One of the nice things about a million cable channels and various streaming services is that those entities, combined with a DVR which searches out programs, means you can usually find most anything, especially old tv shows. Case in point, Columbo. Peter Falk played the disheveled detective from 1968 to 2003. 35 years! 

The formula of the show was simple: we see someone orchestrate and commit the would be perfect murder. Unfortunately for them, Lieutenant Columbo has been assigned to the case. Columbo has two things going for him. His rumpled, disorganized appearance constantly makes the killers underestimate him and he’s a very thorough, methodical, inquisitive, persistent and intelligent detective. Columbo would examine each and every detail very closely, pulling on various threads, asking all sorts of questions, usually making a pain in the ass of himself until uncovering the murderer and the evidence he needed to put that person away. And when he knew someone did it but couldn’t *prove* it, he’d often set a trap the killer would fall into, incriminating themselves. I mean, a number of times, the killer really did think of everything, but was too clever or arrogant for their own good and got tripped up by the scruffy sleuth. 

By and large, the scripts were usually top notch and during the show’s heyday in the 1970’s, it boasted the likes of writers like Steven Bochco among others. They had many top stars of the day coming in to play the murderers, like Robert Conrad, William Shatner, Lee Grant, Robert Culp and many more. Mind you, not all of them were winners. “Last salute to the Commodore” was a bizarre, meandering tale of some old sea captain being killed. Directed by the very strange and unpredictable Patrick McGoohan, what made this episode really stand out was the obvious day drinking exhibited by some of the cast during shooting. It got to the point that when everyone was gathered to expose the murderer, several cast members playing extra detectives had to verbally drag the proceedings along while Falk was stumbling amongst the decorative driftwood. My take: Falk, McGoohan and the writer were shit-faced and only with the greatest assistance by added cast members, were they able to get this one in the can. But this was the anomaly. Usually, Columbo ranked among the best written tv around and it had the Emmys to prove it.

It was also part of the regular rotation of the Sunday Mystery movie, a brilliant collection of shows that took turns each week during the season. Columbo shared the time slot with McMillan and Wife, starring Rock Hudson and Susan Saint James and McCloud, starring Dennis Weaver. This would mean that in any season, they’d only have to produce 8 TV movies a year for each franchise and the format was initially very popular. 

After doing the pilot in 1968, the bulk of Columbo’s episodes came in the 1970’s through 45 TV movies in seven seasons, 1971 through 1978, but lived on with another four entries for an 8th season in 1989, another six for a 9th season in 1990, and then a string of 14 specials comprising a 10th season from 1990 to 2003. 

In these later seasons, yes there were a couple clunkers and in a *few* cases, it seemed like the best he could get the murderers on was circumstantial evidence that any decent lawyer could make go away. Still, by and large, always a treat, seeing Columbo running through his process, taking down these arrogant killers who often made that one, tiny mistake that eventually does them in. 

The detective himself was a pile of quirks and idiosyncrasies which formed the character. He’d show up to murder scenes in the wee hours of the morning, obviously having been pulled straight out of bed and only half awake, asking for coffee, sometimes with a hard boiled egg or two in his pocket so he could grab a quick bite while he ambled around. He’d sometimes bring his basset hound with him, leaving the mutt in his car while he visited the scene. He usually had a cigar going at all times, had various notes and other paperwork stuffed into his trench coat or other pockets. He was unkempt at the best of times and drove around a dilapidated 1960 Peugeot. He was literally a mess at all times and the murderers always took him for granted, until he nabbed them.

Thanks to the Hallmark Mystery channel, I’m currently in the home stretch of watching the last 6 eps from the show’s run. I’m curious to see how the quality holds up as far as the writing goes. The last six stretch out over a final decade, ’94 to ’03 and Falk was in his early 70’s by the end. Evidently, he was so good, the force never let the man retire! Sadly, the great man passed in 2011.

Falk had great range and a great career in movies (It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World, The Great Race, Anzio, The In-Laws, The Princess Bride) and tv but he was best known as the lovable, rumpled detective. 

Two extra bits:

1. Although we never saw his wife in the show, she was always mentioned. But somebody did eventually do a show called “Mrs. Columbo” starring Kate Mulgrew, who was completely wrong for the part, being absolutely nothing like Columbo had described her over the years, along with her being half his age. Thankfully, the show didn’t last long and was pretty much forgotten. 
2. We never officially knew his first name, as he never gave it. However, waaaaaay back in the first season, (episode three, “Dead Weight”), in one scene, he flashes his badge and if you look closely at the ID, you can see his signature, and that his first name was

Buckle up–I’m going with the flow on this one.

Pretty much anytime I see a heartfelt father and son moment on tv or in the movies, odds are, there’ll be waterworks at some level. It could even be an old man and a boy as in grandfather/grandson. Same cause and effect. Emotion. It doesn’t take a brainiac to figure out that I react that way because of the bizarre/nonexistent relationship I had with my father. What could have been and should have been but wasn’t. 

I’d once heard that your relationship with God mirrors your relationship with your father. But I’m an agnostic, so I kind of keep an open mind. Perhaps you might think I’d be an atheist since dad left or was booted out when I was two and never met him, but no, it gets weird. 

He was around. 

He sometimes visited his brother, my uncle, and his family in Worth. And *I* quite often visited that family after mom and I moved close by. See, my mom and I *had* lived with my grandparents in Oak Lawn after my folks split up, so I in effect had three parents from age two through ten. BUT, we had to move to Worth after my grandpa retired and my grandparents moved away to Florida. 10 year old me was very angry that two of my three parents were leaving me and I even defaced an expensive table in protest. Point was, I was always over there at my cousins house, but he would visit the family as well, so there had to be a concerted effort to keep he and I apart. (?) But it gets weirder. 

A few years later, there was a big party (graduation?) for my older cousin, I guess. I don’t remember the purpose of the get together, only that both my father and I were there. Quite often probably only feet apart. He was right there. I could go up and hug him if I wanted to but I didn’t. He was a stranger. He was there with his then girlfriend or wife. She sat near my mother and they probably chatted over lunch. Damn near everyone at the party had to be aware that Dick Lundeen’s kid was Right. Over. There. No one said anything about it (that I heard, anyway). I steadfastly avoided him for couple of hours. It wasn’t a big house or a big yard and if I brushed past him at any point or came into direct physical contact when moving about, I have no memory of it. 

The last time I saw him, he was leaving the party with his wife, ambling down the sidewalk. His one leg was badly bowed outward as he walked. I later found out he once had a broken leg and didn’t let it heal properly. If you’re wondering why he never approached me at the party, I later found out that –allegedly– his brain was so addled with booze, instead of realizing I was a teenager, he somehow still thought I was an infant, the same age as when he left. I don’t even know if that was true or just some bullshit to maybe try and make me feel “better” about him ignoring me. No idea. 

Years later, my uncle died and my father was probably at the wake the same time as I was. I have this recollection (or was it a dream) of my cousin pointing out my father to me, as if to say, here’s your chance. Go to him. But I didn’t. Did he know I was there? Did he still think I was an infant? Did he care? I don’t know. I’ll never know because I never made the attempt. Neither did he. Maybe that’s on me because at that point, I believe I was an adult by then, at least 21.

A couple years later, the phone rings. It’s my mom telling me that she thought I should know that my father was on his death bed. The guy who left when I was two, the guy I never heard much of anything about– nothing good anyway– the guy who never wanted to connect with me, the guy I didn’t know, was on his death bed. I responded to my mom that I never really met the guy so what am I supposed to think or care? “Well,” she said, “I thought you should know he’s not expected to make it through the night.” And that’s how we left it. 

Couple years later, Vic gives me condolences that my father died. I said he died years ago. Turns out that he got better, mom forgot to tell me. So he died again. No idea how or why or where. 30 years go by. When I was diagnosed with cancer and the docs wanted to know family history, I never knew of any history, although it eventually came out that my uncle had lymphoma. As for my father, total mystery as usual. All we found out was that he had moved to Washington state but no idea about the cause of death, as his wife didn’t give any details when she called my aunt. 

Oh, and we have no idea if my father had any other kids, so no clue on any other sisters or brothers. 

So, yeah. The only other tidbits I knew about him:

He was a drunk

He used to work over at that US 30 drag-strip place

He once punched a cop

And I believe I have covered the entirety of my relationship with my father. 

Probably a rather informative piece of the puzzle that is me. 

In the meantime, I’d like to *think* I’m a decent dad. Acceptable at the very least. 

I would say better than my dad was anyway, though admittedly, that bar was set incredibly low. 

Sorry — felt like putting a photo up.

Sooooo many times, me and my brethren at the ***** ****** (sorry, top secret) have ranked the Marvel movies and with each film that’s come out, the list gets crazier and bulkier. Since I love lists — although I’m finding maybe not quite as much as I used to– I figured I’d put up my MCU list, but pepper in a ton of other superhero films to see where they compare when inserted into the competition. Many will disagree but no one agrees totally with anyone else’s list anyway. I’ll just say many factors came into play but this is my list. the non- MCU films are signified by an asterisk because. Oh, and if I missed one or two, I really don’t care because it either doesn’t belong on the list or would rank low on the list anyway, or maybe it’s a different genre other than superhero yada yada yada. The list is big enough and I had to go back in like a dozen times. Here goes:

Winter Soldier

Infinity War

Endgame 

Civil War

Avengers

Captain America: The First Avenger

*Incredibles

*Superman 1 and 2

*Spider-man 2

Dark Knight

Ironman 

*Spider-man 1

Deadpool

GOTG 1

GOTG 2

Deadpool 2

Batman ’89

Spider-man: Homecoming 

*X-men 2

*X-men DOFP

Iron man 3

Ant-man

Incredible Hulk

*X-men First Class

Iron man 2

*Watchmen

*Batman ’66

Ragnarok 

*Logan

Dr. Strange

*Wonder Woman

*Fantastic Four 2005

Wolverine: Origins

Far From Home

Ant-man and the Wasp

Age of Ultron

*FF: Rise of the Silver Surfer

*The Wolverine

*Incredibles 2

Dark World

*X-men the Last Stand

*Man of Steel

*Dark Knight Rises

*Batman Returns

Thor 

*X-men

*BVS

*Justice League

*Green Lantern

*X-men Apocalypse

Captain Marvel

Black Panther

*Spider-man 3

*Fantastic Four -Corman

*Aquaman

*Superman 3

*Batman Forever

*Amazing Spider-man

*Amazing Spider-man 2

*Fantastic Four 2015

*Batman and Robin

*Superman IV: the Quest for Peace

*The Spirit

My thanks to Sheena McNeil for taking time to review M&M, here’s The Link…

http://sequentialtart.com/reports.php?ID=11716&issue=2020-02-24

Not bad.

Another well done…. well actually another well done set up story. It’s very different from doing just A Good Story, which has a beginning, a middle and an end. 

Anyway, I think, pretty much top to bottom, that was a solid Doctor Who episode. Did my jaw drop and did it keep me on the edge of my seat? No, but it did keep me interested and I thought for once, the TARDIS crew    acquitted themselves pretty well. And honestly, since this is the *fifth* set up episode out of a ten ep series, with no pay offs yet to be tendered, there’s only so much of it that’s *eligible* for critique. The most important elements to me, as always is the Doctor and companions in relation to the story. This particular story being yet another prelude, I have to focus more on the TARDIS crew. But as for what this story *did* give us…

I mean, last human colony, desperate times, desperate measures, thousands of dead Cybermen, thousands of dormant Cybermen, the lone Cyberman, the crew gets separated, basically a lot of urgency to grease the tracks and move things along quickly getting ready for next week. Then Gallifrey shows up and so does Nutty McMaster uttering cliches. 

On to the crew: 

Ryan. Since he’s leaving the show, I thought for sure he was a dead man early on when he bumbled right when he should have bumbled left. Then he was found by the Doctor and was basically Yaz for the rest of the ep, just decorating the corner being useless. 

Yaz and Graham. This may have been the best acting I’ve seen from Gil so far and this was a rare instance where Chibs seemed to not do too badly with character interaction, at least on the escape ship anyway. And Graham was even getting hit on, which, since subtlety is never Chib’s strong suit, we might get a Leela/Andred pairing here next week. Heck, we might SEE Leela and Andred next week! 

The Doctor. I have to give credit where credit’s due here. The Doctor has often been a careless jerk when it comes to the “fam” and in a burst of self realization, she owned up this week and admitted it, *finally* doing what she should have done last week and told them to get the hell out of there. Way way way too late of course but, eh. I can’t even say better late than never because they’re all in horrific danger now. But over all, aside from her small, wacky asides, Jodie’s best when she’s intense and the threat levels this week kept her very Doctorish in a good way. 

And Brandon. When the ep began, and I started to watch this kid grow up, I thought oh man, this was going to be a tear jerking, heart string pulling, emotional one two punch… but no, I never did get attached to him and then he got old and somehow, his dad putting him in the conversion chair wasn’t even that powerful a moment. More of a head scratcher. We have car commercials that reduce me to tears in under 60 seconds when they show kids growing up and moving away (since I have kids) but here…. nothing. Maybe they’ll pay that off next week, along with Gallifrey, the Master, Doc Martin, the Cyberium plan, the Timeless Child and how everything we know is a lie and how this changes everything. 

Basically, we’ve been seeing trailers, prologues, appetizers and previews all series. Next week, Chibs will have to give us the main event, main course, you name it. Because if next week is just another set up stringing us along for next season, I’m not going to be happy. 

Finally, theory corner. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s thinking that perhaps a sizable chunk of human civilization went through that gateway, the other side of which will turn out to be billions of years ago on what would one day be known as Gallifrey, and it’ll turn out that Time Lords are descended from humans. 

I gotta say, yes, that *would* change everything and I would absolutely love it. If true, it’d be the biggest, ballsiest, gutsiest move maybe ever. 

I wonder if Chibs is the one who actually thought of it? 

Sunday sees the premiere of Better Call Saul season 5. It’s about time. It’s been a year and a half since season 4. It’s been a slow boil, watching the tortuous process of Jimmy McGill (Bob Odenkirk) transforming into Saul Goodman. It hasn’t been easy because we know what’s coming and what Jimmy becomes. 

With Walt, we looked on in fascination as he became Heisenberg, unlocking the anger, brilliance, danger and arrogance that existed within for decades. Turning Mr. chips into Scarface.

When we met Saul in season two of Breaking Bad, he was a sleaze ball criminal lawyer. Entertaining as all hell and you had to love him but he was a sleaze ball. Seeing how he started out, his circumstances, how hard he worked to get his law degree, pass the bar, all to be sabotaged by his brother Chuck, one big bag of disingenuous, patronizing, duplicitous ugliness with issues, who treated Jimmy horribly. And all while Jimmy was basically his care giver for years. Thanks to Chuck, the system got stacked against Jimmy and the end result was, that to actually survive and get his head above water, Jimmy gamed the system. He utilized the tricks from his earlier life as “Slippin’ Jimmy”, back when he was a scam artist as a kid. Playing by the rules over the years just kept ending up with Jimmy getting kicked in the face, so, never being one to really ever get mad, Jimmy got even. He went back to what he liked, what was comfortable, what he was GOOD at, gettin’ one over on the man, thumbing his nose at authority, workin’ the angles. He truly became Saul Goodman.

Oh, and then there’s the whole other half of this show. Mike. Over the last four seasons/40 episodes, we’ve seen how the ex cop and parking attendant, played by Jonathan Banks signed on with Gustavo Fring (Giancarlo Esposito) as a hired gun. 

So far, the only familiar guests we’ve seen have primarily been from the Salamanca family, with Hector, Tuco and the twins checking in along the way, as the story lines of Jimmy, Mike and Gus all continue down the path toward the events of Breaking Bad. 

According to the trailer on AMC, as season five begins, it seems that Saul is truly open for business and Mike is going to be entrenched in his position with Gus. Plus, it looks like a certain DEA agent we know and love will be making a guest appearance this year.

But as events funnel toward their inevitable conclusion, we must recognize the one sacrificial lamb, Kim Wexler (Rhea Seahorn). She’d been Jimmy’s friend, confidante, associate, advocate, partner and lover. As far as we can tell, by the time we meet Saul in BB, she doesn’t seem to be in his life any more, so that scenario may be resolved this season. It seemed to me like they were little more than friends with benefits when it came to their intimate relationship. I never sensed any chemistry there. Now whether that’s by design, because of quirks in their character’s natures or the actors simply don’t have that type of chemistry, I can’t say for sure but with this show and these producers, they usually always do things for a reason. Them ending their relationship would definitely be severing the last tie to the existence of Jimmy McGill. 

Lastly, AMC does have a reputation for stringing out finales. They worked with Vince Gilligan to take Breaking Bad ‘s fifth season and instead of doing 13 eps, they broke it up into two shorter 8 ep seasons. Mind you, this worked beautifully, even though it was an agonizing year’s wait for those last 8 eps. AMC also tried that with Mad men and kinda screwed the pooch, but that’s a different blog post.

With BCS, up until now, each season had been 10 eps but this one is allegedly 8. This leads me to believe that there will be a sixth and final season that might also be 8 eps. Considering the opening scene at the start of each season so far has been black and white flash forward sequences, it seems as though the producers might be giving us two series finales. One ending with Walt walking in the door and maybe the other in present day/flash forward. I have no idea but I trust the gang.

It’s going to be a very interesting season…..

I’m dragging the garbage bins out to the curb for pick up the following day. As I pass the sidewalk, I notice three people, and one is taking a picture of the other two. I realize that I’ve mistakenly photobombed the couple. I’m about to apologize when three things happen in quick succession. 

1. I felt an odd chill, as if my soul had left my body, which makes me think about the old Inca curse– that if someone takes a picture of you they steal your soul. I *think* it was an old Inca curse but then again, they couldn’t have had cameras back then, so who am I thinking of?
2. I happen to notice that all three people are wearing authentic Inca garb — complete with GIANT headdresses and trying to nonchalantly walk away. One of them — interestingly, was blonde. 
3. I noticed my soul jogging over to be with them, so it could jump into the camera. 

I put the pieces together in my head and realized they were Faux Inca Soul Hackers or FISH. You know I’d *heard* Faux Inca Soul Hackers were common in these parts but you think it can never happen to you, you know? 

Anyway, instead of yelling after them, probably causing them to rabbit, I just reached inside the bin and pulled out a medium sized Hefty bag of garbage. One with some weight to it, maybe something leaky. I twirled the black bag overhead, round and round and launched it in their direction. Impossible to miss the headdresses and they were over-balanced with those things to begin with. So they went down in a heap. I strolled over and smashed any and all devices they had, including their cell phones, Polaroids, augers, sextons and encephalograph pumps. My soul, having nowhere else to go, zipped back to me and I felt it’s warmth. Solid. 

Just to make sure they learned their lesson, I also disemboweled them, as the wolves were near. 

Side note: it might be aged Peruvians who fear the camera, not sure. How do you stop this kind of thing from happening to you? I really don’t know, call LifeLock or something. 

Good luck. 

It was the middle of the night and I was straining my brain trying to think of the last name of the famous painter associated with doing the Saturday Evening Post covers forever. Yes of COURSE you immediately respond “Norman Rockwell!” much like my wife did immediately upon waking the next morning, which was no help to me hours earlier. No, although I remembered Norman, I could not for the life of me remember Rockwell. I could see his painting style in my head, the one where he’s looking at and painting himself, etc. Norman…..Norman….

It’s at this point that I started going down the alphabet hoping that the correct starting letter jars the sluggish stool that is my memory loose. Went through like three times and best I could figure was that when I got around “R”, “S” and “T”, in that zone, it was literally taunting me as the answer tap danced on the tip of my tongue.

I actually fell back asleep, and then when I woke up again, got all frustrated because I remembered I couldn’t remember the last name. 

Just look it up in the morning, I told myself. What if I forget? Why do I care?!?! What brought this up?!?! Did it first occur to me in a dream and I got so frustrated I woke up to find answers? I don’t remember. I just remember laying there contemplating reaching for the iPad at 4am to find out. The internet was a foot away. NO, says I (for idiot), you can do this. 

Lo and behold, it came to me then BOOM. Rockwell. The FLOOD of relief that washed through me was wonderful. Having accomplished my pointless mission, I once again fell asleep. 

Still have no idea why I needed to remember his name. It’s been a couple days, and still no idea. I guess the obvious reason would be “Be a better artist..”

Love his stuff though. 

One of the finest crackers, nay, THE finest cracker in the land is a Ritz cracker. I have decreed it, thus is it so. This scrumptious, buttery, salted, crispy delight with the scalloped edge is just as lovely a cracker now as it was when I was a kid. 

Now be wary….Ritz is Latin for “excellence” probably but do not make the rookie mistake of thinking it’s a dipping cracker. No, no, no. Attempting to plow a Ritz through some thick dip is asking for disappointment and crumbling. You want a dipping workhorse, go get an industrial chip of some sort designed for that experience.

Oh, I’m sure I could look up recipes for interesting things to put on these small slices of baked perfection, but it really doesn’t matter. Anything you might want to put on any cracker anywhere…. you can put that on a Ritz.

But of all the myriad concoctions, cheeses, spices, meats, fruit or veggies one might consider, I admit I go with the same reliable one I’ve always gone with. Peanut butter on the Ritz with a glass of milk. 

It’s rare that we actually get Ritz but we’re in a Ritz cycle right now.

It’s a good cycle. 

Bahdoo, bahdoo, bah do Doo do, do do do DOO

Everybody now!

I’ve always loved The Wild Wild West tv show. I was probably 4 or 5 years old when I started watching three very important, pivotal shows in my life. One was Batman, starring Adam West and Burt Ward, another was Star Trek, where I was first introduced to the Shat and the third was The Wild Wild West, with Robert Conrad as James West and Ross Martin as Artemis Gordon. 

TWWW was a very unique and imaginative show in that even though it took place in the 1870’s, it was half James Bond/spy stuff, half fantastic science fiction. West and Gordon were a two man team who worked for the Secret Service and reported directly to the President of the United States, Ulysses S. Grant. Jim West was the man of action, the enforcer, the muscle. An accomplished fighter but also had a keen, strategic mind. Artemis Gordon was accomplished at theatrics, traps and a master of disguise. And these two traveled the country in their own private train and arsenal, where they lived and operated out of. They battled mad genius dwarves, enemies with super powers, robots, ghosts, enemy agents, you name it.

How much did the show effect me? Well, to this day, whenever I have just about any task to do, that “mission” music theme plays in my head. Bahdoo, bahdoo, bah do Doo do, do do do DOO. It’s been stuck in there for 50 years and it’s not going away anytime soon. 

As much as I enjoyed the show, the iconic opening was always fascinating to me. This animated opening focused on five panels onscreen. The center panel focused on a cowboy, which had to “deal” with the situations occurring in the panels surrounding him. A bandit brandishing a weapon is backing out of a bank in the left panel, having robbed it, only to back right into the cowboy who provides a CHOP to the back of his neck, disposing of him. In the upper right corner, we see a cheating hand reach for a playing card in his boot, but the cowboy pulls a gun on him, forces him to drop the card. The hand in the top left panel then pulls a gun on the cowboy, who has to throw his hands up, dropping his six shooter. He then ejects a small pistol from his sleeve and dispatches the killer up top and the hand goes limp. Finally, the lovely lady in the right panel waltzes into his arms and kisses the cowboy. She then pulls a dagger, but before she can act, he belts her one. She drops, he tips his hat and waltzes off, cue the titles, accompanied by one of the greatest theme songs ever. 

Now what they did was, during each episode, there’d usually be a few cliffhangers going into the commercial break and they’d freeze frame the image going into the break and that image would fill one of the frames surrounding the cowboy. By the ep’s end, all four would fill up. 

This always fascinated me. It was a broad stroke approach to Sequential art, throwing key frames out there from the story. So of course, as a tot, I would always be drawing that iconic frame set up, but with visuals of my own. It just really fascinated me. Still does.

Robert Conrad had a long career but was best known for his role as Jim West. He passed away recently at age 85. I decided to try and honor the man and the character by going back to that beloved opening one more time for a goodbye. I also figured I’d make it available on Red bubble as a print and other versions. 

R.I.P. Agent West.

https://fineartamerica.com/featured/wild-west-goodbye-rick-lundeen.html