Yesterday, the mainstream outlets picked up on something that had been floating around the tech sites, about Steve Jobs allegedly dumping on a journalism student. Since then there’s been some confusion over the facts, but for the sake of this post I’ll assume it’s true that a journalism student made repeated efforts to contact Apple’s media relations people, didn’t receive a reply, then texted Steve Jobs directly.
If this is correct, and if Jobs saw the message and actually replied himself, why would he have said anything other than, “I’ll have somebody get back to you”? To say anything else was simply wrong, and is another indication that Steve should step back from the day-to-day doings at Apple. He had the all-time greatest return to power of any CEO in business history, and he has nothing left to prove, especially after his brush — two brushes — with death. Steve, it’s time to start thinking about calling it quits, and if you don’t have anybody ready to step in, then you haven’t been doing your job, have you?
I can’t embed this video, you’ll have to click the picture, or here, to go to a page where you can watch it. This was supposedly what was going on with English teens in 1960, presumably in London, with no mention of the Beatles, who were already making a name for themselves in Liverpool.
When I was in New York this past week, I told Prudence Bury-Fuchs and her friends Mike and Christine O’Neal the story of my late mother’s friendship with a man named Ted Montague. My mother, Joanne Waffle, met Ted at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York, where they graduated in 1946. As seen below, Ted went by the name Peter Montague. Another graduate was David Andrews, later known as ‘Tige’ Andrews. Vince Beck was a well-known character actor who appeared in many TV shows, especially during the Sixties.
Click to enlargeAmerican Academy of Dramatic Arts, Class of 1946
How I learned of Ted Montague was typical of a lot of things my mother told me later in her life, because it was something my sisters knew, and she was sure I did too, but I didn’t. It was 1996, and my parents had retired. My mother’s lungs weren’t doing well, the result of decades of cigarettes, and she was looking for a place to move in the southwest. She had made several trips to Arizona to look at properties, and before one of those trips she called and said that of course I knew that she had to postpone it. I said I did not know that, and I asked her what happened. She made reference to George dying, and my father’s name is George, so that really threw me for a moment. But then I realized she was talking about George Burns, and I said of course I knew Burns had died a few days before, but what did that have to do with anything?
It turned out that my mother had been looking at houses with the help of Ted Montague, who was retired himself, and living in Tucson. At some point in the 1940’s, Ted became friends with George Burns and Gracie Allen, and he worked as their personal secretary for many years. When Burns died, Montague attended the funeral, and from what my mother said he also had some related business matters to attend to. Here is a picture of Ted with Gracie, and some other friends.
After Gracie’s death in 1964, George helped set up Montague with an interior decorating shop in Beverly Hills. When my mother told me about it I said, “Mom, I, uh, think your friend Ted is probably gay.” To which she replied, with great effect, “Well, DUH, son!” This is Ted with a boyfriend. I suppose it’s the sort of snapshot that gay men kept in a locked drawer, back in those days.
With Ted’s help, my mother found a house near Phoenix, and my father lives there to this day. A few years after my parents moved there, Ted Montague passed away. I think it’s great my mother had a lifelong friendship with Ted, and it’s to my father’s credit that he saw it for what it was, and let it be.
Fri., Feb. 12, 1999
Rodney Theodore Montague
By VARIETY STAFF
Rodney Theodore “Ted” Montague, who spent 18 years as personal secretary to George Burns and Gracie Allen, died Jan. 16 of complications from emphysema in Tucson. He was 77.
Following his many years with Burns and Allen, he moved over to the MGM music department for a short stint before opening a decorating and refinishing shop on Melrose Ave.
Well known in Beverly Hills social circles, Montague retired to Tucson to be near his family.
He is survived by a sister and numerous nieces and nephews.
When I was in New York this week, I stayed at the same place as the last time I was in the city — The Hotel Pennsylvania, across from Penn Station. My last visit literally left a bad taste in my mouth, because I became deathly ill with food poisoning, undoubtedly from a turkey club sandwich I’d had for dinner at Lindy’s, a restaurant in the Hotel Penn building that had been a favorite of Milton Berle, who I would have avoided had I ever seen him. I never cared for Uncle Milty.
My night in the Hotel Pennsylvania wasn’t cheap, but it’s less expensive than most of the midtown hotels. That’s because it’s pretty much a rundown dump, except for the lobby. Besides the relatively low cost, I have an attachment to the place, because it was where I stayed the very first time I visited New York, when I was sixteen years old. The occasion was the 1972 Comicart Convention, back when the hotel was called the Statler-Hilton.
My friend Morris drove us there with his (now ex-) wife and their infant daughter. They’re listed in the program book as “Human,” which is a typo, because Morris’ name is Hyman. If you enlarge the scan you’ll see my name and that of comic book art legend Joe Sinnott, his late wife Betty, and their son Mark. As I mentioned a while ago, Dennis and I were going to meet Joe and Mark in Boston next month, but Joe had hip replacement surgery on Friday. I sure do hope it went well.
The Hotel Pennsylvania is most likely not going to be standing for much longer, and having stayed there just a few days ago, I’m sorry to say that I think it’s time for it to go. The New York City Council has approved a plan to replace it with an office tower. With so much attention being given nationally to the proposed Islamic cultural center, this bit of real estate news has stayed mostly local to the Big Apple. But beware, New York, because the developer of the proposed Penn Plaza project, Vornado Realty Trust, is the same outfit that has left a huge hole in the center of Boston for years.
Prue said the headphones that British Airways has are too big. They slide down her head and she has to hold them up to her ears, so she wanted to find a better pair for listening to the movie on the flight to London today. Nothing fancy, like noise-canceling phones, just something that fits.
Mike O’Neal told us there’s a Radio Shack on West 57th Street, so Prue and I set off down Broadway on foot. Along the way, we passed an Apple retail store, and Prue said she wanted to go in and see an iPad.
I brought up Google maps, and in short order had a satellite view of Prue’s village in France on the screen. She was looking for a landmark so she could her trace the way to her house, when a sales guy showed up to “help,” and after much effort the screen ended up returning to a map of Manhattan. Well, that was enough of that.
We continued our search for Radio Shack, and when we found it there was only one style of headphones that wasn’t sealed in a blister pack. A sales guy was nice enough to take a pair out for Prue to try on. Without even adjusting the band they fit perfectly, so I bought them for her. The set included a pair of ear buds that Prue didn’t want, so I took those. I hope the headphones sound OK on the plane, but I won’t know until Prue gets home, after she stops to visit some old friends in London.
