"Weird Al" Yankovic: An Interview About Humor
In an exclusive, Humor Boy asks the comic musician about Straight Outta Lynwood, the creative process, laughing, and a certain body part.
Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL
Meet My Pen Pal, "Weird Al" Yankovic!
It was good fortune to swap emails with "Weird Al" this past week, as we Q&A-ed for an article on About.com Humor, which I posted a short while ago. After a self-directed refresher course on his career and comedy, plus repeated listens to the new album, I have nothing but total respect for the fellow. He's quite a story -- and gracious.
Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL
I Didn't See That Coming
One day, last October, around 5 o'clock, I grabbed my jacket, soon to depart for an engagement.
Yeah.
I know people.
I peeked through the kitchen window, where I saw a pair of deer feeding themselves, a few paces outside the door. I went for my camera.
When I returned, one of the animals had vanished. The other remained behind to eat for an additional 20 minutes. I didn't dare disturb the meal.
The deer strolled down our driveway, skipping out on the check. The animal exited through the open gate, which is odd since there is no fence on the property, only a gate. As the deer disappeared from my sight, I turned my head to the left to see a fully-grown black bear approach the feeding place where the deer had been moments before.
Bear visitors aren't common in these parts, although we're always on alert for them and them darn fool revenuers, dagnabbit.
My friends, relatives, and neighbors love to point out that Mikey is Special of the Day on the bear food chain.
That's why I had "BEST IF EATEN BEFORE AUG. 1998" tattooed on my butt.
Actually, I've received conflicting information on black bears' dietary preferences, although my general impression is most of them are herbivores. They will kill humans, nevertheless, if they feel threatened or mistake ear hair for parsley sprigs.
In six years of residence, I had only seen bears on our property four times, including that evening. Three incidents were mere walk-throughs. This particular day was the first occasion I ever saw one stop to eat. He stayed for 20-30 minutes, casually munching, while he pawed hard corn kernels to himself, as if he were collecting poker chips at a gambling table.
Think Bob Hoskins in Vegas.
My cat, Morty, hopped into the window to receive a big surprise. I don't know if he is state-of-the-art on bears, but he was definitely alarmed at the dark, ominous hulk 15 feet away.
I removed Morty from the window. He didn't know whether to bolt and hide under the stairs, or jump back into the window. He jumped. I extracted him again.
I didn't know whether to bolt and hide under the stairs, or jump back into the window. I jumped, but the bear didn't see me, having moved beyond the building. Morty extracted me.
The bear sauntered into the drive and headed towards an old picnic table. It was the pic-a-nik basket cliche in real life, Boo Boo.
In this photo, the beast is sniffing exactly where Donna parks her car. This is also exactly where I resist a comment about a "taxi cub."
He chose to lounge by the well house, near our ironic, wooden welcoming bear. I think the real bear was eyeing my car to see if I might come outside dressed as dessert.
I'm no after-dinner Mike. I ventured out in January, when hibernation season was underway. Sure, I was sleepy, but at least the bear was gone.
Yeah.
I know people.
I peeked through the kitchen window, where I saw a pair of deer feeding themselves, a few paces outside the door. I went for my camera.When I returned, one of the animals had vanished. The other remained behind to eat for an additional 20 minutes. I didn't dare disturb the meal.
The deer strolled down our driveway, skipping out on the check. The animal exited through the open gate, which is odd since there is no fence on the property, only a gate. As the deer disappeared from my sight, I turned my head to the left to see a fully-grown black bear approach the feeding place where the deer had been moments before.
Bear visitors aren't common in these parts, although we're always on alert for them and them darn fool revenuers, dagnabbit.My friends, relatives, and neighbors love to point out that Mikey is Special of the Day on the bear food chain.
That's why I had "BEST IF EATEN BEFORE AUG. 1998" tattooed on my butt.
Actually, I've received conflicting information on black bears' dietary preferences, although my general impression is most of them are herbivores. They will kill humans, nevertheless, if they feel threatened or mistake ear hair for parsley sprigs.
In six years of residence, I had only seen bears on our property four times, including that evening. Three incidents were mere walk-throughs. This particular day was the first occasion I ever saw one stop to eat. He stayed for 20-30 minutes, casually munching, while he pawed hard corn kernels to himself, as if he were collecting poker chips at a gambling table.Think Bob Hoskins in Vegas.
My cat, Morty, hopped into the window to receive a big surprise. I don't know if he is state-of-the-art on bears, but he was definitely alarmed at the dark, ominous hulk 15 feet away.
I removed Morty from the window. He didn't know whether to bolt and hide under the stairs, or jump back into the window. He jumped. I extracted him again.
I didn't know whether to bolt and hide under the stairs, or jump back into the window. I jumped, but the bear didn't see me, having moved beyond the building. Morty extracted me.
The bear sauntered into the drive and headed towards an old picnic table. It was the pic-a-nik basket cliche in real life, Boo Boo.In this photo, the beast is sniffing exactly where Donna parks her car. This is also exactly where I resist a comment about a "taxi cub."
He chose to lounge by the well house, near our ironic, wooden welcoming bear. I think the real bear was eyeing my car to see if I might come outside dressed as dessert.I'm no after-dinner Mike. I ventured out in January, when hibernation season was underway. Sure, I was sleepy, but at least the bear was gone.
Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL
100 Things About Me #74
I Live in a Zoo
There are no windshield spitters in the wilderness. We have pine sap. My car is covered in what the untrained eye would call "Mumps in Rubber Cement."
But that's another story.
We anticipated wildlife in the area when we moved to our simple cabin in the woods -- a few extra rabbits, perhaps, and the sporadic rooster and cow on nearby farmland.Instead, add many more to those species. We've had a non-stop parade of unannounced visitors in our yard: deer, flying squirrels, owls, vultures, s-s-s-snakes, possums, raccoons, hummingbirds, peacocks, turtles, mice, frogs, ducks, turkeys, lizards, toads, and Jehovah's Witnesses to name a few from Thursdays.
I've heard coyotes howling in the dark. We've spotted bears on the lawn. And my neighbor nearly drove his truck into a mountain lion on his way to the mailbox. These situations not only disturb me for safety reasons, but also because giant cats get superior service down at The UPS Store.There is a steady tangled mess of flying insects, too, none of which, apparently, received a memo on the purpose of our big city bug lights.
They wing in nightly for a bright, warm swarm around the yellow porch bulbs. With arms a-flailing, we must clear a path through the air in order to enter the house. On several occasions, I've mistaken my wife for the actress 'Tippi' Hedren, confusing her with similar images from "The Birds."
For some reason, the insects in this rural forest are larger than any we experienced in suburbia. As I type these words, pet Morty eyeballs a moth the size of Seth Green on the windowpane.Quite a coincidence, considering Morty reminds me of Greg the Bunny.
But that's another story.
As soon as The GEICO Gecko appears, our Nature Lotto cards will be filled.
Filed in
100 Things About Me
Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL
Bedrock's Smoking
Barney Rubble and Fred Flintstone make some of that lucrative celebrity endorsement cash in this 1961 commercial for their "The Flintstones'" sponsor, Winston.
Although tasting "good like a cigarette should," Mr. Rubble and Mr. Flintstone are presently deceased.
via "Video Vault Vintage TV Commercials," About Humor
Filed in
Advertising,
Cartoons,
Nostalgia,
TV,
Videos
Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL
Cartoon Carnival
Saturday mornings during my elementary school years were spent at the neighborhood movie theatre. Each week at 11:30, an older film would be shown, preceded by three color cartoons.
We were trapped in the black-and-white TV era amid the late 1950s and early '60s, so seeing familiar animation from the small tube transformed into full big screen splendor was quite a revelation.
I specifically recall the first time I saw Popeye the Sailor's famous spinach in color. The can was red! Who knew?
Those weekly Kiddie Shows rank high among my fondest memories. Even now, I load up the DVDs, making the ritual effort to watch cartoons and a movie on Saturday mornings.
Here's a representative Cartoon Carnival package....
Tom and Jerry in "Cue Ball Cat" (1950)
Popeye in "Taxi-Turvy" (1954)
Bugs Bunny in "Long-Haired Hare" (1949)
We were trapped in the black-and-white TV era amid the late 1950s and early '60s, so seeing familiar animation from the small tube transformed into full big screen splendor was quite a revelation.
I specifically recall the first time I saw Popeye the Sailor's famous spinach in color. The can was red! Who knew?
Those weekly Kiddie Shows rank high among my fondest memories. Even now, I load up the DVDs, making the ritual effort to watch cartoons and a movie on Saturday mornings.
Here's a representative Cartoon Carnival package....
Tom and Jerry in "Cue Ball Cat" (1950)
Popeye in "Taxi-Turvy" (1954)
Bugs Bunny in "Long-Haired Hare" (1949)
Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL
Follow That Bird
Recently, my friend Arnold was discussing character actor Walter Slezak ("Lifeboat," "The Pirate," "The Inspector General") and cited this anecdote about the man's father, found at IMDb:
"He [Walter] was the son of Leo Slezak, operatic tenor (Aug. 18, 1873 - June 1, 1946), later a comedian in Austrian films. Leo Slezak was a famous Lohengrin, and is credited with this story: during one production of the opera 'Lohengrin,' when the mechanical swan that was to carry the hero across the lake malfunctioned and 'floated' off too soon, he was heard to say, 'What time is the next swan?' This quote became the title of Walter Slezak's autobiography."
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