Bing Crosby

I’m not *at* *all* fond of Christmas- Partially because it coincided so closely with my mother’s death in 1975. I’m sure I’m not the only person who finds the sound of Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas” both obnoxious and depressing, since it brings to mind some hopelessly idealized vision of ecstatic Christmas happiness.

It wasn’t until recently that I learned a couple things that made me feel better. Bing had four sons by his first wife. The eldest, Gary Crosby, achieved a modicum of success as an actor playing a supporting role as a Los Angeles cop in Adam-12. Gary Crosby wrote a book called Going My Own Way, in which he excoriated his father as being a terrible parent. His youngest brother disputed those claims, so who knows where the truth lies? One aspect of the Crosby family that strikes me as absolutely *ghastly* is that Bing’s second and third sons, who were twins, both committed suicide. Sounds to me as though there was something seriously wrong in that household.

The last piece of evidence for me is that fact that Bing Crosby was a *fabulously* wealthy man and, when he died, he left his sons trust funds that they could not collect on until their *sixtieth* birthdays. Ironically, none of his four sons lived that long. So cheer up, people. Don’t let Bing singing “White Christmas” get you down. I’ll bet his family was a *lot* more dysfunctional than yours.”


Bing Crosby in a rare toupee-less moment.

Another "Daycare Defector"

One of my dearest friends is an extraordinarily sweet-natured woman named Barbara who has three children who are currently either in college, or have graduated. I remember watching her play with her children years ago and thinking about how lucky those children are to have such a wonderful mother. Over the years, that impression has only grown stronger. (A few years ago, she took in one of her nephews, who was in his late teens, another testament to the goodness of her heart.) I was impressed with her as a mother to begin with, but all the more so when I learned that she operates a daycare center, caring for between five and eleven preschoolers. (My collaborator just said that isn’t so bad if you have the right cages.)

Barbara is the only woman I’ve ever met who *might* be accused of being too good a mother. She occasionally unintentionally embarrasses other mothers. I recently learned that a three-year-old child, after having completed a stint at Miss Barbara’s Daycare, ran away from home. The kid ran to Miss Barbara’s home. This is *not* the first time such a thing has happened. (A couple of years ago, different 3 year old, same destination) I’m not entirely sure whether this indicates that the child’s birth parents should take a good, long look at themselves, or that this is another indication that Miss Barbara is Supermom, or both.

Merlin Olsen: Football Star, Florist and Actor

Merlin Olson was always one of my favorite football players. He played *fifteen* *years* in the NFL for the Los Angeles Rams and made All-Pro every year until, finally, old age and knee injuries caught up with him. People younger than I, no doubt, know him as a TV sports color commentator and as the most successful flower salesman FTD has ever had.

He always comes across as being very thoughtful and well-spoken. If I ever met him, I would seriously consider politely asking him if he was okay with being hugged by a total stranger. (He not only earned his college degree, but picked up an MBA, graduating cum laude.) He also achieved a certain amount of success as an actor. Once, at a Hollywood party, as Merlin was sipping a fruit juice (as a devout Mormon, drinking alcohol is a no-no), his teammate Roman Gabriel mentioned that he had an offer to be in a movie and asked if Merlin would like to join the production. There was a part in the film that was perfect for him.

Merlin asked, “Is it fun?”

“Yes.”

“Do you make money?”

And a Hollywood legend was born. The film was a John Wayne/Rock Hudson vehicle called "The Undefeated". Although Olsen only had about ten lines and had no previous acting training, I seriously doubt that Brando, Olivier, Gielgud or DeNiro could have played the part of “Little George” the blacksmith, as well as Merlin Olson did. You see, the key to that part was that they needed someone who was huge enough to dwarf both John Wayne and Rock Hudson by comparison. Since Merlin stands 6’5” and was 275 pounds of solid muscle, so he fit the bill quite well.

This was not the end of Merlin Olson’s acting career. Many viewers may recall him in the role of the Ingalls family’s next-door neighbor in Little House on the Prairie. Olsen looks big enough to wrestle a bear, but gentle enough that you'd trust him to hold your pet parakeet in the palm of his hand.

Audiences found Olsen’s presence and manner so appealing that, in 1981, he even got the opportunity to play title role in a TV drama called Father Murphy. In it, he played a benevolent fellow posing as a monk so he could help a group of orphans. (How schmaltzy can you get?) The series did run into one snag early on. In one episode, the script called for Father Murphy to get the news that a nefarious group of bad guys were going to shut down the orphanage and convert it into a sweatshop. The script also called for Father Murphy to fly into a rage. They did a take, but the director told Merlin he wasn’t producing a suitable rage, so they shot another take, and another, and another and another. Finally, when it became clear that they weren’t get a good “rage” out of Merlin Olson, the TV execs asked Merlin why he couldn’t even pretend to be angry. He told them that it was probably the result of something his parents had told him almost thirty years earlier. He was almost full-grown at the very early age of twelve. Even for a kid his size, he was possessed of a near-Herculean strength. One day, his parents sat him down for a talk. They told him, “Merlin, do not EVER lose your temper. You could kill someone if you do!”

The series was cancelled after one season. I just love that story because, while it proves that while Merlin Olson may not be a great actor, he is a truly *outstanding* human being.

Romping With Wrigley

During my five-year stint as a public defender in Bethel, Alaska, one of my greatest joys was my occasional visits from my coworker’s extremely vocal beagle, Wrigley. The dog and I had an understanding. I kept a large box of dog biscuits in my filing cabinet and would feed that critter as many as he wanted. In return, Wrigley would make it clear that he thought I was absolutely, positively the most wonderful person in the world. This was downright therapeutic for me after having disgruntled clients calling me *everything* but a Precious Child of God 8-5 Monday through Friday.

Wrigley would run away from home, lurk outside the public defender’s office door and dart in at his first opportunity. He would then scamper down the hall and scamper to my office door, scratching and trying to turn the doorknob with his paws. This was a sight that never failed to crack me up. Furthermore, Wrigley did not bark like most dogs. That critter *hooooooooooooooowled*. I do not have an English-to-Beaglish dictionary, but I *think* he was saying, “Biscuits! Biscuits! I want biscuits right now!”

I told Wrigley’s owner that the dog was a talented creature. Not only could he sing, but he could dance. I would hold up a biscuit, and Wrigley would dance on his hind legs, trying to snatch the biscuit from my hand.. I’ve noticed that some dogs are dainty eaters. Wrigley could scarf one down in two seconds flat, then look at me as if to say, “So...... what have you done for me lately?”

The biscuit box gave instructions to only give a dog one biscuit for every seven pounds of body weight; I suspect that Wrigley may be the world’s only 147-pound beagle. If I ran out of biscuits or, as happened only occasionally, Wrigley had satisfied his appetite, the dog would run around in no apparent direction looking for a sunny place to nap. I once told Wrigley’s owner that it seemed that her dog’s life consisted of two occasions: happy hour and nappy hour. Who says that leading a dog’s life is a bad thing? Sad to say, Wrigley’s owner eventually told me to stop feeding her pet because she feared that Wrigley might get hit by a car on his way to partake of the biscuit buffet.

While I was in Alaska, I made a point of calling my father once a week. This strikes me as something a dutiful son would do, even if he has *major* issues with his father. Once time, I told my father about the joy Wrigley brought me. The next week, I committed the unpardonable gaffe of mentioning Wrigley a second time. Dad cut me off with, “I have heard all I care to hear about that dog.” I was *steamed*. So I spent the next week keeping a very careful count of the cases that our office dealt with. The next weekend, when I called my father, and he asked me what was going on, I informed him 1) that the domestic violence case against one of my clients had been dismissed because he had finally gotten around to actually killing his commonlaw wife and was facing second-degree murder charges, 2) that a DWI client was going to get his charge dismissed because he managed to drive his snow machine over thin ice and fell into the chilly waters of a local river and drowned and 3) We had a teenage client commit suicide and 4) that someone had broken into the house of our receptionist’s parents, had beaten and raped her mother and had beaten her father so badly that it was unclear whether he would live, or, if he lived, he would spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

After reciting that list, there was a *long* moment of silence on the other end of the phone. I then asked my father, “Is it really so [expletive deleted] TERRIBLE that I like talking about a happy little beagle who howls for joy when he sees me?

Schwarzkopf's Casting Choice

After General H. Norman Schwarzkopf’s retirement, some people have asked him which actor should portray him if they ever make a movie based on Desert Storm. I’m pleased to note that Schwarzkopf has a sense of humor. When Jay Leno asked him, he said, “Well, they’re considering the lookalikes…Tom Selleck, Tom Cruise and Burt Reynolds...” (He then waited for the laughter to die down.) “But the best choice would have to be Danny DeVito.”

p.s. Am I the only person to notice that General Schwarzkopf is a ringer for Jonathan Winters?

Stanley Tucci's Crazy Casting Choices

Stanley Tucci is an extraordinarily talented actor (I find it *quite* refreshing to see that a man can achieve success in Hollywood without having a full head of hair), but I sometimes wonder about the roles he chooses to play. While he played one of the resteranteur brothers in "Big Night" and Joe Mitchell in "Joe Gould’s Secret," quite frequently, he is typecast in the roles of sinister villains. He played a hit man in The Pelican Brief, the mobster Frank Nitti in The Road to Perdition and, in Billy Bathgate, he played the infamous Charlie “Lucky” Luciano. He only had two scenes, but his presence and manner was positively bone-chilling.

I once read that Mr. Tucci had gotten sick and tired of being typecast as a mobster and that he announced he would not play any more of those roles. Ironically, shortly thereafter, he appeared in Conspiracy, which is about the infamous Wannsee Conference in early 1942. Stanley Tucci played Lieutenant Colonel Adolf Eichmann.

Since I started composing this snippet, I learned that Mr. Tucci is playing a major role in the new film "The Lovely Bones." He plays the Man Next Door...who rapes and murders a teenage girl.

A Christmas Shopping Story

The story goes that the Three Wise Kings have gotten to the crest of the last hill outside Betheleham, and can even see the manger. The first king says, "This is great. I searched all over India, and I've got the finest frankincense in all of India to give to the Christ child."

The second king says, "Me too! I searched all over China for the finest gold ornaments to give to the Christ child."

And the third king says, "Uh....do you think there will be any stores open this late on Christmas Eve?"