(Hope with actress Barbara Payton, from an article about her at the Filmfax website.)

Not to get too technical, but weblog "publishers" are able to track the hits that their pages get, as well as where those readers came from. (Don't worry, it's all anonymous.) In the last couple days, I've gotten a lot of traffic from Google searches about Bob Hope. Interestingly, the key words turning up most often are "Bob Hope womanizer". (There are also a fair number of people looking up "Bob Hope asshole", but that's not so surprising.) Since yours truly is always interested in giving his readers what they want, I thought I'd share some of my favorite anecdotes pertaining to that subject from Arthur Marx's biography The Secret Life of Bob Hope.

His longtime secretary Jan King summed him up best: "He's a lecher who had women stashed all over town." His payroll was always filled with his latest girlfriends, and he actually had an apartment building close to his house filled with his current "dates". (He even had an employee whose job was to make sure the girls got their monthly payoffs.) Hope never met a beauty queen he couldn't-- and wouldn't-- hit on, which was his main reason for emceeing so many pageants over the years.

Jan King's interview with the Globe in 1991 was one of only three times Hope's philandering was ever made public (before Marx's book, that is). The first was a famous 1956 piece in Confidential, a gossip magazine of the time. It featured an interview with B-movie actress Barbara Payton about her time with Bob. In it, she complained that the only gifts he'd ever given her were a kingsize bed and three jars of jam. (After Hope dumped her, her alcoholism became severe and she ended up as a five-dollar hooker before committing suicide at 39.)

She was replaced immediately by Marilyn Maxwell, an Iowa-born actress who had earlier had an affair with Frank Sinatra. Bob wasn't shy about telling her what he wanted. From the Marx book:

"Hy Steinman, publisher of the now-defunct Confidential magazine, tells of a time when Hope and Maxwell were flying back from a golfing weekend in his private plane, when the comedian suddenly got the urge to have her perform oral sex on him while they were in the air.

"She seemed agreeable to this until she discovered he had a bad case of poison ivy on his penis, which he had contracted while urinating in some deep rough on the golf course. Seeing his condition, Maxwell recoiled in horror. But Hope saw no problem. 'I'll use a condom,' he advised."

As you might expect from the above, Bob's technique wasn't the greatest. Another B-movie actress, Jeanne Carmen, said of her first time with him, "I don't even remember [it]. That's how exciting it was." (She also referred to Hope as a "cheap prick" and she didn't mean it lovingly.) Many years later in a phone conversation, Hope told her that he woke up with a hard-on so big he "had to drop the window on it," to which she replied, "It must have been a small window."

Just as Hope was known to cheat on the women he was cheating on his wife with, there's a dark side to Bob's dark side that's disturbing, to say the least. His daughter Linda (whose lesbianism displeased her rightwing old man no end) went to an elite Hollywood parochial school with the daughters of many famous people in showbiz. According to one classmate, "Hope was actually repulsive around young girls. He had a dirty mouth, and he was kind of perverted. By perverted, I mean, like, well, he was an exhibitionist. Sometimes he'd come out without any clothes on, or if he was dressed, his fly would be open. And then he'd pretend it was a mistake. He was actually pretty open about it." Finally, her father told her she couldn't visit her friend because "Bob Hope is a very bad man."

So let's hear it for Bob-- great patriot, comedian, and family man. And great, great lover.

P.S. For a guy who was supposed to be so funny, his lack of comedic range is remarkable. He had one character-- Bob Hope-- and it didn't change one iota in seven decades. Some, like Phyllis Diller, would disagree; she told Marx, "He does two great dialects-- Negro and fag-- he just can't do them in public!"

Maybe he displayed more sides of himself on his official website. While it seems a bit out-of-date (except for the new "In memoriam" front page), now that Bob's completely dead, he might have more time to keep it current.

And finally, for those not easily offended, click here for the worst Hope photo ever. (Keep in mind, it's over three years old.)

Darwin was wrong.

(Thanks to Bartcop for the find.)

I thought it would never happen, but Bob Hope finally croaked.

My question: How could they tell?

Bob "Nosferatu" Hope (photo taken three years ago)

P.S. For another, even worse pic of Bob, click here. And for an antidote to the tons of "Patriotic Bob" stories clogging the news services right now, you might want to check out a piece I did on an NPR report about the truth behind his USO shows.

Since there were so few correct answers to last week's dialogue clip from the greatest movie of all time (according to yours truly and Sight and Sound's annual critics' poll), it's back to music for this week's quiz clue. (Note: File size is 300K.) The only hints I'll give you are that it's from the '60s (which you'll know anyway as soon as you hear it) and that it follows one of the most memorable credits/themes in movie history. If you think you know the name of the film, send me an email before Sunday night turns into Monday morning, and you'll join next week's swingin' winners circle.

(Everett will return to his usual blog slot on Saturday.)

I have to admit, I'm surprised at how few people identified last week's clue clip. True, I tried to make it a little difficult-- having Orson Welles whisper "Rosebud" would have been no fun for anybody-- but this brief speech is still one of the film's best known and loved moments. Welles himself was especially fond of it and gave full credit for the lovely words to his co-writer, Herman J. Mankiewicz. It was delivered by Everett Sloane, an original member of The Mercury Theater and a veteran radio actor. (Welles blamed those years doing radio for Sloane's later, weaker film performances, and said he gave the actor's character in The Lady from Shanghai crutches and leg braces because he felt Sloane was no longer able to move naturally on screen.)

So congrats to the usual handful of quiz winners for knowing Citizen Kane well enough to identify Mr. Bernstein's wistful speech about the girl in a summer dress: Wayne A. Palmer, Peter at Mudville, E. Yarber and Chris Bahn.

This week's clip is a real curio: the first press conference Bush Jr. gave in early 2001, where he answers questions from a very hostile Peter Haskett and Raymond Huffman. Pete accuses Dubya of theft and Ray challenges his war record. In other words, they do a better job in 90 seconds than the real press corps has done to date. (Note: File size is 240K.)

As for where this clip came from originally, I don't have any idea, I swear . . .

No one will make it through Bush Jr.'s reign without being personally insulted, and that now includes Korean War veterans.

This weekend will see many memorial services around the country in honor of the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Korean War armistice. A big one is scheduled on Saturday in Washington D.C. After the more somber part of the ceremony, there will be a concert for the attending vets featuring three favorite acts of the era: The Platters, The Coasters and The Drifters.

But according to Jon Newton at Gnutella News, "there's a problem. These Coasters aren't THE Coasters, and The Platters aren't THE Platters and The Drifters certainly aren't THE Drifters." (You can read the whole story here.) The official press release for the event also claims that the vets will be treated to "the sound of Motown," a label that didn't even exist during the Korean War.

In other words, these veterans will find themselves "honored" on this special day by a cheesy casino-level show by three ripoff groups that had nothing to do with any of the original hits.

Quite the tribute. Maybe the ersatz Platters should change the title of one of "their" songs that night to "Smoke Gets Up Your Ass".

P.S. Here's a good piece on the vets today and their memories of the war, and-- for the terminally bored-- here's the original press release for the event from The Department of Defense. And here's a recent piece on the disastrous economic policy of Bush & Co. that features the following paragraph:

"How will Bush pay for his 'shock and awe' tax package? The administration and Republican leadership in Congress are proposing steep cuts in Medicare, Medicaid, student loans, school lunches, child care, food stamps, homeland security, and just about every basic social and human service program. Republican leaders in Congress have taken the brutal irony to an even higher level by claiming 'patriotism' as a rationale for reducing military veterans' benefits by $14 billion in order to fund additional tax breaks to the rich. These are the same veterans who fought in the Gulf and Iraq wars. There's an old saying in Las Vegas -- where, unlike Washington, they don't change the bottom line or hide behind patriotic slogans for political convenience or advantage. It goes, 'Figures don't lie and liars figure.'

What could possibly be worse than seeing these two unfunny creeps get back together? (Assuming for a moment that it was possible, since Dino's dead.) Well, how about seeing their two untalented sons unite on stage? Which is just what happened this past weekend in Buffalo, NY at the annual Italian Heritage Days festival.

"Ricci Martin and Gary Lewis performed together for the first time [...] in a hastily arranged pairing that both say appealed to them right away.

"The two sang a song together and talked about their fathers after Martin finished his stage tribute to Dean Martin.

"Not only was the weekend show the first time the two performed together, it was the first time they had ever met. They set up the joint appearance by phone last week."

This has the possibilities of being a so-bad-it's-great event. Ricci made one of the shittiest little rock albums of the late '70s (produced by his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Beach Boy Carl Wilson) and Gary is best known for singing lead nasal with his band The Playboys. In other words, they both suck on ice as singers and performers. Here's hoping someone had a tape rolling and it winds up on a newsgroup soon.

Until then, here's their foul-mouthed fathers recording a promo for their movie The Caddy. They sound like Pete and Ray without the charm. (Note: File size is 500K.)

(Here's Gary onstage in 1999, either rocking out or pinching off a loaf.)

How the smilin' have fallen

In case you missed it on Friday, here's an absolutely ridiculous news item about an upcoming cartoon series.

"A unit of Playboy Enterprises Inc. on Friday said it plans to develop a new animated television series starring Hugh Hefner, founder of Playboy magazine, and his famed centerfold girls in another move to introduce the Playboy brand to younger generations.

"Hefner, an icon of the American sexual revolution, will be the mastermind behind a sexy, sophisticated squad of Playmates that will fight the 'enemies of the democracy' in Hef's Superbunnies, the cartoon series to be developed by Stan Lee."

I admit, when I first read this, the comics-loving boy in me couldn't help groaning, "What the fuck, Stan!" It's not like he's ever been a shining example of artisitic integrity-- over the past four decades, he's already sold out more than Mannheim Steamroller concerts in Des Moines-- but still, those of us who grew up with the original '60s Marvel books can't help but be saddened by this pathetic attempt of Stan the Man's to cash in so blatantly. It begs the question: Didn't Spiderman, The Fantastic Four, et al make him rich enough to avoid doing crap like this?

But wait! According to this story from the Sunday edition of the L.A. Times, his company, Stan Lee Media Inc., not only has never made a profit but its executive vice president Stephen M. Gordon is possibly going to jail for his role in breaking the company. (Feel free to use my username & password to read it: couchpundit/couchpundit)

"In the long, hot summer of 2000, Stephen M. Gordon and his associates wrote big checks by the dozen.

"One, for $63,788.48, went to Wolfgang Puck's restaurant Spago, for catering. Another, for $12,800, paid Rogers & Cowan for publicity. Yet another, for $30,048.31, covered a private jet trip for Cher.

"This was New Economy money: Stan Lee Media had never turned a profit. It had value thanks to the dot-com bubble and the reputation of its namesake chairman, comic book genius Stan Lee.

"Ultimately, the checks written that summer would contribute to Stan Lee Media's collapse and help trigger a sequence of events that may lead to a prison sentence for Gordon."

Very sad. Despite his crass commercialism, I have a soft spot in my heart for Stan, who has always been a warm, funny guy on the page, in interviews and with the fans. And I've felt his pain in recent years as he's watched his work turned into mega-million hit movies without receiving any of the profits.

But the truth is, when true comics genius Jack Kirby tried to get his original artwork back, company-man Stan did his part to thwart him, as well as other pioneering Marvel artists who wanted the same. In other words, Lee was a staunch supporter of the same kind of work-for-hire agreement (where the writer/artist sells his creation for a one-time page rate) that has come back to bite him on the ass in his old age (he'll be 81 this year). None of these guys ever envisioned a day when their "lowly" work would generate the kind of money it does today, and it's severe but poetic justice that the smilin' one has to now deal with it himself.

Still, I like the guy, and hope he wins his so-called "friendly" lawsuit against Marvel for royalties on the Spiderman movie. (You can read even more about it here-- start at the top and keep a-scrollin'-- at the website of a magazine I once called my freelance home, The Comics Journal.)

P.S. For a really good overview of Stan's career, check out this old Salon "Brilliant Careers" piece.