My question is this; what kind of monster removes a building that is shaped like a giant ice cream dispensing owl? Not only did this edifice resemble an enormous nocturnal predator, but the “head” also spun around a complete 360 degrees and its “eyes” glowed in the dark.

Well ok, maybe a gigantic winged marauder with night-piercing vision, and an unsettling ability to twist its head like Linda Blair on a three day devil-bender is a strange choice of imagery to lure in little children if your plan is to serve them delicious chilly treats and not coax them in a giant oven for purposes of devouring them – but then again a crazy-eyed, red-headed, burger-hawking clown hasn’t slowed down a certain modern fast food chain.

So as the group is all busy pitching in, burning walkers and burying people, (I loved that Glen made the distinction) Andrea continued to sit in a tunnel-visioned vigil. She ignored Lori, drew a gun on Rick, but did allow kindly ol’ Dale to pay his last respects. This scene said quite a bit about Dale. Aside from the fact he admitted to losing his wife to cancer, and he withdrew from society, what we are really seeing is Dale’s innate ability to connect to people on an emotional level. Rick may be the protector of this group, but Dale may very well become the emotional rock, a wise community elder if you will.

Not long ago, Jim was busy digging holes. Now we discover he has one himself – deep and bloody on his torso. At first he tried to pass it off as so much splatter, but it is soon discovered he has been bitten, and a bite is a certain undeath sentence. For all his half-cocked violence, Daryl may very well be ahead of the curve when it comes to dealing with the problems in this new world. No one else is ready to follow the dead shot redneck’s trigger finger philosophy, but I’m beginning think eventually others will start to fall in line with his brand of thought. Even Daryl however was not expecting the cathartic brutality in which Carol, dead Ed’s long-suffering wife, employed on the skull of her recently deceased spouse.

The biggest conflict in this episode came between cop/Lori partners, Rick and Shane. Readers of the comic book may have expected a different ending in the scene where Shane lines Rick up in his rifle sight, but this team has not shied from veering from the original script yet and I wasn’t surprised to see them go a different direction here either. Shane is too valuable a character to lose yet (if ever) so it’s nice to see we’re heading for even more uncomfortable moments between Shane and the Grimes clan.

By the way, I realize this may only be me, but I have to admit I did not know what “C.D.C.” stood for.  Luckily I’ve never needed to be familiar with the initials for the Center of Disease Control in my lifetime, so my ignorance on the abbreviation has not harmed me in any significant way thus far. I will assume Morgan does understand what C.D.C. stands for, because my girlfriend, who was watching with me, let me know in no uncertain terms that I was in the minority for having no idea what those letters stood for. My point to all of this is if I were Morgan, and I traveled a good number of miles on foot, and (maybe) with my son, by the time I arrived at camp, and discovered a note taped to a red car telling me this area is not safe, head to the C.D.C, I’d be pretty effin’ pissed off. Maybe I rely too much on Google. Note to self. Googling will be obsolete during the zombie revolution. Learn as much as I can right now. Extra note to self. Don’t believe everything you read in Wikipedia.

Not everyone felt the C.D.C. was the proper location to travel. Shane once more was more than willing to challenge Rick’s call, and his idea, it could be argued, was just as sound. The only drawback was it was 100 miles in the opposite direction, and as Rick mentioned, it is believed the military base lost its war to walker infestation. The group got even smaller when Morales and his family decided they were going to find their own kin. Normally when a show does something like this, you can count on one of two things. Either part of that clan comes back, with horrible stories of the rest of them being eaten, or we’ll see Morales return as a walker himself. I tend to think it’s entirely possible that’s the last we may see of the Morales clan. I think it’s very likely in real life that would be the last you see of a group who decides to make it on their own, and this show has done a nice job painting a realistic vision of this unrealistic zombie apocalypse.

Realism reared its head again when Jim decided he could no longer travel in the trailer. In his words, his bones were like glass. He was clear, and he wanted to be left on the side of the road. Not unlike the Jack Kevorkian right-to-die argument, the gang had to decide if this was a road they were willing to go down as a group. Wise old Dale seemed to sum it all up when he voted Jim should have the dignity to choose how he wants to end his own life, though part of that decision may have come from how much Jim was obviously funking up his Winnebago.

Finally the gang arrived at the C.D.C. (Those initials are now permanently burned into my brain in case of future zombie attacks.) Again, the sound and sight of the flies swarming around the stacks of the dead made that scene grotesquely palpable. You really could almost taste the putrid stench that hung in the air surrounding the building. Inside, Jenner has gone utterly mad, or at least he’s been drinking more red wine than usual, and that always results in a pretty bad headache. While looking at slides under a microscope that reminded me of my Itunes Visualizer, he knocked over an experiment and accidentally sealed the fate of the world. Thanks for that Jenner. As Shane, Rick and the rest approach his solitary sanctuary, Jenner is not sure he wants the company, and the walkers are making Shane and the rest suddenly very unsure of Rick’s hunch.

Of course, at the last moment, Jenner opens the door, and our survivors are bathed in a Close Encounters type of white light that promises “everyone is going to be safe from now on.” I’m betting against it.

In summation, I felt this episode, while still great, was just a tad less great than the previous efforts. No complaints. I wasn’t expecting perfection in every tale. Part of my frustration may have stemmed from the fact I found the audio to be a bit muddy, and had to rewind the TiVo a few times to understand what was said. Most likely though this chapter was just a slight deceleration on the gas, because I suspect next week’s season finale is going to put the pedal to the metal. Like LOST’s Desmond in hatch, I believe next season will take us to new places, introduce new characters, and we’ll be saying farewell to some we’ve grown to love. I can’t wait.

Followers of the books (like myself) have to be impressed with how fresh this creative team has managed to keep these stories. Characters who weren’t originally conceived for the comic pages have blended nicely with those who were fully realized for the print version and no one is crying foul. If anything we’re grateful for the brand new revelations. Two such departures from the books are redneck brothers Merle and Daryl Dixon. Merle is openly and aggressively racist, while his brother Daryl seems merely mildly bigoted, but it’s nice to see neither character is a walking hillbilly cliché.

At first many of us assumed these newbies would only amount to so much zombie fodder, but it appears that the late additions to the cast are as compelling as any from the black and white monthlies. Merle is obviously not the type of character we’re used to rooting for, but you have to sit back and give the good ol’ boy his propers when it comes to kicking zombie ass and taking zombie names – especially after sawing his own hand from his shackled arm. Talk about literally winning a war single handedly. You may not like Merle’s world view, and you’re right not to, but if Rick can get this guy to be a team player, Merle would be an asset to a now depleted camp.

Little brother Daryl for his part showed himself to be more than a one-dimensional character as well. His ability with a crossbow is an asset in a world where a shotgun fire can give away your location to a certain flesh-hungry enemy. His bravery and determination are admirable, and the esteem in which he holds his imperfect brother is actually touching. My guess is Daryl understands Merle’s douchiness only too well, but at the same time, he marvels at his big brother’s physical and mental toughness. I’m betting we’re going to find out aside from Merle’s obvious social imperfections, he’s a loyal family man, and that’s possibly where Daryl’s determination to rescue Glen comes from.

As if to balance out the testosterone of the Brothers Dixon relationship, we were also introduced to the sisterly love of Andrea and Amy. Fishing in Dale’s boat, the girls had a much more hormonal moment of familial bonding, which of course in hindsight only foreshadowed Amy’s ultimate demise.

Family played a big role in this episode. Lori is trying desperately to keep hers together while Jim was out digging holes in the hot Atlanta sun because he no longer has a wife and kinds to protect and rely on. Easily the most chilling line of the series so far came from Jim after Shane subdued him, “The only reason I got away is because the dead were too busy eating my family.”

Just as I copied that quote down, it dawned on me that (unless I’m mistaken) we have yet to hear the word “zombie” come from anyone in four episodes. We’ve heard “walkers,” “the dead,” “geeks” and “those things.” We’ve even heard the “N-word” fly freely and effectively, offensively from Merle’s uncensored lips, but apparently, the Z-word” is taboo.

Ok, back to the family theme. Since these writers have made points to not present their audience with a bunch of stereotypical individuals, it was nice to see we weren’t handed a group of bas ass Mexican gangsta opportunists. The Vatos were in all likelihood an even closer knit group than the gang back at camp. I have to admit, I was a little skeptical of Rick’s plan, and if I had any negative criticism it would have been I found it tough to swallow that a trained officer like Rick would walk into an unfamiliar building, knowing full-well that he was completely outmanned, and outgunned. That said, I decided to forgive the scene when it was revealed the Vatos were not a group of bloodthirsty banditos and were much more concerned for the welfare of the nursing home inhabitants than shedding unnecessary blood.

This leads nicely into one of the other show’s other themes; social status. Janitors are running communities, pizza guys are brilliant tacticians, and Shane, a man who’s been a cop for his entire professional life, is finding being a cop isn’t as easy as it was. The world has changed, according to T-Dog, but as Guillermo points out, it really hasn’t. The weak still get taken.

Side note, I’d like to point out how dumb the name “T-Dog” sounds to me. Of course the name “IronE” (the man who plays T-Dog) seems a bit weird too, but at least that moniker doesn’t sound as hopelessly dated – it’s just strange. I’m wondering if T-Dog had a closet full of shiny suits and harem pants and a copy of M.C. Hammer’s “Too Legit To Quit” in his car’s tape deck before the apocalypse.

Side note, after that side note. I’m betting Rick’s hat, and the repeated retrieval of said hat is a tip of the cap to Indiana Jones. I’m curious if this will play out for the length of the series run, or if it was just a one episode incident.

Once again, back to the review. I have to admit, I was a little surprised to find it wasn’t Merle who was back in camp exacting his brand of misguided justice, but rather a pack of Z-words out for a midnight snack. This of course brings us back to the other theme of “surprise.” It really says a lot for this show to actually surprise the viewers of a zombie show with a zombie attack. And a bloody one it was. Sure we said farewell to some red shirts, as well as wife-abusing Ed, but also lost in the melee was soon-to-be birthday girl, Amy. Amazing as this seems, we were over 4 hours into this tale of undead cannibals before we ever witnessed an actual attack on a human.

We didn’t see it yet, but I don’t think I’m letting any spoilers loose in a zombie TV show when I speculate even though Amy and Ed won’t have any more speaking roles, I have a strong hunch they’ll be up and around in some form next week.

And with that, I’ll wrap up this review, but join me after next Sunday’s penultimate episode. Same Z-word time. Same Z-word column.

Howard picked up his first Hollywood gig at the tender age of three, acting opposite his older brother Ron on the Andy Griffith Show. Since then it’s been a steady stream of roles, many of them of the offbeat variety. I sat down with Howard at his favorite Cajun restaurant in Burbank (he recommended the spoonbread) to talk about his weird Hollywood experiences. He was kind enough to bring along a coupon for 8 dollars off the meal. (He must have gotten wind of my limited expense budget.)

One of Howard’s fondest Hollywood memories comes not on a studio lot, but on a softball diamond. Garry Marshall, the executive producer of the wildly popular show, Happy Days, feared his cast of young wealthy actors might succumb to the temptations of fame in 70’s Hollywood, so he encouraged the cast to put together a softball team.

The Happy Days Softball Team

“I was a pretty good high school player, I caught a little when I was a Junior. Around that time, the Happy Days show got a team together. They would play Sunday double headers in Poinsettia Park in Hollywood – We played against guys like Alice Cooper, which was cool, because I’ve always considered him to be this icon.

There was this core group of Happy Days people who were big baseball fans, so they started up this team. Ron (Howard) must have volunteered me because I was pretty good, and I was a pseudo celebrity. Henry (Winkler) knew nothing about sports. He grew up in Manhattan. He never participated, never watched sports, but for some reason, he had this innate ability to throw an underhanded strike. He had this little fade, maybe because his arm was so weak, but his ball would always go in. I saw this as a catcher and thought, this works. Now he couldn’t field. If the ball ever got hit to him, he’d throw like a girl, but people worked with him…Henry developed into a really good pitcher, and he ending up hitting, and he was the Fonze, so it made so much sense for Henry to pitch.”

The team enjoyed almost as much success in the final box scores as they did in the Nielsen Ratings, and Marshall decided they should tour the country. “We played in Wrigley Field in Chicago,” Howard smiles wide and recollects, “We played in Milwaukee, Shea Stadium. We played at Veteran’s Stadium in Philadelphia in front of 60,000 people.

Their team had (former Philadelphia 76ers) Doug Collins and Hal Greer, I think (former Phillies centerfielder) Richie Ashburn. I’m catching and there’s this 50-year old Hall-of Famer Hal Greer, and he was still in great shape. And Henry’s pitch – I knew – inside on the hands. These guys would stride in to hit it and Henry would leak it in on their hands. Pop up after pop up after pop up. Henry was really effective. We won that game. I’d say we won about 70 percent of our games.”

The Clint Howard Variety Show

Catching Fonzie’s fastballs is one thing, but pitching show ideas to Steven Spielberg, David Geffen and Jeffrey Katzenberg is another ballgame all together. During the big dotcom craze of the early 2000’s Howard was the host of the short-lived cult classic, The Clint Howard Variety Show.

“ I interviewed people like Adam Sandler and Andy Dick, Sally Kirkland and Judge Reinholt.

The celebrity interviews took place in those low beach chairs in a corner of a vacant lot. I’d interview someone like Johnny Ramone, for like 50 seconds, and I’d ask two quick questions and by the time the third question came up I’d go ‘Oh, I’m sorry that’s all the time we have for this segment, but as you know each guest on the Clint Howard Variety Show receives 15 dollars and a turkey. Turkey provided by Haaandy Market Restaurant. Handy Market of Burbank, your neighborhood grocer since 1967.’ Then my sidekick, my announcer, Big Mike, would come over with this big dripping turkey in a bag and hand it to the celebrity and I’d pull out fifteen dollars out of my pocket and give it to the guest.”

Meeting Nixon

Shooting the breeze with big name celebrities was a piece of cake for Howard, who cut his journalistic teeth when he was ten years old. His first interviewing gig was a no holds barred, one-on-one with then sitting President, Richard Milhouse Nixon, for the Art Linkletter special, A Kids’ Eye View of Washington.

“It was Maureen McCormick from The Brady Bunch, Darby Hinton from Daniel Boone, me, and this young actor named H.B. Barnum III. And nobody could ever figure out what HB had done or been in, but ya know, he filled out the roster.”

Howard had enjoyed his trip to the nation’s capitol. He and his cast mates reported on the obligatory D.C. landmarks, and they even studied and did homework in the basement of the Smithsonian Institute, but in comparison, that was so much child’s play for the child actor. He was especially excited about meeting pre-Watergate scandal, President Nixon. Howard was allowed to come up with one question himself. After some deliberation the hard-hitting, pre-pubescent thespian turned reporter decided to grill the leader of the free world in his inimitable take no prisoners style, “I said, ‘Mr. President, I’m a young actor, and I pay taxes, yet I don’t get to vote. Isn’t that taxation without representation?’” It’s easy to see, even decades later, Howard is still pleased at himself for coming up with the probing inquiry.

“They wouldn’t let me ask him that question, but I was kind of hoping for a big tax refund. ‘Cause here I was, I’d been on a TV series, I made a quite a bit of money, I paid a lot of taxes and I didn’t get a vote. Come On! What’s with that?”

Meeting Lucas

If Howard was calm and collected while meeting Nixon, he was an absolute bundle of nerves a few years later when he was summoned by movie making legend George Lucas.

“I went in to meet George Lucas, and I believe I was auditioning for Star Wars. They knew who I was; they were seeing everybody in town. I was nervous; I was about 17 years old at the time, or whatever I was, maybe 16. I walk into the room, and the first person I see is Francis Ford Coppola – and he’s a larger than life human being.  George had his back to me. He was sitting in a big leather chair. George isn’t a big guy, so he was sort of engulfed by this leather chair and he swiveled around and I see him for the first time, and he’s a little diminutive guy, and he looks at me and goes, ‘Commander Balok. The Corbomite Maneuver. May I offer you some Tranya?’ And in my mind, all my nervousness went away, and the only thought I had was, ‘Jesus, George, get a life.’”

(A seven-year-old Howard played the role of Commander Balok in the Star Trek episode, The Corbomite Maneuver. In one scene the young Howard – although voiced by a much older man – jubilantly offers William Shatner’s Kirk a glass of “tranya” as a gesture of good will.)

Meeting a Bear

“Oh yeah, it was scary at first, but right away they showed me that he was a vegetarian.” Howard confessed when asked about being told he’d be working opposite a 500 bear in the 1967 TV show, Gentle Ben. “ The first thing they did, they took me to the compound. Now I knew what a carnivorous creature was – so they threw this huge steak his way. He sniffed it, he didn’t like it, and then they threw a box of donuts and he immediately wolfed down this box of donuts.”

Howard insisted at first that his experience on Gentle Ben wasn’t weird at all. He remembers the entire experience with great fondness, “I got to work with my dad (character actor Rance Howard) and working with all those animals. Talk about it being an adventure.” After it was brought to his attention that while in elementary school, his annual paycheck was much more than the average college educated executive, and these wages were predicated on him frolicking around with a giant wild beast, he reluctantly agreed with the weird angle.

“What that bear really liked was sweets. The bear ate 24 loaves of bread a day. It ate a couple of bags of Monkey Chow, they’d roll out, oh I don’t know a half a dozen heads of lettuce for roughage, and he’d eat donuts and drink Coke like this. (Howard pantomimes the enormous furry converted omnivore drinking large bottle of soda)  He’d have one of those big bottles of Coke, guzzle it down – spill it on himself. They’d put cookies in my pocket, or rub honey on my hand. When they did the famous shot of the bear kissing me, I had a Life Saver in my mouth.  He also didn’t have any front teeth and didn’t have any front paws.”

Hollywood has put up with its share of demanding monster-sized divas, (Roseanne Barr for instance) so when the bear wanted his own trailer, the executives promptly provided one. “It was really hot down in Florida, and he’s a California Black Bear and weighed about 500 pounds. A lot of times it would get hot and the bear would just lay down. It was too hot. So by the second season – we’re a popular show – so they built an air-conditioned trailer for the bear. That’ll fix everything, right? Well the first day, the bear likes it in the trailer. They couldn’t get him out. They literally had to get a bunch of teamsters to jack up the trailer and slide the bear out, and the next day that trailer went away. After that they put him in the shade.”

Suddenly Howard felt compelled to share a final Gentle Ben factoid. “There were always some other critters running around that set – raccoons, elephants. Did you ever see an elephant take a leak? It just amazed me as a seven-year-old kid. And that bear would take these prodigious dumps. Just prodigious! Of course, if you eat 24 loaves of bread, you’re going to crap.”

And with those parting words, Clint Howard took his leave of the restaurant. I made my way to the men’s room, for I had just eaten prodigious amounts of Cajun-style spoonbread.

I’ve been an avid reader of The Walking Dead graphic novels, and was looking forward to the introduction of Glenn. Being a fan of the books however, I was confused by the addition of some of the new characters. At first I felt a little aggravated by the addition of extra members to a cast that has worked so well in black, white and gray-washed paper form for 7 years. This script doesn’t need improvements from anyone I silently bellowed. It then dawned on me how this TV version might be more entertaining for me, since part of being entertained is the surprise of not knowing what comes next. This team has won my trust based on the sheer brilliance of the pilot episode, so I will allow for the variations for now.

Speaking of the pilot, while last week’s high on tension, low on dialogue premiere was a fresh take on your archetypal zombie flick, this week was a familiar plot to the undead genre. The hungry husks hammering at the department store doors were reminiscent of granddaddy Romero’s own creations, though I remain impressed with the level of just-humanity-enough-to-elicit-sympathy-for-their-plight make-up on these zombified film extras.

I was glad to see the zombies seemed unable to climb the fire escape. We know they’re clever enough to crawl under tanks while in pursuit of their prey, but climbing fire escapes would seem out of a zombie’s skill set. I haven’t quite figured out the level of zombie intelligence on this program yet. Morgan’s zombie wife may or may not have a faded memory of her former home, but she certainly didn’t have the intelligence to pick up a rock and smash through the living room window, so I was surprised to find at least one zombie in Sunday’s installment had that type of strategic logic.

Speaking of strategic logic, Michael Rooker has a knack of playing intensely relentless douche bags, and he once again strikes that note in the character of Merle. Now I don’t understand the need to spew racial epithets in any circumstance, but even if I did have those feelings, I think I’d be bright enough to keep those sentiments to myself if I felt I might have to rely on a different skin color to help me escape a city of flesh-eating monsters. It’s a safe bet you don’t sign Michael Rooker on to a show like this only to have him die off camera after one episode, so it looks like he’ll somehow free himself with the help of the tool belt that T-Dog accidentally kicked over. My hunch is Merle will be itching for another fight the next time he runs into his old rooftop companions.

Even though T-Dog had legitimate reasons to leave Merle cuffed to the pipe, he risked his life to rescue the ill-tempered redneck. Of course he’s going to have a hard time making the rest of his surviving team members believe he honestly did lose the key in an attempt to free the raging racist, especially, judging by the coming attractions, the raging racist’s little brother.

Ok, let’s get to the heart of this episode, or more specifically, the guts. In a considerable leap of theoretical faith, the gang assumes the chief reason zombies hone in on them is their odor. The thinking here is if the living can so keenly smell the rotting soft tissues of the walking dead, then conversely, the existing humans must too give off a scent, and that scent is what attracts the zombies their way. Ipso facto, let’s all smear the putrid innards of a “turned” human on Rick and Glenn, and let’s see if they can Thriller-walk their way out of danger and return to help the others escape.

In what has to be one of the grossest moments in all of television history, the body is chopped with an axe and our protagonists are painted with the blood, entrails and bowels of an ironic organ donor. If you as an audience member had managed to keep your gag reflex in check for the entire scene, bully for you, but I suspect Glenn’s vomitous expulsion caused an extra dose of dry heaving for some.

If there’s a concern for the series on my part it’s this: with only 4 episodes to go this season, we still haven’t met up with Rick’s wife and son, Lori and Carl. That naturally means Rick hasn’t witnessed the relatively new relationship between his trusted cop partner Shane and his aforementioned spouse. Anybody expecting civil discourse when these two buddies get reunited?

I won’t say this chapter was as good as last week’s episode, and part of that was the fact that I was so captivated by the isolated horror coupled with the genuine heart and sadness in the hour and a half pilot episode that this week felt a bit less original and more traditional in terms of zombie stories. That said, it was still a great hour of entertainment, and as the rest of the cast is fleshed out, I have no doubt this series will only get stronger.

The series is an adaptation (and judging from last night’s episode, a faithful one at that) of Robert Kirkman’s black and white monthly graphic novel. The comic book series was launched in 2003 and is still going strong, so as long as they stick to the source material and deliver the same caliber of horrifyingly taut entertainment as last night, I have nothing but the highest of hopes for this program. If Sunday night is any indication of the level of programming we’re in for with this show, this is very good news for genre geeks as well as so-called normal fans of quality television. The writing, acting, art direction, special effects, make-up, stunt work and cinematography were all top notch.

Zombie movies typically make their biggest impact during the attack scenes, and while the sight of our hero Rick crawling underneath an army tank for safety only to realize his zombie predators are pretty good crawlers as well was terrifyingly claustrophobic, some of the tightest moments came from what we weren’t shown.

Imagine the sheer dread of waking up in a hospital bed days later from a severe gunshot wound only to find you’re the only living soul in the entire building. No other people, no electricity, no cell phone, just a half eaten rotting corpse in the hallway and an ominously locked door you instinctively know not to open.

Horror has become almost mainstream on TV in recent years, and as good as shows like True Blood and Supernatural have been, The Walking Dead has the potential to be leagues better. The trick here is the absolute believability in which this story is being told. Sure a campy gay vampire who runs around with the bloody remains of his centuries old lover in a huge glass jar while declaring war on human beings during a live news broadcast is great entertainment. So is the tale a couple of battle weary brothers who fight off different weekly paranormal evils in between clever quips, but what sets The Walking Dead apart from those similarly themed, but altogether differently toned programs is the realism that comes through in the performances and the writing. True Blood and Supernatural are pleasurable pastimes, but you never get the sense that those worlds could become your world. That’s the appalling and pragmatic beauty of The Walking Dead. No detail is too small for this team, and the attention given to the small details presents the viewer a greater appreciation for the larger ones.

The fact that the windshield on Rick’s car is filthy made perfect sense, and allowed the viewer a sense of elapsed time. Not a lot of television shows would have the forethought to make sure a seemingly insignificant detail like that is taken care of, and we the audience may not have complained if the windshield was clear, but that tiny element delicately reminded us of the bleak situation. Similarly, a lesser show would not have taken into consideration the effects on the auditory system of firing a live round inside the cramped quarters of a homogeneous steel box. These guys did.

Another nice detail I noticed was how Rick did not become automatically desensitized to his awful situation. Too often in zombie fare, the main character goes from neophyte to grizzled veteran almost immediately after his first encounter with the undead. Here, we are being taken for a slow and intense descent into hell on earth. In a relatively short span, our hero has now seen some revolting sights, and has had to face the fact that even if his wife and child are still alive, he may never see them again. His will not be an easy journey – but it’s a good bet none of the human survivors are going to be overly joyful.

10 seconds of silence in television terms is widely regarded of as an eternity, but actor Andrew Lincoln (Rick) played many of his scenes without the benefit of a single line of dialogue and the scenes rang true. Undoubtedly he’ll start talking to himself down the line, and of over the course of time Rick will become less and less responsive to the day-to-day agony he will come to endure. For now however, the character has not yet become hardened to his austere surroundings and watching his measured decline/evolution will be one of the more interesting components to this show.

Let me put it this way, I’m a grown man. I’ve seen more than my share of zombie movies, and I’ve hated some, (maybe most) and loved others. You know what I’ve never ever done during a zombie movie before? Cried.

Andrew Lincoln is a fantastic actor and his work was stellar, but it was Lennie James, of Jericho fame, who gave such a moving performance as the husband/father trying to keep himself and his son safe from harm, while he wrestles with the heartbreaking fact that he is incapable of putting the love of his life out of her zombified misery that moved me to tears. It was a powerful scene in an hour and a half of gripping drama.

To put it succinctly, here’s my review of the pilot: If you didn’t completely and utterly love this program then you are a big, fat, stupid douche bag. I give this pilot episode an A+, and I can’t wait for next Sunday.

The nickname “Black Dahlia” is one Short garnered in death. She typically dressed in black from head to toe. She also was frequently seen with a flower tucked in her raven dyed hair, just behind her ear. A movie entitled, “The Blue Dahlia” starring Allan Ladd and Veronica Lake was popular at the time, and it is assumed the posthumous moniker developed from both the film’s recognition with the public, and Short’s theatrical every day appearance.

The immediate cause of death, according to the coroner’s report was hemorrhage and shock due to concussion of brain and lacerations of face, but that doesn’t paint much of the gruesome picture. Elizabeth Short was kidnapped, brutally tortured, and  sexually violated over the last three days of her existence.

The murder of Elizabeth Short has baffled police and amateur sleuths for decades. The case is undeniably intriguing. Why was this pretty young woman killed in such a horrific manner, and what kind of monster would commit such cruel acts to a defenseless human being? As each new day passes, it becomes less and less probable this vile crime will ever be solved.

Short has been inaccurately described as a prostitute in a number of books and articles written about her. It’s probably fair to say she was a quite the opposite. Not that she didn’t enjoy the attention of men; Short developed physically at an early age, and understood the power she possessed over the masculine gender, but she is most likely better described by men who dated her as a “tease.” Some experts claim one reason Short should not be characterized as a loose woman, is she was ashamed of a condition known as “infantile genitalia,” (underdeveloped genitals in a full grown adult) though just like nearly every other piece of this puzzle, that theory has been deemed false by other so-called authorities on the subject.

What does ring closer to the truth is the melodramatic, but often financially strapped head-turner dated a number of men, but often it was more for the free dinner, which might be repaid by a peck on the cheek, and no more. In letters to her one-time military fiancée, there is evidence the two were waiting until the night of the honeymoon to consummate their love. Tragically, he was killed in a plane crash, and the event left Short mentally shaken to the point she would occasionally make up stories to friends in which she and her late “husband” had a child who died at childbirth.

Short has also been referred to as a dance girl, which brings to mind images of lurid lap grinding and lusty pole dancing, but she was a showgirl in a reputable supper club called the Florentine Gardens. (Yvonne DeCarlo, TV’s Lily Munster, also is alleged to have danced at the same club when she was starting out in show business.) It was at the Florentine Gardens that Short may have originally met a young Marilyn Monroe – the two were said to have been friends. Monroe had her first wedding reception at the club when she was just 16 years old. Was Monroe frightened of someone connected to the Florentine Gardens who also might be connected to the Black Dahlia Murder? Before the murder, Monroe was frequently seen at the dance hall, after Short’s death however, Monroe refused to enter the establishment. There is no way of knowing exactly what happened all those years ago, but what we do know is this:

On January 15, 1947, Betty Bersinger and her three-year old daughter were walking along the then vacant lots of L.A.’s Norton Avenue when the young housewife noticed something large and white among the overgrown weeds. At first she assumed it was discarded garbage, and then it seemed to be two sections of an unclothed department store mannequin. Upon closer inspection, the unsuspecting woman realized it was the severed body of a woman. Shielding her young child’s eyes, Bersinger ran to the closest house and phoned the police.

Officers Will Fitzgerald and Frank Perkins were the first to arrive on the scene, and the pair immediately noted the body had been sliced in two with surgical precision, scrubbed clean and drained of all blood. They also recognized the victim’s hair was freshly shampooed. The torso and legs of the deceased had been separately yet purposefully arranged in a chillingly seductive manner – arms raised over the shoulders, and legs spread obscenely.

Rope marks were found on her wrists, ankles and neck, indicating to investigators that she had been tied and tortured for days. Her nipples had been cut off of her breasts, and her mouth had been sliced with a knife from ear to ear – giving her the dehumanizing appearance of a ghoulish circus clown.

The autopsy later revealed more horrifying surprises. A tattoo of a rose from her left leg was cut sliced off and shoved inside her vagina along with clumps of grass. Contents of her stomach contained human feces, which it is surmised she was forced to consume, and her reproductive organs were missing, leading some to speculate perhaps Short was pregnant at the time of her death. Some theories suggest she was impregnated by either a high-ranking city official, or perhaps a mob boss, and refused to have an abortion.

The unfortunate woman also had signs of blunt trauma to her face and head, and was in all probability made to endure acts of depraved sexual acts. It is also believed the murderer committed similar sexual acts well after Short finally passed away.

Not long after the titillating story hit the press, dozens of “Confessing Sams” came out of the woodwork claiming they were the killer. The police had a long list of suspects, but sadly were never able to pin the horrendous deed on anyone. The case has gone officially unsolved and will undoubtedly always remain one of the darkest tales ever to come out of Hollywood.

For years now, Robbie Rist has been unjustly saddled with the burden of being the “shark” the Brady clan “jumped,” thus ending a six-year run of primetime family friendly entertainment. To say his portrayal of Cousin Oliver ruined the show is an inaccurate cheap shot, one Rist not only takes in stride, but also one seems to wear as a badge of perverse pride.

I met the former child-star for burritos and beer at the famous El Compadre Mexican restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. Traffic from the Valley delayed his arrival by a full hour, but the bartender seemed to have no shortage of cerveza, and I must confess, it’s not every day I meet a Brady kid (even if it’s only the cousin) so by the time Rist arrived, he was already 3 beers behind me. I believe he took that as a challenge, and ordered himself a mug of the frosty brew.

His still cherubic face, though now hidden behind a scruffy five-o’clock shadow, belies his approach to middle age. Despite the whiskers, he hasn’t changed much since the seventies when he and Bobby became convinced that Alice’s long-time beau, Sam the Butcher, was in fact an undercover Russian spy.

If however you don’t recognize him physically, there is no mistaking the voice. It’s pure laid-back, comically nasal, California boy-genius.

You would also recognize his vocal talents if you were a fan of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movies in the early 90’s. Rist voiced the easy-going, nunchuck wielding Michelangelo, sometimes better known as, “the one with the orange mask.”

Rist confesses, “My girlfriend tells me I could probably go hang out in a club where there’s a bunch of twenty something year-old women – do my Michelangelo voice and, as she says, ‘pull all kinds of tail.’”

This is followed quickly by his humble admission that fame has not translated into a bevy of beauties bouncing in and out of his bedroom.

“My relationship with my dubious stardom has always been one of work, rather than what it could get for me. In my music career I maybe only had a couple of moments where I could look out in the crowd and say hey, ‘I can make this work to my advantage’ but I think a lot of women sort of saw a nine year old head on my adult body, and well, it takes a special sort of woman to get excited about that” he chuckles his infectious elfin chuckle.

Rist has studied music since he was 3. He plays the piano, guitar, bass, drums and mandolin and credits Brady co-star Susan Olsen for his obscure musical preference. “Susan had a pretty eclectic taste in music for her age. She’d bring in Dr Demento tapes and we’d listen to them in her dressing room. Loved Barnes and Barnes, “Fish Heads” (which featured another child star Bill Mumy) Old Weird Al stuff- Susan really kind of started my life-long fascination with offbeat music.”

His IMDB page lists a plethora of iconic 70’s television; The Bionic Woman, What’s Happening, Mary Tyler Moore, and CHiPs to name but a few. As a youngster the tiny bespectacled thespian performed with some of the all-time greats. “I did an afterschool special with Jodie Foster in 1973… Talk about career trajectory. It’s like we were on the Freeway together, and we were both doing the speed limit, and she just went put her foot to the pedal and went whoooosh! I just watched her speed away.”

Both familiar and likable, a few more beers only add to his charisma. When the waiter comes by and asks if he can fetch us a couple more, Rist is all in, while I decide to take a pass this time. A sly smirk plays across his lips and he laughingly coughs out the word “pussy” as I beg off the round. No slouch in the imbibing department, I point out to my new friend that due to his tardiness, he’s still three beers behind me. Rist seems to comprehend my disadvantage, pauses a beat for comedic effect, and coughs out the insulting slur once again. He smirks happily. Immediately I call our waiter back, order another cold one, turn to the self-satisfied troublemaker and announce I will not let Cousin Oliver call me a pussy. We share a laugh that is only shared by men taunting men over the foamy amber beverage.

The conversation turns to back to Hollywood, and Rist, who had recently wrapped up producing/acting duties for a horror/comedy film, “Stump the Band” weighs in on the film industry today.

Rist on film:

“Star Wars and Rocky f@@%cked up for everybody. In the 70’s there are these great films with dour endings, you ever seen Dirty Mary Crazy Larry? They’re like we made it! We made it! Then they run into a train. But after Star Wars everybody wanted a happy ending, and it’s taken a while to get away from that philosophy.”

He concedes how difficult it is to get a break in the acting business, “The entertainment business is proof we live in a chaotic universe- where everything can and will happen.” He proclaims, “That means you can have a meteoric rise that’s over tomorrow, or you can have a slow burn, and all the sudden you’re there. Paul Giamatti is a much bigger star than he was when he did that Howard Stern movie, but it’s been a slow progression for his whole career. On the other hand, there’s probably 7500 Paul Giammatti’s all equally talented, and believe me, I think he’s a really really good actor. I watched ‘Shoot ‘Em Up’ last night, and it wasn’t a good movie by any stretch of the imagination, but he was hilarious. The thing is, there’s 7500 guys like that in this town.”

Rist on TV today:

“Herb Edelman (Rist’s co-star in the 1976 Saturday morning show, “Big John Little John”) was an amazing character actor, but he probably wouldn’t get work in TV today. He’s not scrubbed looking enough. Barney Miller was a great show. Great comedic actors – but the cast of Barney Miller could not get work on a TV show today.” Need evidence modern day sitcoms are not racially balanced? Rist shoots, “Come on. David Schwimmer played the ‘ethnic guy’ on friends. Is he that ethnic?

“Television is homogenizing everything about our culture. The New York accent is going away. So is the Southern accent. So many people watch television now that they’re all deciding, consciously or unconsciously, that that’s how we should sound. It’s sad.”

Rist on LA architecture:

“When you consider the contribution Los Angeles/Hollywood has made to culture, not just American, but world culture- the iconic images Los Angeles has sent out to the world in it’s short history, I mean this city is only like 100 years old, it’s not Rome. It’s not even New Jersey for that matter, but it’s contributed so much and sadly has no respect for it’s own history. They tore down the Ambassador Hotel. They got rid of the Brown Derby. Not that long ago they were talking about tearing down the Chinese Theater. Maybe it’s because LA is such a transient place, as opposed to say New York. In LA people come to seek their fortune, and whether they achieve that or not they move. Whereas in New York, families have been there since the 1800’s, and they want to keep the buildings they remember. Los Angeles tends to think they need to put up something new and modern all the time. It’s disappointing they have so little respect for something so unique. There’s no more Drive-Ins or Muffler Men.”

Then he delivers such a classic line, I assume he’s read it, or said it before, but it’s all spontaneous, “Hollywood treats their old buildings like they treat 40-year-old actresses. Just as they’re starting to develop some character, they tear them down and put up a new one.”

Rist on Bowl Haircuts:

“I credit the whole look to my German mother. She invented my look- well not the whole look thankfully. I have this class picture of me in elementary school. There’s a kid with a polka dot shirt, a kid with a plaid shirt, a kid with a paisley shirt and I’m the kid with the bowl-cut, wire-rimmed glasses and lederhosen. It’s probably a good thing the lederhosen didn’t catch on.”

He jokingly adds, “Peter Billingsley (The star of A Christmas Story) and Jonathan Lipnicki (Jerry Maguire) copped my look.” I’m not saying this as an ego thing or whatever, it’s just suddenly if you had a blonde bowl-cut and wired-rimmed glasses, you were this smart-mouthed kid.”

Rist on being a POP icon:

“That Cousin Oliver character has been used on the cover of the Onion twice- both for the same joke. In 1998 or whatever in was, ‘Cousin Oliver To Join Last Year Of Clinton White House.’ In 2006, the Onion cover was, ‘Cousin Oliver to Join Bush White House to Help Sagging Ratings.”

Rist on the psychological toll of being a Brady:

“ First of all, I only did six episodes of that show. They just happened to be the last six of the series,” he laughs and shrugs. “Let’s say you had a summer job as a kid. You were a camp counselor. You probably only worked there for six weeks, but for the rest of your life people come up to you and say hey didn’t you used to work at Lake Walla-Whatever? You know? I had to do a huuuge sort of emotional/intellectual reevaluation on myself, and I got depressed when I was in my late twenties. I was thinking, ‘Is it possible that the only thing I’ll be known for happened when I was nine, and I didn’t even know what I was doing?’ No one prepares you for the day it all goes away. I was nine. I had no idea that was going to be the highlight of my career, and it’s tough when that attention goes away. Since then nothing I’ve worked on has had that kind of impact, so how do you come to grips with that whole thing? By the way, I’m ok now, but it did do a number on me for a while.

Rist on coming to grips with his Brady past :

“This dude walked up to me once when I was in my early thirties- we were about the same age. He came up and said, ‘There’s always been something I wanted to tell you. When I was a kid, my mom was really poor, and she had three jobs. I was left alone in our apartment- A LOT! The episodes of the Brady Bunch that you were on helped me get through those years. Here was this kid, trapped in a world he didn’t make, finding solace in some character I was playing. It helped me get over some resentment of this stupid f@#$ing job I did as a kid for six weeks that everybody still wants to talk about. At that moment I realized it wasn’t just a stupid TV show, there was a morale message to each show, and it was more than just this squeaky clean show. It helped a lot of kids somehow, and once I realized that, I sort of learned to live with my past. And if that guy is out there reading this book, I just want to say thanks.”

And of course we at Weird Hollywood would like to say thanks, and hoist one more fermented glass of hops and barley to Robbie Rist – Television icon, student of Hollywood, and one heck of a drinkin’ buddy.