Remembering Morgus, Jingles and Johnny Ginger

Today, for some obscure reason, I recalled Morgus. I mentioned this to Linda (the lady who shares my bed) and she has no idea who Morgus was. I tried to explain that he was a mad scientist weatherman that popped up daily on TV at 5:55 and also an M.C. on a Friday night television horror movie show. Linda was alive when Morgus was on. Sure she may have been pre-kindergarten, but she was in existence and television ready. She should have known about Morgus! (She also does not recall Johnny Ginger the Dancing Bellhop. More on that later.)

Morgus was the first horror type host in the Detroit area. He was on TV before the Ghoul or Sir Graves Ghastly. Morgus could put Rita Bell to shame, and make Bill Kennedy cry uncle. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Bill's gangster films, even when he would freeze the movie to highlight the bit part he played in crowd scenes. He was also the narrator of the 1950's Superman series. I think his biggest part was playing one of the suiters of Bette Davis as Mrs. Skeffington.

Bill and Rita had their shows on in the afternoon. So if they weren't showing Cagney or Bogey or the Bowery Boys, then I was outside playing. But Morgus was on at night, Friday night, and my parents were in bed and I was alone to enjoy his humor, and be scared by his movies. I think this was the last time in my life, that I looked forward to a movie's commercial break. Durring those breaks was when Morgus came back on and made me laugh at his experiments gone awry. Sure, his humor was juvenile, but I was only 11 or 12 years old. Juvenile humor was perfect for me.

I mentioned Johnny Ginger earlier.  He was a host of a cartoon show on Channel 7, Detroit.  He was on before I had to leave for school.  Channel 9, Windsor, also had a host for cartoons at the same time.  The Canadian host was a clown named Jingles.  Clowns were used a lot to present kid shows.  There was Jingles, Milky the Clown, Ricky the Clown, and Bozo the Clown in the Detroit area.  Jingles outfit was like a court jester's.  Milky had an all white outfit with a white dunce cap.  Ricky was in bum's clothes with a charcoal beard and a red rubber nose.  And Bozo wore...  wait. If you don't know what Bozo looks like, then you were raised in the wild by a pack of wolves. I haven't heard you baying at the moon, so I assume you know what Bozo looks like.

Anyhow, one morning during the Kennedy administration, I woke up and immediately turned on Channel 7.  In the lobby of Johnny Ginger's set was Jingles.  What kind of madcap mayhem was this?  I clicked over to Channel 9.  On the castle set of Jingles, was a flummoxed Johnny Ginger.  He was looking for Jingles and Jingles was nowhere to be found.  Back on Channel 7, Jingles was looking high and low for Johnny Ginger.  I was yelling at the television that they were on each other's channels.  But neither cartoon host paid attention to me.  Perhaps they could not trust an eight year old.

I truly believed they missed each other.  They hadn't.  It had all been planned out. In any case, it makes a great memory.

From left to right: Poopdeck Paul, Milky the Clown, Captain Jolly, Jingles the Clown, Johnny Ginger and You-Know-Who.

Surfing the Time Stream

This is the farthest into the future I have ever traveled.

(pause)

Just went a little further.

I have to figure out a way to reverse this. Don't like the way the future is treating my body. Not everyone who started this journey with me has survived. I don't want to end up as one of the casualties thrown out of the time stream. It must be horrible to be cast into a pile of discarded Double Cola bottles, 8 track tapes, coonskin caps, Nehru jackets, 45 rpm records, Lincoln logs, VCR tapes, et cetera, et cetera. The time stream continues. Not everything will make it to end. DVD's are being pushed out. They should be gone soon. Computers also stay in the time stream about as long as house flies.

The time stream also draws items and beings into itself. Babies are constantly popping in. So are cell phones. Most babies last longer than cell phones. Many babies will surf the time stream for close to a century. Some even longer. With modern medicine, millions will surf along smoothly. The time stream use to be very bumpy. Far too many were thrown out by surprise and/or earlier than expected.

On inspection of the board I use to surf the time stream, I see it is not as sturdy as I would like. But surf boards can be deceiving. You would think that alcohol soaked, tobacco stained boards would not last. My uncle has such a board. And he is still surfing, pushing ninety. Hi ho!

(Note: I stole that "hi ho" from Kurt Vonnegut Jr. He fell off his board a couple years back and is unable to complain about my thievery. His board lasted 84 years.)

Some people like to surf the wild dangerous end. Some succeed such as Robert Downy Junior. Some don't; i.e. Steve Irwin. I rode the deadly side for many a year, yet for the last twenty, I have mostly stayed in the shallow end.

If you are reading this, you are a fellow traveler. I hope your board is in good condition and may you ride it for a long time. I intend to be surfing as long as you, if not longer. So until the next time; Hang ten.

Tune In

Had to glue another key back on my keyboard. I use epoxy for reattachment. As of this writing, out of 66 keys, 10 of them are held in place by epoxy. Who would have thought Walmart sold such inferior merchandise? Have to wait until tomorrow before I can test out my repair work.

I am getting pretty good at intros. I can bang out the opening chords to "Stand By Me," "The Tracks of My Tears," "Surfer Girl," "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" and "Benny and the Jets" among others. But by the time I have mastered the beginning chords, I am bored with the song and start learning a different one. I can read music somewhat. I know what notes on the staff correlate to the keys, and I know length of the notes by their shape. My trouble is like a child who has learned the alphabet and has to sound out each word he reads. If I know the song, then reading the music is relatively easy, but if I am looking at sheet music to something which is new to me, then it takes time for me to come up with a reasonable facsimile of the song.

By the by, it is not only classic rock I torture the neighbors with. I also tickle the ivories with Berlin, Cole, Debussy and Ludwig Von. Or at least eight or ten bars of each. The latest bit of music I am currently abusing is "Stranger on the Shore" by Acker Bilk. My keyboard can imitate a clarinet if I so desire, so if you know this song then you know how I appreciate having this option.

("Acker Bilk!" Somebody was in a nasty mood when they named him.)

I will end this post with a musician anecdote. Al Capp, who drew the comic strip "Lil Abner," had lost a leg when he was a child. He wore a prosthetic. Capp would appear on talk shows in the 1960's and 70's. On one talk show, Al Capp was seated next to Frank Zappa. Zappa is the musician I referred to earlier. Capp was a rude individual and tried to insult Zappa by saying, "What's with the long hair? Do you think you're a girl?" Zappa fired right back with, "What's with the wooden leg? Do you think you're a table?"

[snare drum rat-a-tat followed by cymbal crash]

Leave It To Beaver - The Last Episode.

FADE IN

INT. 
MAYFIELD BUSINESS DISTRICT - APPLIANCE STORE  
AFTERNOON

BEAVER CLEAVER and LARRY MONDELLO are walking
down an aisle of refrigerators and freezers.

BEAVER
Why'd you wanna come in here, Larry?

LARRY
Well, its cooler in here than outside. They got air conditioning. The only other place that has air conditioning is the movies and you got to pay to go in there.

BEAVER
Wow. Thats good thinking, Larry. It must be a hundred degrees outside.

LARRY stops to look inside a freezer. Impulsively he jumps inside.

LARRY
Hey, Beav, look at me. I'm a side of beef.

LARRY tries to imitate a dead cow.
 BEAVER giggles at his friend's antics.

BEAVER
You look more like a pig than a cow...

LARRY gets a hurt look on his face.

LARRY
Gee, Beaver, you didn't have to say that. Why do you have to call me a pig?

BEAVER
I don't know, Larry. I guess its because you remind me of a pig.

The store manager, BILL ROBERTS, appears at the end of the aisle.

BILL ROBERTS
Hey, little boy, where is your mom

BEAVER slams the freezer lid shut 

and turns to face the approaching manager.

BEAVER
She's home, sir.

BILL ROBERTS
Are you here with your father?

BEAVER
No, sir, his office already has air conditioning.

BILL ROBERTS
Well this is no place to be playing. You have to go.

BILL ROBERTS takes BEAVER by the arm and walks him out the store. 

 Camera zooms in on freezer latch showing that LARRY has been locked inside.

FADE OUT

FADE IN

INT. 
MAYFIELD SUBURB - THE CLEAVER HOUSEHOLD - BEAVER AND WALLY'S ROOM
NIGHT

WALLY is laying on his bed, wearing a baseball mitt
and repeatedly tossing a ball and catching it.
 BEAVER is standing by the window and nervously looking outside.

BEAVER
Hey, Wally, can I ask you something.

WALLY
Long as it aint something stupid.

BEAVER
How am suppose to know if I'm asking something stupid?

WALLY
Well... Go ahead and ask me. If it's stupid, then I'll throw this ball at you.

BEAVER
Gee, Wally, I don't want to get clobbered by a baseball. Can't you throw a pillow instead?

WALLY
You're lucky I don't throw a brick at you. But since you're my little brother, I guess I can throw a pillow at you this time.

BEAVER
But if its not a stupid question, you won't throw anything at me, right?

WALLY
Just ask your stupid question!

BEAVER
I don't know if I should...

WALLY
If you don't hurry up and ask your question, I will throw this ball at you. I'll bean ya' right in your big stupid head.

BEAVER
Okay. Okay. I just wanted to know how long someone can breathe inside a freezer.

WALLY
Why do you want to know that?

BEAVER bursts into tears. Wally sits up to look at his brother.

BEAVER (Talking fast while crying)
I think I killed Larry. I locked him in a freezer at the appliance store. I didn't mean to do it. I just didn't want the manager to catch him so I shut the lid.

WALLY
When did you do this?

BEAVER
Last week. And Larry hasn't been to school since.

WALLY
Relax you little goofball. If Larry was dead or missing, his parents would have called or something.

BEAVER
I know. That's why I cut the phone line.

WALLY
You jerk. No wonder I wasn't getting any calls.

BEAVER
I'm sorry, Wally, please don't be mad at me. I was just scared and didn't know what to do.

WALLY
Okay. Quit your crying. If Larry's parents couldn't get through on the phone, they would just come over...

BEAVER
Mrs. Mondello did come over.

WALLY
Really? What did she say?

BEAVER
I saw her coming up the walk and ran up behind her and hit her in the head with a baseball bat.

WALLY
Oh no, Beav, not my good Louisville Slugger...

BEAVER
I wiped off most of the blood.

WALLY
If you ruined my bat...

BEAVER
I didn't, Wally, honest. I only swung it one time.

WALLY
Well, you couldn't have hit her very hard. She must have got up and went home. I didn't see her laying outside.

BEAVER
That's because I dragged her body down into our cellar.

WALLY
Dad always goes down there. He's gonna find her body for sure.

BEAVER
I thought about that, too. That's why I wired the handle of the cellar door to a wall socket.

WALLY
Come to think of it, I haven't seen Dad for a couple days. But Mom would have told us if Dad was dead.

BEAVER
I thought of that, too. I put rat poison in the coffee pot.

WALLY
Gee. I thought it was funny that Mom was sleeping at the breakfast table. She's been sleeping at the
table all week.

BEAVER
Yeah. I don't think she'll be waking up.

WALLY
You really did it this time, Beaver!

BEAVER
It's all that manager's fault. I'm gonna get him for this.

WALLY shakes his head in astonishment
while BEAVER grins and schemes

FADE OUT

ROLL CLOSING CREDITS

The Salesman of Death (as opposed to Death of the Salesman)

I hate it when I'm told to act my age. I've never been this age before, so how would I know how to act. Today I was driving with Linda as passenger. A squirrel was contemplating suicide and was about to dive under my wheels. I quickly pulled the vehicle out of its path. Linda, who did not see the death-hungry rodent, made a snide remark "Do you have to jerk when you drive?" I responded "Can't help it if I'm driving with a jerk." I never could resist a set-up line. Much to my chagrin, Linda scowled "Act your age."

I'm at an age where I'm being targeted by mortuary sales literature. Seems like these people are determined to sell a cemetery vault to me. Before the price goes up! I could save some money if I die soon. That reminds me of the old Jack Benny skit. Jack gets held up and the robber says, "Your money or your life." Jack doesn't respond. The robber says, "Well whats it gonna be?" Jack comes back with "I'm thinking! I'm thinking!"

AARP is also requesting my enrollment. In their literature, they boast of a funeral plan that can save me money. If I had been smart, I would have died years back when it was cheap. I wonder if funeral homes ever have a penny sale. You know, "Die now, and for one penny more, you can take a friend with you."

Who is the least expensive, undertakers or taxidermists? It may be cheaper to be stuffed than to be buried. (Note to self: Price taxidermy over funeral arrangement.)

Do funeral homes have lay-away plans? Thats a pun all by itself.

How can someone remain and be gone at the same time? When a person dies they say the person is gone. But wait, here's his remains. Hmm?

Several years back, a crypt solicitor had weaseled his way into our home with promises of some luxurious gift for listening to his spiel. Linda and I sat at our kitchen table with this salesman. In somber voice he presented a hypothetical situation where I was late coming home from work and the phone would ring. Linda would answer and receive the message that I had been in a car accident and she should come to the hospital. When she got to the hospital, she was placed in small waiting room and awaited word on what was going on with me. The salesman's tone took on what he imagined Linda to be thinking. "Oh please, let John be alright. Oh, what would I do without him?" At this point, I know where the story is going and I'm restraining myself from laughter. I look at Linda, and this guy has brought tears to her eyes. Needless to say, he drags the story out for several minutes before announcing that I have died, and Linda has no place to put my body. Now wouldn't it be nice to already own a crypt? he asks. Linda is a wreck, she would have given away the house in exchange for a crypt. Good thing I was there to pull the plug on this guy. No thank you, sir. Just give us our gift and get out of our house.

It took a while to get this guy out. He kept prattling on with his sales talk. He had an argument for every "No" I gave him. He must have been there for over an hour delivering a speech that was suppose to be five minutes long. At long last, he gave us our gift and left. The free gift was a form for creating a Last Will and Testament. A box of Kleenex would have been better. Linda sure could have used that. We still have the unfilled out form. The only benefit I got out of listening to this guy is this anecdote to put on my blog.

(Note to self: Find Last Will and Testament form. Perhaps in the attic.)