Ten Things You Mightn't Have Known About Larry

In a career which somewhat dictated itself, as we shall soon see, Larry Fine was born Louis Feinberg in 1902 South Philly. The "middle stooge" in all the Three Stooges incarnations, "Porcupine" occupied the demanding and sometimes awkward position of a comedic trio's straight-man, or in his case middle man --with the utmost of skill and grace.

Often reacting instead of acting, his presence set a near perfect pacing which allowed a gag its dimension and the needed steam to climax properly. He equally played surprise at, and instigation of, what we now recognize as the high art of Stoogery. 

“Growing up, first you watched Curly, then Moe, and then your eyes got to Larry. He’s the reactor, the most vulnerable. Five to fourteen, Curly; fourteen to twenty-one, Moe. Anyone out of college, if you’re not looking at Larry you don’t have a good brain.” - Peter Farrelly

With his craftsman precision and anchoring longevity, he could easily be seen as perhaps the most important cog in the Stooges wheel, funny that -- since --

1. Larry almost never became a Stooge.
He at first turned down Ted Healy's offer to join the Stooges, then billed as “Ted Healy and his Three Southern Gentlemen." He quickly changed his mind when Mr. Mann, the club owner who hosted Larry's violin and two gal song and dance gig, committed suicide following being shut down due to serving up a prohibition era drink to an undercover cop.

His reason to being hesitant? Shemp was too funny. 

Healy offered $90 a week plus an additional $10 if he grew his hair out "all frizzy*."

2. Larry was a professional violinist.
A Vaudevillian song and dance man, really. As a youth in his father's jewelry store, he accidentally almost drank the acid from a gold test kit. His father caught him in time to slap it out of his hand, but it splashed his left arm, severely injuring it. Here, we see the famously easy-going Mr. Fine allow life to take the lead. The violin was a good way to fine tune his injured wing.

3. Larry was a prize fighter.
Another excellent form of exercise is pugilism. Under the nom de ring of Kid Roth, Larry fought (and won) one professional lightweight bout. His father, opposed to Larry's fisticuff antics, put an end to them quite quickly. As far as public displays, at least.

4. Larry was a Stooge three years before Moe.
Moe Howard signed on with Ted Healy three years after Larry. It was Moe who completed the soon to be famous trio -- not who began it.

5. Larry never appeared in a film without Moe.
Unlike Shemp, Larry never sought a solo limelight. There are two examples (Three Loan Wolves to name one) that show, with no disrespect intended, that he was no lead. If one were then relegated to follow -- I'd imagine there is no need to look elsewhere.

6. Larry took it like a champ.

"It" being abuse. According to his brother, Larry developed a callus on one side of his face from being slapped by Moe lo, those many years.

Too, he took a fountain pen into his skull and, in "Three Little Sew and Sews" (1939), hung the highest of the three by piano wire whilst portraying angels.

 7."I'm a victim of circumstance" 

(which was used by Curly on occasion as well). More reacting than acting, sure and soitenly. A career he allowed to guide itself, yes. Most importantly, and as displayed in this famous line of his, is his uncanny ability to find depth in apparently shallow lines. Curly, a time or two, had borrowed this line -- note the difference there for yourself.

He had the ability to turn "Yeah." into a belly laugh guffaw of a punchline. Please see: Who Done It? for that particular and hilarious framed pictures to craniums instance.

8. Larry was a flake ... erm ... a colorful character.

Larry's let fate decide, easiest of easy-going character exhibited itself beyond his stage and screen career. He had the business sense and frugality of a drunken sailor. Sadly, he was also a barely in control gambler (ponies and gin rummy). Too, a soft touch -- he often gave money to fellow actors and friends who were hard up, never asking to be repaid.

Due to his money hemorrhaging ways and his long time wife Mabel's dislike for keeping house, their family lived in Atlantic City and Los Angeles hotels for many years. Larry didn't become a homeowner until the late 1940s. He then purchased one in the Los Feliz area of Los Angeles, California.

Moe actually acted as Larry's de facto accountant, as he did too with Curly. Saving both from the brinks of bankruptcy a time or two.

Director Charles Lamont recalled, "Larry was a nut. He was the kind of guy who always said anything. He was a yapper."

9. Larry is a piece of art.
Literally... well, more literally than you might imagine. A large mural of the famed middle man appears on a wall at intersection of Third and South Streets, currently housing Jon’s Bar and Grill, near Larry's birthplace. At the suggestion of Philadelphia Weekly and its fine readership, the site was dedicated on October 26th 1999. Artist David McShane’s mural originally showcased Larry with his trademarked dazed appearance. Some six years later, McShane repainted a less dazed yet too infinitely less hinged Fine playing a violin.

10. Larry met a very similar fate to Curly.
In 1965, the Three Stooges launched a new show, aptly titled, "The New Three Stooges." The show was a blend of live and cartoon short segments. The boys saw their ages catch up with them, however, and filming took more of a toll than was comfortable. Larry soon displayed early signs of a stroke (several smaller strokes) that would soon enough end his life. In particular, he exhibited often troubles with the proper delivery of lines -- something long his forte. 

He, along with Moe and Curly Joe were at work on a new television series, "Kook's Tour" in January of 1970 when Larry suffered a massive and debilitating stroke, which paralyzed the left side of his body. He was moved to the entertainment industry retirement community of Motion Picture Country House in Woodland Hills, LA, where he resided his five remaining years, confined to a wheelchair.

His partially paralyzed state aside, Fine was known to entertain the other patients and also was able to complete his autobiography "Stroke of Luck." Moe visited his Porcupine regularly, and closely succeeded him in death, mere months later. Mr. Fine shuffled off to cosmic Buffalo aged 72, on January 24th 1975. 

============

* There is another take on this story wherein Larry was offered the additional ten to 'throw away his fiddle.' This is questionable for two reasons:

1. It is according to Moe (Larry tells the 'frizzy' tale) during a 1973 TV interview on The Mike Douglas Show. At this time, Moe seems to be a bit unpredictable and apologetic with his information. He also told many reporters watered down versions of the violence on set. He would pretend-twist Curly Joe's ear to display how no one was ever hurt, which flies in the face of what we now know. This was a period in time when viewers were becoming sensitive to the violence portrayed by the trio. Moe was playing Moe -- protecting and steering the Stooges careers.

2. Larry didn't throw away his fiddle, as he appeared several times with it -- he also cashed the extra saw buck. Nuff.

Oliva Serie G Maduro - Cigar Review

Prologue: 

7:26pm 

The sun sets on another Sabbath. I watch it play with the leaves on the trees across from my porch at the park. In the dappled shade, bums snuggle in for the night. G-d bless Eugene, Oregon. I wish I could bless it as does G-d -- from afar. Nonetheless...

The Cigar:

Oliva Serie G

Connecticut broadleaf, Maduro wrapper

Habano-seed Nicaraguan binder/filler

Churchill 7 x 50 size (box pressed)

Pre-light:

Macadamia and cocoa butter nose with a sweet tobacco back. The wrapper is firm and oily and smooth as compared to some other lesser Maduro offerings. Small veins which are few and far between and seams that seem seamless. The color is dark and rich and the cigar has a very nice overall feel to it.

A cold pull displays a darker than expected and dare I say succulent tobacco. Toasted macadamia is forefront on the cold pull palate.

Though box pressed, the corners are somewhat rounded.

All in all, I'm genuinely excited for the

Light: 

The light goes off without a hitch, because as I've stated previously, cigars are indeed flammable. In all serious, however, the affair is that of ease -- even given my now famously windy porch. 

The burn is off to a even start and the first couple-few pulls highlight a deepening nutty oil, quite a chocolate nose, and a pleasant finish of well-brewed coffee. It plays rather sensually, really.

1/3:

The corners of the box pressed Oliva were rounded at its onset and seem to be getting more rounded. The once firm pack is indeed loosening.

Flavor notes stay the same and warm as they toast. Nice. Very nice.

The ash is thick and oily and the output of smoke is within the high-end of average. It is dense and it is macadamia.

I notice a somewhat inconsistent draw, we'll see how that plays out. For now all else is even keeled and laid back. A cigar that seems to smoke itself and too, to beg for Brandy.

A dried fruity red plum comes to the finish.

Chocolate, fruit, nuts -- it's high end trail mix, gentlepersons! I'm fine with that, as long as I don't have to hike. Because I will do no such thing, sir and/or madame.

An exceptionally smooth and easy stick. Although not without balls, as I've oft critiqued Oliva. Total enjoyment. Let's see what awaits us in the 

2/3:

I flick off the well-pact ash at around two inches. I stubbornly resisted for some time and now I even the burn. It responds well and easily. I back off a tad in hopes of slowing the experience by not pulling like a fiend.

My lone complaint is lack of buzz, but the peaceful easy feeling is a good enough trade by something resembling quite far.

This Oliva is a batting Practice pitcher. Straight down the middle -- no change of speed, no movement. We have been macadamia, chocolate, coffee, with hint of dried heavy fruit throughout. Even when a new flavor note is added, it is somewhat telegraphed. This is no complaint. This is a well planned cigar. 

The draw has loosened to an average pull.

Ricardo Montalban should be narrating this cigar. Does anyone else hear Chet Baker, softly and in the background?

Fully heated notes that dance together in lusciously slow steps. Macadamia and chocolate. Coffee and rich red fruit no longer of the dried variety. The finish is long and welcome and the inherent sweetness of all involved. I notice the output has grown in fruitiness.

Too, the stick is now fully round.

3/3:

We begin with a touching up of the burn that is so responsive I feel it might have happened on its lonesome, had I simply waited. I begin to water my roses and somewhat hesitate to place the stick in my tray. Its feel is genuinely welcoming. Parting is such sweet... Screw it, the roses can wait.

Mid 3/3 there is a coming around of cedar that is, while quick, not at all abrupt. With its onset comes a comfy buzz and upon its departure, the stick reverts to inherently sweet Nicaraguan right down to the toothpick. A smooth nutty oil and cocoa finish prevails. 

8:47pm

Notes:

I wonder if I were in another type of mood, would this stick strike me as boring. I think not. I think there is enough warming and maturing which take place. I think, too, that the inherent deepness here is not indicative of a boredom. Just an easy, peaceful feeling that'll last a good ninety minutes and offer a solid near 20 minutes of buzz-strength from its general low-end of medium bodied classification.

It is a slow, warm and comfortable evolution of a cigar.

Pairings: 

Brandy and Cool Jazz. Sunglasses, even at night, kiddo.

Final Grade: A

Epilogue:

This will go down as the stogie which made me an Oliva believer. I get it now, guys, never dare a smoker to smoke a smoke. Easy like a Sunday morning, and everything (but the Sabbath) should be a Sunday morning.

Ten Things You Mightn't Have Known About Shemp

To further, if not your appreciation, then your knowledge of Shemp -- the oft marginalized Stooge, I have decided to entrust to you these tidbits of glimpses into the eldest Horwitz Brother.

Shall we shtart at the very first beginning? It is a very good place to shtart, after all. 

1. Why "Shemp?" 

Born Samuel Horwitz in New York City on March 11th 1895, he adopted the moniker "Shemp,"  as his nom de stage on account of his mother's thick Latvik accent. "Sam" came out "Shemp" when she called his name. A momma's boy at heart, perhaps, but charmingly so and possibly in keeping with our second tidbit...

2. Shemp was a bed-wetter. 

Or at least he was for long enough to get out of serving in WWI. This "issue" was discovered very shortly after his being drafted and found him being sent home two weeks thereafter. Some film historians question this as being anything more than a soggy rouse to get out of combat. Personally, I feel it's perfectly in keeping with his character profile, which as we'll soon see, is riddled with phobias. Perhaps his accidents were simply of the happy useful variety.

I have long said that Shemp has layers. Some of those layers were near undoubtedly waterproof plastic and placed under his fitted bed sheets.

3. Shemp Entertained in Blackface.

Along with his little brother and future Boss Stooge, Moe, Shemp donned the infamous Minstrel Show attire in an act dubbed "Howard and Howard: A Study In Black." Such fine vaudevillians they were, they concurrently worked with a rival troupe, sans Blackface.

4. Shemp was the most successful solo Stooge.

The original Stooge lineup was Moe, Larry, and Shemp -- until Shemp had it up to his frazzled bangs with Ted Healy mercilessly taunting him and his many phobias.

When he did strike out on his own, he quickly found work in many Hollywood shorts and feature films. He gigged within Fatty Arbuckle's final turns and appeared in Jimmy Stewart's first screen appearance in a 1934 comedy short. He also had a running gig as Knobby Walsh, Joe Palooka's boxing manager. He also paired with Lon Chaney, Jr, as a somewhat bastardized version of Abbott and Costello in "San Antonio Rose" (1941). Finally, for the sake of briefness, he lent his comedic mugging to Charlie Chan in the Thin Man murder mysteries. 

To threaten that aforementioned briefness, I'll add that Shemp was also capable of serious role-play, as was the case in 1942's "Pittsburgh" in which he shared screen time with Marlene Dietrich and John Wayne.

5. Shemp was a Phobic.

He was afraid of: 

Water - He toted galoshes everywhere, always. 

Heights - & I don't mean high ones. It did not take much.

Driving/riding (in) cars - On account of his witnessing a car wreck as a kid, says Moe. 

Planes too were a no-go - Trains were it, man.

Dogs - Except for his own Collie, Wags.

It's no surprise that he was known to jump at every noise. No telling if said noise had to be actual.

6. Shemp shared the stage with baseball great Honus Wagner.

In 1919, Shemp and Moe appeared in a very rare movie short called "Spring Fever,"  Sadly and like too many silent films, this one has been cuffed by the bandit of all bandits, time.

7. Shemp's "era" as a Stooge is known to have been risque.

With Curly suffering a stroke in '46, Shemp entered back into the Stooge fold and made 70 more films with Moe and Larry. These films constitute the Shemp Era and the trio's offerings became known to be slightly more adult-themed (Shemp and Christine McIntyre had some great chemistry), as well as more heavily banter-driven.

I personally have stated my belief that some of Shemp's work has lost its luster today, because we no longer recognize his naughty envelope pushing as, well, naughty envelop pushing. Think Lenny Bruce -- his act which gained him fame as well as arrest in his own time, would be quite the mainstream performance now. Too, bear in mind far less time has passed since Mr. Bruce's bits, than has since Shemp's.

8. Shemp was voted "The Ugliest Man in Hollywood."

This was a concocted publicity stunt. Still, it must have stung, one would imagine. This puts me in mind of Curly shearing his beloved locks for the purpose of Stoogery -- Babe never really got OK with it. It bugged him always.

"I'm hideous," Shemp told reporters.

9. Shemp's death was as calm as his life wasn't.

On Nov. 23th [22nd, editor] 1955 Shemp played the ponies during the day and attended the prize fights at night. After these good and usual festivities, he was sitting in the back of a car with his cohorts, smoking a cigar and joking. Suddenly, he slumped over -- dead of a cerebral hemorrhage. Out went the light.

For a man ruled by fear, Shemp Howard had an easy go at life's biggest one and the probable metaphysical root of all the others. All accounts stated that he died with a smile on his ugly mug.

10. Fake shemp.

Here's a quirky legacy: Columbia had The Three Stooges on the hook for eight comedy shorts in 1956, but only half were in the can at the untimely time of Shemp's death. To fulfill contractual obligations, Jules White strung together four more shorts by reusing old footage of Shemp and filming new connecting scenes with a stand-in -- long time Stooge character actor Joe Palma, seen mostly from the back. Using this same tact, and it's been used widely, is now officially called "Fake Shemp."

Not. Awkward. Viewing. At. All --
From "Commotion in the Ocean" (1956)
Moe: I wonder what became of that Shemp?
Larry: You know, he went on deck to scout out some food.
Moe: Oh, yeah. That's right.

Oy.

The Eleven (11) Commandments of Cigar Etiquette

And too did the Maduro wrapper causeth thee cat to speaketh to me and it did speaketh these Eleven (11) Commandments of Cigar Etiquette thusly:

Meow is the time to listen spake the fat tabby. (Yet too, hath I come to realize it was inded my Dachshund Ruby Vondella coming to me in a varied form.)

1. Thou shalt not speaketh with a cigar in thy mouth.
This is just rude, obnoxious, and indicative of posery as well as a severe oral fixation.

2. Removeth thine cigar band prior to lighting
We are not here to flaunt our bemoan our lot in life. We are here for the buzz.

3. Biteth thee tips of thine stogies and useth not cutting implementations.
The cap is a separate piece which comes off when nibbled wetly. Cutters (may) cause damage.

4. Thou shalt not lighteth before asking permission unless thou art alone.
Be nice. Privilege is not nice.

5. Thou shalt not looketh down at any hand-rolled cigar.
Each roller has a soul, as does each smoker, as does each hand-rolled stogie, as do you.

6. Thou shalt not covet thine neighbor's stick.
Long to smoke the stick in your hand. You will find immeasurable satisfaction beyond smoke, there.

7. Offer thy pal a smoke or smoketh not before him.
A cigar is offered both graciously as well as silently via gesturing.

8. You shall have no other accesories than a simple toothpick.
& wooden matches/spills. A tooth pick is an unplugger and a nub holder.

(& a schmatta I will sell you for five-dollars, s&h included.)

9. Thou shalt not starteth and stoppeth a stogie.
Procure the proper sized stogie for the proper sized allotment of time.

10. Be neither pretentious in the growing of your ash, nor flicketh too often.
Your character is on display here. Be not showy nor nervous.

11. Holdeth not a cigar as thou wouldst a cigarette.

Lest I shall smacketh you, n00b.

"Gay ga zinta hate" concludeth the cat.

Each of these commandments will have a posting all their own 

and eventually all above will be linked to that posting.

Each of these commandments are not writ in stone.

They are writ on yer computer screen.