Christiern

Isn't his original nose in the Phil Schaap collection?

Indeed, Arnaldur Indriðasonur is also my countryman. I'm a twofer.

After far too many years, I am revisiting my countryman's wonderful stories, and doing so in Danish as well as English. The translations are decent, but the original is more rewarding. One is never too old to be enriched by Andersen's work.

"Not the same thing as mass murdering scum as Pete alluded." — GoodSpeak Scum, nevertheless. The Paterno family's knee-jerk denial brings to mind the lyrics of an old song: "The music stopped, but we went on dancing...." Either melt down or auction off the damn statue and give the proceeds to a cause that helps the victims of pedophilia.

This is the Shorpy link you want. It covers it all and several photos are added every day.

That's a very misleading heading. Shorpy has great photos with amazing details, but it very rarely has anything that is of specific jazz interest. I have linked to the site since I started my blog, around 2009, so I love it, but not for jazz.

Oh no. Not that. Guys have to like the Stooges. It's right there in the guy by-laws. The only question is Curly or Shemp? One of the reasons I'm with the gal I've been with for the last 15 years is that when I first met her, she told me she had every Stooge short ever made on VHS. I knew right then, she was the one for me. Chris, were you a W.C. Fields or a Marx Brothers fan? Those two acts are at the top of my list. How about Seinfeld? Just curious. I was and still am a fan of W.C. Fields, the Marx Brothers, and Seinfeld. BTW, I have also worked with and around some people whose comedy I appreciated, including Kenneth Williams, Severn Darden, and Marty Feldman (when he was a comedy writer), and Taylot Meade.

You don't think Cosby is funny. Not even sometimes? Not nearly often enough to warrant all the attention he received. Someone mentioned Jerry Lewis—there's a guy whose humor totally escapes me. Ditto the Stooges, BTW.

I guess I have only seen Sandlers unfunny movies. "Comedians" who so obviously think of themselves as hilarious, usually aren't. To me, Sandler is right down there with Cosby and Chase.

It is said that the elusive Buddy Bolden wax cylinder ended up in Phil Schaap's ears—he tried to listen too closely. He never got to hear what was on that cylinder—so I am told—but he hasn't been hearing much of anything since the cylinder dissolved. That, according to informed sources, is what has led to Phil's complete rewrite of jazz history. Was I Bixin'? Correct me if you suspect that I'm wrong.

Now that JSngry has given us back this thread, I would like to add that there is one thing to be said for Bixed Bios: They inspire corrective measures. I nominate Phil Schaap for King of Bix!

I have 3 or 4 like that—I think anyone who has been in the business for a few years ends up with a few filled, scribbly address book tucked away.

Here is a very cool Moscow wedding that took place last February.

I think it is very important to know who is totally straight. I am compiling a short list.

Whatever good things he had done in the past, I can tell you that Pomus was not a very nice man when I first met him, around 1972-3. In fact, he was rather nasty and dishonest, making money on young wannabes while pretending to help them. He drove around in a van that was custom-built to accommodate his physical handicap, which—I thought at the time—might have been a factor in his mean disposition.

A friend of mine, Sam Theard, called me one day and told me that he had hit the numbers. It wasn't a fortune, but enough to make him decide to try his luck in Hollywood. Sam was a veteran stand-up comedian who made some records (not comedy) in his younger days. He also wrote Let the Good Times Roll and I'll be Glad When You're Dead, You Rascal You, so he did have some royalty money coming in. To get to the point, Sam hadn't been in Hollywood long when he landed a guest spot on his old friend, Red Foxx's show, playing—if I recall correctly—Sanford's long lost brother. When I visited Sam out there, he was living in an apartment house many of whose tenants were from the old black vaudeville era—they had a helluva barbecue party that week. Sam told me that they had these things regularly, and a few months later he wrote to give me his new address, the apartment building had accidentally been barbecued.

I know that he has me on his "ignore" list (which is good), so I can speak freely (i.e. without inspiring 10 to 12 YouTube links ) when I strongly suggest that nobody tell Jim that the Mac, and Apple in general, has no more devoted friend than Herbie.. I understood why Herbie at one point diluted his music, but I was curious to find out if he had a problem living with it. A piece I wrote for Stereo Review dealt with this and led to us sitting down for a discussion. That became an article that is buried somewhere in my piles of SR, but I will try to dig it up. Let me just say that his explanation had something to do with people leaving his club gigs looking confused. He concluded that his unadulterated music was giving them too much to think about—that it somehow troubled them. So, rather than attempt to give them an appreciation for that which the rest of us dug so much, Herbie brought his music down to their level. It was a little bit like putting something on a scale: the lower the music went, the more his income rose. That lst sentence is my own analogy.

Jim, I think we all know how to Google YouTube and search Dick Clark. That said, Some of Clark's darker side is beginning t emerge. Saw one of those silly entertainment programs reveal bits and pieces of truth, but the video clips were followed by a hare-brained hostess trying to balance it with the usual hype.

I have to use Adobe Photoshop, but I hate that company. For one thing, they bought and killed FreeHand, to protect their Adobe Illustrator, which is vastly inferior, but also because I keep seeing an Adobe icon pop ul from my dock, telling me to update. There is no update. They did give us Postscript fonts, however.

Trumpeter Virgil Jones passed away in Indianapolis yesterday. He was born in 1939 and participated on many fine recordings. He spent many years playing in Broadway pit bands.

I'd multiply aloc's eye-roll by a thousand but the software won't let me. Nice to see you're consistent in your bitter angry bile, Chris. Whatever the circumstances of his initial takeover of what became American Bandstand, no one can possibly deny that Clark was an extremely smart and successful businessman on top of his exceptional broadcast skills. Must be killing you Chris that no one thought to interview you as a counterpoint to all the "fawning". (Now watch as Chris comes back with some reference to Saddam's WMD. Its as predictable as the bile that erupts when someone he doesn't care for is lionized in death.) Gould needs to start taking his anti-G capsules. At least, I think gullibility is curable—maybe not!

The four master I sold Bates (regrettably) first came out on Fontana, which had better pressings than BL.

He was in many ways an opportunistic fraud. Daddy was on the Board at WFIL when the show's host was accused of groping one of the teenagers (never proven) and Clark took over a show. It is sickening to hear these news media people fawn.

Sorry to hear that. Not a great photo, but this was Teddy Charles in December of 2009, at Ira Gitler's 80th birthday party. THat's Bruce Lundvall with the white beard.

I remember Diplom Radio very well. I used to hang out there with Haandstad, I painted the mural on the back room wall, and designed their record catalog. I also loved a second hand record shop in Copenhagen called Concerno, which Dan Morgenstern also frequented in the post WWII years. And Pete C., I also remember going to Sam Goody's when Harry Lim, Timme Rosenkrantz and Jeff Atterton all worked there, and I have fond memories of Dobell's Record Shop. I went there once wearing a shirt Lil Armstrong has tailored for me—Johnny, a guy who worked for Doug almost fainted and offered me quite a sum for the shirt. I didn't sell it, but I gave it to the National Jazz Museum in Harlem a couple of months ago. In London and I used to pop into the HMV store on Oxford Street. Remember when one selected the records and took them into a listening booth? MP3s just don't have that certain something, do they?