Someday I’m going to have a holiday special.
I used to think it would be cool if it was filmed someplace sunny, then broadcast when it was really cold outside, like Christmas from Tahiti, but I’m actually more partial to a classic studio route; elaborate set, comedy sketches, musical guests, extremely bad dancing.
(This was actually one of my very first goals in life, along with writing a book and helping that world peace thing happen.)
There are tons of Christmas specials already, and Thanksgiving has the parade and the dog show, but a few years ago, I discovered a magnificent lost treasure from the American Broadcasting Company: The Paul Lynde Halloween Special. It is not a great thing to watch; probably dated more than a bit, written by Bruce Vilanch, a comic genius in his very early days right before he wrote (hold on to your hats) The Star Wars Holiday Special. He went on to win several Emmys… y’know, years later.
The significance is both its Halloween theme and Paul Lynde himself. When I was like, five, I only did a few impressions - there was Ed Sullivan, John Wayne (but y’know, every kid had a John Wayne), Charles Nelson Reilly and Paul Lynde.
You probably have an image in your head right now, and it’s probably right. If you don’t, let me help you out a little bit.
Paul Lynde was a comic actor from the ‘60s and ‘70s. He was best known for his portrayal of Uncle Arthur in the TV series Bewitched and his permanent placement as the acerbic and quick-witted center square in a game show called Hollywood Squares; which was a giant tic tac toe sort of thing where people quipped for quick cash. I watched both of these shows at my Grandmother’s house when she was air quote baby sitting for me, and the impact was tremendous, because in both roles he could say three syllables and make everybody laugh.
So the idea that he had an hour long show was intriguing. Not really good, but intriguing - it’s mostly famous for the first time that the rock band KISS was on television (mainstream at least). In any case, it opened up the door for me to clearly imagine my own holiday special, “Jd Michaels - The Nearly Halloween Kid.”
See, due to some fervent wishing and impromptu exercise, I was born about a week earlier than my original due date, which was October 31st. My mother employed gentle yet purposeful calisthenics to hasten my arrival, and was somewhat relieved because she thought that a Halloween baby would be just too spooky.
Admittedly, it has proved a better option; no cakes with black icing, no cards saying Happy Boo-thday, but I’ve still always felt a little like a Halloween kid, filled with a specific pull toward the mysterious. Life’s always been between the expected and the impossible, filled with that specific anticipation one gets right before you go trick or treating, when you don’t have any idea of what you’re going to see out there (but you know it’s gonna be weird), or maybe that moment before the end of a magic trick when you think you know what’s going on but you don’t. Between what’s known and what’s unknown, between now and just a couple of seconds away from now, that’s my jam. I really like it there, which is great, because my life pretty much flows right in that pocket. More often than not.
We all know people whose lives work out like a math test you actually studied for; well-planned outfits, hairstyles still as perfect as they were when they settled on them in high school. You meet them and everything makes sense – their whole life flashes in front of your eyes, past and present… goals achieved, vacations taken.
That’s not me.
I’m a Nearly Halloween kid. My best laid plans are pudding quivers filled with zen arrows. I’ve followed paths whose maps were written on Etch-A-Sketches. On my roads most traveled you most likely hear a hearty chorus of “lions and tigers and bears oh my!”. It’s a great show…kind of a nail-biter, but not bad for 55 seasons. The cast is delightful.
So a Nearly Halloween Special would be slightly off kilter… a requisite pumpkin or two, maybe a rubber bat, but mostly a feeling of adventure and excitement. I know, Yoda said that Jedis aren't supposed to like all that, but I’m more of a Browncoat anyway.
So an opening song (“Witchcraft.” Natch.), a couple of crowd warmers, a comedy sketch about either pumpkins or bats, a cooking segment with Martha Stewart and Snoop Dogg (both guests), a medley of spooky music with Chris Thile, a tarot card reading with Diva Zappa, another sketch about bats or pumpkins, a serious reading of The Raven with live Japanese sumi-e ink painting and the Mark Morris Dance Troupe, then an orchestral everybody-sings finale of Oingo Boingo’s “Dead Man’s Party”.
That’s a tight 42 minutes. It’s coming along.
And y’know, since I started practicing when I was five, I have pretty much perfected Charles Nelson Reilly’s laugh, which has never been really useful in any social situation or direct conflict, but I still think it’s good to have in your back pocket. I’m sure it’ll be useful someday.
Uncle Arthur's Other Job