Rebate or Masturbate?

Nowadays we're all being offered rebates as a bonus for buying. BEWARE! It's one more sucker trap to separate consumers from their money. For example, Staples sells a lot of products with bold print trumpeting prices that are lower than their competition. The Staples small print advises a larger price, with the explanation you'll receive a rebate after the purchase.

It all sounds too good to be true. Well, it's true. Sort of. To claim your rebate you have to mail in the receipt and wait weeks. When the "check" arrives it looks like a postcard with perforations and you're about to toss this ad in the refuse. Another look and you realize you were going to throw away the rebate. Many customers do. I almost did, but don't anymore. Why? Because I don't like and I don't want rebates from Staples or any other company.

Quite frankly it is much easier and more enjoyable to masturbate than fill out a form for a rebate. In the former instance, one hazard is a paper cut, especially while going over a PLAYBOY Magazine. A rebate form has serial numbers to fill in. One number I was requested to file, to obtain a $4 rebate from Staples, had 27 digits on the faded receipt. I tried to obtain the numbers with a magnifying glass; no luck. No rebate. No more of my business with Staples!

One more complaint about Staples and all the stores that sell print cartridges for computers. THEY ARE ALL TOO EXPENSIVE. I've tried to fill a used one with ink, to save money on purchasing a new one for my iMac. The result was spilled ink, a stained sweat shirt that cost $5 to have cleaned and I am angry of course.

Finally, computers are wonderful when they work. CHARTER brags how much faster they are. Not so. Mine is slower with CHARTER. Also, when I called Charter tech to find out why my iMac froze and I couldn't get on the Internet, "Mary" in the Philippines, led me through an hour of tutoring that involved unplugging all my connections, waiting for five minutes, and then plugging everything back in. I followed "Mary's" instructions to no avail. And said goodbye to "Mary." BTW my reason for the quotes is that "Mary" is about as American as the Philippine golf pro Amigo Rodrigues.

After thanking "Mary" for her assistance, I looked at my modem that wasn't blinking anymore and I slapped it. VOILA! All my computer lights went on and I was back in action. That's what I've done for years, i.e. when the lawn mower's motor stopped and wouldn't start, I kicked it. The motor began to perk again and lasted for another two years before quitting permanently. Ditto for the kitchen blender. It stopped whirring. I slammed it on the counter and it started up again.

The message here is to use your anger and level it at the offending appliance. Corporal punishment is in once again!

My Encounter With George Plimpton, Editor of The Paris Review

During the early 70's I was appearing on talk shows in Toronto, mainly with Pierre Berton, produced by Elsa Franklin. She had some sort of disagreement with George Plimpton and hired me to prank him with a grand hoax, nothing criminal or physical. And I was to secretly record it on audio tape for verification.

I knew a lot about Plimpton and his amusing escapades....playing quarterback for the Detroit Lions, performing on the triangle with the New York Philharmonic and boxing with Archie Moore, among many others. At the time, his magazine, The Paris Review, was in serious financial difficulty and he was seeking funds to keep it alive.

My plan was to call him, posing as a rich fan and offering to help with a nice sum of money. I used the name Harrison T. Rogers, he answered my phone call and I was invited to have lunch with him at his apartment, on the east side of New York City, the next day. So far so good. I had a tape recorder hidden in my briefcase and an hour for recording this session.

I arrived promptly at 1 pm and George was waiting, with his wife Freddy. They were both quite excited over the sudden, unexpected opportunity to raise some funding from a complete stranger. They never challenged me, we engaged in small talk, lunch was a plate of tasty sandwiches and iced tea. My banter consisted of talking about how I had sold liquid fertilizer (yes, I did that for a few weeks years earlier), made a fortune and sold my formula to Monsanto.

After lunch, we got down to business. George wanted to know how much I could invest and what I wanted in return. I offered to invest $25,000 in exchange for a 25% interest in his magazine forever. He winced at the last condition. George counter offered that percentage for $100,000. I hesitated and said I would have to think it over. Meantime, my watch indicated I only had five minutes before the tape recorder would click and stop recording.

It was time to say goodbye, quickly, which I did. They ushered me to the front door with a hand shake and Freddy planted a kiss on my cheek. I thanked them for their hospitality and took off, with a sigh of relief. As they shut the front door, a loud click came from my briefcase. Wow. close call. Also, I had claimed to have the $25,000 in cash in my brief case. That was foolish. What if George decided to accept my initial offer?

When I reached home, I played the tape for my wife, Jeanne, and we both found ourselves laughing throughout. It was all bold face comedy!  Here I am improvising about liquid fertilizer while George is bragging about The Paris Review and its plans for furure publications with my funds.

After making a copy of the tape cassette, I sent the original to Elsa Franklin in Toronto. She, Pierre Berton and their staff at the CBC station in Toronto found it hilarious. To my knowledge, George Plimpton never learned of the hoax. That's just as well. I felt a bit sheepish about pulling the wool over this sheep's eyes. He was a very talented guy and deserves to rest in peace.

I did write him a note with thanks for lunch and a decision not to invest after all.

To Be Or Not To Be TV

For some reason or other I have been on the low end of the totem pole when pitching a new TV concept to the network moguls. In the early 50's I made a pilot for an hour of music with a small orchestra, jazz pianist Dwike Mitchell and pop singers. It was shown on WPIX-TV in New York City and received excellent reviews in BILLBOARD and VARIETY trade magazines.

But the MAD MEN who controlled content for TV turned thumbs down. They felt that high class music should stay in the concert hall, not on television. Manny Sacks, a programming executive wih NBC called me to have lunch in six months and discuss my  show, "Your Musical Workshop." His secretary kept calling a month before for a later date; this happened seven times. Manny finally died.

Then I thought about entertainment on airlines, showing a movie and listening to old radio shows by Jack Benny, Red Skelton and Milton Berle. Charlie Beard, the CEO of Braniff Airlines, was willing to do a test run between New York City and Dallas. A 16 mm projector would show the Moss Hart World War II feature celebrating our Air Force, "Winged Victory," that was directed by George Cukor. An Ampex machine played back the old comedy radio shows.

Again, great reviews by the trade papers and passengers on the test Braniff run were delighted. But the airlines were dubious. As the marketing director for American Airlines told me in his office, "Travelers want to sleep, read magazines or look out the window. They don't want to be interrupted by music, jokes or read magazines." He then took me by the arm and aggressively escorted me to the elevator.

David Flexer called me with an invitation to have lunch at the "21" Restaurant. He was a young and enterprising chap interested in setting up a company called IN FLIGHT ENTERTAINMENT that would sell movies and radio shows to the airlines. Did I want to join him in business? I was not interested in having a partner in a project that I tried to sell and couldn't. So I turned him down. He forgot to put money in his wallet. I paid the check. The rest is history with IFE.

In the late 50's I made a half-hour pilot called "The Unstable Roundtable" with Buck Henry and a few other eggheads discussing "the role of the dog in society." It was an amusing show but there were no takers. Again, agency "suits" claimed it was too static, needed movement, maybe with ballet dancers or people dancing in Hoola Hoops. I abandoned the idea.

Here is one last failure. It was a half-hour program resembling a Playboy VIP Club, with a jazz band, attractive ladies and some clever banter by an M.C. This pilot would be staged on television, recorded on 35 mm film and then released to theaters, thus providing a cheap way to produce movie shorts.

It almost worked. The World Theater in Columbus, Ohio agreed to show the short subject for a week, because one of the models, Linda Lombard, was a native of Columbus and had graced the full cover of LOOK Magazine. The theater was on the edge of the campus of The Ohio State University, my alma mater where I was a BMOC. But that didn't matter much. Business was good and after all expenses were paid, including advertising, I received a check for $11.00. Say goodbye, and I did.

Finally, I'm not going to recite my crazy experience to produce an off-Broadway revue called, "Safari." You can read all about that roller coaster ride in my book, "How To Thrive On Rejection," and copies are available on the website www.abelraisescain.com

Thanks for ordering and reading.

There Ain't No More Free Lunches

I remember many earlier days when our entire family (three kids and two adults) went to the movies for a dollar. It was the Mu-Wa-Tu Theater in Coshocton, Ohio. The population of 12,000 never changed from year to year because, as Sheriff Holmes said, "Every time a baby is born someone leave town."  And a full meal for our family at the Trinway Diner in Conesville was only $1.50! As Archie Bunker often sang with Edith, "Those Were The Days," with thanks to songwriters Lee Adams and Charles Strouse.

Nowadays, especially in cyberspace, everything and I mean everything is DISINGENUOUS! For example, I just tuned in to a chap who claimed to have lost 81 pounds in a year with his "secret." He then rambled on for ten minutes, reciting the magic of his "mound" that he lost, until I fell asleep. When I woke up a few minutes later, he was still ranting and raving about what he intended to tell me. Well, I said to myself, "fuck you asshole." I lost a pound just listening to this shithead. My solution was to press the delete button. Goodbye snake oil sales pitch.

And so it goes, folks. There ain't no more free lunches. Another example. My wife and I received a dozen invitations to attend free dinners hosted by retirement villages and investment planners. We had some excellent meals and sat through an hour of pitch talk. Then we went home to some late night talk on TV from comedians and soon fell asleep. That was during 2006 and 2012.

Those invitations ended because we never fell prey to the pitches. We did appreciate the free dinners, saving a few hundred dollars in total. Now, we're satisfied to eat at home, having paid for the food and enjoying our mutual company. Mostly small talk and lots of laughs over past achievements. If you want to peek into our dinner talks, view our daughter's and son-in-law's award-winning documentary, "Abel Raises Cain." It's a magnificent embarrassment. You can order a DVD from www.abelraisescain.com

So, beware if the message on your computer or television is too good to be true. The pitchman or pitchwoman has what it takes to take what you've got: YOUR MONEY! Meantime, try to have a nice day.

A Plan To Embarrass Donald Sterling

THE KKK SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA

(SCENARIO)

This is a satire designed to spoof the present NBA bruhaha over Donald Sterling’s racist remarks that continue to reverberate around the world in the media. In addition to his harsh banishment from basketball, and the $2.5 million fine, he needs a healthy kick in the behind. With embarrassment and underlying humor.

The KKK Symphony Orchestra LP will both illuminate and then deflate Sterling’s pompous and outrageous behavior. Especially when he is publicly invited to conduct a Children’s Concert by the KKK Symphony Orchestra during the summer of 2014 in New York City’s Central Park. Complete with fireworks afterwards.

(PRODUCTION)

The orchestra consists of 25 professional musicians in a recording studio. They play a series of Negro Spirituals out of tune and out of rhythm. The conductor speaks with a German accent and is ruthless as he starts and stops the music. There are gun shots as he executes key players: “Oboe player. You made a mistake. Say goodby (GUN SHOT). Flute player. You can play the oboe music because it’s in concert key. I will not allow any transposing in the KKK SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA.”

This musical nonsense will also include a variety of percussion sounds…tambourines, wood block, cowbell, claves, timbales, chimes, bells, xylophone, marimba, gong, triangle, snare drum, bass drum, cymbals and slapstick. All in the spirit of Spike Jones (circa 1944) who entertained millions with his musical comedy hijinks.

On the LP cover, musicians are wearing KKK robes rather than tuxes. The liner notes describe “a kinder, gentler Klan with music to soothe the savage breast.” Also, faux bios on the musicians provide guffaws: “Izzy Goldstein, concertmaster, was recently fired from a major symphony when he was discovered selling cocaine out of his violin case. And George Lincoln Washington, principal bass, formerly sat on the bench of an NBA basketball team for three years before being noticed and dropped from the roster.”

(PROMOTION AND DISTRIBUTION)

Only 200 copies of the KKK SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA LP will be produced and mailed to major media organizations worldwide. However, a website will solicit orders @$19.95 plus handling and shipping. A sample trailer reveals the satire. An offer for distribution, with a substantial advance, is to be explored.

(BUDGET)

25 Musicians @ $400
$10,000

4 hrs. studio + editing
$5,000

Photos, robes, liner notes, 200 LPs, website, postage via priority mail
$7,500

Two Prods. Assistants @ $500 a wk. for 2 wks + $500 for expenses
$2,500

Contingency (20%) Legal contracts, Union fees, Licensing, etc.
$5,000

GRAND TOTAL
$30,000

How To Acquire A Charming Roommate

     My friend George was an artist with a pre-war apartment on the upper westside of New York City during the 60's. It was three rooms with 12 foot ceilings, only $200 a month, including electricity and hot water. Pets allow and George had a cat. But he really wanted an attractive young lady as a roommate and to share the rent.
     I suggested he place an ad in the VILLAGE VOICE as follows:  ROOMMATE WANTED.  Prefer young lady in her 20's without hangups, no pets and one suitcase. $100 a month to share the rent. I work days and only come home to sleep with my cat. No drugs or booze allowed. Call this number after 7 pm.
     George received several dozen calls and spent a weekend holding interviews. He narrowed the potential roommates to 4 who fit his scheme for an attractive roommate and finally chose Emily. She was vivacious, a dancer from Ohio studying ballet in New York and was financed by her parents. Perfect. She moved in the next day. Emily had been living in the Barbizon Hotel for Women and it was overcrowded with unhappy females.
     Emily like to cook and her schedule permitted her to prepare their dinners together. They became like a brother and sister. Within three months she was ready to move out. Emily fell in love with another dancer and they were both gay.
     George was devestated and wanted another roommate. But he didn't want to go through a similar advertising and audition campaign. Did I have another method in mind? Yes I did. He should pretend to be a reporter seeking a story from an attractive young lady sitting on one of the many benches in Central Park.
     He was good at this charade. Notepad in hand, George strolled around the park and located a few girls sitting alone. It took only three interviews and he found another roommate. This one was a charming blonde studying cello at the Juilliard School of Music. Marsha promised to practice only when George was away and could easily handle the rent.
     She had her own bedroom and they occasionally collided at the bathroom door. Marsha had many rehearsals and lessons, so her day ended around 10 pm at night. No chance for dinners together. But she was sexy, they were attracted to one another and there were many weekends in bed together having sex.
     Marsha soon found another lover at school. He was a trumpet major and had a fantastic triple tongue technique when going down on her. She moved in with Hector after six months. George was sad to see her go. But that's live. Back to the drawing board. More ads, more auditions and interviews in Central Park.
     George had a day job with a research company and they offered him a transfer to their London office. That was the last I heard from him. He literally dropped out of my life. I have had several dozen friends like this. For example, the last time I saw Robert Downey, Sr. was in 1981 when I was performing in my one-man show off-Broadway, "Jester At Large."  He attended with his young son, Robert Downey, Jr.
     Fast forward to 2011. Robert, Sr. called from New York City where he was living with his third wife, Rosemary. His offer to have lunch was fulfilled and we picked up the conversation from 30 years ago like it was yesterday. Bob did a lot of bragging about trials and tribulations of Bobby, Jr. that finally led to his being the highest paid actor in Hollywood. And of course Bob picked up the check.

Andy Rooney, R.I.P.

     Back in the early 80's I received a phone call from one of the producers at CBS-TV News. He asked me to hurry down to CBS studios at 524 West 57th Street, and come prepared to audition four two-minute humorous monologues on camera in three hours. Also, don't worry about crossing the picket lines.
     I came prepared. It seems as though the engineers were striking for more money and most CBS employees were ignoring their shouting picket lines. Except for Andy Rooney. He refused to video tape his closing commentary on "60 Minutes" that would air on the weekend, three days away. My long desired opportunity for some fame and a little fortune had now arrived.
     When I approached the picket line, there were several dozen men and women marching on the sidewalk shouting naughty  words about CBS and booing anyone who entered the building. Two NYPD police cars were parked nearby and four uniformed officers stood by silently watching. As I got out of the taxi, one man said loudly, "Hey, that's Alan Abel, the troublemaker hoaxer!" He also added that I shouldn't enter the building and have anything to do with the CBS motherfuckers. I just smiled and walked through the front door.
     I was expected and ushered over to the elevator where an intern took me up to the studio. There, three cameras and crews were waiting for me. I sat in a canvas director's chair and heard the count down from ten. Then, "tape rolling" came out of the director's booth and I began to perform.
     Was I nervous? Not a bit. At the age of 60 I had already done hundreds of interviews on both radio and television. I also spent six months in Chicago with my own nightly two-hour talk show for PLAYBOY during the 60's. I wasn't about to screw up this sudden opportunity!
     Here are excerpts from the four monologues I taped:

1.  All doctors should be forced by law to publish their medical school grade average in the telephone book. That way, we can tell the good ones from the bad. A doctor with an A+ after his name could certainly be trusted for your brain surgery. But the D minus medical man would only be trusted to remove a splinter.

2.  Anyone weighing over 200 pounds must be fined for exhaling too much carbon dioxide, that creates air pollution. And when they sleep in hotel or motel beds, they leave a gully that causes guests to develop curvature of the spine.

3. The South African Medical Journal recently reported that one of their medical researchers has developed a hormone bone grower that can be used to extend a human's shoulder blades three feet.
This revolutionary drug will permit people to flap their blades and fly to and from work. No more expensive gas, traffic jams or truck fumes.

4.  Bald headed advertising is a new way for selling products. For example, Avis tested 2,000 bald men in Denver, with AVIS stenciled on their foreheads, to sit at bus stops and stand at street light crossings. In one day Avis rented every single car they had available.

     As I rattled off this diabribe I noticed news anchor Michele Marsh watching me intently. She was obviously trying to figure out who this verbal maniac was, reciting nonsense on camera. I hope somebody told her. Meantime, when Andy Rooney viewed my audition tape, after sneaking into the CBS building through a back door, he decided to cross the picket line. Oh well, once again that's showbiz.