Celebrity Photos: The Class of 2010

When I say that 2010 was my best year in celebrity photos, know that it is the truth and not hyperbole.

Don't believe me? Consider this:

*This was the first year in which there was a four-way split in the Sigman Holiday Greeting. It was simply not possible to narrow down the crop to just two. There has been no such problem in previous years, and I suspect the four-way split may never happen again. We are living in blessed times.

*Thinking that I was going with the usual two-way split, I declared the Sigman Holiday Greeting done by the end of February, a marked contrast to 2009, when I didn't have any real strong contenders until November.

*My three personal favorite photos didn't even make it into the four-way split (mainly because I suspect most recipients wouldn't know the celebrity photos; I'm a man of the people). That's right: it could've been a seven-way split. Ponder that.

And while you're pondering, check out the Class of 2010, separated this year by category because it's just too damn hard to rank them.

Childhood Heroes (and Villain)

Jim Martin, the puppeteer behind (underneath?) "The Great Space Coaster"'s Gary Gnu, Javits Center, NYC



Perhaps you don't know who Jim Martin is. I didn't until I looked at the list of celebrity guests for the New York Comic Con a little closer. Then I discovered that he was Gary Gnu, one of my early journalistic heroes from the kids' show "The Great Space Coaster." Here's a sample of one of Mr. Gnu's gnewscasts:



After waiting on the seemingly endless line to get in to the Comic Con and then staggering around the convention floor in a sea of geeks and perverts, I got to Mr. Martin just in time to get the last available Gary Gnu shirt from Mr. Martin (with proceeds going to the ToonSeum, which sounds like my kind of place). And then we posed for the picture. Gneedless to say, it was a thrill.

David Newell, a/k/a Mr. McFeely from "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood," Javits Center, NYC


Also at the ToonSeum table was the Speedy Delivery guy himself, David Newell, better known as Mr. McFeely. He was quite amiable and probably would've signed autographs for every person I knew if I asked him to. But there was a line, and I figured it would be best if I just kept it to me and my sister.

I must confess I was a little bummed he wasn't wearing the postman outfit. He could've at least worn the hat, or glued on a mustache or something. Just saying.

Baron Von Raschke, Rahway Recreation Center, Rahway, NJ


I was going for a look here, and I don't think I got it.

But I loved the Baron back in the days of Pro Wrestling USA on WPIX, which I used to tape on my audio tape recorder before we got a VCR. And Baron's claw was my dad's go-to move when I would start wrestling with him. My dad saved the claw until he grew tired of my armbars and headlocks, because he knew once he applied it, I'd start crying and he could have his weekend back again. So this one's for you, Dad.

Sgt. Slaughter and the Iron Sheik, Rahway Recreation Center, Rahway, NJ


The original plan was to get photos with the Baron, Abdullah the Butcher, and Sgt. Slaughter, but while I was on line, I noticed that Abdullah didn't look particularly pleased to be there and, more importantly, wasn't offering his "fork in the forehead" photo op (I heard later that if you brought your own fork and threw in some extra cash, the photo could be yours). So I called an audible and decided to use the photo ticket I'd bought for Abdullah for a double shot with Sarge and the Iron Sheik. And, boy, am I glad I did. This one's an all-time classic. In retrospect, I probably could've gotten away with this on the Holiday Greeting, but I don't know that most people have the knowledge of old wrestlers that I do. To be honest, I kind of hope they don't.

Sports

Bob Nystrom (and retired journalist Bryan Chambala), New York State Fairgrounds, Syracuse, NY


Retired journalist Chambala and I were wandering around the infield/rink level before the AHL Outdoor Classic when I looked to my right and saw New York Islander legend and all-around swell guy Bob Nystrom. So we talked hockey for awhile as I tried to revive my camera, which I did just in time for this photo and a photo of just Mr. Chambala and Mr. Nystrom. It was a good start to a fun (and kind of cold) day in Syracuse.

Wally Backman, Brooklyn Cyclones Team Store, Brooklyn, NY



I don't particularly enjoy waking up early on a Sunday morning for a 90-minute-plus train ride, but I did it for one of my all-time favorite Mets, Wally Backman. I got there late and almost missed him, as he had to duck out before his scheduled departure for some reason. And it took two tries to get a usable photo. But I would not be denied.

Every retired ballplayer should look like Wally Backman.


Ralph Kiner, Steiner Sports Store, NYC


OK, Ralphie's not looking so hot these days. And his time in the Mets' broadcast booth gets briefer (and a little sadder) every year. But he's a Hall of Famer, an underrated power hitter, and the former host of the greatest postgame show in baseball history. So getting a photo with him was an honor.

Billy Smith, Hofstra University, Hempstead, NY


Smith was the last of the Islanders Hall of Famers that I hadn't met. So I was happy to see his name on the autograph lineup for a baseball card show in Long Island. It was another early-Sunday-morning departure that was painful at rising but rewarding by sundown. And Mr. Smith looks like he would still be quite happy to chop away at your knees and ankles. He's the greatest Islanders goalie of all time, which isn't a particularly lofty designation, but I hold out hope that someday he'll get some competition for the honor.

Should've followed Mr. Smith's lead and kept the hat on for this one.

Music

Nick Feldman and Jack Hues of Wang Chung, BB King's, NYC


What's better than a free ticket to see Wang Chung? A chance to get a picture with them afterward. And the show was good, dammit. For real. And, for the record, "Dance Hall Days" is far superior to "Everybody Have Fun Tonight."

Andy Kim, Sheraton Meadowlands, East Rutherford, NJ



I have been to a lot of sad conventions in my time (and I'm certain I will be at a lot more), but Rock Con on opening night might've been the saddest of the lot. There were more autograph guests there than fans, and other than a few big names (Little Anthony, Mary Wilson from the Supremes, Al Jardine from the Beach Boys, Tommy James), it wasn't exactly a high-wattage array of musical lights. My main reason for going, Johnny Farina of Santo and Johnny, wasn't around Friday night (which was the only day I could go), which meant that if I didn't leave with a picture with Mr. "Rock Me Gently" himself, I had dragged my ass to the convention for no reason. Unfortunately, since Mr. Kim wasn't doing much business, he was going around to talk to the other guests, so I had to keep going back to his table to see if he returned. Finally, after about a half-hour of checking (during which I bought a snazzy "Rock Me Gently" t-shirt), my mission was accomplished. After the photo, he told me to e-mail it to him and we could chat further. I've yet to do that.

Marty Stuart, Public Theatre Lobby, NYC


No, that's not Andy Kim's dad. It's country music's Marty Stuart, who finishes third in this year's Prettiest Lady contest. I keed. He puts on a good show. And he's an autograph and memorabilia collector, too. So he's probably putting together one of these lists right now, too. Or writing songs. Or teasing his hair.

Kathleen Edwards, Stephen Talkhouse, Amagansett, NY


My second photo (thanks, Johnny!) with the excellent musician and the best-looking hockey fan I know, Kathleen Edwards. It also serves as documentation of what will likely be my only trip to the Hamptons. They looked at us funny when we played Wiffle Ball on the village green before the show. Snobs.

Huey Lewis, Bell House, Brooklyn, NY (***OFFICIAL SIGMAN HOLIDAY GREETING SELECTION***)



The most random celebrity encounter of the year. I was milling about after the Nick Lowe show deciding if I wanted to stick around to have Mr. Lowe sign my "The Rose of England" LP. I was exhausted and ready to head out when I saw a crowd of people lingering by the soundboard when what to my wondering eyes should appear but Huey Lewis! And guess who produced one song and played on "The Rose of England"? I hope you guessed "Huey Lewis," because it was sort of obvious that was the answer. So I asked him to sign the record and then passed my camera to a hipster to take the picture. Score!

Unfortunately, once I got Mr. Lewis to sign the album, I felt obligated to wait for Mr. Lowe, lest I be the only owner of a Nick Lowe album signed by Huey Lewis. And that wound up being a long wait, through no fault of Mr. Lowe, who apologized profusely for making us wait.

My beard's a little out of control here, but a completely unexpected photo with Huey Lewis while wearing a Giants hat (he's a Giants fan, don't you know?) is one for the ages.

Mojo Nixon, BB King's, NYC


I suppose the big guest-star news at the Peter Rowan/Steep Canyon Rangers/Elizabeth Cook show was that Steve Martin showed up to play with the Steep Canyon Rangers. But the more exciting news for me was going up to check out Elizabeth Cook's merch and seeing Mojo Nixon, hero and inspiration for Buzzsaw (Haircut) (a magazine I helped found and fund more than a decade ago), walk through the door. I knew he was in town to do some shows for Sirius XM (listen to him Monday-Friday on Outlaw Country, provided you don't have kids with you), so I thought he might come by to see Ms. Cook, his fellow Outlaw Country DJ. So it wasn't a total surprise, though I did need a few seconds to compose myself. When I did, I told him about the magazine and how he had met two of the other founders years ago. To my shock, he actually remembered (he didn't exactly recall where it was, but knew it was near "one of those Yankee colleges"). I wouldn't have bet on that.

When he went to the bar downstairs, I seized my opportunity for a photo and asked Sirius XM's Jeremy Tepper to take the photo. This was the second shot, after Jeremy told Mojo he needed to smile. So that's what we got. I can't tell you how exciting this was for me. If anyone other than the Buzzsaw (Haircut) founders and a few others knew of Mojo (and his monster hit "Tie My Pecker to My Leg"), this would've been the only photo on the Greeting this year. But it takes its place near the top of my All-Time Favorite Celebrity Photos list.

Various Celebrities

Mario Lopez, Columbus Circle Borders, NYC


My second photo with AC Slater. We chatted for awhile about my Bayside Tigers t-shirt, in what I assume was his way of sussing out if I was a lunatic. I think I passed the test.

Trivia fact: This was taken on the same day as the Ralph Kiner photo.


Shenae Grimes, some street in NYC as part of Fashion's Night Out, NYC


I had to work for my first-ever photo with a Degrassi cast member. When I arrived, there was a healthy gathering of teenage girls in front of Ms. Grimes, and I briefly wondered if it looked creepy that there was a 33-year-old guy in a crowd of young girls. And then I realized it was, but decided to persevere anyway.

I let all the girls get their pictures done first, which, in retrospect, made me look more creepy, because now I was a 33-year-old guy just standing there watching young girls take their picture with Ms. Grimes. If security came over and tackled me, I would've understood. To make matters worse, there were several photographers taking pictures of the scene. So I imagine in some teen fashion magazine somewhere, there's a picture of me in a sea of teenage girls. Well, there's a first time for everything.

Anyway, after waiting patiently, I finally found my opening after a woman older than I stepped up to talk to Ms. Grimes. Sensing the age barrier had been broken, I asked for the photo and, since I felt I needed to justify my presence, I told Ms. Grimes, "I'm probably too old to say this, but I'm a big Degrassi fan."

"Oh, c'mon, there's no such things as too old," she replied.

"Yeah, there kinda is," I said, and then headed to the John Prine show, which was probably lacking any Degrassi fans.

Gary Busey, Crowne Plaza, Cherry Hill, NJ (***OFFICIAL SIGMAN HOLIDAY GREETING SELECTION***)


As discussed previously. It's always a thrill to meet a Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer, even if it wasn't the best photo of the day, which, of course, is...

Eric Roberts, Crowne Plaza, Cherry Hill, NJ


Hard to believe he's on Celebrity Rehab now. Goes to show you never can tell. Or that you always can tell. One of those two.

The Bradys

Susan Olsen, Lincoln Square Barnes & Noble, NYC


This will forever be known as the Year of the Bradys, when I completed my mission to meet the surviving members of The Brady Bunch. It does rankle me a bit that anyone on the East Coast could've started the mission in February of this year and only be one away, but, hey, they haven't met Marcia. Or Alice (sadly, no photo with, and that probably aint happening). Or, for that matter, Cousin Oliver. This guy has.

I'm not sure why I decided to hop on the desk for my photo here, but I think it works in an odd way. This photo is also historic because it marks my last celebrity meet at the Lincoln Square Barnes & Noble, where I met Elmore Leonard, Dan Aykroyd, Steve Martin, Elmore Leonard, and Muhammad Ali, among others. The store is set to close in early January 2011. I went in there last weekend and left pretty sad. It was a fine bookstore. Screw you and your Kindle.


Mike Lookinland, Hotel Pennsylvania, NYC


My last Brady. A big moment. I wasn't going to get the solo photo (see below for the other shot), but I figured I ought to, so I laid down the extra $20. Before this photo, I had to pretend I was excited to hear that he was a Deadhead. It wasn't easy, but I did it, because he's a Brady and he doesn't need me telling him why Jerry Garcia stinks.

Eve Plumb, GINA Gallery, NYC


I was a little nervous going to the gallery opening for Eve Plumb's art exhibit, because I figured it'd be easy for her to decipher that I was not there to see her paintings at all. And when I tried to engage her in conversation about her art, I believe I figured correctly. But that was after this picture was taken, so it was all good. I tried to get another photo afterward because I couldn't tell if this one looked OK on my camera, but they were worse than this one.

I did hang around and check out all the art, Plumb and otherwise, in the gallery and liked quite a few of the pieces. So, see, I'm totally cultured and stuff.

Florence Henderson, Joe's Pub, NYC (***OFFICIAL SIGMAN HOLIDAY GREETING SELECTION***)


My second go-round with Flo, but my first picture with her. The first time I met her was completely random, as she was going into the CBS Television Center as I was trying to figure out if Eve Plumb was taping a show there. I was more prepared this time, and was probably the only heterosexual male attending her one-woman show at Joe's Pub that evening. I waited around backstage afterward and, after standing around while she was talking to friends and other non-heterosexual males for what seemed like forever, I finally got up the nerve to ask her to sign an album (the Oklahoma cast album, the only thing I could find in town...I swear I'm heterosexual) and pose for the photo. She put her arm around my waist, which startled me a bit. I think we make a nice couple, though I think Shenae Grimes is more my type.

The Brady Boys, Hotel Pennsylvania, NYC (***OFFICIAL SIGMAN HOLIDAY GREETING SELECTION***)


Barry Williams had already made an appearance on a Sigman Holiday Greeting, and I don't like to do repeats, but this one was born for the Greeting. Me and the boys, just chilling. I was originally nervous that I was going to have to spring for the professional photo op, which I think was $75, but they were offering the "nonprofessional" option at the table for $60 (including autographs), so I saved some cash there. If push came to shove, I probably would've paid $100 for this one, $150 if you throw in Cousin Oliver.

***
So that was 2010. After last year, I was thinking of calling an end to the Sigman Holiday Greeting. But 2010 has brought me a renewed sense of purpose. So I think the tradition will continue in 2011. Here's hoping next year is even stronger than this one, though, realistically, I'm not sure that's possible. Then again, Tiffani Thiessen and Lark Voorhies have eluded me so far, so there's always the chance of that.

It's Often Stormy in Philadelphia

The last two times I have attempted to make my way to Philadelphia (one successful attempt, one attempt thwarted by buses refusing to run) and the surrounding area I have been met with Nor'easters carrying copious amounts of snow. So, when I saw the weekend forecast for several inches of rain across New Jersey and Pennsylvania, I wasn't terribly surprised. And, to be honest, it would have taken a storm of biblical proportions to keep me from attending Monster Mania at the Crowne Plaza in Cherry Hill, NJ. Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you (and, really, I appreciate you still asking questions at this point in your Tinsel and Rot fandom).

One of the main guests for this edition of Monster Mania, making a rare east coast appearance, was one of our greatest human beings, Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer Gary Busey. And the rule is (surely you know of the Tinsel and Rot rulebook) if a Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer is appearing within a 200-mile radius and there is an opportunity to obtain a photo with said Hall of Famer at this appearance, Tinsel and Rot will do everything in its power to be there.

So, as the rains fell and the winds whipped, I was on a 7 a.m. Greyhound to Philly (new $10 round-trip to Philly much appreciated), where I would get on a train to Cherry Hill (after a quick run through the Reading Terminal Market), and then walk 0.9 miles (Google Maps walking directions are my best friend) to the Crowne Plaza to meet Gary Busey.

I'm not sure if you've ever walked 0.9 miles with rain whipping in your face, but it's not as much fun as you might think. Particularly when you have a vague idea of where you need to go. I got off the train with two other Monster Mania attendees who asked me how to get to Marlton Pike. I told them I was headed the same way, so we embarked on our adventure. One of my fellow travelers asked a Shop Rite employee for directions, and she pointed us in the direction of the Crowne Plaza, which you could see in the near distance through the sheets of rain. After some general chitchat about conventions and who everyone was excited about seeing, I split up with my fellow travelers because I wanted to move as quickly as possible so as to avoid being drenched upon meeting Gary Busey and they wanted to light up.

We eventually wound up together again as we approached the Crowne Plaza, and the gentleman traveler said, "We must really love horror movies to be walking through this." I didn't have the heart to tell him that my horror movie watching began and ended with the six movies I had to watch in an Academic Writing class in college (shoutout to Doug Sparent, wherever he may be). Monster Mania is more horror-centric than Chiller, so, as far as I can tell, it tends to attract more horror devotees. Two of the big events for the convention were reunions of cast members from "My Bloody Valentine" and "Night of the Creeps" (two movies I would never know existed if I didn't go to these conventions) and the appearance of Dario Argento or, as I think of him, a guy I never heard of. Whatever. That's what makes the world go round. And brings a lot of interesting people to a hotel in New Jersey during a rainstorm.

Anyway, I walked into the hotel around 11:15 and proceeded to scope out the Busey situation. My years of Chiller attendance had me prepared for a potentially long wait, but I was pleased to see that Monster Mania, because it has fewer celebrity guests, is much less of an endurance test. Whereas Chiller has a frequently ridiculously long wait to get in the main autograph pit, the only line of any considerable length was for Mr. Busey. And the only reason that line was so long was because Mr. Busey had yet to emerge from his hotel room (the convention technically started at 10, but you can't expect Mr. Busey to be up and about at that hour). Instead of hopping on the line immediately, I walked around to see the vendors and other celebrity guests. Since most of the vendors were selling horror-related stuff, it was a pretty quick run-through, stopping only to look at the Ozomba t-shirts and see if the bootleg DVD vendors had anything worth while.

There were only a few celebrity guests I was curious to see. Jason Lively, star of the aforementioned "Night of the Creeps" but more popularly known (to me) as the second Rusty Griswold (in "European Vacation"), looked roughly the same and did indeed have a photo of him as Rusty. I thought about it, but I've got two vacations of my own coming up, so spending $20 on an autograph and photo with someone I'm marginally interested in (if I am to be honest, he is my least favorite Rusty, narrowly edged out by Ethan Embry, who I'm probably giving extra points because he was Doyle in "Dutch") didn't make sense. I will say, though, that if he had brought his "Rusty" beret, I'd have been in for a photo with. But he seemed to be doing fine without any props, as he had a healthy line every time I passed by. Eric Roberts also had a solid line going, and when I noticed that he was only charging $5 for a photo with, I made a note to maybe come back for that later.

Corbin Bernsen, seated a few tables down from the busier Greatest American Hero William Katt, looked a little bored, though he seemed pleasant and earns bonus points by having baseballs to sign. I love "Major League," but the only guy whose autograph I'd like from that movie (besides Bob Uecker) is James "Lou Brown" Gammon. However, I'd get Corbin Bernsen's autograph on a photo with Gammon, so long as Gammon wrote "Don't give me this 'ole' bullshit" on it. Something to think about for those booking conventions in the future.

After another look-see at the vendors, I went back into the room where Gary Busey was signing to see if he had emerged. Indeed, he had, along with his son, Jake, who was also operating on Busey Time. So I headed back into the lobby to get in line and, about a half-hour or so later, it was my time with Mr. Busey, who had Monster Mania security on either side of his table to prevent people from snapping photos as they passed by. Normally, I would deride a celebrity for such behavior, but if you think I'm going to besmirch the name of Gary Busey, you are sorely mistaken.

A young woman was in front of me in line, and Mr. Busey seemed to take a shine to her and/or her prominently displayed cleavage. After signing her photo, she sat down next to him for the photo with, at which point Gary turned on the Busey charm and asked her if she wanted him to make out the autograph to her. After she carefully spelled out her name for him. Mr. Busey added a silver heart (colored in with red Sharpie). Then, after the photo was taken, he kissed her on the cheek. Very suave.

I was prepared to fork over $80 (yeah, yeah, I know) for two signatures ($30 each) and a photo with ($20), despite the fact that I generally think that the photo with should be included in the autograph price (but, again, I'm not questioning the Ways of Busey). But Mr. Busey's handler told me I only owed him $60. I guess I got in on the Buy Two Autographs, Get One Photo With Free special.

My first item was the LP soundtrack to "The Buddy Holly Story," which Mr. Busey was excited to see. But he seemed even more taken aback by my second item, a screen capture from what might be my all-time favorite musical moment on television, the performance of "Stay A Little Longer" by Mr. Busey, Rick Danko, and Paul Butterfield on "Saturday Night Live." Last Sunday, while preparing for My Busey Experience, I was excited to find that one can buy the episode of SNL with this song on Amazon On Demand (you should buy it; it's worth the $1.99). And then I thought, "Hey, 33-Year-Old Guy With Too Much Free Time and Antisocial Tendencies, why don't you take a screen shot of a frame of this performance and have Gary Busey sign it?" And, so, over the course of several hours, I came up with a reasonably strong selection of screen caps, with the best one being the one with the least amount of movement: a close-up of a wide-eyed Mr. Busey singing the second verse.

And that was the photo I plopped in front of Mr. Busey as I explained where it was from and why I wanted it signed. His handler asked if it was a screen cap and what year of SNL it was from, and Jake Busey shouted over from his table, "Hey, Dad, tell him about the band," which brought a stare from Dad and a thought from me of "Cool, I'm gonna hear a story about The Band." But then Jake clarified that he was talking about his band, Sons of the Lawless, which also features Lee Butterfield, Paul's son (I watched a YouTube clip when I got home; it's not like the SNL performance). Mr. Busey then asked where I got the record from. When I cleverly told him, "a record store," he informed his handler, "See, I should have things like that." I'm not sure if he was talking about the photo or the album (his handler seemed to think it was the photo, because he told Gary he could get him one off the DVD), but I'm hoping that if it's the album, that someone can fetch him a copy of the soundtrack for the movie for which he received an Academy Award nomination. Seems like he should have one.



Anyway, the photo was soon taken, and after Mr. Busey told me the SNL photo really brought him back, I was on my way, pleased with my interaction with a Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer (I didn't tell him he was in the Hall, but I'm sure it's gotten back to him).

Yeah, you were expecting the photo here, right? Sorry. It's under embargo for potential inclusion in the Sigman Holiday Greeting. I can't guarantee it will make it (I've got eight months or so ahead of me), but you'll at least see it here on the blog in December. You can wait.

OK, OK, I know you feel cheated, so I'll give you something to sate your celebrity photo jones. And I think it's an even better photo, though it won't make it onto a Sigman Holiday Greeting. It's just too good not to share.

After my time with Mr. Busey came to an end, I headed back into the room where Eric Roberts was. I should point out that I'm pretty sure I've seen exactly one Eric Roberts movie, and I don't have much of a recollection of that one ("Rude Awakening"). I know I probably should've seen at least one or two more (I suspect I'd like "The Pope of Greenwich Village," and if Mickey Rourke ever does a convention, I'll be on that line for a photo with), but, hey, I'm not a big movie guy. Still, he's been funny on Howard Stern's show and he's Julia Roberts' brother. And after watching several people take photos with Roberts, I knew this would be a good use of $5.

So, I handed over my $5 to one of the Eric Roberts handlers (there were three, which I think was a new record for handlers at a convention), and as I put down my bags for the photo, I heard Eric Roberts say, "OK, step on the line and look at the camera." I assumed he was talking to himself, but as I moved closer, he repeated, "Step on the line, and look at the camera." So I looked down and saw that there was a line in the carpet pattern, and I quickly surmised that that was where I should stand. And then, as the handler held my camera what seemed to be a little too close for my liking, Eric Roberts draped his arm over my shoulder, and we got what might be the funniest (and is certainly the least heterosexual) celebrity picture I've ever taken.



I find it impossible to look at it and not laugh.

And as I walked my 0.9 miles back to the train and got slammed so hard by the wind and rain that I had to buy a new pair of jeans at the Burlington Coat Factory in Philly for the ride home (if you've never changed clothes in the Greyhound Bus Terminal men's room in Philadelphia, you've never really lived), I was comforted by the fact that not only do I have this picture that will produce laughter for years to come but, also, for a few shining moments, I was with Busey.

The Band: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famers

It seems appropriate to wrap up a year in which I was lucky enough to see Levon Helm play in his barn twice by inducting Mr. Helm and his Bandmates into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

I've spent a lot of time here and elsewhere (someday either I'll scan in my No Depression tribute to Rick Danko or just find the disk I have it on) pontificating on the greatness of The Band, so I'll keep this brief. Simply put, I can't imagine there will be another band that will ever be as so overflowing with talent as The Band in their prime (and it should be noted that this induction applies solely to Misters Danko, Helm, Hudson, Manuel, and Robertson, lest anyone from the later years think they're getting in, too). There certainly won't be any group with three guys as vocally strong as Rick Danko, Levon Helm, and Richard Manuel (who weren't too shabby on their instruments of choice, either). Add in a pretty damn good guitarist in Robbie Robertson (good enough even to overcome his awful decision to invite Neil Diamond to "The Last Waltz") and a genuine eccentric master of the keys in Garth Hudson and, well, you've got something there.

I could write for hours about each member's greatness and how it blended so perfectly with the others', but that's been done a lot and I can't imagine I can add too much more without making this post a tedious read. Plus, why write when there are so many YouTube clips?

So, let me just welcome The Band into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame. From the second I heard the post-Robbie/post-Richard Band at the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Celebration (on the radio, lest you think I was actually there), I could feel that something inside me had changed. And I am grateful for that.

The first time I heard The Band (dueling accordions!):



Richard Manuel singing "Rockin' Chair":



Rick Danko singing "It Makes No Difference":



Levon Helm singing "Don't Do It":



****
And with this induction, the Hall closes up shop for what we expect will be the length of 2009. It's getting pretty full in the Hall, and we want to give the inductees some room to breathe and/or avoid Gary Busey.

Ingo Froelich: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

Who, you ask? Well, this probably is not the first time you have reacted like this to a T&R Hall of Fame induction. But I will admit that Mr. Froelich is our most obscure pick. So, here's the story of the man who, as best I can recall, was the first accordion player I ever saw.

Back in the day, the family used to spend a lot of time in the Catskills. For most of my early childhood, there was one week a year when the Ford Fairmont would be packed up and we'd settle into the Brown House at Eva's Farm in Purling, NY, where we'd meet up with all the other families that visited that same week every year. It was a week of ringing dinner (and breakfast and lunch) bells, shuffleboard, Donkey Kong (and, later, QBert), square dances, and, in retrospect, watching adults drink a lot (the centerpiece of the Dollar Beer Racket night was when couples would pair off, the husbands would don baby bonnets, and the wives would give them a baby bottle filled with beer...first to finish wins). When other kids were going to Disney World, we were going to Eva's Farm. I suppose the other kids thought they were getting the better deal. They were wrong.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and after a change in ownership and a quick subsequent downturn, Eva's Farm ceased to be. Luckily, by that point, we had settled into a summer rental in nearby Windham, where we could come and go whatever week we wanted to, but the other families were left without someplace to go at the end of July. And the area, once a hotbed of family resorts, was on its way down, too, so it wasn't so easy to find a spot like Eva's. But finally a few of the families settled on Wolff's Maple Breeze in nearby Catskill. For sure, it wasn't Eva's, but it was close enough. There were good video games (including World Series, maybe my all-time favorite) and, most important, different parties and activities every weeknight, which, though we were staying in Windham and not at the resort and thus had no right to attend, we crashed regularly. I suppose the management just assumed you'd have to be crazy to make the effort to crash a "Schnitzelbank" performance and just let it go.

There were only a few summers at Wolff's, and I was in my teens at that point, but I will forever remain in awe of the times I saw the incomparable Ingo Froelich and his one-man show at Wolff's. Ingo, who also performed with Helga (a woman who played glasses, whatever that's called) at the German Alps Festival in Hunter every summer, did the resort circuit in the Catskills during the summer, sometimes with his band (the Continentals) bot mostly solo. He was, as you may have surmised, German, and I reckon that if he had it his way, he would have played German songs all night. But he was at the mercy of the tourists, so while he was able to sneak some German tunes into the sets (and, really, he played until no one remained), the bulk of the night was handed over to interpretations of oldies and more recent fare.

For the solo shows, he would just have his accordion and keyboard, so the keyboard was in charge of the beat. And when I say "the beat," I mean "the beat." There was but one. Sometimes it would be slow, sometimes it would be fast, but it all sounded pretty much the same and was at the sheer discretion of how much Ingo felt like hitting the beats-per-minute button on the keyboard. Appropriately, there were two surefire showstoppers in the Ingo repertoire, one slow--"The Lady In Red"--and one fast--"Blue Suede Shoes." And both benefitted from the unique interpretation afforded by Ingo's thick German accent, which rendered "The lady in red/Is dancing with me/Cheek to cheek" as "Zee lay-dee een red/Eez dahn-zing vith me/Chik to chik" and "Stay off of my blue suede shoes" as "Ztay offa my blue svede schuss." It was magical.

Sadly, I have no video proof to share with you. And my own personal Ingo collection is woefully inadequate. Last year, I had the glorious good fortune to find the live album above in a store in Phoenicia. The album features his brother, Manny the Singing Chef--whom I never had the pleasure of seeing--and a live drummer that, it should be noted, is only marginally more vibrant than the keyboard beat. As I write this, I am listening to Ingo sing "Rhinestone Cowboy" on the album, and it is every bit as awesome as I remember. The neighbors, I imagine, are scared.

And in one of the last times I saw him at the German Alps Festival, I was smart enough to buy a cassette of "Etwas Gewagt mit Ingo." I'm not sure if the "Somewhat Bold" underneath the title is the proper translation, but it sounds about right, particularly when you see the cover.



That tape, by the way, rests on my kitchen table, which I bought from IKEA for one reason: its name is Ingo.

I do not know whether Ingo Froelich is dead or alive (the Internet should be ashamed that it cannot provide a definitive answer). I like to think he's alive, but he would be quite old at this point, so who can say? What I can say is, Ingo Froelich, wherever you are, today you are a Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer.

Jimmy Martin: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

Here's another one that somehow slipped through the cracks. Surely, he should have been inducted a long time ago. But, unlike the Country Music Hall of Fame, I am willing to own up to my shortsightedness and correct it by welcoming Jimmy Martin into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

By all accounts, Jimmy Martin was one of the true characters in country music. Evidence of this can readily be found by watching King of Bluegrass: The Life & Times of Jimmy Martin or reading Tom Piazza's undeniably awesome True Adventures with The King of Bluegrass, where I first became enthralled by the man shunned by both the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Grand Ole Opry despite clearly belonging in both. Martin got his first big break playing with Bill Monroe and quickly parlayed that into a solo career that stands among the best in bluegrass.

A lot of bluegrass doesn't quite have the same punch it did when it was originally recorded, but Martin's best ("Sunny Side of the Mountain," "Free Born Man," "Tennessee," "Hold Whatcha Got," "Sophronie," "(I've Got My) Future on Ice". . . I'll stop there, but I could easily go on) hold up well today. They didn't call him the king for nothing (though, knowing Martin, it seems likely he may have bestowed the title on himself). For a good sampling of Martin's genius, try The King of Bluegrass CD or Songs of a Free Born Man, which would be worth the money if all you got was the cover (shown above). It takes a bold man to prepare his own elaborate gravestone and then pose next to it. I've never gotten the whole visiting famous people's gravestones thing, but I'll admit that I wouldn't mind making a trip to see Mr. Martin's. I tried to see him in concert in 2004, but his declining health forced him to cancel his appearance at Ralph Stanley's bluegrass festival in Virginia and I never got the chance to see him again. He died in May 2005. So the gravestone's the best I can do now.

YouTube clips of Mr. Martin don't quite do him justice (though a few do a passable job and are included below), but Piazza's book, originally an article written for the Oxford American, gives you a pretty good idea of Martin's irascibility and its impact on his career. The highlight of the book is Martin and Piazza's backstage visit to the Grand Ole Opry, in which Martin (a) tells a member of Ricky Skaggs's band that his boss's music is "about the sorriest f*&$in' bluegrass you could ever hope to be on with"; (b) upon seeing Skaggs yells out, "Is that the BIGGEST A$$HOLE in Nashville; and (c) lunges at Opry veteran "Whisperin'" Bill Anderson after telling Piazza, "I'm going to knock his a$$ right off him." Even if he hadn't produced all those great songs, I'd think he was brilliant solely based on Piazza's reporting.

Some say his stubborn, frequently caustic ways kept him from greater acclaim, but they won't keep him from the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame, which recognizes Jimmy Martin's spirit, toughness, and musical genius and welcomes him into the Hall.


"Tennessee"



"Free Born Man"

Billy Joe Shaver: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

Sometimes, the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame Board of Governors lets one slip through the cracks. Such is the case with the long-overdue induction of true country music outlaw Billy Joe Shaver.

I have explained why Billy Joe Shaver is cooler than you'll ever be before (and pointed you to a good career summation here), so I'll keep this relatively brief.

The first time I saw Billy Joe Shaver was completely unexpected, as he was the unadvertised opening act at Elmira's Clemens Center, where my friend Bryan and I had headed on a schoolnight in college to slip in among the elderly of Elmira to see Willie Nelson from second-row seats. Since no one was expecting Mr. Shaver and most of the crowd had rigid bedtimes, he was fighting an uphill battle. But he handled it like a champ. When the inevitable "Where's Willie?" shout came from the crowd, Mr. Shaver answered with the completely illogical but perfectly right reply, "If he was up your ass, you'd know where he was." And thus, two new Billy Joe Shaver fans were created.

Shaver's set was short that night in Elmira, but I've been lucky enough to see him a few times since and have never left disappointed. Each show has had its fair share of chaos (such as the one where he gave his drummer a few bucks and told him to leave if he wanted to...he did) and an equal amount of brilliance. There are probably a handful of people whose shows leave me as happy as Mr. Shaver's do, and none of them feature a man in his late 60s shadow boxing and shaking with the fervor of a Pentecostal preacher.

Mr. Shaver was recently indicted on felony charges for allegedly shooting a guy at a bar in Lorena, Texas (Dale Watson wrote a song about it and what Mr. Shaver allegedly asked the man he shot). I aint saying he did it, and if he did, I aint saying it's right. What I am saying is that this incident and about a thousand others prove that Billy Joe Shaver is a bona fide badass.

And now he is a member of the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

Here are some YouTube clips of Billy Joe in action:

"Georgia on a Fast Train" (with his late son Eddy)



"Black Rose"



"Try and Try Again"



Billy Joe the storyteller

Red Sovine: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

A little bit late on this, but Tinsel and Rot is proud to welcome Woodrow Wilson "Red" Sovine into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame as its August inductee.

Sovine's country music career got its first big boost from Hank Williams, albeit in an indirect sort of way. When Williams left the "Louisiana Hayride" to join the Grand Ole Opry, Sovine took his place on the popular radio show. Sovine used that prime spot as a springboard into the country music world and soon carved out a respectable career as a honky-tonk singer.

Then came "Teddy Bear."

Sovine eventually began to specialize in trucker songs, particularly absurdly maudlin recitations, in which he would tell a tale that generally involved death, crippling accidents, lost children, or some combination thereof over light musical accompaniment. His first such hit was "Giddy-Up Go" (a trucker reunites with his son, who is now also a trucker), which was followed by "Phantom 309" (hitchhiker gets a lift from "Big Joe," who's actually the ghost of a trucker who lost his life while swerving to avoid hitting a busful of children).

But neither can top "Teddy Bear," which tells the story of a boy who can't walk and lost his father in a wreck. He turns on his dad's CB radio hoping to get some truckers on the line so that one of them might find it in his heart to drop by the boy's house and let him ride in the rig like he used to do with his dad. It is nothing short of a masterpiece, and from the second I heard it "sung" by Hank Hill on the "King of the Hill" soundtrack, I've been a Red Sovine fan. "Teddy Bear" is almost enough on its own to get Sovine into the Hall, but songs like "Colorado Kool-Aid" (also recorded by Johnny PayCheck) and "Little Rosa" (in which Sovine endearingly delivers the world's worst imitation of what I guess is an Italian) make it a no-brainer.

So, welcome, Red Sovine, to your new Home 20, the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

"Teddy Bear"


"Little Rosa"


"Faith in Santa"


"Hold Everything"


A fantastic commercial for Red's "Greatest Hits"

Cindy Walker: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

There has been much internal discussion among the Tinsel and Rot Board of Directors regarding the strictly white male make-up of the Hall of Fame to date. Then, while cataloging some old posts, we came across the inspiration for the founding of the Hall of Fame and discovered an egregious oversight whose correcting would break up the stranglehold white guys have had so far on the Hall of Fame. And so, we first apologize for not inducting legendary songwriter Cindy Walker sooner and then welcome her into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

In a just world, Ms. Walker would still be alive to receive this honor (and, in fact, would actually care about it) so she could deliver another knockout induction speech like she did upon her induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame. Alas, she is no longer with us, though it is doubtful that if she were still alive she could top that CMHOF poem/speech. I am still stunned and disappointed that someone hasn't thrown this up on YouTube, so you will have to make do with the transcript:

"In the 1980s my mother bought me a dress for a BMI affair
And she said, 'When they put you in the Hall Of Fame, that's the dress I want you to wear'
And, I said, 'Oh, mama, the Hall Of Fame...Why, that will never be'
And the years went by, but my mother's words remained in my memory
And I know tonight she'd be happy, tho she's gone now to her rest
But I think of all that she did for me and, tonight, I'm wearing that dress!"

If you can watch the video of that and feel nothing, I officially don't like you. Here's the dress, by the way:



Of course, it would be weird to induct a person solely on the basis of an induction speech for another hall of fame. So, it seems wise to point out that Ms. Walker was a prolific and amazing songwriter. "You Don't Know Me," "Bubbles in My Beer." "Cherokee Maiden," "Dream Baby (How Long Must I Dream," "Distant Drums," "Not That I Care," "Triflin' Gal," "Miss Molly," and my personal favorite, "Going Away Party" were all either written or cowritten by Ms. Walker, who had songs recorded by Bing Crosby, Bob Wills, Roy Orbison, Jim Reeves, Ernest Tubb, Webb Pierce, and Willie Nelson, just to name a few (Willie's "You Don't Know Me: The Songs of Cindy Walker" is a fine place to start a discovery of Walker's talents, as is Leon Rausch's "Close to You: A 20 Song Salute to the Music of Cindy Walker").

Walker died in March 2006 (nine days after the Willie Nelson tribute CD was released) and though she has earned a good measure of acclaim in country music circles, it still isn't quite enough for our tastes. Too freqeuntly, she is described as "one of the greatest female country music songwriters," but that's a couple of adjectives too many. She is simply one of the best songwriters of all time, and we are proud to have Cindy Walker in the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

Here are some of her songs done by the greats:

Roy Orbison (and other people not quite as cool as Roy Orbison) doing "Dream Baby":



Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys doing "Bubbles in My Beer" (while you watch an annoying "psychedelic" slideshow):



And a partial version of Richard Manuel doing "You Don't Know Me" that'll break your heart (if you prefer to hear Willie's full version, go here or check out a nice Emmylou Harris take here):



And, as it turns out, Cindy Walker has a pretty rad tombstone, too (AP photo by Tony Gutierrez):

William Zabka: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

The name may not be familiar to most, but for any student of the teen films of the 1980s, William "Billy" Zabka is an undeniable legend. Perhaps even a god. And now he is a Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer.

The New York-born Mr. Zabka's work in three '80s classics--"The Karate Kid," "Just One of the Guys," and "Back to School" (he was also in "National Lampoon's European Vacation," but not used to his best abilities)--earned him the distinction of being the quintessential jerk of modern cinema, the very embodiment of the fear and disgust felt by the unsung and unpopular at thousands of schools across America. Of the three, it is probably his turn as Johnny Lawrence in "The Karate Kid" that is most adored, and it's worth noting that that was his first film. A star right out of the box, surely something considered when the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame Board of Governors met to debate Mr. Zabka's induction into the Hall. And while we generally don't like to reward bullies here at Tinsel and Rot, we recognize that (a) Mr. Zabka was only playing a bully and (b) we would've been pretty pissed if the new kid stole Elisabeth Shue away, too.



Look how Zabka doesn't even say anything in that scene and he's still giving you that jerkoff vibe. Genius. And not only was it his first film, but dig this nugget from an online interview:

"For Johnny, I really was surprised that I got the part, because I didn't know karate. I never rode a motorcycle. The last thing I did before The Karate Kid was a milk commercial. I was just this nice young American kid."

As impressive as he was in pondering the inner debate to sweep or not to sweep and in revisiting the bully ouevre in "Just One of the Guys," Zabka truly hit his stride with his star turn as primo douchebag Chas in the stone-cold classic "Back to School." If "The Karate Kid" established Zabka as a force to be reckoned with, "Back to School" showed that force at peak perfomance--and, incidentally, he had to play off what may be one of the worst comedic acting performances of all time, turned in by Keith Gordon. Screw you, Melon, indeed.



Like any good champion, Zabka went out on top (or perhaps he couldn't get any more acting jobs...now is not the time for quibbling over minor details). He went on to do some TV, a few films, and some other things outside of acting, including writing and producing a short film (Most) that was nominated for an Academy Award in 2004.

And now, he is the latest inductee into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame, Today, William Zabka, you are the best around.

Here's a YouTube homage, followed by the Web smash music video "Sweep the Leg" by No More Kings (directed by and starring Mr. Zabka).

Shel Silverstein: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

I usually like to throw some good YouTube clips up when inducting a new Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer, but I've run into some hard times trying to find good footage of this month's inductee, the multitalented, undeniably awesome author/illustrator/playwright/songwriter/singer/avid walker (always an admired attribute here at T&R) Shel Silverstein. And, while that's slightly frustrating, I think the fact that he has successfully avoided being spotlighted on YouTube may be a true indication of his genius, along with the fact that even while among the living, he didn't seek out the limelight or grant too many interviews. He preferred to let the work speak for itself. And it still does.

Silverstein is best known for his children's books, particularly The Giving Tree and A Light in the Attic, but never really set out to write books for kids. He started out drawing for Stars and Stripes while in the military before becoming an illustrator for Playboy, where he started to get noticed by the masses, or as noticed as a cartoonist in Playboy can get. Silverstein made the natural transition from Playboy cartoonist to children's book author/illustrator only after a friend convinced him that was the way to go. And that probably speaks to why Silverstein's books are so beloved; he didn't pander or dumb down his work for kids. He just wrote what came naturally and figured kids might like it. Seems like that worked out.

Lest you think we are inducting Silverstein solely for his reputation amongst children, thus leading up to the inevitable induction of the Berenstain Bears (still not out of the realm of possibility), Tinsel and Rot truly reveres Silverstein for his songwriting career, which featured "A Boy Named Sue" and "25 Minutes To Go" for Johnny Cash, "One's on the Way" and "Hey Loretta" for Loretta Lynn, an album's worth of gems at the end of his life for the Old Dogs (Bobby Bare, Mel Tillis, Jerry Reed, and Waylon Jennings), and too many great songs to mention for both Bare (for starters, just get the "Bobby Bare Sings Lullabys, Legends, and Lies" album) and Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show. I started listening to Dr. Hook because Kinky Friedman said "The Cover of the Rolling Stone" and "Sylvia's Mother" were his two favorite songs. After listening to those songs for a few months (including "Sylvia's Mutter," a cover in German by Jonny Hill), I finally realized that the guy who wrote those kids' books also wrote those songs. And then I realized that he wrote almost all of the early Dr. Hook songs, none of which are clunkers. I'm very embarrassed that I submitted a list of the top 50 rock songs of all time and didn't include one Shel Silverstein song, but I'm particularly bummed that I didn't include "Carry Me, Carrie." Here are the exceedingly handsome men (who came together not all that far from where I write this) of Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show performing the song:



Plenty of other Dr. Hook/Silverstein songs on YouTube, but I don't want you to think I'm inducting Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show. At least not yet. They're gonna get in before the Berenstain Bears, though.

Anyway, back to the inductee. Aside from the books and the songs, Silverstein also dabbled in playwriting and, by most accounts, was quite the ladies man, which, when you look at him, has to be considered impressive as well. But good for him. Based strictly on his published output, he deserved as many ladies as he wanted. And more respect for his songwriting, for sure. Luckily the Bobby Bares (Junior and Senior) are reportedly at work on a tribute record, so maybe that will be rectified before too long.

But Tinsel and Rot doesn't want to wait until then to induct him into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame. So, welcome, Shel. You've earned it.

Here's the best YouTube clip of Shel in action: a quick, shaky clip of Shel and Johnny Cash on the latter's TV show:

Tommy (Grand) Habeeb: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

The mission of the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame is twofold. First, we aim to honor those who have achieved genuine greatness in not only our arguably warped eyes but in the eyes of the general populace. In that capacity, we have welcomed undeniable legends like Hank Williams Sr., Bob Dylan, and Roy Orbison into the fold. Second, we look to shine a light on those who have achieved greatness in our eyes but whose names are greeted with a casual shrug or, at best, a tepid tolerance from the average citizen. We have achieved this goal with the induction of William Hickey, Gary Busey, and now the original and still greatest "Cheaters" host of all time, Mr. Tommy Habeeb, or Tommy Grand if you prefer to call him by his host name.

If you have not had the pleasure of watching "Cheaters," you are living a vastly unfulfilled life, and Tinsel and Rot is very sorry for you. But to catch you up, the show's premise is that someone suspects a loved one of infidelity, the "Cheaters" team of private investigators trails the suspected cheater and amasses video evidence, the host shows the aggrieved party this proof, and then there's a big confrontation, generally in a parking lot and almost always hilarious. Never has infidelity been so incredibly entertaining. And the most fascinating part of the show is that, most of the time, the person who is doing the cheating and ends up being the subject of verbal and occasional light physical abuse from their scorned lover apparently happily signs a consent form that allows his or her completely unblurred likeness to be shown in perpetuity. Fascinating. Yes, "Cheaters" may be the best worst show of all time.

Anyway, Tommy Habeeb, who for reasons I've never been clear on goes by the name of "Tommy Grand" for "Cheaters" purposes, is the true star of the show. As entertaining and explosive as the confrontations are, it is the perpetually black-clad Habeeb's casual reassurances to the person being cheated on that propel the show and earn him a spot in the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame. While sharing graphic evidence of infidelity, Habeeb would often add in a "I hate to have to show you this" or "This must be difficult to watch" as he offered an awkward pat on the shoulder meant to soothe someone who's just seen her boyfriend getting blown in a dorm room. And it would all be delivered in a flat monotone, which made it all the more fantastic. Never has unctuousness been so brilliantly displayed. And, yes, I am excited that I just used the word "unctuousness."

Unfortunately, Habeeb was replaced by the vastly inferior Joey Greco as host, and "Cheaters" never was the same. The show got progressively more bizarre (Greco was stabbed, the "Cheaters" cameras uncovered an odd S&M session, one of the cameraman got zapped by some sort of cattle prod), but it didn't have the Tommy Grand touch. I'm not sure if there are still first-run episodes airing, but G4 airs repeats a lot, and a lot of those repeats fetaure highlights from the Tommy Grand years that show the vast superiority of those episodes.

Sadly, YouTube's "Cheaters" clips are almost all from the Joey Greco years, so there is precious little I can show you to illustrate the brilliance that was Tommy Grand. But in my research, I discovered that Habeeb recently hosted a show called "Stag," where brides-to-be got to watch clips from their future husbands' bachelor parties. What could go wrong? Oh right, this (WARNING: contains language definitely not suitable for work):



Tinsel and Rot salutes you, Tommy (Grand) Habeeb, and welcomes you into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

Richard Dawson: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

As you, the subtly attractive T&R reader, no doubt know, the game show genre holds a special place in that place in Tinsel and Rot where a heart would be. It's a very populist genre (its contestants are, by and large, more real than your average reality show participant), and we're populist kind of people, so it's a natural fit. But sometimes the common foolk aren't enough to take a game show to the next level. Sometimes you need a host that can tie it all together.

The Hall of Fame has already welcomed the Game Show King, Mr. Chuck Barris, and today we would like to honor another of the true greats in game show history, Mr. Richard "Dickie" Dawson.

If Mr. Dawson's career consisted solely of a starring role in a sitcom with perhaps the most unlikely "sit" of all time (that would be, of course, "Hogan's Heroes," which brought us the lighter side of Nazi Germany), it would be worth noting. But it wasn't until Mr. Dawson's post-"Hogan's" career as a game show icon that he earned his induction into the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame. First came "Match Game," where Mr. Dawson was a world-class bickerer with host Gene Rayburn and fellow panelists Brett Somers and Charles Nelson Reilly and the go-to guy in the Super Match round. And he also honed his shameless flirtation techniques.



Mr. Dawson really upped the flirtation on "Family Feud," where he became legend. Ray Combs did a decent job after Mr. Dawson left, but every host that followed was so awful that they only highlighted the brilliance that was the Dawson Years. And in those years, Mr. Dawson kissed every female he laid eyes on--young, old, pretty, homely...he kissed 'em all. Aint that a man?

There are many fine, fine moments from Mr. Dawson's tenure as "Family Feud" host, but these two are genuine classics.





Then, after leaving "Family Feud," Mr. Dawson delivered a stellar performance as the heartless Killian in "The Running Man," likely Tinsel and Rot's choice as Favorite Schwarzenegger Film (Non-Comedy Division).



We salute you, Richard Dawson. Survey says you're in the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

Gary Busey: Tinsel and Rot Hall of Famer

I was all set to induct someone else into the Hall of Fame this month, but that person will have to wait. Sunday night, someone grabbed the attention of the Tinsel and Rot Board of Directors and kissed them on the neck.

I am speaking, of course, of Gary Busey and his performance on the red carpet at the Academy Awards:



I didn't think anyone could make me upset that I missed the red carpet arrivals. Leave it to the genius of Mr. Gary Busey.

I'll be honest: I haven't seen a lot of his film work ("The Buddy Holly Story" is on as I write this, but since I'm trying to watch a hockey game and listen to a radio show, something's gotta give). In fact, I would probably label his star turn as Chet "Rocket" Steadman in "Rookie of the Year" as my favorite Busey cinematic performance, though I recall enjoying him in "Lethal Weapon," too.

But his recent rebirth as a batshit crazy reality show guy has dazzled me at every turn. "I'm with Busey" was a bona fide gem, a show that you knew was fake to some degree but didn't really care, because Busey's craziness was clearly real (I want my DVD!). Then there was "Celebrity Fit Club 2," where he became the show's breakout star. And, as Sunday night proved, there seems to be no end to his insanity. I am of the same opinion as Howard Stern when it comes to his assessment of Busey's attack on Sunday: E! or the TV Guide Network should have him wandering around the red carpet at every awards ceremony. And I will go one step further: there is no show on television that could not be improved by the addition of Gary Busey--not Gary Busey playing a character, but Gary Busey playing Gary Busey, just wandering around and saying crazy things and inappropriately touching people. C'mon, Hollywood. Make it happen.

Gary Busey, welcome to the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame.

Some of Busey's greatest hits:

Busey as Buddy Holly



Busey the Philosopher



Busey on "Late Night with David Letterman"



YouTube yanked the insane Busey/Paul Butterfield/Rick Danko performance of "Stay All Night, Stay A Little Longer," but you can find it here. I think that's definitive proof that he was crazy before the motorcycle accident.

And if you want to watch the glorious "I'm with Busey," you can find episodes here.