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It's not enough that he has to
hang from a broken ankle; he
also has to hold his breath for
three minutes and get out of
a locked cage full of water. That’s scary.
Even though this week is dominated by the spooky holiday
at the end of it, let's see what's happening between now and then.
Monday:
We'll start with artists, in particular, two who couldn't have been more
different. In 1881, Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María
de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso, better
known as just Picasso - was born in Malaga, Spain. In 1907, the flat perspectives and angular bodies of his Les Demoiselles
d'Avignon - hit the art world like a
bomb, and signaled the birth of cubism. Over the next 66 years, Picasso's creativity and
originality were unrivaled, as he produced some 50,000 works and became the
most famous artist in the world. (And, as a bonus, dressing as one of his
canvases would make a fine Halloween costume.)
On the other hand, we have Roy Lichtenstein, whose 87th birthday falls on Wednesday. In the early
1960s, Lichtenstein started copying panels from comic books, plagiarizing the
original work of such (better) artists as Jack Kirby, Russ Heath,
Tony Abruzzo, Irv Novick,
and Joe Kubert, rarely, if ever, giving the original artists credit - or
any of the huge fees he collected.
Thinking of more pleasant topics, we turn to leaf peeping,
and remind you that we’re at the peak of the fall foliage season. Throughout the northern latitudes - especially in
New England - tourists and natives are driving through the countryside
watching leaves die and turn eye-popping shades of yellow,
gold, and red.
It seems like magic, which is appropriate, given that this is International Magic Week.
Speaking of magic, tonight is the Broadway premiere of Alfred Uhry's play Driving Miss Daisy, starring James Earl Jones, Vanessa Redgrave, and Boyd Gaines.
Seems odd that a 23-year old play that spawned an Oscar-winning film has never appeared on Broadway, but that's showbiz.
Jones and Redgrave are huge stars, but it's the birthday of one of the
smallest: Billy Barty, born on this day in 1924. Barty was born with a form of
dwarfism called cartilage-hair hypoplasia and stopped growing at 3'9". He started working in movies at the age of three, almost always playing a baby or a child, even well into his teens. In his adult years,
he was a tireless worker for the rights of little people - and
turned in a series of fine performances in such films as The Day of the Locust and Foul Play.
Tuesday:
Today is the anniversary of the 1881 "Gunfight at the O.K.
Corral" in Tombstone, Arizona. While the fight itself didn't actually take place in the
corral, lasted only 30 seconds (although approximately 30 shots were fired in
that time), and was essentially the result of a feud between the Earp and Clanton families, it's probably the most famous gunfight in
Western history. It's the centerpiece of at least seven movies,
and numerous television shows and novels.
We also note a number of debuts today. First is the 1982 premiere of St. Elsewhere, which was one of the most
innovative series in television history; it combined gripping medical drama
with in-jokes, bizarre plot twists, and possibly the most notorious
finale in TV history, when it revealed that the show's entire six year run
had been the imaginings of an autistic teenager. Because of that ending, it remains at the
center of all television series, as the "Tommy Westphall Universe" theory posits that
"90 percent of all television took place in Tommy Westphall's
mind."
While we can't be certain that the Back to the Future trilogy takes place in Tommy's mind, we can be sure
that, in the wake of Michael J. Fox's recent reappearance as Marty McFly, all three movies are making their debuts on Blu-Ray today.
In the world of sports, the NBA season opens tonight. We'll be turning our attentions to Boston, where the traitorous LeBron James will be playing his first official game with the Miami Heat against the even-more-evil Celtics. We'll also be looking toward the Staples Center, where your world champion Los Angeles Lakers will be receiving their championship rings before hosting
the Houston Rockets.
If that's too much basketball for you, you might consider a trip to Secaucus, New Jersey for a taste of Jewish culture at Kosherfest.
(We assume the meat and dairy exhibits are kept in separate halls.)
Wednesday:
If Secaucus is just too darn far to travel to, we might suggest you snuggle up at home
with a spud and some suds to commemorate both National Potato Day and National American Beer Day, all while watching game one of the 2010 World Series, which begins tonight as the Texas Rangers travel to San Francisco's AT&T Park.
Thursday and Friday:
One team will win the Series and one will lose, but other winners and losers
dominate the next two days.
In the former column, we find Edith Head,
born on October 28, 1897, who was the Hollywood costume designer par
excellence, designing wardrobes for more than 400 films,
garnering 35 Oscar nominations and eight awards. Ms. Head isn't our only winner today, though; the American people scored a win in
1886, when the Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World was unveiled on what had been Bedloe’s Island, but has been called "Liberty Island" ever since.
Another winner is The Sound of Music, the 1965 blockbuster musical that (bafflingly to us) remains staggeringly popular. In fact, adjusted for inflation, it’s still the third highest-grossing film of all time, having taken in the equivalent of more than
$1.13 billion. So popular is it, in fact, that the cast will appear on Oprah Winfrey's show on Friday for a 45th anniversary reunion - including
co-star Christopher Plummer, whose disparagement of the film as The Sound of Mucus is legendary.
Sort of stuck between "winner" and "loser" was Anton LaVey, who died October 29, 1997, and was a writer and
occultist who founded the Church of Satan. That Church itself was less about "devil worship" than about the material world and the individual. We assume Mr. LaVey left plans for a
suitable funeral, but, regardless, Saturday will be your own chance to
think ahead, as it's Create a Great Funeral
Day.
Firmly in the "loss" column is the tragedy that occurred due to the
crash of the stock
market on October 29, 1929, an event
that plunged the planet into a Great Depression that only a world war was able to remedy.
Saturday:
The day before All-Hallow's Eve (aka "Devil's Night")
gives us plenty of opportunities to celebrate. For example, it's the 72nd
anniversary of Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre's radio adaptation of H. G. Wells's The War of the Worlds, a broadcast that allegedly scared the pants off a good portion of the country. Many who tuned in late
became convinced that Martians had indeed invaded Earth and the end of the
world was nigh. Given that Welles was famous for his ballyhoo,
we wonder how much of the panic was hoped-for.
Speaking of fear, we know we'll be glued to the tube this morning to watch Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert hold their "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear" on the National Mall in Washington. (And we'll finish the day by tuning into Saturday Night Live to watch Jon Hamm
return once more to his hosting duties.)
Of course, the most terrifying prospect (unless you're a dentist) is the
thought of all that candy tomorrow, accompanied by the prospect of toddlers hopped
up on sugar. The antidote for this is a candy so horrid that no one would actually
eat it. While the best solution is the worst of all candies (circus peanuts), the sweet in the number two position gets its turn in
the spotlight today, National Candy Corn Day. Buy a big bag of the vile stuff and your kids will be
begging for healthier treats.
Sunday:
Today is Halloween, which overshadows everything else, but there's still
plenty more of interest.
For example, the San Francisco 49ers will take on the Denver Broncos in London's venerable Wembley Stadium to demonstrate American football to the Brits one more time. (Though the way the Niners
have been playing so far this season, it could turn Wembley into a chamber of
horrors.)
And since the dead will walk tomorrow, we note the anniversary of the body of
the late Soviet leader Joseph Stalin being moved in 1961 from its premium spot beside the preserved corpse of Lenin.
Two of our own personal favorites passed in this day. In 1925, French silent
film comedian Max Linder committed suicide with his wife. At his peak in the
1910s, Linder was almost as famous and as popular as Charlie Chaplin. He turned out a series of droll comedies that contrasted with the adventures of Chaplin's "tramp"
character by portraying a sharp urban sophisticate. Unfortunately, Linder's film career was interrupted by World War I, and the subsequent health and mental problems he
suffered from his service led to his death.
On this day the following year, one of the greatest showmen of the Golden Age of Magic, Harry Houdini died. While not the most skilled
magician, he was unparalleled in giving his audience a full evening's
entertainment, which included magic, escapes,
and the exposure of fraudulent mediums. During his last week, Houdini suffered from appendicitis and fractured his ankle (and still performed his
"Chinese Water Torture Cell" escape, which involved being suspended by his
ankles) and Despite a temperature of 104ºF and intense pain, he refused
to be hospitalized until he collapsed on stage (and even then, he
finished the show). After a week in Detroit's Grace Hospital, he died of peritonitis
brought on by his ruptured appendix.
Somewhere between horror and entertainment lies the musical The Scottsboro Boys, which opens on Broadway tonight. One of the final
collaborations between writers John Kander and Fred
Ebb (the latter of whom actually died
in 2004), the musical tells the story of nine black Alabama teenagers who were unjustly accused
of raping two white women in 1931. The case became a cause célèbre,
sparking years of trials, appeals, retrials, and Supreme Court rulings,
ultimately ending in a series of convictions, pardons, and acquittals.
After all that death and destruction, let's end the week on some lighter
notes. For example, Halloween 1941 saw the completion of the sculpting of the
faces on Mt. Rushmore. And today, in addition to being Halloween, is also,
appropriately enough, National Knock-Knock Joke
Day, dedicated not only to the
first jokes many of us learned, but also to the kids who'll be
knocking on your door tonight - some of whom may well be collecting for UNICEF, since this is National UNICEF Day.
See you in November!
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