TUESDAY, June 22, 2010

Archaeologists excavating in Germany recently unearthed what they believe is the world’s oldest wind instrument, a wooden flute estimated to be 35,000 years old.  It even has its owner’s name carved on it -- Kenny Og.

The National Pork Board is seeking a catchier, more memorable replacement for their long-time PR slogan “Pork -- the Other White Meat.“  Leading the competition so far:  “Pork -- Ever Try to Stuff an Apple into a Turkey’s Mouth?”

Evidence has surfaced that convicted Ponzi Schemer Bernie Madoff may have as much as $9 billion of his embezzled funds stashed away somewhere.  Bernie didn’t tell anybody officially but he let it slip during pillow talk with his new wife, Derek.

Starting next year, golfers who rank among the top 20 in tournament wins will be required by the PGA to play a minimum number of televised tournaments per season.  With a few exceptions.  For instance, a paternity suit that leads on “Extra!” is worth two televised tournaments.

A recent study of sexually active high school students indicates that the rhythm method is gradually becoming their preferred mode of birth control.  Who would have dreamed that the “Vatican Mambo” would ever catch on in the Bible Belt?
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Excerpted From THE LAUGH MAKERS  

To be sure, unforeseen problems bedeviled every show to some degree, but by far the most ill-fated special Hope produced on my watch was taped at the Oscars Theater in Stockholm before Sweden’s King Carl Gustav and Queen
Sylvia in February, 1986.  Billed as a Command Performance, Hope had agreed to emcee the black-tie gala entitled “Bob Hope’s Royal Command Performance from Sweden,” the proceeds of which were to go to the king’s favorite charity, the Children’s International Summer Village.  Hope would host the show and in return would own the American rights which he’d license to NBC. It was a potentially profitable deal since most of the production expenses would be picked up by the Swedish government.

But even before the Scandinavian Airlines 747 had been loaded with our luggage at LAX, the hex kicked in. As fellow writer Gene Perret and I sat in the executive lounge putting the finishing touches on a Viking sketch we were confident would have the Swedes in hysterics from Goteborg to Lapland, producers Elliott Kozak and Dick Arlett came in and hit us between the eyes with the news that Sweden’s Prime Minister, Olaf Palme, had just been assassinated while walking his dog on a Stockholm street.

The room fell silent. Glen Campbell, who had been sitting across from us noodling a few licks, put down his guitar and stared ahead blankly. Only moments before, we had entered the lounge filled with excited anticipation of what promised to be a fun-filled and interesting journey to a land few of us had visited.  Two other troubadours who would appear on the show, Shirley Jones and Emanuel Lewis, looked on in shock as transatlantic phone calls were hurriedly made to decide if the show would be canceled. Our departure was pushed ahead an hour while we all sat biting our collective show
business fingernails. 

Shortly, word arrived directly from the palace — since preparations for the gala were set and invitations sent out, postponing the performance, ruled the monarch, would cause world-class headaches all around. The show, as they say, must go on. Where this old saw originated, I have no idea, but there are instances where it flies in the face of common sense, and this was, undoubtedly, one of them. Picture, if you will, taping the Colgate Comedy Hour just three days following the death of John Kennedy.  Same problem — similar reaction. The entire Swedish nation had been plunged into mourning. On our drive from the airport, we could see people lining the street, carrying candles and placing bouquets of flowers at the spot on the frozen sidewalk where the popular prime minister had fallen.

A pall hung over the capital — literally and figuratively.  Ships in the harbor stood at anchor, rigid and icebound — prisoners of a climate that almost half the year chills the bones and, one suspects, is no small contributor to the highest suicide rate in all of Scandinavia.  But forget all that. The assembled glitterati applauded dutifully as the king and queen were escorted to the royal box. The show began with a rambling, largely incomprehensible introduction of Hope by Swedish actress Liv Ullman. It was obvious that she would have preferred being somewhere else, and who wouldn’t?  Hope did his best to deliver his monologue, but had about as much luck getting laughs as an athiest at a Southern Baptist Convention.

The evening’s slate of performers — Boy George and the Culture Club, Omar Sharif , Dolf Lundgren and Scott Grimes as well as Glen, Emanuel and Shirley — carried on like the pros they are, but the project was doomed from the start. It was like watching the lounge act on the Hindenburg. It was a wake with entertainment.

Tomorrow:  The Disastrous Conclusion
    
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