Harry Potter’s antagonistic, unkempt, and ultimately loyal potions master was inspired by J.K. Rowling’s severe high school chemistry teacher, John Nettleship. “I knew I was a strict teacher,” he told a reporter, “but I didn’t think I was that bad.”
2. WONDER WOMAN
Psychologist William Moulton Marston was a man of many talents: He invented an early lie detector test. He also debuted Wonder Woman in 1941 to teach children about women’s equality in an easy-to-digest format. His inspiration was a member of his family, Planned Parenthood founder Margaret Sanger.
3. UNCLE BEN
Betty Crocker and Aunt Jemima are fictitious, but Uncle Ben was a real Houston rice farmer renowned for his quality grains. However, that’s not his rice in the box—nor is that his visage. The bow-tied man is said to be a Chicago maitre d’hotel named Frank Brown.
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
In the minds of countless millions of moviegoers the world over, certain celluloid images are indelible. There's Clark Gable looking dashing in his Rhett Butler garb, telling Scarlett (Vivien Leigh) "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." There's Judy Garland dancing down the yellow brick road with her three companions, Humphrey Bogart in his Casablanca trench coat, Charlie Chaplin waddling down the road with cane in hand, and Harold Lloyd hanging from that big clock on that tall building.
Which brings us to the movie with the world's most beloved comic duo trying to push a piano up a seemingly insurmountable flight of stairs.
Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy filmed The Music Box during an 11-day span, from December 7th through December 17th, in 1931. Although they may not have realized it during those 11 days, they were filming not only their most enduring cinematic image and their single most beloved short, but their only film in the over 100 they worked on together to be awarded an Academy Award.
Some original titles for the The Music Box were Top Heavy, Words and Music and The Up and Up. One has to wonder if they hadn't ultimately decided on the much catchier The Music Box, would this short have achieved it's "classic" status and immortality.
The plot is simple enough: two dimwits (Stan and Ollie) are assigned to deliver a piano to a home on top of a huge flight of stairs. Various perils, mistakes, confusions mess-ups and angry encounters occur along the way (as if you didn't suspect). As in any Laurel and Hardy film, the boys are inept and incompetent due to three major factors: other's interference, the laws of nature, but most of all their own stupidity.
Martha Mitchell is largely forgotten now, but at the height of her fame in the 1970s, she was one of the most popular women in America.
THE MOUTH OF THE SOUTH
On November 21, 1969, Martha Beall Mitchell, the wife of Attorney general John Mitchell, gave an interview on the CBS Morning News. Her husband had been on the job for nearly a year, and in that time she hadn't attracted that much attention. Her TV appearance changed that. She came out against Vietnam War protesters, whom she denounced as "liberal Communists… As my husband had said many times, some of the liberals in this country, he'd like to exchange them for the Russian Communists." Nixon administration officials cringed when they saw the show; they wondered how bad the fallout would be… until letters started pouring into the White House supporting Martha.
Suddenly people were interested in Martha Mitchell. She cut quite a figure: A native of Pine Bluff, Arkansas, she was a 51-year-old Southern belle whose loud clothes, big hair, and cat-eye sunglasses competed with her big mouth for attention.
But the big mouth always won. Martha had an opinion on everything-she loved Richard Nixon (one of the funniest and sexiest men in America) but hated liberals (communistic), teachers (too liberal), lawyers (they're lawyers), the Supreme Court (too liberal), the press (too powerful), and universities (too liberal).
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
The most famous show business performers in history are no different than the unknowns, the obscures and the lesser knowns. Every performer has one thing in common- they all made their debut somewhere or other, whether auspicious or less so. Like they say, everyone has to start some place. Let's take a look at the show biz debuts and earliest performances of twenty stars.
1. Groucho Marx
Groucho (pictured at right) had an early gig singing in a protestant church choir. This worked out well until they found out he was Jewish and fired him.
2. Harpo Marx
Groucho's older brother Harpo (on the left) made his debut at Coney Island at the age of 19. He was hijacked from his safe job as a piano player in a nickelodeon movie theater and tossed on stage to accompany his brothers, Groucho and Gummo (and another singer named Lou Levy), as one of the Four Nightingales. Harpo was so scared he wet his pants. Harpo called it "the most wretched debut in the history off show business."
3. Sylvester Stallone
Sly got his first acting gig playing Smokey the Bear in a school play.
4. Elvis Presley
Elvis Presley's first-ever performance as a singer was in a singing contest at the Mississippi-Alabama Fair & Dairy Show. He was ten years old at the time. Dressed as a cowboy and wearing glasses, Elvis stood on a chair to reach the microphone. He sang Red Foley's "Old Shep" and won fifth prize in the contest. His prize was $5.00 plus a free ticket to all the rides at the fair.
5. Orson Welles
Orson's earliest public performance happened before he was ten years old. He appeared dressed as Peter Rabbit in the store window of Marshall Fields department store in Chicago. He was paid $25 a day.
It's impossible to tell whether two people will make a good couple, and once you add in all the psychological and environmental factors that contribute to our mindset it's incredible that couples ever get together at all.
One thing we can do to ensure we're with someone who will actually make us happy is to observe what the happiest couples we know are doing to stay so content in their coupling.
But since this won't actually work in real life, since many couples who aren't happy together claim they are, you should check out this infographic put together by Happify to see The Science Behind A Happy Relationship.
According to their research happy couples talk more, make time for intimacy, share experiences together, celebrate each other's good news and try not to tear each other down when fighting. Who knew?!
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
The recent passing of Don Rickles on April 6th left many of us sad, wistful and perhaps even a little worried. Known around the world as "the merchant of venom" and "Mr. Warmth" (a nickname bestowed on him by Johnny Carson), Don was, apparently, the last of the insult comics.
Don insulted everyone, he was an equal opportunity insulter. He insulted presidents, royalty, the biggest celebrities in the world, as well as commoners, nonentities, hicks, yokels, and rubes. But no one ever objected or took any offense. Heck, it was a badge of honor to have Don Rickles insult you.
And with the age of political correctness closing its humorless noose around our collective necks, somehow we sensed that the end of an era had arrived. And Don Rickles, one of the funniest guys in the world, was the last of a dying breed. Okay, here are 18 facts you may not have known about the great Don Rickles.
1. He served in World War II.
After graduating from Newtown High School in New York, Don Rickles served on the motor torpedo boat tender USS Cyrene, he was a seaman first class. He was honorably discharged in 1946.
2. He graduated from the prestigious American Academy of Dramatic Arts.
Among his classmates were Jason Robards, Anne Bancroft, and Grace Kelly.
3. He became an insult comic almost by accident.
After graduating from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, Don wasn't getting any acting gigs, so he switched over to stand-up comedy. But he found that his stand-up act wasn't getting many laughs from the customers. So he started insulting them. He quickly discovered that the paying crowds liked (and laughed more) at his insult shtick than his stand-up routine, so he stuck with it.
Why is it that so many of the people who choose to defraud their workers' compensation insurance for the sake of greed are so blatant and dumb about it?
It's like they really want to get one over on the insurance company yet don't understand how things like cameras, smartphones or audio recorders work so their "crafty" plan is doomed from day one.
But this CCTV footage from an office building in Ft Lauderdale features a defrauder who isn't even crafty enough to come up with a feasible claim- she just bashes her own head and claims the ceiling fell on her:
Her employer's insurance company got suspicious and brought in Florida's Division of Investigative and Forensic Services." At least that's how Fox 13 out of Tampa put it. God might not see nor care but they had a camera upon her the whole while. They fired her and charged her with insurance fraud. The judge put her on 18 months' probation.
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
Ethel Mertz had three different middle names in I Love Lucy. She was (in various episodes) Ethel Mae, Ethel Roberta and Eethel Louise Potter before marrying her husband Fred Hobart Mertz. Lucy's maiden name was Lucille Esmeralda McGillicuddy. Ricky's full name was Ricardo Alberto Fernando Ricardo y de Acha.
Clark Kent's middle name has been variously given as Joseph, Jerome and Jonathan. (Shades of Ethel Mertz!) Jimmy Olsen's full name? James Bartholomew Olsen.
Tarzan's real name is John Clayton, Lord Greystoke.
The Sweathogs of Welcome Back, Kotter were Arnold Dingfelder Horshack, Freddie Percy Washington, and Juan Luis Pedro Felipe de Huevas Epstein. Vinnie Barbarino was just plain Vinnie Barbarino.
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
"Take Me Out to the Ball Game," the most popular baseball song ever written, was actually co-composed by two guys who had almost no interest in baseball whatsoever. (Kind of like Ryan Seacrest hosting the Miss America pageant.)
In 1908, a 29-year-old vaudeville performer named Jack Norworth (he was famous for his spirited hoofing and blackface routines) was riding the New York subway. During his subway ride, he saw a sign that said "Baseball today at the Polo Grounds."
The song struck a chord and Norworth was immediately inspired. He thought, was there a better example of a nationally shared experience than going to see a baseball game? Always on the lookout for a commercial idea, he quickly scribbled down a verse and chorus. He titled his song "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." (His original handwritten lyrics sheet is now in the National Baseball Hall of Fame.)
Norworth took his lyrics to a composer named Albert Von Tilzer. Von Tilzer wasn't much of a baseball fan either. Nevertheless, he knocked off a jaunty melody that fit Norworth's lyrics like a well-oiled glove.
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis were introduced on a New York street in March of 1945. Dean was born Dino Paul Crocetti in Steubenville, Ohio, on June 7, 1917. Jerry was born Jerome Levitch in Newark, New Jersey, on March 16, 1926.
They were introduced that fateful day by a mutual friend, an Italian singer named Sonny King. At the time, Dean was a semi-successful singer, performing around the East Coast in nightclubs and on his own radio show. Jerry was eking out a living doing a "record act," where he would mime to records by famous singers, all the while mugging outrageously.
According to one later interview, their initial reactions to each other reflected the fact that neither was very impressed. Jerry thought Dean was "conceited, snooty and stand-offish," Dean thought Jerry was "a young wise guy." Despite these initial opinions, the two soon became friends.
Staying in the same hotel, as well as being chronically out of work, Jerry would babysit Dean's kids for him. Soon, by pure coincidence, the two would sometimes be booked at the same clubs. Jerry and Dean would sometimes goof around onstage together, heckling each other, doing imitations and cracking jokes. The audiences ate it up, the boys had fun, but nothing more came of it.
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
Our 18th U.S. president, Ulysses S. Grant was, like so many of our presidents before and since, a fascinating person in real life. Not only was he one of our most famous presidents, but Grant was also a very celebrated and distinguished military leader. Okay, let's take a look at a few things you may not have known about Ulysses s. Grant.
1. Grant's real name was Hiram Ulysses Grant, but he so hated his initials -H.U.G.- that he began using Ulysses as his first name.
2. Ulysses S. Grant's father bestowed the nickname "Useless" on him. Nothing like a little negative reinforcement to set a kid off on the right path, eh?
3. While president, Grant was once arrested for speeding in his horse-drawn carriage. He insisted on paying the fine and wrote a letter to the cop's boss complimenting the officer on his respect for the law- regardless of who the lawbreaker was.
A woman is found dead...a well-known celebrity is charged with murder...the whole world follows the trial. O. J. Simpson? Nope—Fatty Arbuckle. In the early 1920s, the Arbuckle trial was as big as the Simpson trial. Here’s the story.
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR
On the morning of Saturday, September 10, 1921, two men from the San Francisco sheriff’s office paid a visit to Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, then Hollywood’s most famous comedian, at his home in Los Angeles. One of the men read from an official court summons: “You are hereby summoned to return immediately to San Francisco for questioning...you are charged with murder in the first degree.” Arbuckle, thinking the men were pulling a practical joke, let out a laugh. “And who do you suppose I killed?”
“Virginia Rappé.”
Arbuckle instantly knew that this was no joke. He’d just returned from a trip to San Francisco, where he’d thrown a party over the Labor Day weekend to celebrate his new $3 million movie contract—then the largest in Hollywood history—with Paramount Pictures. A 26-year-old bit actress named Virginia Rappé had fallen ill at the party, presumably from drinking too much bootleg booze. Arbuckle had seen to it that the woman received medical attention before he returned to L.A., but now Rappé was dead—and Arbuckle had somehow been implicated in her death. Whatever doubts he may still have had about the summons vanished the following morning as he read the three-inch headlines in the Los Angeles Examiner:
ARBUCKLE HELD FOR MURDER!
The autopsy report showed that Rappé died from acute peritonitis, an inflammation of the abdominal lining brought on by a ruptured bladder. Why was Arbuckle a suspect in the death? Because Maude “Bambina” Delmont, another woman at the party, had filed a statement with San Francisco police claiming that she had seen Arbuckle drag Rappé into his bedroom against her will and assault her. As she later explained to newspaper reporters,
I could hear Virginia kicking and screaming violently and I had to kick and batter the door before Mr. Arbuckle would let me in. I looked at the bed. There was Virginia, helpless and ravaged. When Virginia kept screaming in agony at what Mr. Arbuckle had done, he turned to me and said, ‘Shut her up or I’ll throw her out a window.’ He then went back to his drunken party and danced while poor Virginia lay dying.
The 265-pound comedian had supposedly burst Rappés’ bladder with his weight during the assault. And because the injury had gone untreated, it developed into a massive abdominal infection, killing Rappé.
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
The Beatles' first record "Love Me Do" was released on October 5, 1962. It was a moderate success, peaking at #17 on the national music charts. Now, the band needed a good, strong follow-up song. "Please Please Me" was written entirely by John Lennon.
Early on in their co-writing careers, John and Paul had decided that every song, even if only written individually, would be officially credited to Lennon-McCartney. And so it was with "Please Please Me." Interestingly, on the song's original release in England, on the Beatles' first album, it was credited as a "McCartney-Lennon" composition. After this, every co-written or individually-written song by John and Paul was credited to the now-familiar "Lennon-McCartney".
Written at his childhood home at 251 Menlove Avenue in Liverpool (his aunt Mimi's home), John was to vividly remember composing the number. He remembered "The pink eiderdown over the bed, sitting in one of the bedrooms."
John said he had just heard a Roy Orbison song "Only the Lonely," which influenced him to write the song as a slow-paced ballad. He was also strongly influenced by a 1932 Bing Crosby song called "Please." In it, Crosby sings the line "please lend a little ear to my pleas." A natural wordsmith, John was always fascinated by this double use of the word "please."
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
Dawn Elberta Wells was born on October 18, 1938, in Reno, Nevada. Dawn Wells has lived such a full, rich, idyllic life, it is a bit ironic that her very first dream was probably the only one she never achieved. "I wanted to be a ballerina more than anything," she says, "(but) I couldn't get 15 inch thighs and grow another five or six inches. And my knees started dislocating."
Nonetheless, Dawn had a very happy childhood, she rode horses, and her mother grew the family's own fruits and vegetables. She attending Reno High School where she was class treasurer, president of the debate team, and an honor roll student. After high school, Dawn enrolled at Stephens College in Missouri, where she studied chemistry. But after taking a theater course, Dawn got the acting bug and transferred to the University of Washington, where they had a good theater department.
A knockout, Dawn also entered and won the Miss Nevada beauty pageant in 1959. She competed in the Miss America pageant in 1960, in which (hard to believe) she did not win. Although she didn't win, the contest paid for Dawn's last two years in college.
After graduating, Dawn went to Hollywood to attempt a career in show business. She got both her first agent and her first acting job within six weeks. Dawn was to marry her agent Larry Rosen in 1962. Beautiful, eager, and talented, Dawn got many guest starring roles in tv series including '77 Sunset Strip, Wagon Train, Maverick, and Bonanza.
In 1964, Dawn auditioned for a new show on the CBS schedule called Gilligan's Island. She met with the show's creator, Sherwood Schwartz, where the two chatted about the character she was up for- Mary Ann Summers, a farm girl from Kansas (based on Judy Garland's "Dorothy" character in The Wizard of Oz.)
Neatorama presents a guest post from actor, comedian, and voiceover artist Eddie Deezen. Visit Eddie at his website or at Facebook.
Johann Peter Weissmuller, the son of Peter and Elisabeth Weissmuller, was born on June 2, 1904, in Freidorf, Austro-Hungarian Empire (present day Timisoara, Romania). Johann and his parents immigrated to the United States in 1905, before he was even a year old. The three Weissmullers were steerage passengers on the boat to Ellis Island and were listed as "Germans." (Although there is some dispute about Johann's exact place of birth, his birth date seems to be mutually agreed upon by all sources.)
The family settled in a town called Windber, Pennsylvania, where Peter found work as a miner. Another Weissmuller son, Peter Jr., was born in 1905. By 1910, the family had moved and settled in Chicago.
At the age of nine, Johann contracted polio. His doctor recommended he take up swimming to battle the disease. Johann took to the new activity like a fish to water (sorry) and soon had a spot on the local YMCA swim team.
He had been a student at the Lane Technical College prep school, but soon dropped out and found work as a lifeguard at Lake Michigan Beach. Johann had several odd jobs during this period, including working as both a bellboy and an elevator operator at the Illinois Athletic Club.
A swim coach named William Bachrach spotted and was impressed by Johann's aquatic prowess and became his trainer in August of 1921. Soon, Johann had won two national swimming championships.
It was during this period, that Johann adopted the more Americanized named of "Johnny Weissmuller." He also took on the birth date of his younger brother (November 5, 1905) and "adopted" a new birthplace- Tanneryville, Pennsylvania. These factors were necessary when he needed an American passport to be able to compete in the 1924 Olympics. His younger brother's Pennsylvania baptism record was enough to convince authorities. The whole new identity scheme for Weissmuller was supposedly cooked up by his mother.
