TO CALL YOU.

A.

THEM: "Hello. NBC. How can I help you?"

YOU: "I would like to speak to the person in charge of hiring the color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics. Can you connect me post haste?"

B. 

THEM: (possible response one) "Excuse me?"

YOU: (possible response one) "Let me speak to you supervisor at once! I am most dissatisfied with the way I am being treated."

OR

C. 

THEM: (possible response two) "Of course I will connect you to our Sports Department. They will put you in contact with someone that can help you in your query."

YOU: (possible response two) "Thank you so much. Give me your name so that I may praise you to the people that have hired you." (Note: Don't write their name down. You're just being nice.)

IF POSSIBLE RESPONSE ONE WAS USED, GO DIRECTLY TO D. IF POSSIBLE RESPONSE TWO WAS USED, SKIP DIRECTLY TO E BELOW.

D. 

THEM: "This is the supervisor to the receptionist you were just speaking to. Is there a problem?"

YOU: "Not yet. But there will be unless I am treated with respect! I want to speak to the person in charge of hiring the color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics."

THEM: "I'm sorry. I don't have that information."

YOU: (long, angry sigh)

THEM: "But I can connect you to NBC Sports."

YOU: "Fine. If that's the best you can do. I am most dissatisfied. Carry on and transfer this call."

E.

THEM: "NBC Sports. How can I help you?"

YOU: "I wish to speak to the person in charge of hiring the color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics."

THEM: (possible response one) "I'm sorry. Mr. Thmeling, isn't in. Can I take a message?"

YOU: (possible response one) "Yes. And don't just pretend to take the message. Write it down. I wish that he would hire Paul Rugg to be the color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics. I am a fan of curling and Paul Rugg knows the sport so well. Obviously he knows what the brooms and mops are for. Ha ha ha. Why wouldn't he? My friends and I would watch more coverage of the Olympics if you hired Paul Rugg who has received an Emmy and a Peabody but he doesn't talk a lot about that. Thank you for listening to me. I have to go help the poor now. Good bye."

THEM: (possible response two) "That would be Mr. Thmeling. I'll transfer you."

(Note: Sometimes it takes a while for important people to get their call. Don't be lulled into a false sense of security and use the bathroom or anything. Stay focused and rehearse your lines.)

THEM: "Hank Thmeling. How can I help you."

YOU: "I would like you to hire Paul Rugg as color commentator for the sport of curling at the Winter Olympics."

THEM: "I've already got my color commentator. Chuck Rensling.(Or another name.)"

YOU: Ohhhh. I see. Hmmmm.

THEM: "Is there a problem?"

YOU: "There quite a bit of scandal swirling around that man. My friends and I in the curling fan community are going to boycott. What a pity. We love curling. But how can we watch if THAT man is allowed to be on the air after what he's done. I shall have to alert others in the curling fan community to do so as well. What a shame. Paul Rugg is such a great color commentator when it comes to curling. He's very aware what the brooms or mops are for. Ha ha ha. Why wouldn't he be? Still, if you have made your choice. Paul's Emmy is in the repair shop. It got knocked against the other two Emmys and chipped. What a shame. At least the Peabody is safe."

THEM: "Hhmmm. Give me your number. I'm going to make some calls."

YOU: (give them your number.)

THEN:

YOU: "Thank you so much for speaking with me. I have not been asked by Paul Rugg to make this call and am acting on my behalf."

HANG UP QUICKLY

So, there's your script. Now do me proud.

HELP ME REALIZE MY DREAM

It's not everyday that I am struck with a thought so profound as to render all previous profound thoughts....not. (Profound.)

And yet, such a monumental profound thought was blown into me this past Saturday. 

I was watching TV while waiting for my family to get ready to go somewhere. (Where we were going isn't important, but it is humorous and I shall blog about it on a day where I want to be humorous and not profound.)

I was watching the women's olympic trials for the sport of curling. And then it hit me. 

The profound thought was thus: I WANT TO DO THE COLOR COMMENTARY FOR THE SPORT OF CURLING FOR NBC AT THE WINTER OLYMPICS.

I had never really watched curling. And if I did, I was always one of "those" cruel, mean-spirited people who made fun of it. (Perhaps you know one of those people. Perhaps you are one of those people. If you are, never visit my blog again. I break with thee. Fie to you! 

Curling...or should I say the AWESOME SPORT OF CURLING is the most captivating sport I have ever seen.

It is played on ice. That is pleasing. 

There is a round, heavy weight that glides across the ice. It goes slow enough so your eyes can follow it. 

Part of the sport involves the use of a mop or broom. So it's a clean sport.

There is a bullseye so you know what they're aiming for. 

There's not a lot of sweating which is much more hygienic. 

The sport...ahhh...is perfection.

A person firmly slides the round, pleasing weight down the ice. It glides down the ice on its own toward the bullseye. Two people walk next to the weight and mop in front of it. (I'm not sure why they do this. I have my theories. But I'm going to research it and get back to you. Of course, before I do the color commentary for NBC, I'm going to need to know because I want to sound informed. Hey, if you know why they use the brooms, let me know. Okay?)

Now, here's the important part in all of this. I need your help to make my dream a reality. If anyone knows anyone at NBC, could you put in a good word? Let them know I'm crazy about the sport and would love to do the color commentary during the Olympics. 

Tell them I know all about curling. Don't tell them I don't know what the brooms or mops are for. I'll do some research. If they ask if I know what the brooms or mops are for, just sort of laugh and say something like, "Are you kidding? Does he know?" You know, say something like that. But make it real. Don't overdo it or they'll be suspicious. 

Also, let them know I'd be willing to make it to Vancouver on my own, but I'll need a hotel room. I don't want to bunk in anyone's house. I need my me time. 

It's important you tell them I'm not doing this for free. I'm not budging on that. I'm not some amateur that just got off the truck from San Diego. If you can, try to mention that I've won an Emmy and a Peabody. But make it genuine. Don't just say I've won and Emmy and a Peabody. Try to work it into the conversation naturally. Something like this, "Oh, Paul loves Bob Costas. He thinks he saw him at the Emmys when he won. He didn't see him at the Peabody awards when he won that one time." 

Okay? Are we clear? Thanks for helping. I really want this. So don't blow it for me.

PAUL HARVEY AND THE DAY WE BROUGHT GREAT SHAME TO OUR BELOVED LEADER

Stand by for news!

A lot of people (okay, maybe two) have asked where we got the idea to use a parody version of Paul Harvey on Freakazoid.

To commemorate Mr. Harvey's passing yesterday, I've decided that today is as good a time as any to spill the beans. 

First we must journey to those money-soaked days of Warner Brothers Animation in the Spring of 1994. 

Tom Ruegger had called me at home one night to tell me that we had won a Peabody for Animaniacs. I remember saying, "A Peabody? Are you sure? Do they give those to cartoons?"

60 Minutes had gobs of Peabodys so you can understand my confusion. They did stuff. We didn't. (Well, we did stuff, we just didn't do THAT sort of stuff.)

Happily, Tom was correct. We had won a Peabody. And within a month, many of us would be flying to New York to accept this prestigious diddy of all diddies. 

We would all go to New York because Jean MacCurdy (president of Warner Brothers Animation) convinced the big boys at Warners that we all had to go. It was a group award, she argued. And, God Bless that woman, she won.

I might be leaving some folks out, but as I recall the attendees were as follows: Randy Rogel, Tom Minton, Peter Hastings, Tom Ruegger, John McCann, myself and...perhaps someone else that I'll kick myself for not remembering.

Here's a tip: If you ever go to New York to win an award, go with Jean MacCurdy. She planned two days filled with yumminess. 

Having been to the Emmys on a number of occasions, let me just say that winning a Peabody is the best. Why? Because you already know you've won before you show up. There's no nervous tension, just happy little thoughts and limo rides and wine.

As we flew to New York we looked at who else would be at the Peabody Awards and who else was getting an award. The other winners were impressive. Christiane Anampour. 60 Minutes. (I told you.) The Larry Sanders Show. And lots of other smart people.

My eyes widened when I saw that Paul Harvey would win a special life-time achievement award. Paul Harvey. I had been doing an impression of him since I was a teenager. I started doing my (lame) impression and annoying everyone in my group. "Paul Harvey..........Good Day." I also started doing Paul Harvey saying the word, "Peabody." Over and over. Long drawn out, Paul Harvey...."PEA...BODY."

Anyway, we landed and Jean showed us the town. The morning of the award, Jean set up a special breakfast for us at the Regency Hotel...home of the original 'Power Breakfast.' As we ate, Randy Rogel pulled out his small date book in which he had entered that on that day he was going to win a Peabody award....just another chore in a long list of chores. It made us all laugh. 

After breakfast we followed mother MacCurdy like little ducklings until we arrived at the Time Warner Building. She was taking us to meet Gerald Levin, the CEO of the company and VERY IMPORTANT MAN. We we got off the private elevator to his offices and blast of heat hit us. I'm telling you, it must have been 100 degrees. From that day on, we all agreed that Mr. Levin was an alien and could only survive in a climate much like his home planet. (It was also around this time that he was planning his merger with AOL. Too bad he didn't ask us, we'd have told him to forget about it.)

And then, the ducklings followed mom to the Waldorf Astoria for the awards. There was a reception before the actual event. We all had champagne. Then more. Then wine. By the time we were all in the ballroom for the awards, we were all very...happy. This is fun!

The actual awards were very respectable. Christiana Anampour talked about her efforts in the Middle East. I remember us all looking at each other. "What the hell are WE doing here?"

Then we won and Jean went up and said smart things. We had more wine. Happy. Happy.

Then, Paul Harvey was presented with his award. He came to the mic...and I swear this is true...took a long pause and then said...."PEA...BODY. THE PEA....BODY." It sounded like me doing an impression of him. John McCann and I started giggling. Then Ruegger. Then Peter Hastings. It was a church laugh. The laugh that you want to stop but can't. I had to duck my head under the table. Mama MacCurdy was not pleased with her young wards. We all tried our best. We got it under control. And then, Mr. Harvey once again said....'PEA...BODY." We lost it. Every time we got ourselves quiet he would say, "PEA....BODY" again.

I remember thinking, "Oh please. Please. Please, Lord. Make him finish."

He gave a great speech. I wish I would have heard it.

Anyway, when we all got back to LA, John and I would always say, "PEA...BODY." We'd go for walks during lunch and do Paul Harvey impressions.

SO...

When we came on board for Freakazoid, John and I were walking one day and started doing impressions of Paul Harvey telling Freakazoid stories. It made us laugh. A lot. We pitched it to Tom Ruegger and he agreed.

And now you know...THE REST OF THE STORY.

GOOD DAY.