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Friday, Sept. 27, 2002 | link I just watched the last five minutes of the new "Hollywood Squares", something I've never, ever, never done before. Well, maybe I've seen like two seconds' worth ... however long it takes a person to dive for the remote control as though her eyes were being jabbed out by pointy, little gnome hats. But apparently a lot has changed since I last flicked in, and for the better, maybe:
I don't know what's going on. I always thought "Hollywood Squares" was the place where stars go to die, each box a little career coffin. But maybe H2 has become fertile ground for funny? What's happening? Wait, wait. I just went to the official Hollywood Squares site. First of all, Henry Winkler is co-executive producer. (Wow, meeting me did something to you, didn't it, Henry?) OK, and according to his bio, he also "hosted and served as Co-Executive Producer for the 1977 Academy Award-winning documentary, Who Are the DeBolts? And Where Did They Get Nineteen Kids?" I can't believe it! The kids at my grade school used to call each other "DeBolts" (the children the DeBolts adopted were all heart-breakingly damaged in one way or another), but whenever I try to fun about the DeBolts, no one knows what I'm talking about. (Come on, the "DeBolt Institute of Technology"? Peep?) I was beginning to think that the movie was test-marketed in my school and my school only. But no! The Fonz received an Academy Award for the it. I'm not crazy. I'm not an alien. I'm made out of people! It also turns out that the center Hollywood square rotates -- Burt Reynolds is on deck for next week. So Ellen isn't the new Hoopie. Good news for Ellen's career. Though maybe all it takes is a week on H2 to ruin everything? I'll be watching your next steps carefully, Ellen. And Burt aside, the squares lined up for next week (Jillian Barberie? Christopher Lowell?) don't seem as primed to soar as they were this week. So it looks like tonight's show was just a fluke. And I find that very comforting. Because really, I hate change. Like Rick the "Mad Sign-tist and Chron Prince". He's closing up shop, after 24 years selling papers at the Embarcadero BART stop. The Chronicle is pulling the plug on its PM edition, which is what Rick was all about, so now he's out of a job. Shit. I've been loving his freaky, punny signs for years now:
All this week, he's had a sampling of his signs from over the years lined up in the BART station. Some of the puntastic signs Rick's been making since 1978. Rick is on my list of "Things I Heart Real Bad in SF", along with the five-foot rubber band ball and the thunder and lightning in the Safeway produce aisle and the chalk outlines someone's drawn around the shadows on the sidewalk in my neighborhood so that when the sun is in the exact right spot, the shadow of the post box or whatever lines up perfectly with its outline. But now he's gone. Double shit. Change! I am full of rage at you! Rick the Mad Sign-tist is out of a job as of this Friday.
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