Hey gang,

Talk about fever-pitched excitement!  It's almost too much that Quentin Collins I is facing trial as a warlock (the first witchcraft trial in Maine in nearly 150 years), but to top it off, the presiding judge at the inquest of Randall Drew's death is none other than the honorable Wiley, the Pine Tree State's greatest jurist, bar none!

Yes, Wiley (a/k/a "Wily Wiley"), a man whose idea of having a good time on Saturday night, is reading the Uniform Commercial Code while enjoying a non-alcoholic, hot toddy just before retiring for the evening.

Of course, I would be extremely remiss not to acknowledge the wonderful (not to mention, much-anticipated) return of the actor portraying Judge Wiley, Mr. Addison Powell, Dark Shadows' greatest recurring guest star/character actor, IMHO.

Yes, Addison Powell, the man who wowed us all as 1797's sagacious Judge Matigan, 1968's delightfully demented Dr. Eric Lang, and now in 1840, as the learned Judge Wiley, perhaps Mr. Powell's greatest Dark Shadows performance ever!

Regrettably, Judge Wiley will not preside over the three-man tribunal to determine if Quentin is, in fact, a warlock. That weighty responsibility will fall upon the shoulders of Judge Vail (a very sullen and unimaginative jurist, IMHO).

Yet, I can't help thinking that the Dark Shadows writers missed out on a golden opportunity to provide the fans of Dark Shadows with a compelling courtroom drama during the final weeks of the program.  Imagine, if you will, that Judge Wiley, rather than Judge Vail, is the presiding judge at Quentin's warlock trial.  And, instead of the dour Desmond Collins as Quentin's defense attorney, we get to see the shocking (and, I might add triumphant) return of Jeffrey Clark (a/k/a Peter Bradford) as Quentin Collins' estimable counsel?

Oh, what unremitting joy for all Dark Shadows fans as we get to see, once more, the uproarious mirth and mayhem of Lang & Clark, this time in the incarnation of those two loony legal eagles, Wiley & Clark!

Can you imagine how "animated" Jeff Clark (a/k/a "Mr. Vicky Winters") would be in his spirited defense of his falsely-accused client?  No doubt, Counselor Clark would employ his finest histrionic gestures and techniques to convince the tribunal of Quentin's innocence.  I can just see the sixty-something Mr. Clark grabbing his still lustrous head-of-hair (now a radiant shade of battleship gray) as he beseeches the tribunal to consider Quentin's high moral standing and reputation in the community when they consider the evidence against him.

I daresay that, in a last ditch effort to save Quentin, Jeff would employ the so-called "spaghetti defense," that attorney Johnnie Cochran used so masterfully during his succesful homicide trial defense of Orenthal James Simpson, a true high point in American jurisprudence!

Of course, Judge Wiley would be the epitome of the perspicacious arbiter, a man (or woman) determined to insure that true justice be achieved according to the prescribed rules of the tribunal (and looking oh-so-cool with that new "mod" hairstle and those groovy sideburns of his).

Yes, indeed, what may have been.  Nevertheless, I think that we can all agree that Addison Powell hit, yet, another "home run," so to speak, with his timeless and unforgettable portrayal of Judge Wiley.  Touch 'em all, Mr. Powell!

Bob the Bartender, who, like the learned Judge Wiley, will be "perusing" all follow-up postings concerning this final paean to the great Addison Powell.

Hey gang,

No doubt, all of the Dark Shadows fans, who are educators, enjoyed watching today's episode in which governess/teacher Daphne Harridge vainly attempted to conduct Latin class with Tad and Carrie in the playroom (of all places!).

I particularly enjoyed the part in which the precocious Carrie was trying to conjugate the verb, "to love," with her stating, "I love, you love and she/he loves."  Of course, smart-alecky Tad couldn't resist the urge to add the name "Gerard" to "she loves" as in "Carrie loves Gerard," much to Carrie's annoyance.

Nevertheless, it could have been much worse.  I recall the movie "Up The Down Stair Case," in which Sandy Dennis played Sylvia Barrett, a young teacher (sort of like our own Daphne Harridge), who encounters many trials and tribulations as she struggles through her first year of teaching at a New York City high school.

Anyway , Ms. Barrett quickly learns that a teacher NEVER has her or his class conjugate the verb "lay."  You can imagine the uproarious outbreak that occurs when one student recites "I lay, you lay, she/he lays," in front of all of those highly "imaginative" students!  And, I shudder to think what Tad's reaction would have been, in hearing the winsome Carrie recite that particular conjugation in class.

Incidentally, I understand, from my family members and friends who are teachers, that Bel Kaufman's book "Up The Down Stair Case" was required reading for new teachers back in the 1960s.  I wonder if our Dark Shadows educators out there have had similar experiences to either those of Ms Harridge or Ms. Barrett during their years in teaching?

Bob the Bartender, who thinks that Daphne can't wait for summer vacation time to come to Collinwood.   

   

Hey Gang,

In watching Lamar Trask's feckless attempts to win the affections of the fetching and nubile Roxanne Drew, I'm reminded of a recent TV commercial for Just For Men hair coloring.

In the commercial, we see former NY Met first baseman Keith Hernandez and former NY Knick guard Walt "Clyde" Frazier providing play-by-play commentary on the "action" at a trendy New York singles bar.   A guy, with graying hair and beard, approaches a beautiful, young woman at the bar and says hello.  The woman takes one look at the fellow's Phil Donahue-like "hair style" and gives him the quick brush-off.

"Ree-jected!" both announcers exclaim.  "Clyde, that's got to hurt," opines Hernandez.  To which the always alliterative "Clyde" Frazier responds, "Yeah, no play for Mr. Gray!"

The reason that I mention this somewhat amusing commercial, is that it reminds me of the love-starved Lamar Trask's pathetic attempts to "woo" Ms. Drew.

Lamar should realize that these May-December relationships rarely work out.   Let's face it, Lamar is a guy in, at least, in his mid-forties (and he looks it with those graying sideburns!).  And, the lovely Roxanne Drew is a lovely, young lady of maybe twenty-five years or so.  What can they possibly have in common?

You don't have to be Nostradamus or Joyce Jillson to predict that the romance between the forty-something Demi Moore and the twenty-something Ashton Kutcher is probably not going to make it.

Similarly, you didn't have to be "Sex and the City's" romance columnist, Carrie Bradshaw, to know full well, that the fifty-something Bill and the then barely-twenty-something Monica, were not destined to join the ranks of such great romantic couples of Napoleon and Josephine, and J.Lo and Ben, IMHO.

So, maybe Lamar should forget about pursuing Roxanne and look for a nice lady in his own age range.  In fact, you know, how you see that other guy with the gray hair, interfacing via the internet (and "fibbing'"about his hair color), with that beautiful, dark-haired woman before a date?   Well, maybe Lamar could "interface," via the mail, with some very nice lady mortician.

I can see it now, Lamar and the lady mortician (aptly named Prunella Wockenfuss) schmoozzing over a couple of hot toddies on their first date at the Eagle Tavern.

"Well, Prunella, where do we go from here?" inquires the smitten director of the Trask Memorial Home, his hair now as jet black as Elvis Presley's.  To which the charming lady "corpse valet" replies, "Your embalming room or mine?"  Ah, romance!

Hey gang,

Being born of an FBI mother (FBI: that's Full Blooded Irish), I would like to applaud Dan Curtis and Dark Shadows writer Sam Hall for their decision NOT to portray Desmond Collins' "business associate," Tim Braithwaite, as the stereotypically dimwitted and dipsomaniac Irishman with the faux Barry Fitzgerald-like brogue today.

Yes, it's very refreshing to see an Irish character not burdened with what "Angela's Ashes" author Frank McCourt ruefully and euphemistically describes in his writings as the Irish problem of (or with) "The Drink." 

As with its characterization of the Gypsy people of the Romano tribe, Dark Shadows continues its admirable policy of portraying non-traditional peoples with a keen appreciation of, and concern for, ethnic sensitivity and inclusion.

No doubt, Dark Shadows spared no effort or expense in insuring that all disparate ethnic groups would be portrayed with the utmost respect and regard.  Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if the DS powers-that-be brought in some acknowledged experts in the field of religious, racial and ethnic tolerance, say, someone like Archie Bunker or, possibly, even Don "Mr. Warmth" Rickles himself.

Erin Go Bragh!

Bob the O'Bartender

PS Was that Joan Jett (or possibly Cher Bono) portraying the comely, dark-haired Eagle tavern barmaid today?       

Hey gang,

This old expression sounds as if it might have been the mantra of Barnabas Collins in so far as his alleged flat/house in London's Cadogan Square was concerned.

Of course, Barnabas attempted to fend off the inquisitive Desmond Collins' questions about his home in merry, olde England with this explanation today (as Mr. B. had done with the equally inquisitive Burke Devlin in 1967).

You know, I wonder if Barnabas really ever had a place in Cadogan Square?  (By the way, does Cadogan Square really exist in London?)

I can just imagine what would have happened if (in, say, 1967) cousin Carolyn actually knocked on Barnabas' front door in Cadogan Square.  Mr. B. would morph into a bat and "wing it" over to either Basil and Sybil Fawlty's four-star hotel in Torquay by the sea, or to Hyacinth Bucket's stylish home in the London suburbs (where the starstruck and affluent-people loving Mrs. Bucket would gladly put him up in her absent son Sheridan's room for a couple of days) or until Carolyn finally departed back home for the States.

I suspect that Barnabas' Cadogan Square flat/house may be as illusive as Sherlock Holmes' flat at 221 B Baker Street.

Bob the Bartender 

Hey gang,

Dan Curtis and the Dark Shadows writers deserve high praise for their exciting and thought-provoking 1995 trip-to-the-future story line.  I remember being glued to the television screen, watching these great episodes as a young kid way back in 1970.

And, even today, as a somewhat older "juvenile," I still have to marvel at Dan Curtis, et al's fascinating sojurn, "to boldly go (splint  infinitive!) where, at least, no other soap opera had gone before!"

If I have one small complaint with the trip-to-the-future story line, it is that we did not get to see more of Collinsport proper and its familiar residents, circa 1995.  Ten episodes just did not seem enough to do justice to this intriguing and unique story line.

Sure, we got to see the reassuringly familiar office of Sheriff Patterson's successor in the Collinsport Police Department building.  It was nice to see that the room's spartan decor had not changed much in twenty-five years.  (Wouldn't it have been cool to have seen an official 1995 photograph of the 42nd President of the US, William Jefferson Clinton, on the sheriff's wall, just as there had been an official 1966 photograph of the 36th President of the US, Lyndon Baines Johnson, on Sheriff Patterson's office wall?)

By the way, I get the impression that the Collinsport town fathers had to conduct a nationwide search to find Sheriff Patterson's successor.  I know that the apparently unnamed 1995 sheriff said that he had grown up in Collinsport, but to me, Collinsport's top cop sounded more like a product of Birmingham, AL than of Bangor, ME!

Of course, we got to get a quick look at the Collinsport Town Hall (which looked suspiciously like the lobby of the Collinsport Inn).  I especially enjoyed seeing the enigmatic Ed, the Collinsport Town Hall records clerk.  However, for a second there, I thought I was seeing the late, great Abe Beame.  With the grey hair, the sharp features and being short of stature, Ed looked remarkably like Mr. Beame, the former two-term mayor of New York City.  (Perhaps, such NYC-area DS fans as Raineypark, Cassandra and RobinV will agree with me in that comparison.)

Certainly, it was fascinating to see Carolyn Stoddard-Hawks, Mrs. Johnson and Prof. Stokes at their various, advanced  stages of life.  And, while Carolyn was "slightly" confused, the eternally-youthful Quentin, positively, had both oars out of the water.  ("I believe anything and everything!")

Yet, I still wish that we could have seen Barnabas and Julia visiting some of the old, familiar "haunts" of Collinsport.  Was the Collins Cannery still a thriving business in 1995?  (As we shall see, not all of the unseen and unaccounted for Collinses perished in the summer of 1970, but, much more about that later on.)

Does Widow's Hill still look the same in 1995?  Perhaps the land was sold, and beautiful (not to mention extremely expensive) homes were built there, to take advantage of the panoramic view of the beautiful Atlantic Ocean.

Nevertheless, the one "unforgivable" mortal sin that Dan Curtis committed , IMHO, is that we did NOT get to see the beloved Blue Whale Tavern.  Now, I'll freely admit that the Blue Whale is my favorite Dark Shadows set because it housed my all-time favorite DS character/role model, bartender Bob Rooney.

Surely, we all got to see so many memorable events in Bob Rooney's fine establishment over the years: the heartwarming start of Maggie and Joe's romance (also, the not-so-heartwarming start of Carolyn and Buzz Hackett's so-called "romance"!), Burke Devlin's savage bar fight with the then-thuggish Willie Loomis, and Maggie's dramatic and shocking return from Windcliff (and the presumed-to-be-dead) to name but a few.

I would have liked to have seen Barnabas and Julia make a sentimental journey into the Blue Whale for old times' sake.  Was the cigarette machine still there in the more health conscious times of 1995?  (If it wasn't, I'll bet that Julia Hoffman, M.D., was really bummed out that she could not get a pack of butts!)

What about the familiar telephone booth that so many DS characters used during truly crucial and urgent moments back during the late 1960s?  No doubt, the 1995 Blue Whale patrons were all using handheld cell phones, much to Mr. B. and Dr. H.'s bemusement and astonishment!

What if Barnabas happened to walk over to the juke box, would he find those two (and, possibly only) songs there on the play list, "Meet Me At the Blue Whale" and the theme song from the film, "A Man and a Woman"?

Somehow, I think that after Barnabas put a couple of quarters into the juke box (unlike the single 25 cent charge to play a song in 1970), and heard, say, the unfamiliar sounds of Alanis Morissette's "Jagged Little Pill" or Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise," Barnabas would turn to Dr. Hoffman, seated at a nearby table and remarked: "Why, Julia, I'm dismayed to learn that people listen to such cacophonous claptrap in 1995."

And, what would Barnabas and Julia have made of Bob Rooney's successor behind the bar?  Instead of seeing a familiar, chunky, middle-aged guy wearing a Sears plaid, flannel shirt and pouring draft beer into a stein, they now see a lean, perfectly-coiffed young guy, attired in a stylish Tommy Hilfiger shirt, and twirling a couple of whiskey bottles into the air, a la Tom Cruise in the film classic, "Cocktail."

Barnabas and Julia would have been shocked to have learned that the foppish bartender, Jared Clark, was the twenty-something progeny of an illicit Portsmith "rendezvous" between the now departed Jeff Clark and the late (and not to mention extremely "friendly") Donna Friedlander.

Perhaps Bob Rooney has long since retired to balmy Key West, Florida.  I can see Bob bartending occasionally at the world-famous Sloppy Joe's Tavern and also appearing nightly at sunset at the Mallory Square Dock on west Duval Street, as "Bartender Bob: America's Southernmost Down-East Saloon Keeper" along with the rest of the assembled and aging hippies, bag pipe players, contortionists, etc.

Heck, with a grey beard and a few extra pounds, the venerable Mr. Rooney might even enter (and, no doubt, win) the annual Ernest "Papa" Hemingway Lookalike Contest in Key West!

One final "haunt" that I wish that Barnabas and Julia had visited in 1995, was the always popular Collinsport Cinema.  Can you imagine, if in an attempt to familiarize themselves with the culture and mores of 1995, Mr. B. and Dr. H. just happened to attend an extremely early (and, I mean eight years early) sneak preview of the smash hit "Gigli," starring the beautiful Jennifer Lopez and the dashing Ben Affleck?

Somehow, after seeing just ten minutes of the film, I think Barnabas would have turned to Dr. Hoffman in the theater, and said: "My God, Julia,  this is excrutiatingly bad!  No wonder why everyone is so positively messed up in 1995!"

With that, Barnabas and Julia would probably race back to Angelique's East Wing room, in the desperate hope of returning to Parallel Time 1970, realizing that life there (even in a burned-out Collinwood) would be far better that actually living through this nightmare of a true scenario in Real Time 1995!

Bob the Bartender, who respectfully disagrees with the delightful Ms. Doris Day, by saying that "the future IS ours to see" (if you just happen to live in the mythical town of Collinsport, Maine!).

Hey gang,

I'm sure that we all sat on the edge of our collective seats today, wondering what Roxanne's earth-shattering, first words might be.  Here are a few last-second ideas that came to me as the apple-of-Claude North's-eye was about to speak:

1. "Is the end-of-summer-sale at Brewster's Department Store still going on by any chance?"

2.  "I'm extremely sorry, Barnabas.  Of course, I couldn't tell you this myself before today.  But, you see, I'm saving myself for Bobby Sherman."

(Note on Bobby Sherman: The so-called Justin Timberlake of the early 1970s, for all of you Dark Shadows fans out there, who were not, yet, a gleam in your fathers' eyes.)

3.  "Hey, what's new with Erica Kane on 'All My Children'?"

4. "This bullet-bra is absolutely killing me!"

5.  "Claude, when you told me the happy news that you wanted me to meet your family, I never thought that you meant the ones who are buried in Eagle Hill Cemetery!"

Hey gang,

I'm sure we all remember how coldly evil Barnabas was during the time that he was under the control of the Leviathans (the so-called "bad" Barnabas of Dark Shadows).  Yes, Barnabas seemed to take great delight in tormenting the doomed Paul Stoddard with repeated talk of Mr. Stoddard's most "prized possession" (which turned out to be his nubile, young daughter, Carolyn)

Well, I wonder what the recently late, unlamented Bruno Hess' most "prized possession" would have been?

Perhaps Bruno might have said that his music was his most prized possesion.  Of course, "Ode to Angelique" might be the most prized composition of this most self-absorbed, "one-hit-wonder." Then again, the Steinway & Sons piano, on which Bruno created his paean to Angelique might have been his most prized possession.

Others might argue that Bruno's extensive and elaborate wardrobe was his most prized possession.  And, let's not forget Bruno's voluminous collection of chains, rings and bracelets, a veritable cornucopia of tawdry silver and gold, enough, I daresay, to make even Little Richard jealous.

Yet, I have to believe that Bruno's most "prized possession" was something much more personal to an individual of Bruno Hess' unrelenting narcissism.  Yes, I'm referring, of course,  to Bruno's own head!  Just think of that pearly-white killer smile, that sharp, but impressive aquiline nose, and topped off by that piece de resistance, Bruno's magnificient head of lustrous hair!

No doubt, Bruno had a demand in his last will and testament that his mumified head be displayed in its rightful place,  immediately next to the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo, so that countless, successive generations could marvel at and appreciate the timeless, esthetic beauty of his Caesar-like cranium.

Bob the Bartender, aspiring phrenologist.