Well, dear readers, Miss Susan Gordon and her lovely mother Flora and I all went up to Image Entertainment, where we did a commentary track for Bert I. Gordon's (father and ex-husband, respectively) Beginning of the End. We had lots of fun and mother and daughter had lots of good stories to tell about working with Bert. We not only talked about Beginning of the End, we talked about many of Bert's films, including my favorites, Attack of the Puppet People (in which Susan made her screen debut as a brownie with doll problems) and The Amazing Colossal Man. One interesting thing that was revealed about the giant grasshopper stars of Beginning of the End was that they were not really giants, they were just real grasshoppers cleverly manipulated to look like giants. Another interesting thing is that the grasshoppers were imported from Texas, and one of the stipulations was that they be all males, because they didn't want them to propagate in Los Angeles. Apparently, before they could leave the state, an inspector had to determine that the grasshoppers were all male. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, this gentleman's job was to check the gender of the grasshoppers to make sure they were all male. I think a better way to determine that would be to put on an Ethel Merman record and see if they all like it. In any case, male grasshoppers don't like being with each other and they fought constantly and would kill each other whilst singing Blow, Gabriel Blow, so that by the end of shooting there weren't many grasshoppers left for the climactic scene. In any case, a good time was had by all and the DVD will be out early next year.

Have any of our young dear readers thought about a career in checking the gender of grasshoppers? It sounds like it would be very challenging indeed. I, for one, don't even know how you would begin to check the gender of a grasshopper. Do they have miniature girl and boy parts? Or are their genitals peculiar to the grasshoppers? Certainly if that were the case then our genitals would be peculiar to the grasshoppers, too, and vice versa. Can we get off this subject already? Who cares about the fershluganah genitals of a grasshopper? Who wants to know from the genitals of a grassshopper? In any case, the last that was heard from any of the surviving male grasshoppers of Beginning of the End was that they were hanging out at a leather bar on Santa Monica Blvd., a pretty outre thing to do in 1957.

Okay, I only mentioned the word "leather bar" because someone searched it using our handy-dandy Unseemly Search Box. Oh, the things people search for. Why, once again, someone was up at the crack of dawn searching for something and we do hope they found what they were looking for and that it has enriched their lives in ways we can't even imagine. I love the expression "the crack of dawn" and I would love to deconstruct it in the way you know I have a penchant for, but it would simply be too unseemly.

As you know, today is our Unseemly Trivia Contest - we must have more people participate - otherwise the same people keep winning the prizes. All the questions we pose are answerable if you do a little research. While you're doing the research, by the way, can you please find out how we determine the genitals of grasshoppers? Well, let's all click on the Unseemly Button below so we can find out the question and get on with these here notes.

I had a couple of my rarer laserdiscs transferred to DVD. It's like burning a CD, you don't really lose any quality, so laser to DVD looks pretty great. Among what I transfered was Mr. Josef von Sternberg's giddily brilliant Blonde Venus, starring Miss Marlene Dietrich, Mr. Cary Grant, and the wonderful Mr. Herbert Marshall. It's one of the most perverse movies ever, and features one of the wackiest musical numbers in the history of musicals, the gloriously demented Hot Voodoo. There is simply nothing to compare with Miss Dietrich in a gorilla suit with a blonde afro. Another film I transfered is Mr. Georges Franju's masterpiece, Les Yeux Sans Visage (Eyes Without a Face), one of the most poetic of all horror films. It was made in 1959 and it stars the incandescent Edith Scob as a young lady whose face has been horribly disfigured in a car accident caused by her brilliant plastic surgeon father (Pierre Brasseur). He creates a mask for her to wear (sound like Abre los Ojos or Vanilla Sky?) and his assistant (Alida Valli) lures unsuspecting young girls (who resemble his daughter) back to their in-home labratory, where he attempts to take their faces and graft them onto his daughter. He is briefly successful, but it all goes wrong very quickly and the ending is both shattering and beautiful. I recommend this film (if you can find it) to one and all and also all and one.

I also transfered the very strange pop-art sixties film, Danger: Diabolik, a very rare laserdisc. The film was directed by the great Mario Bava and it's a good deal of fun.

Well, here's this week's trivia question:

When I was in high school I saw a musical entitled Stop the World, I Want to Get Off here in Los Angeles, at the Huntington Hartford Theater on Vine St. I loved it so much, that I went back again and again. On the road, the show starred Mr. Joel Grey and Miss Julie Newmar, who were both wonderful in it. On Broadway, of course (and in its original London production), it starred Mr. Anthony Newley and Miss Anna Quayle. Two rather interesting people were stand-bys to Mr. Newley on Broadway and Mr. Grey on the road. Mr. Newley's stand-by had already played a starring role in a classic musical, would go on to do several other musicals, and also create what would be his most well-known role, which was, ironically, not in a musical. Mr. Grey's stand-by would go on to have another connection to Mr. Grey, as well as appearing in another incredibly successful show. Name the two stand-bys. Now, I want all you Hainsies/Kimlets to make an attempt. I want you to get off your butt cheeks and play the game. Otherwise we shall make you determine the gender of one hundred grasshoppers.

Today I am going to an antique show (appropriate, since I am now an antique) in Glendale. I rarely purchase things at these shows, but I do love being a looky-loo. I do hope that everyone who is attendance will notice my dazzlingly white teeth and I also hope that they know how to determine the gender of grasshoppers.

Today's topic of discussion: Continuing down composer/lyricist lane (I loved your Bacharach and David responses, and we'll do some more pop composers soon), what are your favorite Irving Berlin songs (I have learned that it's impossible to just list one song, so we aren't even bothering with that anymore)? I'll start: Of course, the entire score to Annie Get Your Gun, one of the glories of the musical theater (especially Doin' What Comes Naturally and I Got Lost In His Arms), Blue Skies, the divine Let Me Sing and I'm Happy, Puttin' On The Ritz, Isn't this a Lovely Day (to be caught in the rain), Cheek to Cheek, White Christmas and Count Your Blessings. I'm also quite partial to several songs on my Unsung Irving Berlin album. I was one of the first people who was ever allowed the honor of going through Mr. Berlin's trunk and some of the things I found there were fairly astonishing. My favorites were It's a Lovely Day For A Walk (great number) the beautiful Nothing More To Lose and the kicky If You Haven't Got an Ear for Music. Also, I adored discovering Take It In Your Stride (cut from Annie Get Your Gun), which I used on the first Lost In Boston album. Your turn.