It’s already Week 4 in Inktober and the new film version of Stephen King’s It is still going strong in theaters. I, however, am partial to the schlocky ABC-TV mini-series from 1990. The always delightful Tim Curry brought Pennywise the Dancing Clown to life and, single-handedly brought back coulrophobia.
A while ago, I belonged and contributed to another illustration blog called Sugar Frosted Goodness. I had a sort-of “love-hate” relationship with the guy that ran the blog. He reprimanded me once for an illustration I did that he considered to “cross the line.” I always believed that nothing “crossed the line” as far as the message that art — any art — expresses. So, I resigned from that blog. Now, it appears, someone else owns his domain name and it is no longer an illustration blog. So, all’s well that ends well; what goes around, comes around; and fuck him.
Anyway, in 2008, I posted this illustration on that blog for the word “sugary.” The illustration and accompanying original poem garnered eleven praising comments. This week, Illustration Friday, an illustration blog to which I have contributed weekly for over ten years (without missing a week), posted the word “sugar.” I decided to do a follow-up to the story of toothy candy maker Swirly von Swirly deCocoa McDuff.
Swirly von Swirly deCocoa McDuff… revisted
Remember old Swirly von Swirly McDuff
Who concocted a kitchenfull of sugary stuff
He mixed up a whole mess of sticky-sweet snacks
Like praline pecan apple cinnamon jacks
And crunchy crunch peanutty caramel chews
Licorice whips in reds, greens, blacks and blues
Ol’ Swirly, he was quite the master of sweets
Filling his shelves with all sorts of fine treats
Renowned for his pineapple rum jelly pops
And marshmallow-y chocolate-y gumdrop-y drops
But Mr. deCocoa McDuff never heeded
Dental warnings he got, ’til his gums finally bleeded
And he lost all his teeth, his big pearly whites
So now, he’s got candy — but he no longer bites.
A one-time cartoonist, Martin Landau abandoned his artistic career to pursue acting. He worked with the great Lee Strasberg at the prestigious Actors Studio, along with his friend Steve McQueen. He met and became close friends with fellow actor James Dean.
Martin made his first major big-screen appearance alongside James Mason in Alfred Hitchcock’s thriller North by Northwest. He went on to take roles in the epics Cleopatra and The Greatest Story Ever Told, as well as Nevada Smith with pal Steve McQueen.
On television, Martin was remembered for his role as master of disguise “Rollin Hand” in the drama Mission: Impossible, where he starred with his then-wife Barbara Bain. Martin displayed great versatility with accents and mannerisms. Later, he and Bain would co-star in the syndicated sci-fi series Space: 1999.
Martin took an embarrassing role in the TV movie The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan’s Island in 1981. It seemed that he was teetering on the end of a career, but several years later, be bounced back to an Academy Award-nominated performance in Tucker: The Man and His Dream. He followed that role with another Oscar-nominated performance in Woody Allen’s Crimes and Misdemeanors. In 1994, he won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his eerily realistic portrayal of aging horror actor Bela Lugosi in Tim Burton’s biopic Ed Wood.
Martin, once again, became a highly sought-after actor and worked regularly in movies and television. He was nominated multiple times for Emmys in both comedic and dramatic roles. he also ventured into voice acting, with parts in 1994 animated Spiderman series.
Martin was hospitalized briefly in July 2017. He passed away from multiple organ failure during his stay. He was 89 years old.
Week Three of Inktober brings us the great Bette Davis in her 1962 tour-de-force as Baby Jane Hudson in the Gothic horror classic Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
“She’s livin’ in sin with a safety pin.”
Nancy Spungen came into this world with her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck and her life only got worse. As a child, she constantly cried and threw tantrums until she was out of control. She was prescribed a liquid barbiturate, but it did nothing to suppress her behavior. Despite her regular outbursts, Nancy showed “superior intelligence” in IQ testing and was enrolled in the third grade at five years old. Although she shined academically, Nancy was a troubled child, acting violently and shunning friendships.
At home, she tormented her siblings and threatened to kill a babysitter. At 11, Nancy was expelled from public school. She was enrolled in a private school far from her suburban Philadelphia home, but she ran away from the campus and attempted suicide by slitting her wrists with a scissors. At 15, Nancy was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She eventually graduated from high school and attended the University of Colorado. She was expelled, however, after eight months, for purchasing marijuana and hiding stolen property in her dorm room. After getting fired from her first job on her first day, she began to steal and deal drugs to get money.
At 17, Nancy fled to New York City, where she dealt drugs and worked as a stripper and a prostitute. Soon she left for London to join in on the blossoming punk rock scene. She tried to hook up with Sex Pistols singer Johnny Rotten, but he showed little interest in Nancy. Instead, she pursued bass player Sid Vicious.
During their whirlwind, 19-month relationship, Nancy and Sid became addicted to heroin. The couple exhibited violent public behavior, earning Nancy the nickname “Nauseating Nancy,” as she was often referred in the London press. In 1976, after the Sex Pistols disbanded, the pair moved in to New York City’s notorious Chelsea Hotel. Over the next few months, Sid and Nancy abused drugs and were involved in regular bouts of domestic violence, including a number of physical attacks by Vicious. On October 12, 1978, Nancy was found dead under the bathroom sink in Room 100 at the Chelsea. She had a single knife wound in her abdomen. Sid Vicious was charged with her murder. He was arrested, but released on bail. Vicious died of a heroin overdose before he could be brought to trial. Over the years, the identity of Nancy’s killer has been the subject of speculation. In addition to Vicious, suspects included two unknown drug dealers who had visited the couple’s hotel room earlier in the evening, one of whom may have been actor/comedian Rockets Redglare.
Nancy was just 20 years old. She was interred at King David Memorial Park, just outside of Philadelphia. Rumor has it that Sid Vicious’ cremated remains were scattered over Nancy’s grave.
With her mother working two jobs and her father tending to the home, Leona Gage was on her own. At 13, Leona met 24-year old US Air Force airman Gene Ennis. The two were married and Leona gave birth to their first child at 14. Ennis shipped out for duty and never responded to Leona’s frequent letters. At the insistence of a friend, Leona married another airman, but Leona’s mother had the marriage annulled soon after.
Gene Ennis returned to Leona and the couple moved to suburban Baltimore from their native Longview, Texas. Leona gave birth to their second child, despite the marriage falling apart. Now, 16 years old, Leona was introduced to the world of modeling by a co-worker at the dress shop that employed her. The Walters Modeling Agency groomed and prepared Leona for entry into the Miss Maryland USA pageant — which she won. She told the head of the modeling agency that she was married and could not go to the Miss USA pageant. She claimed one of the pageant officials told her to lie to the public. Pageant officials, however, deny her claims.
In 1957, Leona Gage entered and won the Miss USA pageant, the first representative from Maryland to do so. Rumors surfaced regarding Leona’s age, marital status and the fact that she had children. A quick investigation was launched and, after questioning, lying and finally confessing, Leona was stripped of her title.
Her (infamous) notoriety brought on numerous television offers, including an appearance on the popular Ed Sullivan Show. She became sort of a novelty, but also received a fair share of hate mail.
After the scandal, Leona and her sons moved to Las Vegas, where she divorced Ennis and found work as a showgirl at the Tropicana. She married a fellow dancer, but divorced after she was brought up on charges of child abuse. She moved to Los Angeles where she met and married aspiring screenwriter, Gunther Collatz. She landed a small role in Roger Corman’s film Tales of Terror. She followed that with a few more small film roles. She divorced Collatz. She experimented with LSD and was romantically linked with John Drew Barrymore (actress Drew’s father) and Mickey Hargitay (ex-husband of actress Jayne Mansfield and father of actress Mariska). In 1965, 26-year-old Leona overdosed on barbiturates in a suicide attempt. She recovered and spent three weeks in Camarillo State Mental Hospital.
After her release from the hospital, she published a ghost-written book called My Name Is Leona Gage, Will Somebody Please Help Me? She released another film that bombed at the box office. She became a hairdresser, while singing in burlesque clubs on the side. She married for the fifth and sixth times and gave birth to another son, although she eventually lost custody of all of her children. In the 70s, she mounted an unsuccessful comeback, trying to break into commercials.
After six failed marriages, losing custody of her children (two of whom predeceased her), disqualification from a beauty pageant, a suicide attempt and a show business career that never took off, Leona passed away in 2010 at the age of 71.
It’s Week 2 of Inktober. Here’s Jeff Morrow as the mysterious “Exeter” in the 1955 science-fiction B-movie This Island Earth, a favorite of the MST3K crew.
Everyone knows about my love of cemeteries. I have been to many cemeteries and I have seen a lot of graves. However, no grave is as opulent as the Taj Mahal. It was commissioned in 1632 by the Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan, to house the tomb of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal.
In 1962, Charles Bradley was taken to the venerable Apollo Theater by his sister to see a performance by energetic soul singer James Brown. Charles was inspired. He soon left home to escape poor living conditions and found himself on the streets, homeless and sleeping on subway cars at night. He found salvation with the federally-funded Job Corps who placed him in Bar Harbor, Maine, where he trained as a cook. A co-worker, noting Charles’ resemblance to James Brown, asked if he could sing. A shy Charles first said no, then relented, explaining that he had been mimicking Brown’s vocal style and stage maneuvers for years. He began performing locally, until his band mates were all drafted into military service during the Vietnam War. That band never reformed.
In the early 90s, he saw his share of life difficulties. Charles almost died in a hospital after an allergic reaction to penicillin. Another time, Charles was awakened to a commotion as police and ambulances were arriving to the scene of his brother’s murder just down the street.
Charles made his way across the United States, performing under the stage name “Black Velvet,” doing a James Brown tribute show. During one of his shows, Charles caught the attention of Gabriel Roth, co-founder of Daptone Records. Roth introduced Charles to his future producer Tom Brenneck, then the songwriter and guitarist for The Bullets, who invited Charles to his band’s rehearsal. At the rehearsal, the humbled singer asked that the band simply perform while he made up lyrics on the spot.
In 2011, Daptone released Charles Bradley’s debut, No Time for Dreaming. Charles was 63 years old. He released two more albums to critical acclaim and toured extensively. His performances became legendary, noted for the concluding ritual of Charles offering hugs to anyone who asked.
In August 2016, Charles fell ill and canceled a tour of Canada. He was diagnosed with stomach cancer in October. Despite his illness, Charles soldiered on when he could, including a stellar performance at the WXPN Exponential Music Festival in July 2017.
Charles succumbed to cancer in late September 2017. He was 68.
Maybe somewhere down the road a-ways
You’ll think of me, wonder where I am these days
Maybe somewhere…
