Morning Midway: Ringling 's at the Garden; David Letterman's Son is Not

David Letterman, at a desk bit last night, raised the subject of Ringling Bros. being at Madison Square Garden. A friend had talked up the circus and encouraged Letterman to take his son, Harry. So Dave approached little Harry, telling him he could get two tickets and the two could go. So, how about it, Harry?

"Absolutely not," replied the talk show's son.

Ouch!

Don't know what that was all about. End of bit with Harry's retort. Maybe it's just a David Letterman thing.

From the reliably circus-affirmative New York Times, comes another boffo review, this one from the sharper pen of Ken Jaworowski, calling the show "the best the troupe has turned out in years." but issuing extreme dissatisfaction with the excessive merchandising and ridiculously high costs.

I could find only one other review, in the New York Post -- vaguely good though rather short and somewhat inconclusive.

I see the Big Show's New York date is only 11 days. Remember when it visited the Garden for five and six weeks, sometimes turning 'em away?

Maybe Harry Letterman is onto something. That's right, sadly I concede, our circuses seem not to be drawing nearly as many customers as once they did. Even if they are getting better. I'm looking forward to this Funundrum.

Creative Currents Under a Great War ... South Pacific to Victory At Sea

I am so enthralled, in love really, with the Broadway revival of South Pacific (it's brilliantly inspired score remains my favorite), that I've seen it twice in NY and will again if I'm back there before it closes. And I've been moved to finally get a library copy of the book upon which the show is based, James A. Michener's novel Tales of the South Pacific. What a rich and rewarding work, the prose and realistic detail close in purity to Hemingway. I am waiting to reach the two or three stories used by Oscar Hammerstein II and Josh Logan in their Pulitzer prize winning adaptation of the book. Already, however, Nellie Forbush has entered (to me, I forever see Mary Martin), but in a story about an affair she has with an officer -- ill fated (she finally forces the issue, and yes, he is married) -- before she meets up with the Frenchman. What a great writer was Michener. I wonder how much courage it took him to mercilessly blast PT boats as being hopelessly useless? That is a new notion to me. He also narrates safe boring pockets of military life that can drive a soldier to beg for a transfer into real action. To me, this gives his account that much more depth and believability.

Victory at Sea is the other compelling source through which I have on many occasions connected with a war that commenced when I was in a crib hearing the sounds of the Big Dipper roller coaster across the street, the pacific ocean just to the west. This TV documentary, interestingly, it comes to mind, as I write this, also bears the music of Richard Rodgers. And what a tour-de-force that is. It's the blunt black and white footage, the terse narrator's voice, and the simple short-sentence prose combined with music to die for that makes Victory such an astounding achievement, in my opinion trumping all other TV Documentaries that have since come our way.

Thank you, James Michener. And Thank you, Rodgers and Hammerstein and Logan.

Next stop: I am going to read John Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday. Drawn to a fresh challenge, Rodgers and Hammerstein, striking a more daring though all-too-tempered frame, based their 1955 flop Pipe Dream on the book's characters and themes. Critics complained of a Sunday school approach to hinting at rather than depicting a house of ill repute, and of the central character's participation in it insufficiently defined. So I want to see how this story element is handled in the novel. The show contains a marvelous score, and the characters at least seem to convey Steinbeck's sympathetic and humorous view of that particular world as reflected in another of his remarkable works which I have read, Tortilla Flat.

Slapdash Sunday: Showbizery Leftovers, I think ... Well, They're Free! ...

Where do we start. How about Ella in the background, under the L'Amyx tea tent in Oaktown, as the locals call the place.

Country & Western, like opera, it never got me. But oh, what a soft lyrical high: A sweet Japanese singer crooning "Country Road," as to infuse this classic with Great American songbook cache. So perfect on a mellow morning. And where should I be going, if anywhere. I was thinking, why not a Best of TV Commercials DVD? Or is there already one. That Geico character, the Pizza Whisperer, the gosh-oh-my! Progressive Insurance gal. AND, did you see the spaghetti lady getting whipped in her face by a thin noodle on the tip of her proper fork lashing out against it?!!!!!HaHaHa!!! I'd love seeing all of these amusing characters together in the same shoot, kind of a trade-talk chat, stars in their own right. BTW: Can TV get any creepier than the way those drugs ads are followed by nerve-wracking warnings: CONSULT YOUR DOCTOR IF, UPON INJECTION, YOU FEEL DEATH KNOCKING ON YOUR DOOR.


Here's to Betty White, about to appear in yet a new sitcom. I love this lady. Remember her in the 1950s. She reached sit-com heaven in The Golden Girls. All five of those women held their own, so did, in a similar way, all four of the I Love Lucy principals. I know Lucy was central, but all three others were absolutely spot-on before "spot on" meant anything to anybody, tweet tweet!

Showbiz David Sounds Off -- That's ME in a big headline at the top of page A3 in the Baraboo News Republic, sent to me by Baraboo's dapper man for all seasons, Bob Dewel, in this instance twirling his columnist's pen over my Circus World Museum posting. The size of my name in print makes it a rare first for me. Maybe there's something to be said for big fish/small pond. I always preferred the other option, and have yet to conquer either. Tickles me, it does ... And while we're in Ringlingville, Sir Bob reports that two retired profs are handling the library archives. Nice to know somebody's minding the stacks ...

So what's all the 3D fuss about? May I tell you, World, Been There Done That, back in the early fifties, when upon entering the movie house, you'd be handed a flimsy cardboard thing to wear in front of your eyeballs, sit back for the special effects -- monsters and weapons shooting off the screen right into your face! ... Short lived then, and I'm predicting short lived now. Gimmicks. Give me a break, Obsolete Electronics On Demand; Didn't they just foist Blue Ray onto the consumer, Hi-Def before that, and already Blue Ray is looking older and quainter by the minute as talk turns to 3D. Does anybody still own old black and white Zenith? ...

Missing Jay at 10 PM. Was nice to have his opening jokes, sometimes boffo. Have switched back and forth in record mode between Jay and David, and have said farewell to both. Neither show ever made me a regular convert, nor will 3D get me back. Paul Shaffer in 3D?

Back to Baraboo, for a moment of bijou envy: The thought of the epic silent film Metropolis lensing at the Al Ringling Theatre, with a live orchestra no less, nearly gives me goosebumps. Does this little town know how lucky it is? They can thank one of the Ringling Brothers. Those guys were so far reaching in their day. Even pitched a "black tent" on the midway around 1897 to show a fascinating new entertainment invention called "motion pictures" ... If there is to be another Barnum, might that be, say, Donald Trump? Gotta say, watching him recently on Letterman, he does impress ...

Here we are, and you're still waiting for a main course. So am I. Bits and Pieces. That kind of a day. Have a cup of Genmaicha (promise, it doesn't produce side effects). And may you find better amusement inside the other tents. However, should you experience strange flashes or sudden bouts of dizzy spells, including but not limited to diarrhea, vomiting, headaches and stomach pains, gout or arthritis or nausea, do consult your doctor at once ...

Bye.

The Morning Midway: A Big Top Giant Who Might Have Been ...

Circus owners, remarkable considering all of the struggles they face, are remarkably enduring. Most of them.

Here was one who showed such great promise -- Sid Kellner, seen here in this 1969 newspaper photo with his son George, 15, when the Kellner name spelled the promise of a great success ahead. Today, while purging my "archives" (I hate clutter), I came across this picture. Such a radiant reminder of how a dream can seem so real in the beginning.

At the time, I had just finished handling "national press representative " duties for the show on its 10-week summer tour, driving a Ford Bronco (oh, what I did when I was young) from west to left coasts and back. Only job I ever had that got me one of those little business cards. I stayed in the cheapest hotels, never giving out cheap hotel phone numbers to city and feature editors at newspapers along the route.

Near the end of the tour, I pushed Sid on the idea of going out on rails in 1970. This fantasy made it into the pages of Amusement Business, and tickled Sid, though I doubt he ever gave my grand idea much attention.

By then, Kellner had been out on the road for thirteen years, most of them mediocre at best. I remember him playing the Grace Pavilion at the Sonoma County Fairgrounds in Santa Rosa and, after the show, with Don Marcks being friendly and supportive. Distinctly I recall Sid taking down a popcorn machine off a table to load it into a truck. Such youthful magic animated his smile and gait that night.

By 1968, he produce a cracking good show, rousingly scored, under the old Mills Bros. top which he'd just acquired. The performance rocked. Tom Parkinson loved it. I loved it. I think everybody loved it.

The next year, after I wrote a celebratory article about this up and coming Sid Kellner for The White Tops, Mr. Kellner warmed up to me, and I got the press agent's job that Eddie Howe had handled during the high-water 1968 tour. The compensation I was offered felt almost flatting: $250.00 a week plus use of Kellner's Bronco; I would pay for gas, hotel and food.

Now, James Bros. was back in buildings. Show was at least fair, but the magic of that sparkling 1968 performance was gone. Blame it in part the absence of the tent.

My best publicity coup, looking back over my notes, was getting major exposure in Philadelphia. ABC outlet WFIL-TV, on a Wed. at 8:00 AM. My memo sent ahead to company manager Chester Cable specified "One Baby Sue, the Woodcocks and Harry Ross or another clown." I played this one up: "This show has the highest ratings in this time period. All kids in Philly watch it. It tops Captain Kangaroo! [well, that's what somebody told me.] Miss Bresset wants a baby elephant, so let's get her one -- Baby Sue, the star!" Truth be told, I can't remember Baby Sue. I only remember my favorite, Baby Opal.

Kellner Kellnered on, a man of dynamic charm who could turn sour and vulgar on a coin, casting profanity from one end of the tent to the other. And in the presence of sponsors.

What did him in? The boiler rooms he operated so ruthlessly well. I am not even sure if he is still with us. His sons George and Matt went on to disgrace themselves in phone rooms practicing skills learned from their father.

Still, I have such fond memories of sitting across Kellner's exciting desk when he was considering me for the job, and of feeling his impressive entrepreneurial power. Both he and I merged personal dreams that would go no where.

The Morning Midway: Al Ringling Theatre Jumps with C&W, Magic, and a Capra Silent

It may be musty. May be a little creaky and cranky (that photo is very flattering), but oh what an atmospheric journey back to the long-lost. This last weekend, Baraboo's Al Ringling Theatre, five years away from its centennial anniversary, hosted three nights of disparate entertainment, something maybe for everyone:

Friday: Country singer Dayna Manlow's band from Chicago

Saturday: Illusionist Tristan Crist

Sunday: The 1926 Frank Capra directed silent film The Strong Man, with a live original score supplied by Donnie Rankin at the mighty Barton Theatre Organ. Also on the bill were animated movie shorts and "a little vaudeville."

Tickets for these events ranged from $5 to $10.

Stage also hosts plays and musicals. How many towns this size have their own movie palace? Enter with a kind forbearance for strange kerosene odors. And, by all means, come in top hat and cape if you wish. But be advised: no valet parking for horse drawn carriages.

The Morning Midway: Even Sarasota's Ringling Museum Faces Big Funding Cutbacks, Uncertain Future ...

It's not all peaches, Picasso and popcorn at the John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art, the upscale Sarasota venue which also hosts, like it or not, the ever-expanding Ringling Museum of the Circus.

Fiscal woes are adding up, despite the place attracting a rather impressive 300,000 people a year. That breaks down to an average of over 800 patrons per day. I wonder how many of those ticket buyers went there to see the Ringlings rather than the Rubens? The museum has 10,000 members, and it has grown in stature among art circles.

State of Florida, said to provide roughly half the museum's $13.5 million budget, making waves about pulling out. The estate, willed to Florida by circus king John Ringling, has been run since 2000 by Florida State University and funded by the state. Big money has flowed its way. In 2002 through the University, $49 million for expansion alone. But now cutbacks are being considered. How to spend less and draw more people? FSU is facing its own 25% budget cut. In August, Museum director John Weternhall resigned, said to have grown "weary of the political wrangling."

Pardon me for giggling in retrospect. Sounds like the ghosts of old Ringling family circus wars still haunt the place. They could be dramatically revived were any of the art work acquired by Mr. Circus put up for sale, or was a single square foot of the grounds sold off. Were this to happen, as stipulated in Mr. Ringling's will, everything would revert to his heirs. Now, wouldn't that make for some extraordinary Kelly-Miller Circus funding?

All of this from a lengthy fact-packed story in The New York Times by Geraldine Fabrikant, which only once in passing, and in only four words, mentions the circus museum.

So far, even with a 20% budget cut, nobody's been laid off.

Doc Film Giant Michael Moore Deserves Profound Thanks for "Sicko" -- Helped Legitimize Health Care Debate ...

"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness..."

"The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health" -- Franklin Delano Roosevelt, State of the Union Address, January 11, 1944.

Because I believe in many of the fundamental goals of the health care bill that is on the verge of passing tonight (I am well covered myself), and without turning this into a speech, I reflect on the searing movie put out by documentary showman Michael Moore, Sicko and consider with deep appreciation its critical impact on the debate among Americans in recent years concerning universal health care coverage. Moore's riveting film opened my eyes, as I am sure it did many others, to a different view of the countries with free health care for all that are regularly belittled by Americans too selfish to care about the well being of their uninsured fellow citizens.

I have a friend who just incurred, courtesy of a government program called medicare, a $23,000 bill for two nights in the hospital. Why not health care for all, I asked her? "Because I am against a government run program," she answered. Anyway, she said, everybody can get health care. Where, I wondered? "They can go to the county hospital."

Michael Moore deserves the highest humanitarian award (why not a Nobel?) for his challenging films, for his singular genius both as entertainer and muckraker unafraid to take on corrupt American ways and institutions. Sure, he does not always cover the other side, and you know what? I don't care like I used to. Sometimes the evidence for the prosecution is just too overwhelmingly great. Critic Moore casts attention with the flair of a great showman on the underbelly of a culture that is sinking into the quicksand of an utter economic collapse born of predatory greed.

Last night I watched Capitalism: A Love Story, and was surprised to find it up to Moore's probing standards. Seems that it came and went with little acclaim or attention.

Moore should take lasting satisfaction in his travels with a camera around the world interviewing people in civilized countries generally content with the health care coverage they could expect for free. It certainly helped explode and elevate a simplistic pro-America status quo argument into a more constructive and all-embracing direction.