WA2K Radio is now on the air

Oh, my, hebba. Now I'm really smiling. I had almost forgotten Girl in a Swing. Love it, buddy.

Here's one that will frighten no one.

Would you like to swing on a star
Carry moonbeams home in a jar
And be better off than you are
Or would you rather be a mule

A mule is an animal with long funny ears
He kicks up at anything he hears
His back is brawny - and his brain is weak
Hes just plain stupid with a - stubborn streak

And by the way, if you hate to go to school
You may grow up to be a mule

Would you like to swing on a star
Carry moonbeams home in a jar
And be better off than you are
Or would you rather be a pig

A pig is an animal with dirt on his face
His shoes are a terrible disgrace
He aint got no manners when he eats his food
Hes fat and lazy - and extremely rude

But if you dont care a feather or a fig
You may grow up to be a pig

Would you like to swing on a star
Carry moonbeams home in a jar
And be better off than you are
Or would you rather be a fish

A fish wont do anything but swim in a brook
He cant write his name or read a book
And to fool the people is his only thought
Though he slippery - he still gets caught
But then if that sort of life is what you wish
You may grow up to be a fish

And all the monkeys arent in a zoo
Every day you meet quite a few
So you see its all up to you
You can be better than you are
You could be swinging on a star

good evening listeners !
it's dark now - just a few lights in the backyards , but it was a nice sunny day - though it was cool , just a tad abave freezing - but we still went for a little walk by lake ontario .
picked up a stack of videos at the library on the way home including :
RAMBLIN' JACK ELLIOTT .
one of his songs is woody guthrie's TALKING DUSTBOWL BLUES :



from wiki :


SIGNING OFF - IT'S MOVIETIME
hbg

Well there's a leak in this old building
Yes, there's a leak in this old building
Well there's a leak in this old building
We're gonna move to a better home

We got no pane in this old window'
We got no pane in this old window'
We got no pane in this old window'
We're gonna move to a better home

Well there's a hole in the roof where the rain pours in
A hole in the floor where it drops right out again
Well there's a leak in this old building
Well there's a leak in this old building
Well there's a leak in this old building
We're gonna move to a better home

Well there's a crack across the ceiling
Yes there's a crack across the ceiling
Well there's a crack across the ceiling
We're gonna find us a better home

We've gotta stove without a chimney
We've gotta stove without a chimney
What good's a stove without a chimney
We're gonna move to a better home

Pulling down window shades is no use at all
The kids and the neighbor can peep right through the wall
Well there's a leak in this old building
Well there's a leak in this old building
Well there's a leak in this old building
We're gonna move to a better, move to a better
Move to a better home

Elvis

hbg, love your song, buddy, and speaking of cowboys.

This is a ballad, folks, so it's a little long, but it is great.

Marty Robbins

Out in the west Texas town of El Paso,
I fell in love with a Mexican girl.
Nighttime would find me in Rose's cantina,
Music would play and Falina would whirl.

Blacker than night were the eyes of Falina,
Wicked and evil while casting the spell.
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden,
I was in love but in vain I could tell.

One night a wild young cowboy came in,
Wild as the West Texas wind.
Dashing and daring and drink he was sharing,
With wicked Falina, the girl that I love.

So, in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden,
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore.
My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat,
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor.

Just for a moment I stood there in silence,
Shocked by the foul, evil deed I had done.
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there,
I had but one chance and that was to run.

Out through the back door of Rose's I ran,
Out where the horses were tied.
I caught a good one, it looked like it could run.
Up on its back and away I did ride.

Just as fast as I could from the west Texas town of El Paso,
Out to the badlands of New Mexico.
Back in El Paso, my life would be worthless,
Everything's gone in life, nothing is left.

It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden,
My love is stronger than my fear of death.
I saddeled up and away I did go,
Riding alone in the dark.

Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me,
Tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my heart.
And at last here I am on the hill overlooking El Paso,
I can see Rosa's cantina below.

My love is strong and it pushes me onward,
Down off the hill to Falina I go.
Off to my right, I see five mounted cowboys,
Off to my left ride a dozen or more.

Shouting and shooting, I can't let them catch me,
I have to make it to Rose's back door.
Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel,
A deep burning pain in my side.

Though I am trying to stay in the saddle,
I'm getting weary, unable to ride.
But my love for Falina is strong and I rise where I've fallen,
Though I am weary, I cant stop to rest.

I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle,
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest.
From out of nowhere, Falina has found me,
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side.

Cradeled by true love in arms that I'll die for,
One little kiss and Falina goodbye.

Oops, folks, missed our edgar's song. Maybe the subject of Elvis' song would prefer it here.

From the mountain ranges, heavenly pretty, are coming down
A pair of black eyes, heavenly pretty, that are being smuggled

Ay, ay, ay, ay sing and don't cry

because singing will make happy, heavenly pretty, the hearts

An arrow in the air, heavenly pretty, Cupid threw

In the playing, heavenly pretty, has hurt me

From your house to mine, heavenly pretty, there's only one step

Now that we're alone, heavenly pretty, give me a hug

Ay, ay, ay, ay sing and don't cry

because singing will make happy, heavenly pretty, the hearts

Much lovlier in Spanish, folks.

De las sierras morenas, Cielito Lindo, vienen bajando
Un par de ojitos negros, Cielito lindo, de contrabando

Ay, ay, ay, ay canta y no llores

Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito Lindo, los corazones

Una flecha en el aire, Cielito Lindo, tiró Cupido

Él la tiró jugando, Cielito Lindo y a mí me ha herido.

De tu casa a la mía, Cielito Lindo, solo hay un paso

Ahora que estamos solos, Cielito lindo, dame un abrazo

Ay, ay, ay, ay canta y no llores

Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito Lindo, los corazones

letty :
in the late winter of 1979 mrs h and i spend six weeks in texas - mostly austin , where i was attenting a training course .
after we returned , i found out that MARTY ROBBINS had become one of her favourite singers :wink:
so i bought her a 2-lp set - we still have it : MARTY ROBBINS - 20 GOLDEN MEMORIES .
often when i returned from the office i would be greeted by MARTY warbling

hbg, you just touched a nerve. I didn't know that Marty did that one, but I sure know that Hank Williams wrote it and sang it. That man was a born victim, but a beautiful writer. Thanks for the reminder of those haunting lyrics.

Hey, let's do something funny, ok?

Here's a parody on Hank Snow's "Monin' On" by Homer and Jethro. Elvis once observed that he knew he had arrived if that duo did a parody on one of his songs.

MOVING ON 2

The old hound dog was feelin' fine
Till he fell in a barrel of turpentine
He's A-Movin' On, He's A-Movin' On
He passed the gate, like an eight-eight, He's A-Movin' On.

There was a smart guy from the city
And he picked up a stripe'd kitty
He's A-Movin' On, He's A-Movin' On
We held our nose, as we burried his clothes, We're A-Movin' On.

I let a man work on my car
Then he grabbed a-hold of a spark plug wire
He's A-Movin' On, He's A-Movin' On
He turned it loose, when he felt the juice, He's A-Movin' On.

The old Tom cat was a-feelin' mean
When he caught his tail in the sewin' machine
He's A-Movin' On, He's A-Movin' On
He ripped a stitch, when he hit the ditch, He's A-Movin' On.

The old man's face got white as a sheet
When he slipped and fell in his cream of wheat
He's A-Movin' On, He's A-Movin' On
He flapped his ears, as he shifted gears, He's A-Movin' On.

Uncle John got awful clean
When he fell into the washing machine
He's A-Movin' On,He's A-Movin' On
He couldn't straddle, that doggone paddle, He's A-Movin' On.

We travel a lot to make our showin'
The way we sing we have to keep goin'
We're A-Movin' On, We're A-Movin' On
We've gotta go, here comes Hank Snow, We're A-Movin' On.

YES , letty , it certainly was hank williams song , but marty did a fine job singing it (i have it on authority from mrs h ) .
take care !
hbg

Bob Dylan said he regretted recording this song, because of the unflattering portrait it makes of his onetime girlfriend' family.

Ballad in Plain D

I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze.
With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn.
I courted her proudly but now she is gone,
Gone as the season she's taken.

Through young summer's youth, I stole her away
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day,
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.

Of the two sisters, I loved the young.
With sensitive instincts, she was the creative one.
The constant scapegoat, she was easily undone
By the jealousy of others around her.

For her parasite sister, I had no respect,
Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect.
Countless visions of the other she'd reflect
As a crutch for her scenes and her society.

Myself, for what I did, I cannot be excused,
The changes I was going through can't even be used,
For the lies that I told her in hopes not to lose
The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime.

With unknown consciousness, I possessed in my grip
A magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped,
Noticing not that I'd already slipped
Into the sin of love's false security.

From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace,
Answers of emptiness, voiced vacancies,
Till the tombstones of damage read me no questions but, "Please,
What's wrong? What's exactly the matter?"

And so it did happen like it could have been foreseen,
The timeless explosion of fantasy's dream.
At the peak of the night, the king and the queen
Tumbled all down into pieces.

The tragic figure, her sister did shout,
"Leave her alone, God damn you, get out!"
And I in my armor, turning about
And nailing her in the ruins of her pettiness.

Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground.
And she in between, the victim of sound,
Soon shattered as a child to the shadows.

All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight.
I gagged in contradiction, tears blinding my sight.
My mind it was mangled, I ran into the night
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me.

The wind knocks my window, the room it is wet.
The words to say I'm sorry, I haven't found yet.
I think of her often and hope whoever she's met
Will be fully aware of how precious she is.

Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously,
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"

Good morning, WA2K audience

edgar, that is one haunting song by Dylan. We're not sorry that he wrote it, Texas, but we can understand his misgivings.

Folks, today is Veteran's Day in the U.S. and we would like to honor our soldiers regardless of how we feel about war in general.

One of my favorites, listeners.

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

And then, folks, their is this view.

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

-- Randall Jarrell

Current Version:
Stand, Navy, out to sea, Fight our battle cry;
We'll never change our course, So vicious foe
steer shy-y-y-y.
Roll out the TNT, Anchors Aweigh.
Sail on to victory
And sink their bones to Davy Jones, hooray!

Anchors Aweigh, my boys, Anchors Aweigh.
Farewell to college joys, we sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay.
Through our last night on shore, drink to the foam,
Until we meet once more,
Here's wishing you a happy voyage home.

Original Version
Stand Navy down the field, sails set to the sky.
We'll never change our course, so Army you steer shy-y-y-y.
Roll up the score, Navy, Anchors Aweigh.
Sail Navy down the field and sink the Army, sink the Army Grey.

Get underway, Navy, decks cleared for the fray,
We'll hoist true Navy Blue o Army down your Grey-y-y-y.
Full speed ahead, Navy; Army heave to,
Furl Black and Grey and Gold and hoist the Navy, hoist the Navy
Blue

Blue of the Seven Seas; gold of God's great sun
Let these our colors be till all of time be done-n-n-ne,
By Severn shore we learn Navy's stern call:
Faith, courage, service true, with honor over, honor over all.

The Gunners Dream -- Pink Floyd
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfRJdDh2RsE

Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
But in the space between the heavens
and the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Good-bye Max.
Good-bye Ma.
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.

A place to stay
"Oi! A real one ..."
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.

Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of the dream.
Take heed.

Pat O'Brien
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Pat O'Brien (November 11, 1899 - October 15, 1983) was an American movie actor with over 100 screen credits. O'Brien was born William Joseph Patrick O'Brien to an Irish American Catholic family in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.[1] He served as an alter boy at Gesu Church while growing up near 13th & Clybourn streets. O'Brien attended Marquette Academy with fellow actor Spencer Tracy, and later attended Marquette University. Reportedly he also served with Jack Benny at Great Lakes Naval Station during World War I.

O'Brien appeared with James Cagney in eight movies including Angels with Dirty Faces (1938) and Cagney's last film Ragtime (1981). He began appearing in movies (many times playing Irish cops or priests) in the 1930s, starting with the role of ace reporter Hildy Johnson in the original version of The Front Page in 1931. He memorably appeared in the highly successful 1946 suspense film, Crack-Up and played the lead in The Personality Kid (1934). He may be best remembered for his role as a police detective opposite George Raft in Some Like It Hot (1959) and the title role as a football coach in Knute Rockne, All American (1940), where he gave the speech to "win just one for the Gipper," referring to recently deceased football player George Gipp, portrayed in the film by a young Ronald Reagan (the origin of countless later references to President Reagan as "the Gipper"). O'Brien's movie career more or less ended in the early 1950s when he was apparently partially blacklisted but could continue to get work in television; O'Brien later claimed to be completely flummoxed about this in his autobiography The Wind At My Back. His close friend Spencer Tracy had to fight the studio to get a small role for O'Brien in Tracy's film The Last Hurrah in 1958.

O'Brien died from a heart attack at the age of 84.

F. Van Wyck Mason
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Francis Van Wyck Mason (November 11, 1901 - August 28, 1978, Bermuda) was an American historian and novelist. He had a long and prolific career as a writer spanning 50 years and including 65 published novels.





Life

Mason was born to a patrician Boston family which traced its roots on the North American continent back to the 17th Century. His early life before he started writing was filled with adventure. His first eight years he lived in Berlin and then Paris where his grandfather served as U.S. Consul General. After a few years in Illinois he left for Europe in 1917 while still a teenager to fight in World War I. Like many future writers, he was an ambulance driver for a while. He then managed to enlist in the French Army where he became a decorated artillery officer. By the end of the war he had worked his way into the U.S. Army, rising to the rank of Lieutenant. After the war he went to prep school before attending Harvard where he received his Bachelor of Science (SB) in 1924. At one time in his student days, he was mistakenly arrested for murder. Having borrowed a dinner jacket, he was wrongly identified for a waiter who at the time had committed a murder.

His hopes of entering the diplomatic corps were thwarted after the death of his father and he started an importing business instead. He spent the next few years traveling the world buying rugs and antiques before getting married and settling down. His travels were extensive and included Europe, Russia,the Near East, North Africa (9 weeks with own caravan), the West Indies, Central Africa, and a ride across Central America on horseback. He lived in New York City and was in a famous Cavalry division of the National Guard and played quite a bit of polo. This set the tone for him as he continued to travel and indulge his interest in hunting the rest of his life.

By 1927 he was getting ready to settle down and get married when a chance meeting with one of his college professors, John Gallishaw, encouraged him to take a stab at writing. He took Gallishaw's course in short fiction on the condition that he pay for the course out of future sales.[1] He married socialite Dorothy L. MacReady in New York City in November of that year and by May 1928 he had his first story published. He enjoyed immediate success selling to the pulp magazines and sold 18 stories before his first rejection. The magazines paid well at that time and he was soon able to build a comfortable home outside of Baltimore, Maryland. In 1930 he published his first book The Seeds of Murder which introduced Captain Hugh North, a detective in Army Intelligence and the hero in a long series of "intrigue" novels.

By 1931 he had settled into a career as an author of books as well as short fiction, publishing two more Captain North novels and his first historical novel, Captain Nemesis, which was republished from an earlier pulp serial. The historical novel apparently did not sell well because he went back to the mystery/intrigue books, publishing a dozen or so over then next 7 years. He developed his Hugh North character, who was Mason's alter ego, in these books. North was a prototype for James Bond in that he was a smooth, capable spy, as well as quite a lady killer. This series of books also seemed to predict actual military events before they took place, including a sneak attack on Pearl Harbor.

Mason was still selling historical stories for the pulps during this period and in 1938 returned to the genre for a major novel, Three Harbours, about the early phases of the American Revolution. By this time Mason was doing very well indeed as he was able to split his time between Nantucket, Bermuda, and Maryland. When delivering the manuscript from Nantucket, he was caught in the middle of the New England Hurricane of 1938 and had many close calls which may have ended his career right there.[2] Fortunately the manuscript was a long one and he was able to use it as a defense against flying debris.[3] He made it to New York and the book turned out to be very popular and changed his focus to historical fiction for the rest of his career, though he would continue to write Hugh North stories until 1968.

He wrote two more companion books to Three Harbours, Stars on the Sea and Rivers of Glory, as well as three more Hugh North mysteries in the years leading up to World War II. These books all did very well, especially Stars on the Sea which was a top 10 bestseller for 1940, and Mason was in his prime before the war interrupted his writing for a time. He reenlisted at the beginning of the war and suspended his writing career though he did manage to write some youth oriented war stories during the war under the name Frank W. Mason as well as publishing a couple of reworked pulp serials under the name Ward Weaver. During World War II he worked as Chief Historian serving on General Eisenhower's staff. His main responsibility was to document the war for future generations but he did lend a hand to write the famous communiqués which announced the activities of D-Day to the world. As part of his duties he followed behind or with advancing troops as they worked their way into enemy territory and was one of the first into some of the concentration camps including Buchenwald.

After the war he settled into a more leisurely pace of a little more than one book per year, which he was to maintain for the next quarter century. His style was well refined by this time and he was able to publish a string of fairly popular books. He finished his American Revolution series with Eagle in the Sky in 1948, wrote a popular novel about the famous buccaneer, Henry Morgan called Cutlass Empire in 1949, and started a trilogy on the Civil War in 1951.

He rewrote more of his pulps for the paperback market during the fifties and had a successful youth book called The Winter at Valley Forge in 1955. He would continue to write historical novels for the youth market after that as part of his mix. He also moved to Bermuda from the Baltimore area during the '50s. His wife was ill during this period and finally died in 1958.

He was soon remarried to Jean-Louise Hand, his long-time secretary. He spent the rest of his life in Bermuda, writing historical fiction for both the adult and youth market as well as several more Hugh North novels. He drowned off the coast of Bermuda in 1978 after having finished his final novel, Armored Giants, about the battle between the Monitor and Merrimack, which was published posthumously in 1980.

Writing Style

Mason's writing style was colorful though straightforward. He seems to use his own voice in telling these stories in the third person, though he only lets a little of his personality come through as narrator. His stories usually revolve around a heroic gentleman character. This hero is usually a little rough around the edges and may be forced to extreme measures by circumstances, but in the end, comes out on top. Based on his own life which involved extensive travel, his stories are usually either set in exotic locations, as in the Hugh North stories, or involve main characters who are getting about quite a bit. His historical stories nearly always involve some kind of warfare and frequently include naval battles. While one may learn a little history and geography when reading his works, the main point of his stories is the excitement provided as he first makes the reader care about his main characters and then puts them into dire circumstances where they have to fight for their lives.

Thanks, edgar and Tico.

Tico, I am not familiar with your song, but the lyrics are truly moving, Kansas.

Just spoke with my friend from Virginia Beach. Believe it or not, he was a marvelous vocalist but has some problem with his RNA. He is a WWII vet.

Love this one, and it represents the buddy poppy. I have heard varying opinions, but I think it was written in honor of the buddy system that was so supportive for those kids in the fox holes. Fred sang it.


My Buddy

Life is a book that we study.
Some of it's leaves bring a sigh.
There it was written, my Buddy,
That we must part, you and I.

Nights are long since you went away.
I think about you all through the day,
My buddy, my buddy,
Nobody quite so true.

Miss your voice, the touch of your hand
Just long to know that you understand,
My buddy, my buddy,
Your buddy misses you.

Miss your voice, the touch of your hand
Just long to know that you understand,
My buddy, my buddy,
Your buddy misses you.

Your buddy misses you...

Howard Fast
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Howard Melvin Fast (November 11, 1914 New York City - March 12, 2003 Old Greenwich, Connecticut) was a Jewish American novelist and television writer, who wrote also under the pen names E. V. Cunningham and Walter Ericson.




Biography

Early life

His mother, Ida (née Miller), was a British Jewish immigrant and his father, Barney Howard Fast, the son of Ukrainian Jewish immigrants. When his mother died in 1923 and his father became unemployed, Howard's youngest brother, Julius, went to live with relatives, while Howard and his older brother Jerome worked by selling newspapers. He credited his early voracious reading to his part-time job in the New York Public Library.

Young Howard began writing at an early age. While hitchhiking and riding railroads around the country to find odd jobs, he wrote. His first novel, Two Valleys, was published when he was 18, in 1933. His first popular work was Citizen Tom Paine, a fictional account of the life of Thomas Paine. Always interested in American history, he also wrote The Last Frontier, about an attempt by Cheyennes to return to their native land; and Freedom Road, about the lives of former slaves during Reconstruction.


Career

Fast spent World War II working with the United States Office of War Information, writing for Voice of America. But he had joined the Communist Party USA in 1944, and was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee. He refused to disclose the names of contributors to a fund for a home for orphans of American veterans of the Spanish Civil War (one of the contributors was Eleanor Roosevelt), and he was imprisoned for three months in 1950 for contempt of Congress.

It was while he was in jail that Fast began writing his most famous work, Spartacus, a novel about an uprising among Roman slaves. Blacklisted for his Communist activities and his criminal record, Fast was forced to publish the novel by his own Blue Heron Press. Unable to publish under his own name, he used various pseudonyms, including E.V. Cunningham, under which he published a series of popular detective novels starring a Nisei detective with the Beverly Hills, California Police Department.

In 1952, Fast ran for Congress on the American Labor Party ticket. During the 1950s he also worked for the Communist Party newspaper, the Daily Worker. In 1953, he was awarded the Stalin Peace Prize. But, later in the decade, Fast broke with the Party over issues of conditions in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe.

Shortly afterward, Fast wrote April Morning, an account of the Battle of Lexington and Concord from the perspective of a fictional teenager. While not originally intended as a "young adult" novel, it has become a frequent assignment in American secondary schools and is probably thus his most popular work in the early 21st century. A film version was made for television in 1988.

In 1974, Fast and his family moved to California, where he wrote television scripts, including such television programs as How the West Was Won. In 1977, he published The Immigrants, the first of a six-part series of novels.

He married his first wife, Bette Cohen, on June 6, 1937. Their children are Jonathan and Rachel. Bette died in 1994. In 1999 he married Mercedes O'Connor, who had already three sons.

Fast's son Jonathan Fast, himself a novelist, was the husband of novelist Erica Jong, their daughter is the novelist Molly Jong-Fast.

Stubby Kaye
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Stubby Kaye (November 11, 1918 - December 14, 1997) was an American comic actor. He was born Bernard Sholm Kotzin in New York on West 114th Street in the Morningside Heights Section of Manhattan to first generation Jewish Americans originally from Russia and Austria. He was raised in the Far Rockaway section of Queens and in the Bronx.

Kaye is best known for defining the role of Nicely-Nicely Johnson in Guys and Dolls, first on Broadway and then in the film version. He also played Marryin' Sam in Li'l Abner (which featured his signature song, "Jubilation T. Cornpone"), again on both stage and screen. In 1962 he played the Mikado in Michael Winner's The Cool Mikado. His last featured role was as Marvin Acme in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Around this time he also made a guest appearance on the British science fiction series, Doctor Who.

His first wife was Jeanne Watson from Chicago, who was a clerical worker at the movie studios in the late 50's. They were married in 1960 but due to personal differences, divorced within a year of their marriage.

His second wife, Angela Bracewell, was a former Broadway chorus girl whom he met while living in England. She was the hostess of the British version of the "Beat the Clock" (1950) game show, a segment of "Val Parnell's Sunday Night at the London Palladium" (1955). They remained wed until his passing on Dec. 14, 1997.

During the 1960s, Kaye became well known in the UK as host of a weekly children's talent show, Stubby's Silver Star Show. During the 1962-63 TV season he was a regular on Stump the Stars. From 1964 - 1965 he hosted the Saturday-morning children's game show Shenanigans on ABC. He loved living in the UK and often referred to himself as the Kosher Squire. He also appeared in the 1974 Broadway revival of Good News.

He died at age 79 on December 14, 1997 from lung cancer in Los Angeles, California and made his home in Rancho Mirage.

Jonathan Winters
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Birth name Jonathan Harshman Winters III
Born November 11, 1925 (1925-11-11) (age 82)
Bellbrook, Ohio, U.S.
Medium stand-up, film, television
Nationality American
Influenced Bill Cosby, Robin Williams, Patton Oswalt
Spouse Eileen Schauder (1948 - present) (2 children)

Jonathan Harshman Winters III (born November 11, 1925, in Bellbrook, Ohio) is an American comedian and actor. Winters is a descendent of Valentine Winters, founder of the Winters National Bank in Dayton which is now part of JPMorgan Chase.

After attending public school in Springfield, Ohio at Culver Military Academy, Jonathan enlisted in the Marines at age 17 and served in the South Pacific during World War II. After his discharge he studied cartooning at Dayton Art Institute, where he met Eileen Schauder, whom he married in 1948. He began comedy routines and acting while studying at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. He was also a local radio personality at WIZE in Springfield,Ohio.

In 1999 Winters was awarded the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor. In a 2005 interview on XM Radio, Bill Cosby called Winters "The King". Winters now lives near Santa Barbara, California, and is often seen browsing and hamming to the crowd at the antique show at the Ventura County fairgrounds. He often entertains the tellers and other workers whenever he visits his local bank to make a deposit or withdrawal. He spends time painting and has been presented in one-man shows of his art. In 1997 he published Winters' Tales: Stories and Observations for the Unusual. Other writings have followed, and he is said to be working on his autobiography.



Career

Beginning as a stand-up comic with a madcap wildness, Winters recorded many classic comedy albums. Probably the best known of his characters from this period is Maudie Frickert, the seemingly sweet old lady with the barbed tongue. He was a favorite of Jack Paar and appeared frequently on his television programs. In addition, he would often appear on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, usually in the guise of some character. Carson often did not know what Winters had planned and usually had to tease out the character's backstory through the course of the interview.

Winters has to date appeared in nearly 50 movies and several television shows, including particularly notable roles in the film It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World and in the dual roles of Henry Glenworthy and his dark, scheming brother, Rev. Wilbur Glenworthy, in the film adaptation of Evelyn Waugh's The Loved One. His fellow comedians that starred with him in "Mad World", such as Arnold Stang, claimed that, in the long periods while they waited between scenes, Winters would entertain them for hours in their trailer by becoming any character that they would suggest to him.

On television, he appeared in his own show The Wacky World of Jonathan Winters (1972-1974) and as Mork's infant son Mearth in the television program Mork & Mindy. Robin Williams calls Jonathan Winters his idol and greatest influence. Winters has also done some dramatic work, as evidenced in the Twilight Zone episode "A Game of Pool" (episode # 3.5) (13 October 1961). He recorded Ogden Nash's The Carnival of the Animals poems to Camille Saint-Saëns' classical opus. He also made an appearance on the Dean Martin Comedy Roasts.

In addition to his live action roles, he was also a guest star on The New Scooby Doo Movies as a sweet old lady who was really the villain and the narrator in Frosty Returns. Winters had also earlier appeared as himself on an episode of Scooby Doo, where the Scooby Gang was looking forward to his promised performance as Maudie Frickert.

In his "Archive of American Television Interview," Winters reported that he suffered a nervous breakdown and spent eight months in a private mental hospital. Although he was not given a diagnosis while in the hospital he was later diagnosed with manic depression (known today as Bipolar disorder).