Now Milton Berle (1908-2002) led a life that wasn't what one may consider exactly shrouded in mystery. In fact he would willfully be the first one in the room (preferably the kitchen) to let you in on all his backstage performances and let you know just how he earned those war wounds. But there's still something you have to admire about the man for his contributions to television and if you didn't, you could be rest assured Berle would find a way to manipulate you so that you would. His gaping array of famous affairs ran the gamut from a barely legal Marilyn Monroe to the unexpected wiles of Dorothy Kilgallen to Veronica Lake and the loving wife of our fortieth President. Apparently Nancy luv couldn't just say No. But hey there was no such thing as a sex addict then.
When the news leaked that Berle hosted, well how shall we gingerly put this, an extra-special anatomical feature there was a sudden interest in the faltering comedian's career. You could say it pole-vaulted his resurgence (okay that's just speculation). Uncle Miltie surely came a long way from Vaudeville, but why oh why did Phil Silvers have to take a peek? Okay, Silvers was the King of Chutzpah, but had more than a solitary funny thing happening en route over to the forum, didn't he just?
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| Is it bigger than a breadbox Milt...oops wrong show. |
Berle was utterly notorious for his upstaging antics but none quite as deliberate or offensive as his great -not-so - great hosting stint of 1979 - when Berle practically hijacked Saturday Night Live in such that producer Lorne Michaels who was mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore -banned the episode of which he starred. He wasn't the only comedian who engaged in the odd hostile takeover - if Groucho before him was to be any such example, you can read between all of his lines from his plethora of apperances on What's My Line. Six degrees of Kilgallen.
The Blood Moon made me do this.