Singer Neil Sedaka was born on March 13, 1939. So happy 70th to him.
Sedaka blew himself up on an episode of the "Farm Film Celebrity Blow-Up" on the old variety show SCTV, during its NBC period.
For those who don't know anything about SCTV, shame on you. Go get some DVDs.
The theme of the show was that SCTV, or Second City Television, was a small struggling television station operating out of the town of Melonville. Either in some state of the midwestern US or in Canada, it was never very clear. Some of the comedy came from the backstage goings-on, much came from the "programs" as broadcast.
One recurring program was "Farm Film Celebrity Blow-Up," which would begin as a farm report, with some talk about commodity prices, then progress to movie reviews. The two hosts -- Big Jim McBob and Billy Sol Hurok -- only enjoyed movies in which something, well ... blows up.
The show would end with a segment in which a guest celebrity blows up. it was cartoon violence in live action. We'd see a series regular dressed/made-up as a celebrity, hear a loud boom, see smoke, and then sometimes see the celebrity in obvious "doll" form flying offstage. The hosts would chortle their catch phrase, "he blowed up real good."
Neil Sedaka was subjected to that treatment, with the explosion apparently keyed to go off only after he started performing a song and got his voice up to the right note.
Funny stuff. Don't take my word for it -- get the DVD. I already said that, didn't I?
Anyway, I hope the real Neil Sedaka isn't too choked up from the wonderful birthday tribute I've just given him. Dry your tears buddy, and enjoy your 70th.
Showing posts with label SCTV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SCTV. Show all posts
13 March 2009
23 August 2007
A Few Days Without Blogging
I don't anticipate making any further posts here until Wednesday, August 29. I'm certain that even my more ardent fans can hang on without me.
While I'm on an autobiographical note, let me mention also that I recently had some tissue from my back biopsied. This was the 'second round' of such biopsies. The first, in the late spring, resulted in negative lab results.
So far as we know, then, I don't have anything on my back less healthy than ugly moles. Still, the dermatologist wanted to do a second round (and, has, I fear, left open the possibility of a third round down the round) to be sure, and to bill my insurer.
I'm reminded somehow of the old SCTV character, Tommy Shanks, whose televised talks to Mellonville as Mayor also took a rambling memoirist turn. While purportedly speaking about gun control, he said, "I heard on the radio the other day that there are as many guns in North America as there are baseball cards. I couldn't help but wonder: where do they come up with facts like that?" This was the sum of his discussion of 'gun control.'
I wonder that, too, mayor. About a lot of things. But nowadays the blogosphere generates endless comparisons of everything to everything else, quicker than the poppings of the wood in your fireplace.
While I'm on an autobiographical note, let me mention also that I recently had some tissue from my back biopsied. This was the 'second round' of such biopsies. The first, in the late spring, resulted in negative lab results.
So far as we know, then, I don't have anything on my back less healthy than ugly moles. Still, the dermatologist wanted to do a second round (and, has, I fear, left open the possibility of a third round down the round) to be sure, and to bill my insurer.
I'm reminded somehow of the old SCTV character, Tommy Shanks, whose televised talks to Mellonville as Mayor also took a rambling memoirist turn. While purportedly speaking about gun control, he said, "I heard on the radio the other day that there are as many guns in North America as there are baseball cards. I couldn't help but wonder: where do they come up with facts like that?" This was the sum of his discussion of 'gun control.'
I wonder that, too, mayor. About a lot of things. But nowadays the blogosphere generates endless comparisons of everything to everything else, quicker than the poppings of the wood in your fireplace.
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