"CELLAR-DOOR CAGNEY"

Cagney believed in hard work, later stating, "It was good for me. I feel sorry for the kid who has too cushy a time of it. Suddenly he has to come face-to-face with the realities of life without any mama or papa to do his thinking for him."

In the last week, I found myself watching a few James Cagney (1899-1986) movies, starting with White Heat (1949), the movie with the famous ending of "Look, Ma!  I'm on top o' the world!" before Cagney's character, Cody Jarrett,  is blown to smithereens.

Cagney was a favorite in our house since our parents grew up in his days.  

I learned only this morning that prizefighter great, Floyd Patterson and Russian ballet dancer, Mikhail Baryshnikov, were pallbearers at his funeral.  

Then there's the 1950 Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye, another terrific film starring Barbara Payton and Ward Bond  

His 1943 movie, Johnny Come Lately had some interesting scenes and dialogue, but the plot was predictable and lacked novelty.  

Besides Angels with Dirty Faces and White Heat, Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942) is probably Cagney's most memorable film, particularly the scene where he dances down the staircase.  It's the only film for which he won an Academy Award.  

As Cagney's character, Cohan, reached the foot o the stairs and makes his way to the door, a butler, played by Clinton Rosemond, presents his coat to him before he exits.  I initially thought that the two butlers were the Nicholas Brothers, but they were too popular, too in-demand, for this film.  Writers and editors at Wikipedia must be social justice warriors, for they prefer to lament that 

Rosemond was frequently relegated to playing demeaning parts, such as a stereotypical "scared Negro." 

I don't know.  Does Rosemond look scared or unhappy or less than in this scene with a money-making star, like James Cagney?  No.  Besides, Wikipedia states that "Rosemond was frequently relegated," meaning that he had work and lots of it.  Meaning he was making money as an actor.  Most actors would love such roles.  Wikipedia's editors are pathetic SJWs.

And of course, there is this classic dance scene from the 1955, The Seven Little Foys, co-starring Bob Hope.  

Cagney's skills are chosen for a cameo in this compilation on dancing put to the music by The Killer's song, "All These Things That I've Done," (2004).

MOM LOVED CHRISTMAS

My mom absolutely loved Christmas.

She loved the decoration.  In later years, when most of us were out of the house, she would ask Joe to pick her up a Christmas tree.  She would share with me memories of her and her brother gathering up their skates and walking to a nearby frozen lake.  I can imagine Mom skating at scenes like this one, though this particular photo is from Evergreen, CO, which is up at the foot of the Rockies.

And though Mom absolutely loved Southern California's brilliant sun compared to the sun in Denver, she also loved active, outdoor scenes too. 

Mom loved to decorate her living room and dining room with Christmas ornaments. 

Kathleen Larkin mailed her a Christmas wreath, which she hung out on her front door every year. 

Mom and Dad both would hang Christmas cards on a string across the ceiling, place a few on the furniture in the living room as well as on the hutch in the dining room. 

And perhaps her most treasured display was the Nativity set. 

As for Christmas music, Mom's favorite was Bing Crosby, 

 

But she liked all of it.  What I posted about Dad preparing Thanksgiving and the Christmas song list there, she too enjoyed those.  And why not?  So much of christmas music is like a tender lullaby as my dear friend, Joanne put it listening to the Irish band, Capercaillie.  Here's that list from the post about Dad listening to the radio while prepping the turkey late into the night on Thanksgiving Eve. 

I do miss the Thanksgiving dinners that my dad used to prepare. He'd start the night before.  He'd set his radio to KFI where they'd already begun playing his Christmas favorites--Bing Crosby's "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," 1951, "Mele Kalikimaka," 1950, Perry Como's "Jingle Bells," 1946, Burl Ives' "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," 1964, and choral pieces by Mitch Miller and His Gang.  I'll never forget his "Sing Along with Mitch" Christmas chorus album we had in the house.  I liked Mitch Miller, 1911-2010, for the invigorating energy he sang Christmas songs with the delicious irony that he was Jewish.  Funny to see how some of my musical influences stem from the '40s, '50s, and '60s. 

One of my favorite soprano singers is Renee Fleming.  I could not believe what I was hearing when I first heard her voice so many years ago, probably around 2005 or 2007.  The screensaver on my computer was a photo of her in a red Christmas dress.

When a woman's voice can make you cry, you know that she has struck a chord of beauty and love.  And few voices have that power.  Hers does.  I know for a fact that Dad would have loved to hear her voice.  Dad's favorite singer was Anne Murray, but the beauty here in Fleming's voice is inimitable.  The beauty of religion and religious stories is that they tend to be mysterious, the more improbable the more we try to make sense of them.  But they are told in an aura of mysticism, wonder, and love.  And when we hear these carols and familiar stories so many years later, we are transported back to that improbable love, where we honor the source of life and love found in the Biblical story of Christ's birth, a love in which few are capable in a world that seems to know mostly evil, envy, and violence.  And so Christmas and its celebrations are that one time during the year that Christians around the world commemorate peace which turns our hard, stupid hearts toward gratitude and love.

Last year, on Christmas Eve, I posted this video from Westminster Abbey in London.  

Along with "Silent Night" in German, or "Stille Nacht."  

And then for Christmas delicacies, her favorite without comparison was See's Candies.

THANKSGIVING WITH DAD

I do miss the Thanksgiving dinners that my dad used to prepare. He'd start the night before.  He'd set his radio to KFI where they'd already begun playing his Christmas favorites--Bing Crosby's "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," 1951, "Mele Kalikimaka," 1950, Perry Como's "Jingle Bells," 1946, Burl Ives' "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," 1964, and choral pieces by Mitch Miller and His Gang.  I'll never forget his "Sing Along with Mitch" Christmas chorus album we had in the house.  I liked Mitch Miller, 1911-2010, for the invigorating energy he sang Christmas songs with the delicious irony that he was Jewish.  Funny to see how some of my musical influences stem from the '40s, '50s, and '60s. 

But with my dad's radio, the mood was set.  The tradition would carry forward.  I'd cut up a loaf of bread into tiny cubes for the dressing, put them on a cookie sheet, and bake till crispy. Then I'd boil the gizzards, liver, and neck of the turkey in the butter, chopped onions, celery, and carrots and fry those organ meats until lightly cooked.  They would cook further inside the turkey in the oven as part of the stuffing.  

He'd place his lit Tarreyton cigarette that he smoked intermittently on the edge of Mom's pink tiled counter, and a ribbon of smoke rose to the ceiling, creating a charming effect on the scene. He'd be up through the night.  He'd repeat this scene again for Christmas when by that time we'd strung up Christmas cards across the ceiling in the living and dining rooms with additional cards arranged atop the brick mantle above the fireplace and on top of the television, and decorated a colorful and fragrant tree in the front window.  No Thanksgiving or Christmas since has come close with the exception of those delicious Christmas and Thanksgiving meals that Charlen produced.  Her nativity pieces, to this day, are the best I've ever laid eyes on.

One of the albums that Miller composed included a recording by Captain Kangaroo, aka, Bob Keeshan, and Mr. Green Jeans.  You'd have to be old enough to know who those characters were, but they do pull the song off.  Christmas songs are pretty easy to sing.  Regarding Keeshan, this was interesting,

Network television programs began shortly after the end of the war. Howdy Doody, an early show which premiered in 1947 on NBC, was one of the first. Debuting on January 3, 1948, Keeshan played Clarabell the Clown, a silent Auguste clown who communicated by honking several horns attached to a belt around his waist. One horn meant "yes"; two meant "no". Clarabell often sprayed Buffalo Bob Smith with a seltzer bottle and played practical jokes. Keeshan gave up the role in 1952, and was replaced.

I didn't know that Miller disapproved of rock'n'roll.

Miller disapproved of rock 'n' roll—one of his contemporaries described his denunciation of it as "The Gettysburg Address of Music"—and passed not only on Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly, who became stars on RCA and Coral respectively but on The Beatles, too, creating a fortune in revenue for rival Capitol.  Previously, Miller had offered Presley a contract, but balked at the amount Presley's manager, Colonel Tom Parker, was asking.

In defense of his anti-rock stance, he once told NME in January 1958: "Rock 'n' roll is musical baby food: it is the worship of mediocrity, brought about by a passion for conformity." 

Who can argue with him?  Rock'n'Roll, musically at least, is the worship of mediocrity and is like baby food for undeveloped teenagers looking for legitimacy and authority.  The biography at IMDB explains that Miller

 Mitch Miller first entered the pop music scene in 1948 at Mercury Records, where he guided such acts as Vic Damone, Frankie Laine and Patti Page to success. In 1950 he was lured by Goddard Lieberson to Columbia Records as that label's A&R director, where he made stars out of Tony Bennett, Johnnie Ray, Guy Mitchell and many others. Miller himself first shot to prominence in the late 1950s with his "Sing Along" series of albums, which ultimately led to his own series, Sing Along with Mitch (1961). His opposition to rock and roll, however, undercut Columbia's market position for several years until after he left the label in 1965. In recent years, he has occasionally served as a guest conductor for symphony orchestras across the country. 

Didn't realize that he was responsible for the making of so many stars.  Perhaps most memorable for me was Miller's "Yellow Rose of Texas" . . . .

OMARA PORTUONDO

I love the voices, the song, and the video. The music is made beautiful by the beautiful, melodic voices. When I studied Spanish I often dreamed of what living in South America or Latin America might be like.  I dreamed of restaurants, clubs, and concerts.  This video captures some of that dream.  Thanks to Robert Higgs for this.

Omara Portuondo.  Who is she?



Equally important to ask is who is Haydee Milanes? And what song is that? It's "Yolanda."  Haydee Milanes is Pablo Milanes' daughter.  See Pablo's version of "Yolanda" here with his daughter, Haydee. 

  

1978 VERSION OF THE BAND'S "THE NIGHT THEY DROVE OLD DIXIE DOWN"

I've enjoyed so much music through the years, but tonight while shopping for dinner I heard this on the store players.

And what's funny is that I didn't immediately recognize it, that is until I recognized Stevie Nix's voice.

But perhaps my all-time favorite song is the 1978 version of The Band's "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down," with Levon Helm on vocals and drums.  Maybe it's his Arkansas accents that make him and that song unforgettable. 

      
I love it.  Here are its lyrics.

Virgil Caine is the name, and I served on the Danville train
'Til Stoneman's cavalry came and tore up the tracks again
In the winter of '65, we were hungry, just barely alive
By May 10th, Richmond had fell, it's a time I remember, oh so well

The night they drove old Dixie down when all the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down, and the people were singin', they went, "Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na."

Back with my wife in Tennessee, when one day she called to me,
Said "Virgil, quick, come see, there goes Robert E Lee."
Now I don't mind choppin' wood, and I don't care if the money's no good
Ya take what ya need and ya leave the rest
But they should never have taken the very best.

The night they drove old Dixie down, and all the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down, and all the people were singin', they went, "Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na."

Like my father before me, I will work the land
And like my brother above me, who took a rebel stand
He was just eighteen, proud and brave, but a Yankee laid him in his grave
I swear by the mud below my feet
You can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat.

The night they drove old Dixie down when all the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down, and all the people were singin', they went "Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na."

The night they drove old Dixie down, and all the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down, and all the people were singin', they went, "Na, na, na, la, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na."

Songwriters: Robbie Robertson

The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

SAN GABRIEL, CA, 1960

I took this shot back in 2012 at the end of my morning walk east on Las Tunas Drive.  I lived behind this building but it has greater memories for me than a landmark adjacent to my old residence.  My family grew up on Gladys Avenue one block west of this Shakey's.  My dad used to take my brothers and me miniature golfing at the old Aloha Miniature Golf on Las Tunas at Burton.  It's gone, of course, but not gone from memory.  What's regrettable is that the city never, ever, ever takes photos of former buildings to create an homage to its own history.  That's because the city government is not in any way interested in its past.  The government, for the most part, is bitterly protective of its past and will derail most efforts by John Q. Citizen to unearth any details, positive or otherwise.  Governments like it just fine that you forget about the city's history, its people, landmarks, and so forth.  But they will spend a fortune and erect a bronze statue to commemorate anew some Mexican rancher or indigent Indian, someone who has almost no connection to the modern world or civilization, as an homage to the forward-looking values (meaning socialist spending) of its socialist-minded supervisory board.  Across the street from Shakey's, meaning north across the street, was the old Goody's Restaurant where somebody in my family used to enjoy something.  No one talks, so no one knows.  I had breakfast here once with Norma Parker.  Such a wonderful, gracious companion. 

On September 13, 2018, I sent out an email to a few family members: 

Did any of you ever eat at Goody's in San Gabriel?  Enjoy a shake, a malt, a burger, anything?  Did Mom or Dad like the place?  The coffee?  The ambiance?  The service?  Or was the place built AFTER the Walgenbachs moved to Duarte?   

Do you recall the Aloha Miniature Golf Course down the way on Las Tunas Drive about where Burton intersects it?  

Dan replied

Yes, I did eat there with Pa and Lily most likely, as they were the ones that seemed to frequent it as I recall. I don't recall any item worth noting.  

I do remember going to the miniature golf course. It was a popular hangout.

I remember going to the Shamrock roller rink more than any place in San Gabriel.  And, maybe the San Gabriel and Temple City theaters, especially in the summer. 

The problem with Goody's or the miniature golf place was that both cost money of which we did not have an abundance to spend on such frivolous ventures. 

Shamrock Roller Rink was located one building south of Las Tunas on the east side of San Gabriel Blvd., the building directly behind O'Donnell Chevrolet. 

BLUEGRASS CLOG DANCING

When I taught English, someone at the school contracted local dance troupes representing different countries around the world—Romania, Guatemala, the Czech Republic, and so forth.  But we never had anyone from American Appalachian.  That was too bad because this is just terrific.  You have to love the respect that was extended to the families.  I guess I just needed a break from all of the Social Justice garbage.  In fact, what all of this Social Justice Warrior, MeToo, and BlackLivesMatter garbage will do is spur a renewed interest in the white Appalachian cultures.  People seem to be getting pretty sick and tired over honoring cultures on the other side of the planet.  Honor the cultures inside the North American states.  

You have to love the respect that was extended to 

"Let's do ol' John Hardy there." 

Reminder on how to set the embed code.  Click on "Share."  Then on "Embed."  Go to the end of the code where the question mark is and add "start=33&end=120" or whatever your parameters are.  See here for more.  

FRANK CONVERSE & NYPD

An actor whose stature, voice, and screen presence I liked a lot was the talented Frank Converse.  

His show NYPD was gritty and the discordant, sharp music was suspenseful. I liked the inner monologue of the characters as they entered existential conflicts and situations. As a kid, I liked that the characters revealed what they were thinking.  It certainly was not a standard trait of TV detectives, for sure, but being the main characters they often shared with the audience what they were thinking or how their calculations were being formed.  As a young actor, Converse had that New England New York college boy look.  At other times, he'd played a seasoned but beleaguered NYPD detective existentially remarking on the violent, desolate, and schizophrenic nature of the people of New York of the 70s.  I thought that he was an interesting guide on that scene for a kid watching a day unfold on the streets of New York.  Of course, he wasn't the only NY detective in those days.  There was Dennis Weaver (1924-2006) as McCloud.  Funny aside is that I saw Dennis Weaver on the 210 Freeway years after his show ended and he went into retirement.  He was driving in the eastbound lanes in a Nissan 240Z.  He was likable.   

A ESTE SOL PEREGRINO, TOMAS DE TORREJON Y VELASCO

More than any other song this past week that has uplifted my spirits it was this one that Robert Higgs posted on Facebook, who wrote on July 28, 2018, @ 1:36 pm

One of the good things—among many bad things—that came out of Spanish colonization of the New World.

I love the chorales, how one voice sustains, others pipe in, punctuating enduring ones, then rush headlong on their own riff, heavy, dominant.  I don’t know what I am talking about. 

CATRIN FINCH, CELTIC CONCERTO

I was up early to exercise, about 4:30 am, and as I sat in my parked car before stepping out I heard this piece. It was the energy and mysteries of the harp that struck me.  

MOM & DAD, 1940

This is 3 years before he'd enter the War and 3 years before Charlen was born.

I WAS SITTING ON AN OPEN HOUSE WHEN I GOT THE CALL

My dad died on Tuesday, April 12, 1988 at Santa Teresita Hospital in Monrovia.  I remember the cool morning of that Tuesday and getting the phone call.  I was sleeping on the sofa in the front room and the phone rang.  I knew what it was about and my mother's tones confirmed it.  From around the Southland the family made its way to Santa Teresita where my dad's body was lying in repose on a gurney. I studied his handsome face, his prominent nose, and longed for his lively blue eyes to cue some insight or joke or delight at something. We were all gripped by the loss.  I looked around at each one of my brothers and sisters.   

Sunday, April 10^th, I was sitting on an open house with Helen Lam in Duarte right off Amberwood and the phone to that house rang.  It was Dan informing me that dad was in the hospital and was lapsing into a coma.  I was dating Catherine at the time, and she agreed to go to the hospital to see my dad with me.  He was conscious.  Mostly all he could do was utter inarticulate replies.  He was dying.  And two days later, he did just that.  

I will never forget Marylin's comments following the wake at Zook Mortuary in Monrovia.  She said in controlled shock, "Wow.  His absence creates a real void" or something to that effect.  I remember she used the word void.  A day or two later, Dad 's funeral was held in Sierra Madre.  It was overcast and had drizzled a bit that morning.  A real estate buddy showed up with Mary Easley, the secretary at Realty World the Foothills in Duarte where I worked for a few years.  Mary owned a beautiful Volkswagen bug.  Not sure of the year--could have been '59.  But she used to get offers from guys walking in off the streets.  She'd yell at them "It's not for sale!"  I remember one guy who was insistence.  "You've got to have a price.  Everything is for sale at some price!"  Mary yelled back, "It's not for sale!" and beneath her breath, she'd say "Not to you.  Now get out of here."   Mary's middle name was Cregan.  And she was a fiercely proud Scottish woman.  She was born on November 7, 1919, and passed on March 29, 2007, at the age of 87.  She lived with her son, Bill or Chuck, at 900 North 1st Avenue, Unit A, Arcadia, CA. She invited me over once to see her new home. Her son was an audiophile who'd purchased some state-of-the-art speakers that did produce incredible sound.  Was thinking of her this morning in the context of my father who died on April 12, 1988.  

What else happened on Tuesday, April 12, 1988?  A few things.  

Alan Paton, South African author of Cry, the Beloved Country, 1948, died on this date.  FDR died on the same date 43 years earlier.  

Frank Robinson replaced Cal Ripken as manager of the Baltimore Orioles. 

Harvard University patents a genetically engineered mouse, a first in animal life.  

I saw Richard Crenna walking on the boulevard once and go into an antique store of which there were plenty.  Who else did I see here?  I saw Henry Winkler.  One shop owner once told me upon entering with large boxes that Jackie Onassis was just in her store.  Stepping off my UPS truck in 1985, I walked right past Ali MacGraw, Steve McQueen's old flame, and Ali gave me a very nice, very sweet look.  Memorable.  Thank you for that.  I'd walked past Mary Jo Beth Williams on La Cienega, closer to Santa Monica Blvd.  Who else did I see out there in Beverly Hills?  I was in an elevator ride with Victoria Principal.  Of Dallas fame, she was tiny but she wore nice perfume.  I delivered a package to the home of actress, Natalie Schafer, who played Mrs. Howell on Gilligan's Island.  The saddest image for me was seeing Jim Backus, the great actor who played Mr. Thurston Howell, III, and who narrated that great cartoon, Mr. Magoo.  


He played in the 1952 noir film, Deadline USA.  Didn't realize that he played the role of General Curtis LeMay in Above and Beyond, starring Robert Taylor, another actor I liked until I saw that he starred in a movie promoting the beauty of the Soviet Union.  But Backus played Curtis LeMay, the American general who really hated Asian countries and saw bombing as the only reply for those countries.  I believe that Sterling Hayden's character in Dr. Strangelove was a reprise of Curtis LeMay.  I remember seeing him in a film noir for the first time and thought he was excellent.  But the sad image that I referred to above is when I was delivering on Cannon in Beverly Hills to a doctor's office and I saw him being wheeled in on a wheelchair.  It's a crushing sight indeed when the reality is unveiled behind the characters you'd admired as a kid.

Some of the better memories I had of Hollywood were the restaurants.  My sister, Sally, used to take me on several occasions to Cafe Figaro, whose dark dining room, bar, and pastry display really did make you feel like you were somewhere inside the limits of Paris.

I saw Victor French, costar in Little House on the Prairie and Highway to Heaven, eating a burger at Fat Burger at the southwest corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica Blvd.  So that was kind of neat to see celebrities of every ranking.  

I delivered a package to Steve Martin, the SNL actor, movie star, and famed comedian.  I saw the name on the package and didn't think anything of it, so I didn't have any expectations.  I rang the doorbell and the door opened with Steve Martin in a robe, not a bathrobe but more of a smoking jacket type robe.  He wasn't very tall and he didn't say anything.  Not a single word but nor did I.  I was in a bit of shock.  He just stood there with a very subtle smile on his face, and all I could think of was his role on SNL where he used to say "You can be like me too."  I just wanted to crack up.  I could have sworn that Bernadette Peters, his wife, was in the back hall somewhere. 

I used to make daily stops at Hackett Industries, the Buddy Hackett company run by his sisters, who were really nice to me.  Always they offered me something to drink.  It was such a pleasure working around wealthier people.  Working in Los Angeles, well, it's a different set of folks.  Mainly thugs.

On a red light at Wilshire and either Doheny or Robertson, I did see Burt Lancaster (1913-1994) driving a white Jaguar.  I saw him in my early years driving in Beverly Hills, so that could have been 1983 or 1984.  So in 1994, that means I was already working in Los Angeles. 

Sonny Bono was elected mayor of Palm Springs, California.  I'll never forget my days driving on Melrose Avenue for UPS from 1983 to 1986 and I'd see Sonny Bono sitting on a single chair at the corner of Melrose Avenue and Clinton Avenue out front of his restaurant, Sonny, obviously named after him.  The whole neighborhood was perfect for celebrity watching. 



His honesty about his career is refreshing.  But when you think about it, is there any other way that he, a star and whose life has been on parade his whole life, could be? 

Sonny’s experience in the restaurant business? Zilch. But he’s known around Hollywood as an excellent cook and a warm, generous host. Besides, he’s got a track record of turning blissful ignorance into big money. “I never knew how to read music, write a song or produce a record either,” shrugs the composer of I Got You Babe and other late-’60s hits. “This is a total wing job.”

The cost of this little “wing job” is estimated between $500,000 and $1 million, a sizable investment for Sonny, whose career never fully recovered from his 1975 breakup with Cher. To win acceptance in his own right, he studied acting, did dinner theater, TV movies and multiple Love Boats and Fantasy Islands. Still, he admits, “The transition has been a bitch.” Susie sees the restaurant as a vital step on the road to self-realization. “For the first time in a long time he’s doing something totally on his own,” she says, “and I’m sure that’s got to be a good feeling.” “Great feeling,” corrects Sonny, grinning. 

I don't know. I like his honesty.  

SAN PEDRO

Fascinating. Steve Allen Show produced in pre-communist Havana, Cuba, 1958.

Mamie van Doren appears at the 39:23 mark.  Here is her Wikipage.

February 9, 1958. 

Steve Allen, Ann Southern, Steve Lawrence and Eddie Gormet, Dinah Shore, then Frank Sinatra.  This is a wonderful song-and-dance piece.  It was funny to see Frank Sinatra introduced, standing all alone at a lamp post.  What could that mean?  

GET SMART

Don Adams was one of my favorite comedians growing up during the '60s.  And I liked his co-star, Barbara Feldon.  I also liked Bernie Kopell in his role as KAOS agent, Siegfried.  

 

Here is Don Adams doing stand-up on the Steve Martin Show.  I liked Steve Martin, the comedian.  I didn't watch too many episodes of his Show.  I will never forget the time back in September, 1984, shortly after the Summer Olympics in LA, when I was in Vancouver with Kathy Braidhill.  I went into a bank to exchange my dollars for the Canadian loon and in the bank was Steve Allen and his wife, Jayne Meadows.  I liked Steve's voice, his intelligence, his intelligent facial expressions, and how he seems to absolutely enjoy talking and thinking.  He was also a sharp dresser.  

Steve died in 2000 in Encino at his son's home.  He was 78.