"What I Did To Honor Friday The Thirteenth Of October Under A Full Moon"
by Holly
I...hung a 5" x 7" B/W sticker-face of Andre The Giant on the stopsign nearest my house...and is it beautiful...a gorgeous, stencilled look, against the red background.
"Stop {Andre}" the sign now reads!
Then, I headed down to the local 7-11 for some ice cream, were I met up with a gang of six or seven young boys on skateboards. I supplied them with Obey-Giant stickers for their boards, and bid them a happy Fri. the Thirteenth!
It was a cool enough way to mark the passing of the day!
The Traditional Escalating Futile Parental Disciplinary Threats:
1) "You're going to poke somebody's eye out."
2) "You're going to make me very angry."
3) "You're going straight to your room."
4) "I'm going to tell your father."
5) "I'm going to tell Santa Claus."
6) "I'm not going to give you any dessert."
7) "I'm not going to buy you any more Hot Wheels."
8) "I'm very angry now."
9) "I'm going to give you a good smack."
10) "I mean it."
11) "I really mean it."
12) "I'm not kidding"
13) smack
NOTE: If there's a real discipline emergency, such as your child has somehow gotten hold of an acetylene torch, you may have to start right in at threat
number 8.
No, you didn't read that wrong! I think we should elect Tony Clifton in the year 2001, because AK used that music for his "Elvis" bit (as did Elvis himself!)
Until we get Tony in the White House, the country can just keep on going to hell.
I except yer nommination. My runnin' mates will be a couple a chickies. For all youse who think I ain't into wommen's lib. I figure, who needs Lewinski when you got a chickie baby for V.P.
This is exciting! I'll head up his Hawaii campaign. I'm going start writing campaign slogans this weekend.
I think our biggest logistic problem is going to be in providing security for Tony. The crowds will be 500 times bigger than he's used to, and they CAN get hostile at times, as we've seen in the past. Can you imagine a crowd of 250,000 turning on him all at once??
I think he should travel around the country in a Winnabego (he'll have to fly it to Hawaii), with his "entourage."
Do you think Zmuda would be willing to handle press relations?
Dat title is a good slogan from yers trouly, and you can use it. I also like "It's Da Humor, Stupid".
Humor, rumor, tumor! Heh heh heh. Zamuda's serious like a heart attack, I'm serious like a tumor! Get it? Dat's comedy relief!
Whoever sez ya need ta worry about me in fronta da crowd, fergit it. Just put up a security screen, so nuthin' dey throw gets through. Bullet-proof glass fer da debates ain't a bad idea end I em not goin' in a Winnebago at all! I want my own, eeh, eeh, ~motorcoach~, or ~motorcade~, or whatever John Madden has - I went in his house on wheels fer a party awhlie back, end it was good enuf. Find out who did him, end I'll hire 'em!
Zamuda can't even handle his own press realations, heh heh heh. Dat's why his book ain't sellin'.
However, I would like ta offer da job of "security adviser" to dat guy who almost beat Koffman in da wrestling ring...Jerry Lawler...
Christmas eve, 2001. Network TV. Camera rolls in on Tony and two of his scantly clad "closest advisors" sitting on a bear skin rug, in front of a roaring fire. Tony's holding a highball in one hand and a cigerette in the other, as one of his "advisors" administers a gentle message and the other wipes his sweaty brow.
"Mahh friends and fans.... It's with a heavy heart I come before yoose all tonight. As yoo all know, dis grate country is being’ overrun by what mah advisers are callin’ a crisis of de values. The American way of life is under attack! Ya see it in the bars and de casinos, and de diners and motels, and trailer parks all across this great land that you and me call the good ol’ U.S. of A.! Booze and bimbos and smokes and even Sinatra’s music and good healthy red meat is bein’ trashed! A bunch of goody two shoes, insteada mindin’ there own damn business is tryin’ to tell you and me how ta conduct our own business. Dis ain’t gonna stand! Not in no Clifton adminastrashun! You decent fun lovin’ people of dis grate land elected ol’ Tony ta fight for your rights, and that’s just what ol’ Tony’s gonna do! Startin’ now.
I want to hear Tony address the problem of alcoholism and smoking with today's youth:
"Youse kids should NOT be messin' around wit' da booze an' da cigarettes, and here's why: THERE'S LESS FER ME if you do it! So knock it off, all of ya, right now! How now, brown cow? Them's some world famous rhymes ta help ya kick dem lousy habits!"
*blows smoke rings, chickie-baby hands him a drink*
Give you a clue for the bust
If you show me some trust!
Presence! With a double-ass meaning
Gifts I bestow
With my riff and my flow
But you don't hear me though!
Think fast, catch me, yo!
'Cause I throw what I know with a resonance.
For your double-ass fied
In weening yourself
Off the back of the shelf.
Jackass crackers, body stackers,
Dick-tootin' niggers
Masturbating your triggers...
JIM:
Hold it, Homeboy! (etc.)
DIXON:
Living to get older with a chip on your shoulder,
Except, you think you got a grip,
'Cause your hip got a holster.
Ain't no confessor, so buster,
You'd better just shut the fuck up - try to listen and learn!
JIM:
Cut it, Coolio! (etc.)
DIXON:
Check that ego! Come off it, I'm the prophet!
The professor! I'm gonna teach you about the Worm
Who eventually turned to catch-wreck,
With the neck of a longtime oppressor.
And he's running from the devil,
But the debt is always gaining,
And if he's worth being hurt, he's worth bringing pain in,
When the sunshine don't work, the Good Lord bring the RAIN in!
Now THAT'S shit what will help you solve the case!
The answer is in here somewhere, but I still don't get it:
I'm gonna teach you about the Worm
Who eventually turned to catch-wreck,
With the neck of a longtime oppressor.
And he's running from the devil,
But the debt is always gaining,
I'll try. This answer doesn't entirely satisfy me, but it's as far as I've been able to get in unwrapping this mystery.
First of all, Dixon (The Kid) tells us in the early verses how he's speaking with a double entendre, or "double-ass meaning". So, he's talking BOTH about his personal situation, i.e. "who killed Marcy's husband, the dead white guy in the closet", and also about the greater situation going on in the area; the parent-child cycle.
----------------------------
"I'm gonna teach you about the Worm"
I believe "The Worm" to be Marcy's eldest son, the one who was always "going at it" (fighting) with his stepfather, "the dead white guy in the closet". It's obvious that Marcy did little or nothing to intervene between her husband and her children, as is evidenced by her three wedding bands, box of condoms, and all that cash. She's caught up in her own little hell of a world.
"The Worm" also makes an appearence in the Jim Kurring "shoot out" scene.
First Meaning: The Worm is Marcy's son, the dead guy's stepson.
Second Meaning: The Worm represents the "children".
---------------------------
"Who eventually turned to catch-wreck,"
I'm not sure, but I think the words "catch wreck" mean murder.
He didn't do it at first, but he EVENTUALLY TURNED to commit murder....
--------------------------
"With the neck of a longtime oppressor."
Why did The Worm commit murder? Because he was OPPRESSED, for a LONG TIME.
Again, the "double ass meaning", the double entendre. The Worm does not just represent Marcy's son here, but also the children of everyone. The children of God.
---------------------------
"And he's running from the devil,
But the debt is always gaining,"
I think that this means "being trapped in the cycle", plain and simple.
EVERYBODY involved in this needs to get out of the cycle, needs to experience the forgiveness/redemption. But at this point -- no. They're running, but IT is gaining on them, because they're not FORGIVING, thus not breaking the cycle.
---------------------------
"And if it's worth being hurt,
It's worth bringing pain it."
This is a warning.
"If you're going to keep hurting each other, the children of God, then God is going to bring some pain down on you, to break the cycle."
It would seem that, sometimes, on the path to "health", we have to pass through a time of even greater pain or illness. The bone must be "set" before it can heal, and the "setting" can be painful. But in the end, worth it.
------------------------
"And when the sunshine ain't working,
The Good Lord bring the RAIN in!"
*_~
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See the film "Magnolia" if this makes no sense to you!
Hello, Fans, Friends, Kaufmanites, and Kats (and the rest of you, too!)
Welcome to the Thought of the Week!
First, a small update: the filmscoring work is going along well, and my schedule should be back to "fairly" normal "fairly" soon; expect my return to my usual
haunts on the net to be imminent! Thanks for understanding, all of you whom I've been slighting via email and IM, and on the BBs as well. As Kate Sith says,
"busi bakson". (Is that how you spell it, Kate?)
AND a BSTAK update - as of this mailing, our "chapter" has 25 "members"! Hooray! *_*
Onward!
This week's thoughts are drawn from a number of different sources, and are loosely structured around the topic of freedom; freedom from fear, freedom to be
onesself, to create onesself...
I'm veddy pleased to bring you the responses of some of the members of BSTAK...we are opening up some wonderful e-discussions, and I feel as though our little
"fanclub/community" has a strong positive feel to it. (Remember to keep sending out the positive vibes, everybody! *_* )
I was so happy that a long-time member of BSTAK responded to a subject that was brought up in a TOW with by sharing her personal experiences. I'd like to
thank Mary Anne for the permission to print this piece here. This was in response to the contradiction between what Einstein said, that man's two primal
motivations are "fear and longing", and what Neale Donald Walsch said, that the primary motives were "loving and fear." Mary Anne came up with an
interesting hybrid of the two:
"How about a different perspective? Loving and longing. When I thought about this, I thought of my younger days - definitely being motivated by fear and
longing or fear and loving. But as I grow older, wiser, and more content, yet still driven (longing) the fear lessens. Do I dare be silly enough to say "fearless"? I
see how life falls into place - and what is there to be afraid about? When I was younger, I feared the unknown: What will my life be like in 10 years? Will I make it
on my own? Now that I know, I can do almost anything in a pinch, well, hey The good news is that the results of getting what I longed for bring loving. The
happier I am, the more I can help other people (the ones who are also longing at this stage of the game)."
-------------------------------
A BSTAKer wrote this thought-provoking piece, which follows up on our thoughts of the past few weeks about "identity", and the nature of one's identity. He
has graciously given me permission to reprint it for the TOW.
"Who killed Andy Kaufman?"
by Don
Andy did. Not intentionally, not consciously, but he did so just as surely as he played Carnegie Hall. Let me explain.
Have you ever had an aunt or uncle, or grandparent who spent a lifetime with their spouse, then lost the spouse to death? Then, mysteriously, the surviving
spouse dies within months of the first death? I can think of a half dozen cases in my family, or among friends, where I've heard of this happening. Can you?
What's with that, anyway?
Here's my theory, and how this relates to Andy Kaufman. I think that being secure in our identity (whatever that may be) provides us with comfort and
security-and protects us!. Our identity is a sort of cocoon or shell that shields us from STRESS. When we are psychologically and emotionally secure, our bodies
are far more resistant to attack from foreign, often-fatal infections and diseases (like cancer, for example).
Often (perhaps usually) when a couple is married for 30, 35, 40, 50 years or more, this union BECOMES their identity. When the spouse dies, that identity is
stripped away, and the surviving spouse is left naked and defenseless. Often death quickly overcomes this weakened mind-body.
Who was Andy Kaufman? What was his identity? And who took it from him? David letterman said, "when you looked into Andy's eyes, it was like someone else
was driving". Others have said that Andy was always -on- always into one character or another. Others have said that Andy would NOT break character
(whatever character he was doing) for anyone, ever. Others have said there was no REAL Andy Kaufman-he WAS his characters, that WAS his identity. Andy
would joke about "Who is Andy Kaufman?" or "OK, now I’m going to show you the REAL Andy Kaufman", then he'd launch into another character!
My point is that ANDY KAUFMAN'S IDENTITY WAS HIS CHARACTERS-HIS ACT. That was it, pure and simple.
Now, the interesting part. From Zheme’s book, talking about Andy's eminent taping for the Catch the Rising Star tenth Anniversary show in September, 1982:
the material, everyone said there was nothing new, that he needed something new --- So he decided to KILL IT OFF, to put the material out of it’s misery, to
expose it as the charade and the lodestone it had become. (Remember, this is Andy's IDENTITY he’s talking about.) He planted Zmuda up front and had Rick
Newman make sure that the microphone was hidden somewhere on Zmuda's body so that Zmuda could be clearly overheard as the material was drained of it’s
blood and left for DEAD!
Now for the next few minutes Zmuda stood and did something far worse than heckling. He, line by line, did Kaufman's act from the crowd, ahead of Kaufman
by a second or two: Tenk you veddy much-Tenk you veddy much. EES de traffic-Ees de traffic. Take my wife-Take my wife. Eemetations-Eemetations. He was
relentless line upon line. Kaufman would try to ignore it, but Zmuda kept on.
And Andy was wet: his face was soaked with flop summoned from trained synopses and abetted by blistering lights and he had to say something to stop this man
in front from ruining everything. And he said, Is there a problem?
ZMUDA: No, there's no problem. The only problem is that I'm doing your act for you; If you did some new material, then I wouldn't know what you're gonna
do next.
ANDY: Well, uh I was asked to do this material tonight, okay? This is what the club asked me to do, and I'm doing it.
This interchange goes on for a while, then Zmuda reveals his planted microphone and says "Look there's a little mic on me, you see this? He hired me tonight to
come here and criticize him, you know? See today he was saying to me: Zmuda, here’s what we’re gonna do; I'll take my old material and I'll call it "Variation
on a Theme." The theme is old material and the variation is that I’m told to sit here and criticize it. <To Andy> well, it's true. Am I being honest? Am I a plant?
Is this another Kaufman put-on? Be honest, am I a plant? Tell the people. There’s a Mic here!
ANDY: Yeah <sotto voce> you're not supposed to say anything.
ZMUDA: Fine, then just cut it out <of the tape>.
This was highly abbreviated, but my point is this---ANDY WAS KILLING OFF HIS CHARACTERS--HIS ACT-- HIS IDENTITY. He was destroying his shell or
cocoon that had protected him from disease and death. One final example, from a PBS Soundstage performance in late 1982 (snipped):
FOREIGN MAN: You know, I don't care what you do to yourself, but you, you've not only ruined your career, but you've ruined mine, too!
AK: So what? Who cares?
FM; Because of you, everybody doesn’t like me, either. Why do you do thees? I think I know why. It's because you are really, underneath it all, I don't think
you're such a bad man.
AK: Oh, thank you.
FM: I think you are a shy little man. A little, scared little man. <<my note: naked and defenseless without the cocoon of his identity—his characters> >
AK: What do I have to be scared of?
FM: You're afraid of being hurt.
AK: Get outta here, go away!
FM: Because deep down inside you have a gentle soul. And that’s why you have put on thees tough-guy fascade. Because you hide your inseecurity.
AK <starting to cry> Really?
FM: You know, when you come to terms with your own deficiencies, then you’ll be able to accept your true self and won't have to hide behind thees macho act!
He never did. Instead he destroyed --- purposely killed off---- HIS OWN IDENTITY. He deliberately destroyed his security, his shell, and his cocoon, which had
previously shielded him from stress, disease, and death.
Why? I can only suppose that he felt that it was time for them to die, in the interest of artistic integrity. And I think that he fully intended to replace them with
new characters, or to fill his life with a new identity, but never got the chance. I think he purposely KILLED phase one of his career and UNintentionally
HIMSELF in the process. Sadly, we will never get to see the bigger, brighter, even more awesome 'phase two'. It died with Andy.
--Written Sep 23 2000, 1:33 PM
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A few random quotes that remind me of Mister Andy, (who was truly free), from "Conversations With God Volume 1" by Neale Donald Walsch:
"What you resist persists. What you look at disappears...You cannot resist something to which you grant no reality. The act of resisting a thing is the act of
granting it life. When you resist an energy, you place it there. The more you resist, the more you make it real - whatever it is that you are resisting. What you
open your eyes and look at disappears. That is, it ceases to hold its illusory form."
"To live your life without expectation - without the need for specific results - that is freedom."
---------------------------------------
And finally, what really has to be my favorite poem by Mister Andy; I adore the way he plays with the language and the linebreaks! And the double meaning at
the last line...ooooh!
"Untitled"
by Andrew G. Kaufman
March 26, 1965
G
eei shouldn't have warn this
iei now can't p
eei can't whenever i want t
oi can't jump around b
oyi am burdened for the rest of the d
ayi hate it caus
ei have no more freedom w
elook good and w
edig suits osh
ithink
Why do you think Andy hated hearing that refrain so much?
Here’s my take. Latka, AKA Foreign Man, was a prop. He was the unfunny side of the “contrasting walls.” He was meant to be an untalented, unfunny character to be used as a prop, as the lame wall against which the other (brilliant!) wall was displayed as a contrast.
Picture this (from Zmuda’s book): It's the Improv, mid town Manhattan, 1973. An array of talented unknowns named Jay Leno, Richard Lewis, Elayne Boosler, Joe Piscapo, Richard Belzar take the Improv's Stage. All through the show we hear a shaggy-haired young foreigner in the back of the room begging, then demanding, that Budd Friedman let him on stage. He is relentless. Finally near the end of the evening, after numerous noisy discussions between Friedman and the weirdo, the club owner threw up his hands and relented. Taking the microphone, he announced "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a visitor from afar, Mr. Andy Kaufman."
Walking out into the spotlight, this goofy guy with eyes wider than the Hudson and a thick unplaced accent began with a few extremely lame impressions, or 'eemetations' as he called them. He started with Archie Bunker, slid into Ed Sullivan, and finished with our president, Tricky Dick Nixon. Each eemetation was worse than the previous one. As you're expecting Friedman to reach for his "hook," this man continues in a hopelessly amateurish act. As his act painfully continues, some of the audience could not contain themselves and began snorting. Some of the more sensitive in the audience shot the laughers disapproving glances, embarrassed by the discomfort this poor yutz had visited upon himself and now the congregation. When he announced that he was going to do "de Elbis Presley" there was a collective groan from the house.
The poor Iron Curtain comedian then fumbled around in a tired little valise, found a comb, and began raking his hair into an Elvis coif. He reached back and pulled out some props. He combed his hair again.
By now the audience is starting to laugh-this time with him, not at him. Suddenly the house lights go down and a single follow-spot illuminated the man on stage. After a few more hair combs, just enough to whip the crowd into a laughing frenzy-this weird young foreigner began an amazing transformation. Accompanied by the strains of Strauss's famous opening from the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, he donned a spangled jacket, popped up the generous collar, hefted an acoustic guitar, and by now he is starting to really look like Elvis! Then he curled his lip in that perfect Elvisian arc and the crowd screamed.
By this time, the poor foreign soul, the cringing little man we had admired and mocked for having the guts to stand before us, was gone. The voice was now rich, sultry, and from the Deep South, as in America. "Thank yeh verra much, you can just stare at me while ah catch mah breath." This was no impression. This WAS Elvis. Then as the trademark lip twitch went out of control, he deadpanned, "There's something wrong with mah lip." This brought a huge laugh, partly because it was funny, but mostly because the audience was still in shock.
Suddenly lights begin to flash, and he launched into "Treat me like a fool." No lip-synch. Killer performance! Then a rendition of "Jailhouse Rock" that brought the house down. The audience was stunned. Speechless. They didn’t expect, nor had ever seen, andything like this! At the end of the act, this person, whoever or whatever he was, nodded politely, eyes agog, and said, "Dank you veddy much." As he left the stage everyone in the place went nuts. A full scale Kaufmanization of the first order!!
Now I ask you? Was it~ Foreign man (Latka)~ that Andy was so proud of at the end of the night? If you had been Andy, how would you feel if everywhere you went, you could see that ALL the audience had taken from this act was that this funny little foreign man was cute, and they wanted to hear him say “ibeedah?”
How would you feel, if you were Andy, and everywhere you went, cries of “Do Latka!” would fill the auditorium?
I agree Don. It's a shame that celebrities can be so talented, but are known for the silliest things. Not that Latka was silly - he was a wonderful character, but it is very sad that the majority of people can only absorb so much and can't open their simple minds to other things.
Awhile back I saw Eve Plumb (Jan on the "Brady Bunch") on a talk show. A member of the audience stood up and asked her to say, "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!" And she wouldn't do it. Good for her!
It's understandable that without the fans most celebrities wouldn't be where they are today. However, that doesn't mean that they have to stand up and act like a chimp on command. People should respect the art and talent of their favorite celebrities and give them the chance to grow. How sad is it, that the Rolling Stones MUST play "Satisfaction" for every single show?! With a million other fabulous songs, it just wouldn't be "fair" to the audience if they didn't play that 3-chord tune.
And yes, I would be very annoyed hearing the cries of "Do Latka!" everywhere I went.
I agree wholeheartedly with Mary Anne's points...it's a shame that a complex human being is reduced in the eyes of the public to a "catchphrase", whether it's Andy or Eve Plumb or Jim Carrey (Allllrighty, then!) or Robin Williams (Na-noo, na-noo).
The public can react to the live performers as if they were creations, simply existing to please their audience. It's one thing if you're Bart Simpson, and the only time you "appear" is for a performance, but entirely another thing if you're Nancy Cartwright, the ~voice talent~ of Bart Simpson, and you're barraged each day with demands to say "Don't Have A Cow, Man..."
I remember reading a piece by Andy Rooney a long time ago about this. He had written an essay because (something to the effect of) he had been asked to sign an autograph while out in public, and didn't want to, or didn't have the time, or something, and the autograph seeker was VEDDY upset! He made a comment like, "You're a public persona, and you have an obligation to be friendly to your public." Andy Rooney's essay explored exactly how far one's "obligation" to the public went, if one's job happened to bring a person into the public light. After discussing all sides, he drew the conclusion that, at the end of the day, he's written a good journalistic piece, he has no further obligation to andyone.
----------------------
Speaking from the other side, however, as someone who would ~love~ to be recognized on the street...I don't think the requests to "do" a catchphrase would be all that annoying to me. I'd be happy to be recognized. (Remember, Andy felt bitter about Latka because ABC took his "Foreign Man" character, and ran with it. AK didn't really feel like it was "him", or what he wanted to do andymore. He was just under contract. I imagine this played a role in his attitude, as well.)
You are soooo right about the exploitation of his own creation and ABC 'morphing' it into Latka. After ~all~ the genius Andy gave us, ~all~ the laughter, ~all~ the joy, it had to hurt a little for him to see that what most of his audience wanted was ABC's character.
All Andy ever wanted was to be his ~own~ man and to thrill us with his ~own~ creative energy.
If he's listening from the 'Great Beyond', though, I'm sure that he knows that he succeeded in that beyond his wildest expectations!
Holly, since me and you are both very active in the creative world - you, with your musical performances, and me with my writing - I can totally relate to what you said about being recognized on the street. As a writer, nobody knows what "Mary Anne Christiano" looks like. I've performed as a featured poet throughout New York and New Jersey, with some recognition, in print, but those gigs were few and far between.
Now of all the godforsaken things to be recognized for, here's a silly little story. When I was younger, about 23, in the mid-80s, I used to "model" for a local, now defunct glam-band called "Pharoah". I used to go onstage in a bikini and hand the musicians their guitars, very campy and fun (kinda like your "Chickie Baby" gig with Tony Clifton). I only did this a handful of times, some shows in New York and some in New Jersey, before I got bored, gave it up, and other cuties took my place. Not only was I recognized once, but twice (both times by women!) The first time was, when I was still with the band, and I was down the shore, many miles away from where we did the shows. A girl was pointing at me saying, "Pharoah, Pharoah!" I was secretly flattered. The second time was very recently. A girl came up to me and said, "You were in Pharoah!" I was thrilled, and replied, "Yeah, and that was 13 years ago!" Certainly did a lot for my ego! My point is - I'd much rather be recognized for my writing, but if I'm recognized as a "sex object" that's fine with me too - heh! (Even the famous author Anne Rice once said something to the effect of "I'd love to be a sex object!")
It certainly is true that we can't choose how we will be remembered, or for what. We each want to be remembered for those personal accomplishments that mattered most to us. But to be recognized or remembered for anything we do in life is itself a compliment. We should savor small victories, and appreciate what life sends our way!
Don and Mary Anne, I couldn't agree more - I'll take whatever victories come my way, however small! Heck, some days, just taking a shower is a small victory! (Just kidding! *_~ )
Mary Anne, I'm a BIG fan of your work, and if I ever see you on the street, I promise to come up and ask for an autograph (which I will someday sell on Ebay, so that I can retire!) *_*
Looks like we've all been busy busy lately. I've been meaning to mention this before, but have been pulled in several directions all week, myself.
Holly, please tell us about this when you have a chance: "my first gig scoring a film". My son who lives in Seattle is a filmmaker by education, training and avocation (but not by primary vocation), so I'll have him explain to me 'scoring.'
How big a film is this? Is it something that we will have an opportunity to see? Anyhow, go get 'em! And "Break a leg!" (But not literally.)You'll do a fabulous job!
"Scoring" or "Post-scoring" a film simply means composing and recording the music. For this film, they wanted spooky, 1940's period music; orchestral stuff. I enjoy working with the full range of orchestral instruments, as opposed to a more "pop" score. (The score is the music, as opposed to the script, which is the words.)
I appreciate your good wishes! It's a small-scale, low-budget, twenty minute independent film, and it may be entered in some of the popular festivals (like "Sundance" eppes?) but if you really want to see it, I'll try to arrange to mail you a video when it's done.
Spooky 1940s stuff sounds right up my alley! And if it's in Sundance, you don't even have to make me a copy - you know I'll see it here in New York! (Isn't that exciting?!)
I just wanted to let all youse lousy Koffman fans know dat if you wanna see a REAL star in action, get yerself down ta San Diego around Halloween, cuz I'm gonna be preforming a few good shows there. Mainly, I know these chickies there, so I'm doin' the gigs to impress 'em before we get down ta business in da sack!
Sack, Crack, Back-ta-back!
Not like that HACK, Koffman! Sack, LACK! Heh heh heh!
I em gonna sing all my famous songs dat are yer favorites - I Gotta Be Me, The National Anthem, I Will Surveev, and, of course, da great hit I wrote called Caroliner In Da Mornin'!
So, tell all your people in San Diego about dis once inna lifetime opprotunity ta see a genueene real Arteest...and if ya can show up, I'll try ta dump some water on yer head, ya know, so you can be included, even though yer no big star like me.
------------------------
Dis Is A Official Invite----
WHERE: San Diego, CA (which is to da South of Hollywood)
WHEN: Halloween end before end after
WHAT: Da world's greatest star singing da world's greatest hits
YOU SUCK like the leech that you are! The few scraps of notoriety that you have, you stole from Kaufman! It's only because somehow, somewhere, somebody got the crazy idea that you were an 'Andy Kaufman character' that you even managed to stick that ugly disgusting toupeed head of yours out from under the slimy rock you live under! You have no talent, no identity, no personality, no redeeming qualities whatsoever outside of your manufactured association with Andy. You wouldn't even exist if it weren't for Kaufman!! You Disgusting Leech! And don't give me the crap about Kaufman riding YOUR coattails. That vicious lie ends HERE! And NOW!
Andy stated over and over that you are not one of his characters, and that he has nothing to do with you. And (unlike you-you leech) Andy never lied!! Andy ALWAYS told the truth. Always!! And Andy was kind, gentle, sensitive, funny, caring, generous, supportive, devoted, brave and true. Just read the posts on this discussion board- you'll see! (In fact I understand that the Pope is actively considering conferring sainthood on Andy) In short Andy was everything YOU ARE NOT, you flesh eating, tobacco smoking, whiskey guzzling, drug ingesting, alley carousing, vile mouthed PIG!
Sweet innocent people come here to read about Andy and his ˜friendly, friendly world". To get information about Latka, and to find out when his conga performances are going to be re-run. To find out new information about his life, his writings, his acts. NOT to be exposed to some rude, vile, burned out lounge lizard who just keeps hanging on to whatever threads of Andy's coattails he can get his fat slimy hands on. You've been doing this for two and a half decades now--trying to steal whatever scraps you can from a good and decent, kind, generous and gentle man. Andy tried to get you to stop. He kept telling people not to believe you. Now 16 years after he's died, you still stick around like a buzzard at a burial, picking up scraps. GET A JOB. Learn to friggen' type! Wash your mouth out. Go to AA...........
Go on now- go, walk out that door.....
Don't turn around now, you're not welcome anymore
(Other than my few objections here, though, I really do love ya. Just had to get this off my chest).
Dis message is in reasponse to da crummy bum who wrote da dumb post about ME ridin' KOFFMAN's coattails!
Supposedly, dis post is supposed ta make me get all mad end tell him where to go, but at dis point, I can tell dat Zamuda is just showin' up hear to try to get more publicity for his lousy book which ain't sellin'.
Heh heh heh heh!
Aspecially funny is da part of how Koffman tol' da truth allatime. I worked with dat lousy no-talent on ONE show, for da Carnegie Hall thing. I thought I'd do him a favor, otherwise there'd be alla two people inna audience, Jerry Lawler end Koffman's gramma who was a plant! So Koffman an me got into a backstage fight during da Jingle Jangle Jingle number during which I am escorted from da premises, end at da last part of da show, he hadta dress up his little brother Mike as me! He looked like he was gonna be sick!
My point is, da whole time we worked on dat show, he ain't never told da truth ONE time! So, any of youse who believes what Koffman sez, or his cronie Zamuda, you deserve whatcha get.
I love ya too, Zamuda, sorry dat ya can't write about nothin' else but Koffman.
Remember ta come see me preformmin alla my best hits, like Caroliner In Da Mornin' end I Gotta Be Me in San Diego, da week before Hallowe'en. I em a little grey in da hair, but still em in top form!
Kaufman, Kaufman, Kaufman. Can't you get antyhing right? Damn it!
And just where is YOUR book, Tony? At least I had the b.., guts, to write one. Oh, I forgot, all you know how to do is sing (badly), pour water on people's head, and make fun of fat people!
Let's let the fan decide who tells the truth, huh?" FANS??
And as far as Carnegie Hall goes, who do you think GOT that gig? You? It was Andy's charity that allowed you on the show. I advised him against it. We were lucky the good people of New York City didn't walk out when you appeared.
But since you're probably on life support by now (what are you-about 70?), I'll go easy. Still hangin' out at those sleazy Vegas Strip clubs?
Firstly, I wrote a lotta books, only I write 'em with a phoney-baloney name, cause I don't want da fans swampin' me more dan dey already do. I wrote a grate book called "Orgasm" in which I call myself "Tony Ward" insteada "Clifton". You can look fer it in whatever kinda adult bookstores ya got nearby.
So dat's secondly, about letting da fans decide! Da fans have decided I'm frickin' great! I can't even use my own name or face for my book!
End, thirdly, I hang out at da high class strip joints, cause I know lots of da chickies who work there, end two or three of 'em usually wind up comin' home to my penhouse with me. End not always Vegas, either...I usually play the Shoes and Socks Lounge in Reno and Tahoe, end have more "friends" there.
Finally, fourthly, I em fifty-five years old, end never looked or felt bettah! I lost a little weight, which is good, end anyone who wants to can turn up in the South California area end see for themself!
End finally finally, end last of all, no, YOU have a Jack Daniels on you! *dumps it on his head*
>>I can't even use my own name or face for my book!<<
Need I say anything about that? If you'd get on an excercise program, stop eating all that garbage, cut down on the booze and butts, get a decent wig, and invest in just ONE presentable suit of clothes, you wouldn't have that problem. I've been tellin' you that since 1975!
And that drink on the head thing? You wore that out years ago. I'm still pissed about you doin' that to me on the Midnight Special! Get some new material.
But I will come by to see you in Southern Cal. Seeing you struggle to hit those high notes on "My Way," now THAT'S HUMOR!
Here is what is true comedy releef, pal - YOU tellin' anybody to lose weight! Everyone knows you'd still be out impressonatin yers trouly if you could still fit into the tux! Even dat lousy Koffman hadta wear a fat suit for da bit about makin' his impressonation of me look fatter than I really am...dat's HIS ides of comedy releef, see? But YOU never even hadta put on da suit!
Lemme tell ya something' pal, da bit with da drink on da head...this is classic material. Classic material do not go out of date. Just like Baytoven or Frank Sinatra, classic material only gets better wit' age. You ain't got no taste.
If you was so pissed about gettin' da drink all over ya, why didn't ya do something about it then, eh, Bob? Too shy, BOB? BAAAHHHHHHBBB! BAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHBBBB!!! Whatcher last name, Upanddowninthewater? Heh heh heh heh!
Lookin' forward to seein' ya - I gotta grate idea. Lets you an' me each sing da star spangeld bannar, en see who da audience likes bettah, you or me, OK?
Here's a little something for the rest of yous who might be readin' like Holly end Mary Anne end whoever is lurking. I don't wantcha to feel left out. This next part is just for you:
I was back east this past winter, end it was really cold! Brrrr! Cold! End so I was thinking, why don't we turn on all da air conditioners? How come everybody don't crank up da air conditioners real cold, so da cold would feel EVEN COLDER!!!!
HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH heh heh heh heh!!!
Now DAT is some humor everybody hear will appriciate!
Thanks for the lesson on 'taste,' TC. You won't mind if I consider the source, though, will ya?
And about your idea to have a SSB sing-off---There's one BIG difference between us, Tony. ~I~ recognize that I can't sing, so I don't embarrass myself and everyone else pretending I can!
It's been good chatting with ya. See you in Southern Cal, Pal.
Bob
PS- I gotta admit, your material IS improving with age--don't know if it's your age or mine! But you did cause some laughs on this side of cyberspace!
Why don't you both (!) just face the fact that Kaufman's dead? Here you are, two grown men, each hell-bent to claim scraps from Kaufman's carcass for you own self-serving purpose, in a way that would make Andy roll over in his grave. Have you no shame?
Zmuda- face it-- Andy did it his way, not yours, no matter what you try to peddle. The public's not that gullible.
Tony- Kaufman put your name in lights. But that was a long long time ago, and it was ONLY his brilliant on-stage manner that acheived this. You had your 15 minutes.
Hey, I gotta grate idea? Da two a youse oughtta get together an' write books about famous dead guys who can't fight back, end you can call yerselves "The Bobs".
Get it? "The Bobs" like that group dat did that lousy music for Koffman's dumb wrestling show!
That's a world class idea from a world famous entertainer, end I'll let you use it for free, cuz that's the kinda guy I em.
Have fun, Baaahhhhhhhbbbbs, but remember, don't neither one of you go writin' about me!
The second guy blew it - yer name's not Bahhhhb at all, it's Bill! How ya gonna have a funny joke on bein' da Baaahhhbs if yer called Bill??? You can fergit my good idea - I ain't wastin' it on a guy who causes trouble by havin' da wrong name!
As you know, I live close enough to San Diego to come see you - and it would be wonderful to see you again! It was great fun at the Comic Convention, and I know your shows are going to be wonderful! Please email me with further information, when you can, Sir. Thank you, and thank you for the invitation!
PS. Don't listen to Zmuda. We have lots of people running around here who aren't "real".
It's your sleazy two bit lounge lizard friend that I'd question! He only exists because Kaufman rescued him from the miserable scumbag "existance" he had before Andy met him. Andy, in his infinite compassion, offered this creep a REAL life. A life beyond dead end hole-in-the-wall strip joints, and doing the opening act for circus freaks!
And THIS is the thanks he gets from Tony? He MADE Tony what he is today. Without Andy, Tony would have died a slow torturous death in the bowels of the Nevada desert. So how does Tony thank him? He CLAIMS that he doesn't even know Kaufman! He CLAIMS that he has made it on his own! What a joke!
He's been riding Kaufman's coattails for long enough!
Just wanted to get that off my shoulders. If you fans want to go see Tony, it's probably a good idea. He ain't gonna be around much longer. But just remember who got Tony into the position he's in today. It sure as Hell wasn't Tony!!!
Glad to hear he's takin' care of himself. He must be down to two quarts of whiskey, 3 packs of butts, and 3 or 4 pounds of animal flesh a day. But, hey, ANY improvement is a positive thing!
Ol Tone already sent out his invite to me to San Diego. I cant wait. I last saw Tony in AZ about a month ago at the London Bridge Resort. He was absolutely fantastic. Holly, will see you there this Halloween. Looks like Ol Tone may need a bodyguard for his chickie-babies. See ya in San Diego Holly.
Welcome to the thought of the week! Before we proceed with the thought, which is brought to us this week by our good friend R. Buckminster fuller, I would like to interject a personal note.
There are many of you, MOST of you, in fact, to whom I owe at least one email, and/or at least one phone call. I feel so badly for not having an opportunity to respond with a personal email or call...I know it sounds cliched to say it, but I genuinely ~am~ feeling large amounts of guilt over not being able to keep up with my internet obligations.
A few things have happened in my "real" life recently, including a series of dental appointments, a couple of necessary trips up to LA, and the obtaining of my first gig scoring a film, that have necessitated me spending less time than ever on the net - I forsee some days in the near future where I won't be able to log on at all.
So please, everyone, bear with me, and know that I am thinking of each and every one of you personally, and I will catch up on my correspondence when life settles down just a little. Dank you veddy much in advance for your understanding.
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This TOW is about "identity" or "system integrity". What ARE we, andyway? What IS this thing we call "reality"? (A question with which Kaufmanites are long-familiar!)
Bucky has us envision it this way:
Imagine a length of cotton rope. After a few yards, a piece of manilla rope is "spliced" onto the end of the cotton rope. After a few yards of the manilla rope, a length of nylon rope is "spliced" onto the end of the manilla rope.
Now, I will make the simplest knot I know...three hundred sixty degrees in each direction, like the first part of tying a shoelace, before the "bow" part. Not too tight, just loose and hanging there on the rope. An interesting side note: the rope did not do this to itself; ~I~ have done this to the rope, but in andy event...
I slide the loose knot along the length of cotton rope. It slides, and slides, and...*NOW* it's on the manilla rope! So, I keep sliding it along, and after a few feet of manilla rope...*NOW* it's on the nylon rope!
I keep sliding, and...*NOW* it slips off the rope entirely! It has gone...somewhere else.
Now, the KNOT itself was not cotton, or manilla, or nylon, although each of those things was helpful and useful in determining the "identity" or "system integrity" of the knot. The knot was it's own integrity.
Another example:
Throw a rock into water...the ripples go out.
Throw a rock into milk, scotch, kerosene, and the ripples go out.
The ripples are not the liquid, but the system integrity that is REPRESENTED by the liquid.
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Bucky said, "I was overweight, and I recently lost seventy pounds. Who was that? It wasn't ME, I'm still here!"
Who, indeed?
That would be the topic for this week's thought: who are we, if not the "rope" or "water" that represents our system integrity?
Hope we get some good e-bate out of this one!
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Again, my friends, I apologize for not being more available in the recent past, and forseeably being EVEN MORE unavailable in the near future...and I will do my best to devote as much time to my internet/online activities as I can! Thank you for understanding!!!
And have a MAGICAL week!
All roads lead to Rome/Roam
All roads lead to Lenny
All roads lead to Hix
All roads lead to Andy
All roads lead to Other Roads
All roads are a Mobius
Ut! Trvth Is Universal!
Solidarity Through Andy!
Solidarity Through Diversity!
I think our identity is something that we WEAR, like a suit of armour, to protect us-to keep us safe from the hostile environment that we've been thrown into. But it is not the 'me'. Nor is my body. I can change or replace my identity (or my body) and the original 'me' remains. It is immutable.
The good news is that the results of getting what I longed for bring loving. The