Goodbye Joe

Even though the year is still young, we’ve already lost some of the greats. Christopher Plummer. Cicely Tyson. Cloris Leachman. Hal Holbrook. And today we lost another, although famous in a different way.

Joe Allen died today.

Joe was a restauranteur whose Broadway restaurant in New York became the pre and post show place to dine. Civilians and celebrities alike came for the stellar menu, which changed daily, and the casual yet pampering service that just made you feel special.

Adorning the exposed brick walls were posters not of the hit plays New York audiences and tourists enjoyed, but the flops that opened and quickly closed—often on the same night.

When the wife and I were in NY a few years ago waiting to see Noel Coward's Present Laughter with Kevin Kline (who won the Tony for it), as usual we wanted to have our pre-show meal at Joe Allen’s. We didn’t have reservations, but we thought we’d give it a shot.

While we were waiting to speak to the host, it became obvious the person in front of us didn’t have reservations either. When he was told he couldn’t be seated he got quite irate and asked the host for his name.

The host said his name was Elizabeth Montgomery

The man left the restaurant, and when we walked up to the stand the first thing I said to him was, “Miss Montgomery I just want you to know we’re big fans of yours.” He gave me a wink and said, “Two? Right this way.”

For years there was a west coast Joe Allen’s on 3rd Street in Los Angeles. It was always one of my favorite restaurants for dates, meetings or just hanging out. I remember having lunch there on the patio with my friend Kevin Nealon years ago, and he started telling me about this sketch he and Dana Carvey had come up with about two Arnold-like bodybuilders named Hans and Franz.

So as you can imagine, I left the lunch feeling pretty pumped up.

Anyway, even at 87-years old, closing night came too soon for Joe. But we find some comfort knowing his restaurant will go on being a Broadway institution. And you can be sure my wife and I will always be there whenever we’re in town.

And on the lookout for Elizabeth Montgomery.

Guilty pleasures Part 3: The Master Of Disguise

Try to keep the groaning down. I can hear it from here.

Unlike guilty pleasures 1 (Final Destination 5) or even 2 (The Three Stooges), I'm certain I'm going to take a certain amount of ridicule for this third entry in the series. You can't change my mind. Have at it.

I'll say straight off the bat that The Master of Disguise isn't a good film (which has never been a requirement for a guilty pleasure), but it is an entertaining one.

In the ugly realm of kids films parents are forced to endure, when both of mine were younger we used to watch TMOD over and over and over. It wore out it's welcome fast, especially since my kids would repeat lines from the film. Over and over and over.

But watching it recently after not seeing it for a very long time, I found myself laughing out loud at Dana Carvey (for the right reasons). He plays a character named Pistachio - stay with me - and he just commits to it. I've always respected people who put themselves out there - consequences be damned.

Except Adam Sandler. Enough already.

See if you can keep a straight face during his (bad) Al Pacino in Scarface impression and the "...stuck in my esophagus" or "...little weiner and some tiny nuts" lines:

Alright, so maybe that clip went on a little too long and I should've warned you about the dancing over the credits at the end of it.

To make it up to you, please to enjoy this clip of Dana Carvey as Robert Shaw - Quint - from Jaws:

Yeah, yeah, I know. What can I say?

I have enough mindless drama in real life. Sometimes I just want some mindless comedy.