"What's My Line?": Falling Hook, LINE, & Sinker

It's the perennial conversation starter that has plagued every ho-hum party from time immemorial; "If you could invite any four people (living or dead) to dinner, who would they be, and why?"  The number of guests varies from time to time, but the answers rarely stray very far from the usual dead relatives, to the pedestrian political figures, to Jesus, himself.

I would hate for my supper to be the "last supper."
(Source)

If it were up to Mr. Tiny, every one of his hypothetical dinner guests could be found in one place - a CBS studio in New York City on any given Sunday evening from 1950 to 1967.  Representing theater, publishing, journalism, and the brilliance and wit of a bygone era, the host and panel of What's My Line? would provide endless hours of sparkling dinner conversation and droll anecdotes of the most clever variety.

Guest Panelist: Groucho Marx

Mystery Challenger: Claudette Colbert

If you don't have time to watch the full episode, the premise is simple - a contestant with unusual or spectacular employment comes before celebrity panelists who take turns asking revealing questions (that can only be answered in the affirmative or negative) in hopes of discovering the contestant's true "line" of work.  Every "No" answer warrants a card being flipped by the show's emcee/moderator (and the first guest at my party), John Daly, indicating a five-dollar increase in the contestant's cash prize.  Ten "No" answers stumps the panel and the contestant walks away with fifty dollars; please refrain from judging the measly prize by Who Wants to be a Millionaire? standards.

The panel tries to guess the profession of a Nudist Camp Operator

By far, the best (and my most favorite) segment of the show is when the panel, comprised of the remainder of my dinner companions, Arlene Francis, Dorothy Kilgallen, Bennet Cerf, and a special guest panelist (there's always room at my table for one more, especially when that "plus one" is Steve Allen) must blindfold themselves to hide the easily-recognizable face of the "Mystery Challenger," whose identity they must uncover by the same process of yes-or-no questioning.  It is without much debate that the award for best mystery challenger goes to that incomparable little-dynamo, Debbie Reynolds.

Mystery Challenger: Debbie Reynolds

Mystery Challenger: Salvador Dali

Mystery Challenger: Maureen O'Hara
Because it's Maureen O'Hara!!!

Mystery Challengers: Lucille Ball & Desi Arnaz

I have always had a love affair with the small screen, particularly comedies, but I am not sure that a scripted show has ever made me laugh as hard and as consistently as What's My Line?.  I love the decorous protocol - the gracious introductions, the gallantry of the men standing for every guest while the women remain seated, the supreme lack of vulgarity.  I love the oft-decorated blindfolds and the ladylike primping in which the women engage every time the blindfolds are removed.  I love the glamour with which they perform such a silly task - finding out what people do for a living/figuring out which celebrity has come to town to plug a film/book/television show.  All the while, the show maintains a candor and brightness that makes it absolutely hysterical.  Despite the lighthearted nature of the program, there was plenty of backstage intrigue (see: Dorothy's entire life, Arlene's eye patch/arm sling/accidental death settlement, etc.).  They didn't save it all for "real life," however, there were plenty of wacky tacky moments on camera as well.

Dorothy was "sneezing"....right...

If you haven't seen much of What's My Line? before, I encourage you to do so with fair warning; it is easy to lose much of your life getting lost in the champagne cocktail of witty discourse and scintillating celebrity.  I admit to having committed countless, and entirely irretrievable, hours to this very conceit.

Now that's my kind of dinner party!
Arlene, Bennet, Dorothy, and John
(Source)

But let's be honest, if I was limited to only one dinner guest,
the only spot at my table would be reserved for the inimitable
Arlene Francis.  It is all about Arlene!!!
(Source)

Aside from inviting The Man Upstairs, I have become aware that I could not have chosen a more intimidating roster of dinner guests.  For those so well accustomed to the niceties and refinements of cafe society, I'm afraid that they would find my Pineapple Upside Down Meatloaf a trifle "provincial," shall we say.  And dang it all if I wasn't going to serve a provincial trifle for the dessert course!!!  Now is the time when I realize that my neuroses are so severe that I am willing to launch into a full-blown panic attack over are my theoretical dinner party.

I guess that this is the point in our show when it must be asked, if you were the host/ess of your dream dinner party, with whom would you choose to share your best meatloaf and/or casserole?  Also, what is your favorite of all the classic game shows?  Let us know!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Waking The Dead: Tea With The Duke

Southern California is a land of many wonders.  But, being a mere adolescent in terms of relative development with the rest of the world, we are bereft of the trappings our elders, namely the beautifully-manicured public parks so often found in big cities and European capitals.  Playgrounds (really awesome ones like La Laguna de San Gabriel Playground) abound in our suburban sprawl, but nothing in our neck of the woods provides the order and tranquility of traditional parks except, of course, a good old-fashioned graveyard.

Every once in awhile we like to explore a local cemetery in search of peace, pretty mausoleums, elaborate headstones, funny epitaphs, and even a celebrity or two.  Nestled above the beach in Corona del Mar, CA is Pacific View Memorial Park.  Sweeping vistas of the Pacific Ocean promise a peaceful rest for all of the residents there.  My grandparents claimed their little stake of Pacific View nearly 30 years ago and I would be lying if I said that I didn't think the chief reason for the their pick of plots had nothing to do with their propinquity to that of one Mr. Marion Robert Morrison - better known to you and me as John Wayne! 

A humble arrangement of silk flowers honors his memory.

Growing up in the area, I always knew that John Wayne was interred at Pacific View, but I had never really looked for his gravesite.  Knowing that both of my grandfathers were/are huge John Wayne fans (my paternal grandfather had a crudely-executed portrait of The Duke that know takes pride of place in the living room of my brother and his wife), I felt it only proper that we go and pay our respects to The Duke. I looked at the time when we entered the cemetery and realized that it was just about tea time; this was our first time having tea with nobility!

I thought, "Find a penny (or quarter), pick it up, and then all day you'll have good luck," but Mary told me it was bad form to remove the quarter form the headstone.  I am familiar with the Jewish tradition of placing small stones on the grave, but I had never seen the same done with small change.  You learn something new everyday.

We had a vague idea of where his plot was but instead of disrespecting the deceased by tramping all over, I looked up "directions to John Wayne's grave."  I followed the first link that came up and expected a plot number but was surprised to find what read like a treasure map.  For instructions on how to find the grave go here.  After taking thirteen paces past hangman's tree, we found the grave site and said "Howdy" to The Duke. Naturally, my grandfathers were fans of the westerns, but my favorite entries into the Wayne filmography are The Quiet Man and his unforgettable story arc on "I Love Lucy," and "The Lucy Show."

I was actually very surprised that Wayne's grave marker is so unassuming.  There are plenty of marble mausoleums and ostentatious gravestones, but his subtle stone marks a plot on a sunny slope facing the ocean among all the regular folks.  We only had a short time to visit Pacific View, but we managed to see a few things that day that made us smile.

"Got coffee Lord - then beam me up"
Nearly 102 years old when she moved on to that giant percolator in the sky and Lucille's sense of humor thrived.

Just like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland -
a grim reminder that "There's always room for one more..."

The Quiet Man (1952)

If you've never seen this film, do yourself a favor and watch it.  

John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara at the height of their powers!!!

Pacific View Memorial Park
3500 Pacific View Dr
Corona del Mar, CA 92625

www.pacificviewmemorial.com


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

wacky tacky Icons: Al Hirschfeld

Al Hirschfeld
June 21, 1903 - January 20, 2003

When I was young I wanted to be rich and famous.  Rich because, well, who doesn't want a few extra scheckels to rub together?  Famous because I wanted my portrait done by Al Hirschfeld.  I really thought, and continue to think, that being immortalized by "The Line King" is the height of celebrity.  With a few deft strokes of his pen or brush, Hirschfeld was able to fully capture not only the stars' looks, but their personalities, their mannerisms, their foibles, and their charms.

Marilyn Monroe

Groucho Marx

Lucille Ball & Robert Preston from Mame

Bing Crosby

Betty Hutton

Carol Channing

Diane Keaton & Woody Allen from Annie Hall

Lena Horne

Bob Hope

"Apollo Chorine"

Rex Harrison & Julie Andrews from My Fair Lady

Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly

Sammy Davis, Jr.

Yul Brynner as the King of Siam

The Beatles

Born in St. Louis, Hirschfeld did all of the things that a budding artist in the 1920's should do including the obligatory stint in Paris.   Back in the U.S., he found work as a cartoonist for The New York Times and quickly made a name for himself as America's premier caricaturist.  Because his career spanned eight decades and included political figures, society luminaries, and stars of music, stage, and screen, his work came to define the medium in the 20th Century. His style was so unique and spare that a Hirschfeld caricature is identifiable at first sight.  The quality and impact of his artistry are astounding; with a minimum of line and shape he created master works.  His influence was so profound that many modern cartoonists, illustrators, caricaturists, and animators cite his work as inspiration for their own work.  In fact, the "Rhapsody in Blue" animated sequence from Walt Disney's Fantasia 2000 is an homage to the genius of Al Hirschfeld.

"Rhapsody in Blue"

Fantasia 2000

As the great Line King has moved on to his great reward, it seems highly improbable that I will have my portrait made any time soon.  In his absence I do feel a modicum of relief, only because if the day had ever come when the master caricaturist and illustrator did find me a worthy subject, the internal conflict would be huge; with the thrill of achievement would come the overwhelming, petrifying terror.  On which of my many "flaws" would Hirschfeld choose to focus - exaggerate even - to create my caricature?  Would it be my big ears?  My crooked teeth?  My chubby cheeks?  My funny nose? My oversized form? All of the above?  Even still, I would risk it.  In reviewing his work, I can't imagine that any of the stars could feel anything but flattered. 

The Line King , himself

At this point in my life, I am satisfied being neither rich nor famous.  In fact, I'm quite content with my magic combination of poverty and anonymity, but what I wouldn't give to have Al Hirschfeld draw my picture.

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny