After a brutal bidding war... I got the Ocean City 1600 from E-bay. I beat out some other obsessive miser, no doubt. He countered my original $1.75 with a stiff $2.25. After which I broke him with a surgical, $2.75. So the shipping is twice the cost of the reel. That's okay. Ten bucks is a reasonable penalty for losing an Ocean City. That's the way I look at it. Evidently no one wants this reel but me and some dude in Kaibab Arizona--where there has never been a pond containing more than 19 gallons of water--let alone a fish. Actually, I may buy some more Ocean Cities, learn how to repair them and set up a shop. I can call "C. Jebson" in Kaibab and see if he's game. Although I half think he's a little kid--if the "99" on his e-mail address indicates his date of birth. Anyway, who else tries to win an auction with a $2.25 bid? (other than me I mean). Repair shop or no repair shop, I think I'm going to start collecting Ocean Cities... Jeez, look at these old reels and tell me they aren't things of profound beauty.
Installment #1
And Now, in collaboration with MFN Productions, The Monkeyface News is proud to introduce our first weekly installment by artist in residence, Mark "Finesmell" Feinthel (no he doesn't actually live here, I just call him that). Mark and I have been collaborating for quite a few years now. In addition to illustrating the print edition of the MFN, he has also provided artwork for the Armchair Geographers, and cover art for Rube Waddell's seminal album: Stink Bait. His multi-panel illustrations of Mack The Knife and Mawson's Will have been a key element of Rube Waddell's live performances for many years. Anyway... Mark will be providing a four panel comic strip every Friday, from here on in. Here's the first...
Bidding Wars
No more fishing related writing today... Sorry, not feeling up to it... get back to me tomorrow--or maybe the next day... or perhaps the day after that. I'm night smelt dipping Friday (if anyone wants to tag along) and will document this year's first dip, with my all-volunteer camera crew (otherwise known as my left hand).
The Producer
The dust has settled. It was very strange what those two videos did to my viewership. Yikes. Thousands of hits. Woo hoo. Lots of "You gotta do more videos, man," type e-mails. All I can say is: who the hell are these people and how in the name of Tlaloc do they get my e-mail address?
One thing is clear. Most people would rather watch than read. This is a slight problem for me as, you may have noticed, I tend to be a tad... verbose.
A hem.
That is why I continually try to hone down and condense my thoughts into haiku--the least Lombardian (in the Broadway sense) of all poetic forms. We Lombards, are, as a people, more iambic than haikuic and more Merrick than either. David Merrick that is...
Florence Henderson, David Merrick and Carol Channing
(Okay that was a phonetic stretch... but its done and I am not going back)..... In mentioning David Merrick I am of course alluding to the fact that I come from a Broadway family. Oh right, I tend to forget that people like David Merrick (namely, New York show biz personalities) are virtually unknown to my current social group consisting, as it does, of toothless pogey fishermen, mad kayakers, herring aficiondados, Taiwanese city college students, marine biologists, the occasional and greatly welcome Dane, starving underground hipster puppeteers, under appreciated ureter-challenged geniuses, and the odd baseball fan. But David Merrick is a name any cultivated and red blooded American should have tatooed over his heart. David Merrick was a Broadway producer. But to say that is like saying that Jesus (if he had actually existed) was just some guy. Look, even if you desperately hate America, the American Musical Comedy (sorry but to hate one is to hate the other), and anything involving what many mistakenly see as the crass materialism and vapidity of musical comedy production, a quick perusal of David Merrick's resume... forget the resume... here's just his Tonies and Drama Desks:
Wait... I'm not quite ready for the colon (and not quite sure I like the way that sounds).
I remember a story someone told me about David Merrick. And really this was all I ever knew about him for years. This and the fact that my parents used his name repeatedly--and even, I think, as a lyric in one of the songs they wrote for their aptly titled Musical Comedy: "Musical Comedy." (Really, what else could it be named?)
Okay the story someone told me about David Merrick was that he had this stinker show, Subways Are For Sleeping that was opening after 6 somnambulant weeks in Cleveland. The show was destined to flop. Merrick knew this and figured he'd have to come up with some kind of gimmick to keep the show open long enough to make back some money on it. So he gets this plan. He busts out a phonebook and he starts feverishly looking up names. He's sitting in a room with a friend of his, Gower Champion or somebody. Gower says, "David, who are you looking for?"
Merrick continues rifling through the pages. "I'm looking for Walter Kerr," he says.
"I've got news for you David," says Gower Champion, "you aren't going to find Walter Kerr in a Brooklyn phone book."
Merrick pauses, looks the younger man in the eye. "Wanna bet?" he says.
Merrick then proceeds to look up not only Walter Kerr, but every other person in the book who happens to have the same name as a famous New York theater critic. Having then located dozens of these potential understudies, he selects only the most--shall we say--maleable. These he plies with food and drink, sexy dates, door to door limousine service and front row seats to opening night of his miserable play.
Ethel Merman, David Merrick and Anna Maria Alberghetti
By the time the curtain goes up these simple pedestrians have been treated to the greatest night of their lives. When the curtain falls after the dismal final act, Merrick suddenly appears in the empty seats behind his hand picked "theater critics."
"How'd you like the show?" Asks the kindly benefactor who treated these grateful plebians to such a grand evening.
"It was the best show I've ever seen," said Walter Kerr, of Bensonhurst.
"It was absolutely stupendous," said Robert Coleman, of Bedford Stuyvesant
"I'm speechless... what a night to remember!" said Howard Taubman, of Canarsie.
The rest, of course, is history.
The next day, David Merrick took out a full page ad in the The New York Herrald Tribune and printed the following:
"7 out of 7 are raving about Subways Are For Sleeping:"
Walter Kerr says: "It was the best show I've ever seen,"
Robert Coleman says: "It was absolutely stupendous."
Howard Taubman says: "I'm speechless... what a night to remember!"
etc...
(See bottom of this page for the original ad)
The plan worked to a tee. Although the reviews couldn't keep the show from eventually closing, Subways Are For Sleeping had a six month run that never would have happened without Merrick's ballsy scheme.
Oh and by the way... I don't really care if I got the details right or wrong. If you really need the "correct" versions of things you shouldn't be here anyway. Fish tales folks. That's what we do here at the Monkeyface News, capiche?
Okay now I'm ready for the colon:
David Merrick's Awards and nominations
- 1986 Tony Award for Best Reproduction (Loot, nominee)
- 1986 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Revival (Loot, nominee)
- 1981 Tony Award for Best Musical (42nd Street, winner)
- 1981 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Musical (42nd Street, nominee)
- 1976 Tony Award for Best Play (Travesties, winner)
- 1976 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Revival (Very Good Eddie, nominee)
- 1975 Tony Award for Best Musical (Mack & Mabel, nominee)
- 1973 Tony Award for Best Musical (Sugar, nominee)
- 1972 Tony Award for Best Play (Vivat! Vivat Regina!, nominee)
- 1971 Tony Award for Best Play (The Philanthropist, nominee)
- 1970 Tony Award for Best Play (Child's Play, nominee)
- 1969 Tony Award for Best Musical (Promises, Promises, nominee)
- 1968 Tony Award for Best Musical (How Now, Dow Jones, nominee)
- 1968 Tony Award for Best Musical (The Happy Time, nominee)
- 1968 Tony Award for Best Play (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, winner)
- 1968 Tony Award for Best Producer of a Play (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead,winner)
- 1968 Special Tony Award (winner)
- 1967 Tony Award for Best Musical (I Do! I Do!, nominee)
- 1966 Tony Award for Best Play (Marat/Sade, winner)
- 1966 Tony Award for Best Play (Philadelphia, Here I Come!, nominee)
- 1966 Tony Award for Best Play (Inadmissible Evidence, nominee)
| - 1965 Tony Award for Best Musical (Oh, What a Lovely War!, nominee)
- 1965 Tony Award for Best Producer of a Musical (The Roar of the Greasepaint - The Smell of the Crowd, nominee)
- 1964 Tony Award for Best Musical (Hello, Dolly!, winner)
- 1964 Tony Award for Best Play (Luther, winner)
- 1964 Tony Award for Best Producer (Musical) (Hello, Dolly!, winner)
- 1963 Tony Award for Best Musical (Stop the World - I Want to Get Off, nominee)
- 1963 Tony Award for Best Musical (Oliver!, nominee)
- 1963 Tony Award for Best Producer of a Musical (Oliver!, nominee)
- 1962 Tony Award for Best Musical (Carnival, nominee)
- 1962 Tony Award for Best Producer of a Musical (Carnival, nominee)
- 1962 Tony Award for Best Producer of a Play (Ross, nominee)
- 1961 Tony Award for Best Musical (Irma La Douce, nominee)
- 1961 Tony Award for Best Musical (Do Re Mi, nominee)
- 1961 Tony Award for Best Play (Becket, winner)
- 1961 Special Tony Award (winner)
- 1960 Tony Award for Best Musical (Take Me Along, nominee)
- 1959 Tony Award for Best Musical (La Plume de Ma Tante, nominee)
- 1959 Tony Award for Best Play (Epitaph for George Dillon, nominee)
- 1958 Tony Award for Best Musical (Jamaica, nominee)
- 1958 Tony Award for Best Play (Look Back in Anger, nominee)
- 1958 Tony Award for Best Play (Romanoff and Juliet, nominee)
|
It's a bit overwhelming... I mean I haven't even caught as many fish as this guy had Tony nominations... Anyway... time to crash... gettin' tired...
From deep deep in the heart that wondrous land of vintage fishing reels, cartoonists in residence, and musical comedy men, this is Lombard Of The Intertidal, signing out.
PS: I found the original Herald Tribune ad for Subways Are For Sleeping. And although I got the quotes wrong, at least I was in the ball park... anyway here it is: