Say it Aint So, Moe

I note this week amazing changes in the offing.

Have you heard of the A-11 offense? This is where High School coaches play two quarterbacks and nine receivers since its believed offensive lines can't stop linebackers who've evolved too fast to block.

Progress like this isn't always physically possible. Scientists say there's a foreign language gene, for example, which turns itself off after adolesence. I don't doubt it judging by the way the genes in my body controlling brazil nut allergy and lactose intolerance flick on and off like light switches.

Apparently age is key: Joseph Horowitz' new Artists in Exile tracks careers of younger Europeans who flourished in America, older ones who couldn't adjust, and some, like Garbo, who achieved a certain stasis, not returning home, yet keeping their distance.

Its not just about space, though, it's time too.

A recent concert at Lisner Auditorium featured Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester playing German hits from the 1920's. According to the Post, "Introducing the hit "Mein kleiner gruner Kaktus, Max briefly outlined the plot - cactus falls from a balcony onto a neighbor's head - adding, this song is still very popular in Germany because we still think this situation is funny."

Speaking of relevant comedy, turning onto TCM last Saturday morning, waiting for sister Jill to arrive, I watched The Three Stooges Go Around the World in a Daze - another situation you still think is funny or you never did.

I opt for the former. Look, all the classic elements are present in this film - even the ancient Niagria Falls Slowly I Turn gag, not initiated here by the usual Curlian, "Moe, Larry, the Cheese," triple-chant, but by Larry playing Three Blind Mice on a snake charmer's pipe.

Even so, when this film was produced in '63, the times they were a'changin: an attempted double-eye poke is retrieved by a chagrined Moe, who says, "We don't do that anymore," referring to the PTA's dubious campaign of the day to rein in the faux violence.

I couldn't help wondering if they were around today, might the Stooges visit Dr. 90120? Could botox, a facelift, and a reality show where the three boys lived together as off-kilter roommates, revitalize this beloved trio for contemporary audiences?

I gotta tell ya - as I was flipping channels before landing on TCM (the Today Show on 4, the Early Show on 9, 'The Suite Life of Zack & Cody on Fox), nothing was remotely competitive. The actors playing Zack & Cody appear to be the same cookie-cutter 'stars' I never recognize on the Red Carpet runway shows prior to the Emmys.

Wasn't there a time you knew everybody? I had a paperback once with short bio's of every Major Leaguer including five rotating Cubs managers. The Eye Magazine Rock Pile poster on my bedroom wall displayed members of every rock band who counted. It was all so manageable.

Speaking to friend Larry this week I previewed an upcoming Spotsyltuckian piece on how Harvard, for God's sake, is growing unstereotypically competitive -- I thought Ivy League schools still played walk-on's - you know, where someone in the quad on Thursday with a megaphone shouts, "hey, who wants to play on Saturday?"

"C'mon Spotsy," Larry responded, "do you live in a Marx Brothers movie?"

Turning down hometown Caroline Street, espying Jack Elam leaning hard against the wall of Hunan Gardens flipping a coin, I know who and what to fear. Stopping off at the fire station to pet Sammy the Dalmation, spotting Burt Mustin asleep in his chair, I recognize how to grow old usefully by grace. Barry Fitzgerald, sweeping the steps of St. Georges, exemplifies a natural practice of faith. Drinking a milkshake at Goolricks, next to William Schallert, kindly scion to the Patty Duke family, and countless others, teaches all I need know regarding the dispensation of fatherly wisdom.

A scurrilous rumor going round says if Moe hadn't died in 1975, the Stooges intended to team up with the Ritz Brothers to make an R rated movie.

Say it aint so, Moe.