HAROLD'S MINI REVIEW #1

"FAMILY GOY" (no misprint, that's the joke)



What the hell is this show? A fat moron who makes poo jokes all the time? A baby that wants to kill its mother? Are you kidding me? This is a show? And the little 9 year old who writes it is swimming in women, driving some big car and laughing all the way to the bank? Well that's the only laughter in my house -- except when my grandson Tommy comes over to watch it. Explain to me how this is a show... a dog who drinks martinis? In the daytime? And every other word is bitch this and ass that and poo and pee that! What is this written in crayon?



It's a blessing that the original Family Guy, Robert Reed, never lived to see this. I thank God for giving him that disease 20 years ago so he wouldn't have to see the good name of FAMILY COMEDY dragged through the gutter by some bunch of smart ass retards. And don't tell me it's EDGY. I know edgy.




I wrote the "Carter Country" where the redneck famer called Kene Holliday "boy". You shoulda heard that audience at Radford Studios gasp. Then Kene came back with a zinger so strong, so "edgy" that it made the people gasp again, and then cheer. If I can find the script, I'll priint it here, but believe me, it was sometthing else, so don't talk to me about EDGE. This show isn't EDGE, it's FUDGE (think about it). It makes me glad that nobody returns my phone calls. Who wants to be hired by a show like this????!!!

HAROLD'S VERDICT.... FIVE CLAMS OUT OF FIVE (where five is bad and zero is good). In brief, this thing stinks worse that Totie FIelds' sauna pants after the March Of Dimes. (Look it up and laugh).

Look for more reviews in the future if I can stop throwing up.

YOUTH TODAY... HOO BOY


So my grandson reads the blog and calls me. Who is Phil Silvers, he asks. I can't believe this kid. Never heard of Phil SIlvers? What are you, I ask -- 8? No, 13, he says. All the more reason I say. I give him my DVDs of Bilko ( I can't figure out how to work the button thing anyway) and tell him "Call me in a week." Kids today have no respect for the comedy giants of our industry. It's all David Spade and Dice Clay with them I suppose. Times like this make me want to really kill myself this time. (BUT HOW DO YOU REALLY FEEL?)

ABOUT THAT TITLE....

Okay, I bet your wondering about the title of this cockamamie thing. Well, 'The Bad Pitch" is a sitcom writer's term. Basically, when a bunch of writers are in "THE ROOM" working on, or 'BREAKING" a story, we'll often use what's called "THE BAD PITCH" to proffer a story idea or "JOKE". It means, 'here's the obvious, not terribly original, probably not too funny version of what I'm thinking of and if you guys think it's a road we want to go down, then we'll come up with "THE GOOD VERSION".

A sample Bad Pitch: "So, what if Rerun says to the trampy girl, and here's the bad pitch, 'Hey, you're really trashy." And then she makes a fat joke about how he eats out of the trash." Which, after hours of work turns into this piece of comic dialogue:

RERUN: Girl, you're like a HIgh School on Sundays... no class.

SMART ALECK GIRL: Gee, Rerun that's so smart, they might accept you into Yale.

RERUN: Really? Yale in Connecticut?

SMART ALECK GIRL: No I mean Yale, in New Yersey.


That exchange took seven hours to perfect. But perfect it we did. And Fred Berry made that scene just sing. I miss him every day.

"HOW ARE YOU?!"

If, like me, you didn't spend the past 90 years in a cave somewhere crazy, you'll recognize those words as the etetrnal catchprhase of the great Phil Silvers, the inspiration, if you will, for my nom de mouse... get it? If you do, then you have a sense of humor, unlike the morons running TV networks and studios and Hollywood talent agencies these days. Those people are the least funny, least "with it" human beings on the face of this earth. "But how do you really feel?"

Remember that line? Sure you do, it's funny is why. Think it wrote itself? Think it just sprang wholly from the lips of the actor who first uttered it on a little show called "Carter Country"? Think again, O Great Nimcompoop from the East. A writer wrote that line. A writer fought like hell to get that line broadcast on the American Broadcasting Company. Did that writer realize at the time he had discovered a whole new vein of comedy gold? That writer would be lying if he told you he did. But he did know it was FRESH. And FRESH is what the comedy writer's life is all about. What's new? What's now? What hasn't been done before? And once the writer finds that mysterious something FRESH, then he's free to use it all he wants. That's the beauty of this game that I've been proud to practice for these past 30 plus years.

So welcome to my blog. Here's where you'll get the straight dope from a straight dope. You'll get the true stories behind some of TVs greatest sitcoms and the abosolute pricks who produced and starred in these shows ("But how do you really feel?") You'll learn about the writer's life... and the life's writer. By which I mean LOVE. Love of a good woman, love of children and grandchildren. But mostly, and let's be honest, love of a nice fat paycheck.

To finish this first post with the words of a character I once created in a pilot (don't ask the name, it never got on -- the pricks killed it)... "Daddy, that looks like a WHOLE LOT of meatballs." A whole lot of meatballs indeed. And I'm gonna share them all with you.

ENJOY!