Fred Kaplan does the math and comes to the inescapable conclusion: In order to send any more troops into Afghanistan, the U.S. will have to start taking them out of Iraq.
Cartoonist Ted Key died Saturday at his home in Tredyffrin Township, PA, just outside Philadelphia. He was 95 and had been in failing health after a diagnosis of bladder cancer in late 2006 and a stroke last September.
Key was famous for his character Hazel, the sassy maid who first appeared in cartoons he drew for The Saturday Evening Post in 1943. She became a regular feature of that magazine and later appeared in books collecting those cartoons, a syndicated newspaper strip and a popular TV series that ran on NBC and CBS for four seasons beginning in 1961. The above photo shows Key with the acclaimed actress, Shirley Booth, who played Hazel and won two Emmy awards for so doing.
But Hazel was hardly Key's only notable creation. In the late fifties, he worked with animation producer Jay Ward (a childhood friend of Ted's brother, Leonard) and created Mr. Peabody and Sherman, the improbable time travellers who were featured on Rocky and His Friends, aka The Bullwinkle Show. Peabody and Sherman quickly joined the ranks of immortal cartoon characters and a major motion picture of their adventures is presently in the works.
Key authored numerous books and was responsible for the storylines of three motion pictures made by the Disney company in the seventies — Million Dollar Duck, Gus and The Cat from Outer Space. He was also responsible for the comic feature Diz and Liz that ran from 1961 through 1972 in the popular children's magazine, Jack and Jill.
Ted Key was born Theodore Keyser in Fresno, CA on Aug. 25, 1912. In 1933, he graduated from the University of California at Berkeley and relocated to New York where he freelanced cartoons for magazine and occasionally wrote for radio. He eventually relocated to Philadelphia where he continued to write stories and draw cartoons. Key retired in 1993 but King Features still syndicates the Hazel strip using material he prepared for his retirement. He is survived by his second wife, three sons and three grandchildren. In lieu of flowers, the family is asking that donations be made to the American Cancer Society.
Okay, I didn't turn in when I said I was going to. Remember that story I linked to earlier? The one about the incredible act of sportsmanship in a softball game? This one.
Right. Well, earlier this evening, my friend Bob Elisberg e-mailed me that a nice video telling of the tale had run on ESPN Sportscenter and would probably rerun several times overnight. So I set my TiVo to record ESPN and, sure enough, when I went to check on my way to bed, there it was, nicely told. It inspired me to go prowling the ESPN site and there, I found a video embed of it that I can put here. Take a look. It runs six minutes.
I like my new Lexmark printer...like it a lot. What I don't like is their Tech Support Department. About two weeks ago, I phoned the 800 number to ask if it was possible to make the printer do a certain thing that did not seem to be covered in the manual. I was placed on hold a lot as I was routed from department to department for over 45 minutes, during which I actually only talked to two different people, neither of whom had a clue as to what I was talking about. I suspect they were in India, which is fine, but I also suspect neither one had ever touched a Lexmark printer in his life. That is not fine. Their combined expertise appeared to be limited to how to look up the answers to caller questions in some database of stock responses.
Maybe there was no stock response to my question or maybe neither one understood me. But the first one gave up and handed me off to the second one, and the second one wasted an awful lot of my time 'n' energy, putting me on hold and taking me off it before he finally announced that there was no way to do what I wanted to do. He also kept saying, "Is there anything else I can assist you with?" and then not comprehending my reply of "You haven't helped me with anything yet, sir." Finally, I told him I was giving up and got off the line, whereupon I figured out how to do what I wanted — the thing he'd told me could not be done — in about ten minutes. And once I figured out how to do it, I was able to find it in the manual, where it was all along.
Friday, I got a follow-up call from another gent with Lexmark — also, I suspect from his accent, within walking distance of the Taj Mahal. His mission was to make sure I was satisfied with my experience with their Tech Support. I said no and and explained to him that it took me 45 minutes to get no help whatsoever from people who didn't know what the heck they were doing. I'm not sure he understood what I was telling him, either...but he apologized about twenty-nine times for whatever it was.
I'm really tired of total strangers apologizing to me on behalf of a company or business in which they have little power or responsibility. So an anonymous guy is sorry...where does that get me? What I'd like him to say is something that leads me to believe my complaint will be passed along to folks who might do something to make sure it doesn't happen again.
But what I'd really like is an extra option when the recorded voice tells me my call will be answered in the order received. It would say something like, "A member of our staff will be with you shortly. At any time during your conversation, press the pound key if you'd like to speak to someone smarter."
Good night, Internet. I'm turning in early tonight. Early for me lately, at least.
Sorry to hear of the passing of Alvin Colt, the great designer of Broadway costuming, at age 92. Mr. Colt designed what people wore in over 50 Broadway shows and countless off-Broadway and regional productions. His credits included Li'l Abner, Guys & Dolls, On the Town, Wildcat and so many more. Here's a recent profile of the man. It runs about eight minutes...
I met Mr. Colt a few years ago when I was hanging around the Forbidden Broadway folks. He struck me as a very modest man who felt genuinely privileged to have been a part of so much theatrical history. I wanted to talk to him about some of the shows he'd done — especially Abner — but somehow, we only chatted about the problems of clothing one's self when one is very tall. (Mr. Colt was noticeably taller than I am and I'm 6'3".) He said that one reason he became a clothing designer was because everything that came off the rack in his size was so ugly. Whatever the cause, I'm glad he got into that line of work because he did it very, very well.
May 6, 2008
