"grandpa" al lewis has died. long live "grandpa" al lewis.

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http://www.newsday.com/entertainment/am-lewis0204,0,5199141.story?coll=ny-entertainment-headlines

the petronas towers (Jody Beth Rosen), Sunday, 5 February 2006 00:16 (nineteen years ago)

i'm as sad about his death as i am about friedan's :-(

the petronas towers (Jody Beth Rosen), Sunday, 5 February 2006 00:24 (nineteen years ago)

from al's official website:

Here's how Al Lewis should be remembered
Posted by: dada at February 4, 2006 04:51 PM

I first met Grandpa in 1970 in New Haven, at the Free Bobby Seale and Erica Huggins protests. Bobby and Erica, leaders of the Black Panther Party, were on trial for their lives and 20,000 demonstrators waged a tow-day rally and, at night, pitched battle against the police and unsheathed bayonets of the National Guard. I was 21 and one of three SUNY Stony Brook reps on the coordinating committee organizing what would become, following the murder of four students at Kent State a few days later, the largest student strike in US history. We were writing up our three national demands when I saw Al in the doorway at Yale. He wasn't a speaker there, just one of the crowd. Al just winked as he walked past.

I've seen Al at many demos since. Black Panther support demos. Free Mumia Abu-Jamal demos. Anti-war marches. Always, just one of us peons. Just there. Putting his body where his mouth was. Like the rest of us.

The man has put in his dues for 88 years; he is still as sharp as a nail in the coffin of capitalism. Al Lewis was born in 1910 in NY State and raised by his mom, an immigrant sweatshop worker, in Brownsville, Brooklyn. Grandpa has never forgotten his roots. "Brownsville was the largest Jewish ghetto in America," he recalls. "We all were very poor. But we stood together when people were evicted. When the marshals and sheriffs would leave, we'd break the lock and move the furniture back inside. Back then, we didn't let people live in the street."

http://www.greens.org/s-r/17/17-02.html

the petronas towers (Jody Beth Rosen), Sunday, 5 February 2006 00:32 (nineteen years ago)

That's good to read - I had no idea of any political background. I just really liked him in the Munsters, and was a fan because of that.

Martin Skidmore (Martin Skidmore), Sunday, 5 February 2006 00:43 (nineteen years ago)

yeah, he had kind of a cult following among new yorkers (he had a talk show on lefty-pacifica station wbai and was on the howard stern show a lot). i was very glad when he ran for governor a few elections ago.

the petronas towers (Jody Beth Rosen), Sunday, 5 February 2006 00:50 (nineteen years ago)

an interview from 1997:

You may know him best as Grandpa Munster on "The Munsters" TV
show, or as Officer Schnauzer on "Car 54, Where Are You?" I
remember seeing Al Lewis in countless parts on almost every TV
show I watched in the 1970s and 80s, from "Lost In Space" to "The
Night Stalker" to "Here's Lucy" to "Taxi," not to mention movies
like "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" and "They Might Be Giants."
I've always enjoyed his performances, whether comedic or dramatic
(he was fucking hilarious in the "Taxi" episode!!)
In recent months though, we've discovered that there's a lot
more to Al Lewis than just playing TV and movie roles. Beside
being a Talmudic scholar, Al Lewis has devoted his life to social
and political activism from the 1930s through the present. Now at
87 years of age, Al Lewis has settled back in New York City,
where he shares his insights, his razor sharp wit and viewpoints
with a receptive audience on his radio show on listener-supported
WBAI (Saturdays at noon, on 99.5 FM.), when he's not making
movies.
We were a bit nervous approaching Al Lewis for an interview,
not sure how he would react to The SHADOW. Then we got his call.
He said "it sounds like fun." It was a strange experience to
actually talk with and ask questions of "Grandpa Munster" in the
flesh, and my head was spinning weeks later, but it was fun!!
--Chris Flash, Editor

This interview with Al Lewis and SHADOW editors Chris Flash and
A. Kronstadt took place on October 21, 1997


SHADOW: It's only recently that we found out there's more to Al
Lewis than most people think.
AL LEWIS: There's more to anybody. Just because you haven't
noticed it, that's your problem, that's not mine.

SHADOW:Where did you grow up?
LEWIS:Upstate New York near the Canadian border, on a farm.

SHADOW:When did you first come to New York City?
LEWIS:About 1924. I lived in Brooklyn, Manhattan, never lived in
Queens, never lived in the Bronx.

SHADOW:When did you start getting involved in show business?
LEWIS:1923.

SHADOW:How old were you at the time?
LEWIS:13-14. I was born April 30, 1910.

SHADOW:Was this the stage or vaudeville?
LEWIS:No, it was in the circus. I worked about eight and a half
years in three different circuses -- Barnum and Bailey, Cole
Brothers' Circus, and Clyde Beatty.

SHADOW:What did you do?
LEWIS:I started out as a roustabout, cleaning up -- elephants
are vegetarians and leave a lot to be desired and I was the guy
who was shoveling the "lot to be desired." And then I worked
myself up into a clown and did a trick unicycle act and a trapeze
act. I did anything to make a living.

SHADOW:We did a little reading up on your career --
LEWIS:Where was that? In Screw magazine?

SHADOW:We found out that you were on Broadway for a while.
LEWIS:Oh yes, I probably worked every single entertainment
medium, including some that don't exist. I worked the circus,
carnival, I had my own medicine show, I worked 18 years of radio.

SHADOW:What kind of medicine did you sell?
LEWIS:Whatever I made. I made it in a bathtub.

SHADOW:What was it good for?
LEWIS: Whatever ailed you. I probably kept your grandfather
alive. That's why you're here.

SHADOW:What was it called?
LEWIS:Various times, different things -- "The Professor"
--"Little Alfie," I used to be called. Made it in the bathtub the
night before, bottled it, put a label on it and sold it the
following day in town.

SHADOW:In New York City?
LEWIS:No, no, no, all through the south. That was in the south.

SHADOW:Did you have any experience during Prohibition?
LEWIS:Did I sell whiskey?

SHADOW:Medicines very often had alcohol in them.
LEWIS:No, that came only later. You read the wrong things; you
don't know American history. The United States, per capita, at a
certain period in its history, had the most junkies of any
country ever in the world. That was right after the Civil War.
The most brutal war, the greatest amount of casualties that
America's ever had. We fought each other. And cocaine came on the
scene at that time as a pain-killer. It was so prevalent that if
you had a five-year-old son, you could send him to the drugstore
with fifty cents and he'd bring back a bottle, a tincture of
cocaine. It was sold that prevalently. It was also the basis of
the original Coca-Cola, where they made their fortune. Then in
1919, they passed the Harrison Act, where they made cocaine
illegal, so the OTC, the "over-the-counter drugs," the base
became alcohol.

SHADOW: At what point did you go from the circus to Broadway?
LEWIS: From the circus I went to carnival, and then drifted into
medicine shows. First I went out with somebody, then I had my
own. Then I started in radio in Chicago at WGN, which was then
and still is, the largest radio station in the Midwest, owned by
the Chicago Tribune. And after a couple of years, I came to the
big time radio in New York. That's when radio was king, there
was no television. Most young people think television was around
during the cave man days, but that's a "Johnny-Come-Lately,"
television. That was big time, radio in New York. The 1930's, I
worked in soap operas. The largest sponsor was P & G, Proctor
and Gamble. That's where the term "soap opera" comes from. And
then television came around, the old Dumont Network, days of
live television. I worked live television, plays, Broadway,
Off-Broadway, films. Do what you got to do. Still do. The old
mule still pulls the wagon. Not as fast, but still pulls it,
gets it home.

SHADOW:If you had to choose, what are your favorite memories of
radio shows or TV shows that you were involved with?
LEWIS:I don't deal with memorabilia. I have no nostalgia items,
I don't keep anything.

SHADOW:Anything that comes to mind? Any favorite experiences?
LEWIS:Just anything where I can work in front of an audience. So
I prefer a circus, a medicine show, vaudeville, burlesque. I
prefer that for my own satisfaction over radio, there's no
audience. TV, there's no audience. I need the response of the
audience, even if it's a silent response.

SHADOW:That sort of show business is pretty much gone nowadays.
There isn't too much of that left.
LEWIS:That's your loss, not mine. I did it. (Laughs)

SHADOW:Back in the 1930s, there was a lot of political activity
going on. A lot of labor demonstrations, strikes, the
organization of the CIO. Were you involved in any of that?
LEWIS:Yup, yeah, Scottsboro, Tom Mooney, Warren K. Billings. I
was an organizer in the Food, Agricultural and Tobacco Workers
Union down in North Carolina.

SHADOW:You worked in that industry?
LEWIS:No, no, I accepted a challenge. The industry I worked in
just before the war, World War II, was the National Maritime
Union.

SHADOW:You were a seaman?
LEWIS:Yup, yup. The late 30's and then into the war. I was
torpedoed twice, once in the Mediterranean and once off Murmansk.

SHADOW: You were carrying goods to the Soviet Union?
LEWIS:Like 600 other sea ships in a
convoy. You never knew what you carried. You could have been
carrying potatoes, which of course we weren't, or you could have
been carrying explosives. And you saw those ships go up. Boy,
Coney Island never had fireworks like that. And all those men
died.
In a convoy, you had 200-300 Victory Ships. Henry J. Kaiser
made millions on those. And if you saw guys swimming in the
water, you never stopped to pick them up. You let them die there.
Because of the submarines. You could be a target. You'd look out
the port hole and see these guys screaming for help, covered with
oil, or they're on fire. "Later Jack, later!"

SHADOW:Did you ever have to abandon ship?
LEWIS:Sure, in the Mediterranean and in Murmansk, the ship was
sunk. You don't know what it's like to be in the middle of the
Atlantic ocean. There is no more lonely feeling. You see nothing,
nothing, nothing.
And there comes the British Corvettes -- "bwoop, bwoop,
bwoop" -- them fuckers, they didn't give a shit about the few of
us that were in the water. They were circling and dropping the
ashcans looking for the German U-boats. And we were screaming
"You motherfuckers!" And they finally pulled us in. And then in
Murmansk, the Yops, Russian planes, spotted us and a Russian
trawler. All women manned the ships, pulled us out of the water
and took us to the hospital.

SHADOW:What was it like being a labor organizer in the 1930's?
LEWIS:Depends where you were. In the South? You faced death at
any moment.

SHADOW:The Ku Klux Klan?...
LEWIS:You'd get shot at. Not the Ku Klux Klan -- the poor people
there who had no jobs. They were hired by the boss, they gave
them a gun -- "You see this son of a bitch? Blow his head off."

SHADOW:What industry was this?
LEWIS:Food, Agricultural, Tobacco Workers Union. Fayetteville,
North Carolina.

SHADOW:What about the National Maritime Union? What was it like
organizing among seamen back in those days?
LEWIS:You were more on home ground on the port than organizing
in the south, even to this day. Even John L. Lewis, who
organized the United Mine Workers. He didn't get very many
Southern mine workers. American history -- people don't know it.
You know who his organizers were? Communists from the North. He
writes about it. Went down south to Harlan County Kentucky,
Hazard Kentucky. Many of them got blown away. Just step off the
train, they blow your head off. You don't know what fear is.
(Laughs)

SHADOW:So what kept you going?
LEWIS:Who knows? I don't know. Maybe stupidity! (Laughs) He
[John L. Lewis] was smart enough. He wasn't interested in their
politics, whether they supported Russia and Stalin, nothin' -- "I
gotta get this local organized." He got Communists, young men
from the north, and many of them paid with their lives.

SHADOW:So what motivated you, what politicized your life? Some
people say they want to make a lot of money, other people say
"I'm gonna change the world," other people say "I don't give a
shit about anybody" --
LEWIS:Those are full of shit statements. That's shit. What
motivated me? My mother. My mother was an immigrant woman, a
peasant woman, struggled all her life, worked in the garment
center. Understood what the struggle was about. My mother.
Couldn't read or write, but she had more sense than many a
graduate from Harvard.

SHADOW:Was she also an organizer?
LEWIS:No, my mother was a worker, a floor lady, a shop lady in
the garment center here in New York.

SHADOW:So when did you start becoming political, when did you
start becoming in touch with things going on in the world?
LEWIS:I guess having been in my mother's household I was
probably political at five or six. I don't know what you mean
--what is "political?" It's all bullshit terminology. You're
aware of bread and butter issues. How could I not be aware during
the Depression that people were starving? And I was helping my
mother sell apples. How could I not be aware? Forget that
philosophical bullshit terminology, "you become aware." It
hits you in the stomach and then a cop hits you on the head
(laughs) -- you become aware!

SHADOW:So what was the first political activity that you were
ever involved with?
LEWIS:I don't know. Probably when I
shit on the grass in Prospect Park, I don't know. I don't know
what that means. What is a political activity? What does it mean?

SHADOW:The first demonstration, for instance?
LEWIS:I was very young. My mother used to take me to Mayday
parades. That was big in New York. It used to culminate in the
old Union Square, not the shit they have now, where they've built
it so you can't have a demonstration. But they used to have a
hundred thousand people there in Union Square Park. I remember my
mother used to go on the parades for the Scottsboro boys. Those
guys were arrested in Alabama on the testimony of two prostitutes
-- we struggled to free them. I remember participating in
demonstrations, and Tom Mooney and Warren K. Billings, the
so-called bombing of the "Preparedness Day Parade." And then
during the Depression, people were getting evicted, ten a day. We
used to come along and break the lock and put the furniture back
in again. We would storm the Home Relief Centers [what the
Welfare offices were called then--Ed.], that or this person
didn't get a check for eight dollars or something, and get hit on
the head.

SHADOW:In the demonstrations back in those days were there ever
problems with the police? Did they try to attack people?
LEWIS:Did you just come to this country? (Laughs) What are you
talking about? The police are here to protect property. They're
not here to protect the public! So, what the fuck are you asking
me? Of course! Name me a period when the police...(laughs)

SHADOW:So these demonstrations for Tom Mooney, and labor
demonstrations...
LEWIS:Warren K. Billings, organizing the CIO, and District 65,
and the UE, and NMU. All that was going on and the police were
there to see that you didn't do it. And if they could get away
with it, they'd beat the shit out of you.


SHADOW: And people would resist?
LEWIS:Well obviously. And unions were created. We used to have a
saying: "If you don't get the asses of the masses out in the
street, forget it." And you get enough of them out there, the
ruling class gets scared. That's the only thing they're afraid
of, is numbers. Numbers!
See, one thing you have to understand. There's very few
people understand, especially people who deal in outlaw
newspapers and magazines. The ruling class is smarter than you,
and they're more creative. And if you forget that lesson, you go
down the drain. Because if they weren't, they wouldn't be around
as long as they have been and as strong as they have been. It's
not an accident. Not an accident. Never underestimate your
opponent. They'll tell you that if you're a fighter. Never
underestimate. You can poke fun at 'em, you can do satire, but
they work 24 hours a day. It's like Lord Acton said: "Power
corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely." I say that power
works 24 hours to remain in power. Throughout history. Go back to
kings, feudal times. The same thing. While you and I, here we're
bullshitting, and then we go out: "Tompkins Square, blah, blah,
blah..." Their fucking machine works 24 hours a day, man. It
grinds, it grinds. Otherwise they don't stay in power, they
topple.

SHADOW:So what do you think people can do in response to that
power? What do you think we have to do?
LEWIS:First of all, (laughs) you have to agree that these people
shouldn't have the power. Go on Eighth Avenue and 35th Street and
ask what the junkies do. They're looking for a fix. What do they
do?
You see, a junkie once told me an unanswerable question. He
said: "I take this junk so the shit that's in front of me and the
shit that I smell disappears. What are you gonna replace it
with?" What do you replace it with? A tract? "Jesus loves you?"
What? "Socialism is your answer?" The guy's looking for $15 to
hit you and I on the head with a lead pipe to meet the man to get
the fix. I have no answer for that. He has to find that answer. I
can deal with somebody who's not in that kind of position and try
to talk, and I do the best I can.
You see, the thing is, and I don't mean this in a denigrating
way, but you're "Johnny-Come-Latelies." Like in the Sixties,
there was a thousand underground papers. I read them all. I used
to have them all sent to me in California. Everybody in this
society wants the quick fix, like the junkie that we just talked
about. So do the radicals, whatever you want to call them, a
bumper sticker. Put it on your car. "I'm a radical," "I'm a
lefty," "I'm a progressive," "I'm left of center." It's all
bullshit. I learned a long time ago -- I've been in the struggle
over seventy years -- it doesn't bother me I may not win.

SHADOW:So what keeps you going?
LEWIS:What keeps me going? My belief! (Laughs) You see, what
happens with you "Johnny-Come-Latelies" -- and I'm not
personalizing -- is like you take people of the Sixties. After
five or ten years, they didn't get the victory, "Oh, fuck it,
man, I'll take this job down on Wall Street and make the fuckin'
money. I didn't get the immediate fix." See, the junkie is better
off than them. He gets the fix. As long as he's got the bread, he
gets the fix. "We didn't win!" America only knows the "win."

SHADOW:But what do you think about the people of the Sixties who
didn't go along with that but made money and used it for good
purposes?
LEWIS:I haven't found that species. (Laughs)

SHADOW:There are some interesting characters, like the George
Soros types...
LEWIS:Ah, bullshit. Everything he gives away is tax deductible.
I'm too fuckin' old for that shit, man! That's like Ted Turner
giving away a billion dollars. You know how much he winds up
giving away? About a hundred million dollars. All the rest he
deducts from his taxes. You know who gives it away? You and I are
giving it away. Otherwise, we'd be taking his tax money.

SHADOW:What's your formula for changing the world, for improving
things?
LEWIS:I don't know what that means; that's all bullshit. Life is
specific. Even if you're not political, that's political! You
can't shoot buckshot. You wanna be a millionaire? Fine! Put on
the blinders, like a fucking horse. If you shoot buckshot, you
gotta go for the target.

SHADOW:Let's say we're talking about specific issues: police
torturing people in police precincts, or people being evicted
from housing, or gardens on the Lower East Side being bulldozed
and replaced by condominiums. We put out a newspaper to try and
convince people that things like that are not in their interest.
Do you think the alternative press is a valuable counterweight to
the mainstream press?
LEWIS:Everything is viable. But don't expect results.

SHADOW:Maybe we're being naive, but maybe we serve some
purpose...
LEWIS:There's nothing wrong with being naive. But, after doing x
amount of time or years, don't throw your hands up in the air,
because, you see, everybody wants the "the win," they want it
today. It doesn't happen. The struggle goes on. The victory is in
the struggle, for me. And I accepted that a long time ago.
You write about police brutality. Go back to 1909, you'll see
about police brutality (laughs), it's not something new. People
don't really understand their role in society. I'll take this
where your newspaper goes: the destruction of the gardens. And
they're gonna be destroyed, there's no question about it. The
powers that be have so convinced the mass of people -- "Fuck the
gardens, those fucking freaky people carrying that horse shit and
fertilizer. A building is more beautiful than a fuckin' flower"
-- you have to say the mass of people are bought. The day that
they attempt to bulldoze the first garden, if ten thousand people
are standing there, the garden will never be bulldozed. You have
to understand, the power structure and the errand boys, the guys
who carry the bedpans for the power structure, the politicians,
councilmen, congressmen, senators, whatever, they only understand
one thing: numbers. It's numbers of voters.
You get fifty people out, "Fuck 'em. Get the local precinct,
hit 'em on the fucking head." Get ten thousand people out? God,
that's four hundred cameras, it's all over European television.
Scary. Numbers are scary. Your problem is to get ten thousand
people out on the street the first time they go to bulldoze that
garden. And you won't. But that's not a defeat. Because all you
can do, all I can do, is, I do a show, I influence those people.
Hopefully they'll carry that message forward.

That's all I can do. I don't own a newspaper, I don't own a radio
station. That's it. I don't feel bad about that. I understand the
limitations. I fight against them, I stretch 'em out. I'm not out
to save the world.

SHADOW:So you're doing what you can...
LEWIS:Yeah! To make things better for people. I've said, these
politicians that switched to [NYC Mayor Rudolph] Giuliani,
they're all gonna get paid off. Read American history, Tammany
Hall, Boss Tweed. You can't be stupid about where you live! I'm
for everyone having the opportunity to accept a $150,000 bribe.
That's what I'm fighting for! Why should they be the only guys
getting that money?

SHADOW:So, what do you think of this [mayoral] election between
Giuliani and [Ruth] Messinger?
LEWIS:Four more years of Benito Giuliani.

SHADOW:Why do you think they elect people like Giuliani?
LEWIS:Hey, you're the guy whose got the newspaper. You tell me.
I'll tell you why: 'cause you haven't convinced enough people.
How do you like that? Ya wanna carry that rock on your head?

SHADOW:How many people read the SHADOW? How many people act on
what they read or do something positive as a result?
LEWIS:If they don't, that's your problem. America gets the
politicians they deserve. That's it. And you keep struggling.
He'll win big. No question. We'll get four more years of this
shit, and it'll get worse.

SHADOW:Are there any good politicians that you've run into
recently?
LEWIS:In the cemetary? H.L. Mencken said: "Looking for an honest
politician is like looking for an ethical burglar."

SHADOW:In the 1950's, in the early days of television, did you
ever have any problems with the McCarthyites? The Blacklist?
LEWIS:If I did, I certainly wouldn't have known of it. They
didn't advertise it. See, it was strongest in film, and in that
period I didn't work in film. Big studios, that's where it took
its heaviest toll. In radio, only on a few biggies.

But I did hundreds of radio shows and I was just a voice. I was
not identified. I was not a "biggie." You knock off a biggie, you
set an example, so everybody else will run scared.

SHADOW:So during that period you
continued to go to demonstrations and all that and you were not
prevented from working?
LEWIS:Yeah, oh yeah, I don't give a fuck. And if I was
[blacklisted], how would I know? The guy didn't send me a mail
that said "We're not hiring you for this because you were at a
demonstration." What did I lose? A job? So big fucking deal. I'd
get another job. (Laughs) What's the big deal? What are they
offering me? Life? I'm signing a contract, I'm gonna live 300
years? I don't have an ego. All I wanted to do was to be able to
work. I didn't want to become famous or wealthy. Those are
byproducts. I never thought in that direction.

SHADOW:Were there any particular roles or shows that motivated
you more than others?
LEWIS:I've turned down a few roles. I've never taken a role that
demeans people. I just don't do it. What do you lose? A job? Big
fucking deal! Whatever you see me in, I'm not responsible for the
script. I'm only responsible for what I do. That's it. I got the
wagon home on time. That's it. I don't get involved in it. I'm an
actor. That's it.

SHADOW:Everything I've seen you in has been in good taste,
well-rounded...
LEWIS:You can say that or you can say I did it in good taste.
(Laughs) Look, you only go around once. You give it your best
shot. You guys, who knows what you'll be doing five years, not
even ten years from now? Chances are, in ten years that paper
[the SHADOW] won't exist. There's a long history of underground
outlaw papers -- the Berkeley Barb, the RAT here, which was very
popular in the Sixties. They lost their audience. Ten years is a
long time for an outlaw newspaper. As long as you gave it your
best shot, even if in the opinion of others "you failed," you
didn't fail.

SHADOW:What did you think as a middle-aged man about the youth
and free love culture popping up in the Sixties?
LEWIS:I went to all the Love-Ins. I took my kids. I enjoyed
myself.


SHADOW:That was around the time that you were doing the Munsters,
wasn't it? So people recognized you as Grandpa Munster.
LEWIS:Sure, absolutely. In Califiornia in that period, the
estimate was that
there were at least half a million runaways from the age of eight
on, drifting to California. Every Friday I used to have about
fifty, sixty kids who would wait for me on Sunset Boulevard and
I'd take them all to dinner. All runaways.
That's how I met Charlie Manson. He wanted to be in the music
business. He babysat my three kids. He didn't chop no heads off,
he was very nice with me. I met him in front the Whiskey-A-Go-Go
on Sunset Boulevard. He sat for four or five hours, he amused the
kids, he brought the guitar and he played, no big deal, no sweat.

SHADOW: Did you know any Sixties musicians, performers or anyone
like that?
LEWIS:Did I go out of my way to meet any performers? I'm more
important to me than any body you can mention. Do you know that?
Yeah, I met the Beatles, you name them, ain't no big fuckin'
deal. They couldn't get a hotel to put them up, so Universal
studios was encased with a wall, with their own police and
firemen. We stayed in a bungalow, and one of them stayed in mine.
I met Bobby Darin, you name them. Naturally, I'm in the business!

SHADOW: So after a lot of years in California, you decided to
come back to New York?
LEWIS: I came back to New York to do a film in Toronto, my wife
was doing a show in Massachusetts. I had a couple of ideas and
opened up a restaurant on Bleecker Street, a comedy club on
Staten Island -- still there seven, eight years. [Both
establishments named "Grandpa's" --Ed.]

SHADOW:It seems like you don't mind using that tag [Grandpa]...
LEWIS:Why would I mind? It pays my mortgage. And if I did mind,
what could I do about it? I created a character. You see, I'm a
lot smarter than the people who interview me. I'm very serious
now. I created a character that people love. You follow me around
and you will see total strangers greet me. Junkies, Wall Street
types. That was not my aim. I played a cantankerous persnickity
old man who enjoys screwing everybody up, and people love that.
That's how it turned out.

SHADOW:How much of Grandpa Munster was Al Lewis and how much of
Al Lewis was Grandpa Munster?
LEWIS:Everything. There's a part of me in everything. Car 54's
Schnauzer is a part of me. I can't do you. It's a composite, a
collage of my whole life. It's Al Lewis. I always say, "You hire
Al Lewis, you get the whole Al Lewis." He's loud, he's
opinionated, he smokes terrible cigars, that's it. I can't be and
I'm not going to attempt to be what someone thinks I should be.
That's the road to hell. Like they used to say uptown, "Don't
sing that song, I don't know the lyrics."

SHADOW:What do you think about the idea of squatting?
LEWIS:I think people need housing. And there's empty buildings,
I think people should live in there. If you want to call them
squatters, trespassers, hey, I call Wall Street thieves! Oscar
Wilde said the rich and the poor are equal -- they can both sleep
under the bridge. Right? (Laughs). Do they have a right? You're
damn right they have a right! And the police, because they are
hired by the property owners, have the right to hit them on the
head and throw 'em out. That's the society, that's how it's
organized. You and I might not like it, but that's what they're
here for. They're not here to prevent the city or the owner of
the building to throw them out, they're there to hit the guys on
the head and throw them out. [Playing a cop] "Hey, I'm doing a
job, man, I've got a family, you know, my kids gotta go to camp."
I get one or two cops who call me on the show [on WBAI-FM]
and I discuss with them and there's many points that we can agree
on. And the more points you can agree on, the points that day you
disagree on, they may not a week from now. That's the lesson you
learn.

SHADOW: Of course, you played Schnauzer, a police man. What do
you think of that role, playing a policeman?
LEWIS:I never thought about it, I just
did it. Cops love it. I've played so many going away parties and
retirement parties. I used to do a yearly show at the Trenton War
Memorial Auditorium for the New Jersey State police, and the next
time they would see me on a picket line. [Playing a cop] "Hey,
what are you doing there?"

SHADOW:What's your secret for success, for a long, healthy, happy
life?
LEWIS:My secret for success? I don't know what the hell success
means. (Laughs) I'll tell you what my secret is.
It took me a long time to find this out. Find something that you
absolutely love to do. Not you like it, or it's pleasant,
something that you absolutely love to do. And along the way, if
you're lucky, get to love the way you do it. Then you're home
free. And you're looking at a man right now. I got a spine made
out of stainless steel. Nothing shrinks it, nothing, nothing.
Because I know who I am. I don't have to brag. I know what I
contributed. I know what I did. You think you can do it better?
Hey, go right ahead. The stage is yours. But find something that
you absolutely love doing. And then get to love the way you do
it. That's the uniqueness of all of us. That's it.
Albert Einstein, one of my favorites, said: "Imagination is
more important than knowledge." And if that cat say it, it's good
enough for me.

(Al Lewis' radio show AL LEWIS LIVE can be heard on WBAI radio
(99.5 FM in New York City) on Saturdays at 12:00 noon)

SHADOW: So, getting back to your show business career, when did
you first act in a Broadway play?

LEWIS: In the '30's, Olson and Johnson, Helzapoppin, I forget
exactly the year. The last thing I did on Broadway was a musical
called Do Re Mi at the St. James Theater from 1960 to 1962 with
Phil Silvers, Nancy Walker, George Matthews. I have an old brain
but a terrific memory.

SHADOW:So have you played any roles recently?
LEWIS:I just did a film in Toronto a few months ago. I do mostly
now memorabilia shows, autograph shows, and if the guy comes
through with the money, I'll do a film out in California. I
learned this from my mother: you have to know what you're worth.
I don't work cheap. Everybody has a worth. I don't ask for what a
piece of shit like Tom Cruise gets. A piece of shit who can't act
his way in or out of a paper bag. Somebody wants to pay him that,
it's no skin off my fuckin' ass. But what I'm saying is, know
what you're worth. Know what you contribute. If you don't know
that, you're in fuckin' trouble, man. And the one thing I learned
from my mother is: never sell yourself short. My mother used to
say, in broken English: "This is a big world. When you go out,
there's millions of people ready to kick you in the ass. Don't
bend down to accomodate them." That's peasant humor. Even biggies
in Hollywood don't understand that. They'll bend down to take the
kick, but they'll get two million for the picture. Not Al Lewis,
not my mother's favorite son. No, no, no.

the petronas towers (Jody Beth Rosen), Sunday, 5 February 2006 00:55 (nineteen years ago)

ESPN's news hook. "Basketball Scout Al Lewis"?!?!

Very sad, but what a great life lived. RIP.

truck-patch pixel farmer (my crop froze in the field) (Rock Hardy), Sunday, 5 February 2006 15:13 (nineteen years ago)

I hallooed him when he was standing in front of his (reportedly terrible) restaurant once, and got a very Grandpa-like "Good EVE-ning."

Check him out as Gig Young's sidekick in They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

Dr Morbius (Dr Morbius), Sunday, 5 February 2006 18:37 (nineteen years ago)

yeah we ate at his restaurant a few times in the early 90s was it? mediocre "redsauce" italian. after awhile he got another older guy who looked something like him but not that close to take his place on the sidewalk in front of his joint. it beccame a running joke for me & my wife, "oh that's the FAKE grandpa." An icon of any 60s childhood I guess, but no offense I preferred the Addams Family. Youuuuu rang?

m coleman (lovebug starski), Sunday, 5 February 2006 19:03 (nineteen years ago)

The best scenes were always btwn him and Gwynne -- they had a real vaudevillian chemistry that sparked the material.

Dr Morbius (Dr Morbius), Sunday, 5 February 2006 19:24 (nineteen years ago)

cf. Car 54, Where Are You?

my folks watched that show when I was a little tyke, all I remember is the haunting theme song and bits of an episode revolving around one of the cops craving Hungarian ghoulash.

m coleman (lovebug starski), Sunday, 5 February 2006 19:48 (nineteen years ago)

Aw man... I realize Al Lewis's passing isn't surprising, and I hope it was peaceful..

..especially given that he even outlived Raul Julia who reenacted a younger Adams family character in a remake!

But it just ain't right, Al Lewis should have been immortal. It would have made more sense. :(

Dom iNut (donut), Sunday, 5 February 2006 20:23 (nineteen years ago)

his (reportedly terrible) restaurant once

well duh.

1) celebrity restaurants are never good
2) jews are hopeless at italian food (they should leave it to the greeks and puerto ricans)

jimmy loves maryann, jimmy wants to be her man (Jody Beth Rosen), Sunday, 5 February 2006 20:59 (nineteen years ago)

I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he comes off as really obnoxious in that interview.

Abbadavid Berman (Hurting), Monday, 6 February 2006 01:24 (nineteen years ago)

i agree with his premise, which is that "hippies" will never get anything accomplished if they don't have strength in numbers. otherwise it's all just hot air.

jimmy loves maryann, jimmy wants to be her man (Jody Beth Rosen), Monday, 6 February 2006 02:09 (nineteen years ago)

I just tire very quickly of people of his generation brow beating people of younger generations with "You don't get it, you don't understand, you weren't there." Ok Grandpa, and you weren't in the Civil War either.

Abbadavid Berman (Hurting), Monday, 6 February 2006 03:27 (nineteen years ago)

FWIW, my own late grandfather was very much like that, and also an extremely active leftist who had a similar life story. I admired my grandfather very much but also felt like he lorded his life story over me, the sheltered third/fourth generation kid who could never be as tough as him. So this is probably personal bitterness on my part.

Abbadavid Berman (Hurting), Monday, 6 February 2006 03:31 (nineteen years ago)

I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he comes off as really obnoxious in that interview.
-- Abbadavid Berman (Hurtingchie...) (webmail), Today 1:24 AM. (later) (link)

He sounds like a cantankerous old get. Kinda like that. You get to a certain age, you think you can say what you like, and probably rightly so.

He did go out of his way to mean "nothing personal against you, but you don't know" which is fair enough. If you did know, why ask questions...

(I was going to bump this up, anyway)

mark grout (mark grout), Monday, 6 February 2006 12:01 (nineteen years ago)

He does sound like a grumpy old man, but the interview gives us nothing but the bald word and it could be that he was grinning and being cheerily avuncular through the whole thing.

accentmonkey (accentmonkey), Monday, 6 February 2006 12:15 (nineteen years ago)

Grandpa was always cheerily avuncular. His nickname should have been "Great Uncle", not "Grandpa"!

Whatever happened to Pat Priest?

Dave will do (dave225.3), Monday, 6 February 2006 13:11 (nineteen years ago)

A film-industry friend who knew him from the set of The World of Henry Orient said he was "certifiable" (as in nuts) way back then.

Drawing on a cigar and blowing smoke out yer ears: BEST TV SIGHT GAG EVER!

Dr Morbius (Dr Morbius), Monday, 6 February 2006 14:36 (nineteen years ago)

2nd best.

Best:

truck-patch pixel farmer (my crop froze in the field) (Rock Hardy), Monday, 6 February 2006 14:39 (nineteen years ago)

has anyone seen what Al had to say in the "Ramones Raw" video??

Dr Morbius (Dr Morbius), Monday, 6 February 2006 15:56 (nineteen years ago)

i saw that when it aired on trio a few years ago but i can't remember if al said anything of note.

jimmy loves maryann, jimmy wants to be her man (Jody Beth Rosen), Monday, 6 February 2006 17:25 (nineteen years ago)

NY Times Columnist Dan Barry wrote on Saturday that Al he lied about his age -- he was only 82 (YOUNGER than Yvonne "Lily" DeCarlo!) -- and about much of his pre-Munsters life! being a labor organizer in the '30s, working on behalf of the Scottsboro Boys, having a Columbia doctorate, etc. Never believe an old actor.

Anyone with TimesSelect, pls cut & paste.

Dr Morbius (Dr Morbius), Monday, 13 February 2006 14:38 (nineteen years ago)

gerard had this on cstb, prolly not the whole thing:

Actors who lie about their age usually subtract, not add, years, and few would have the nerve to fudge those years by more than a decade. But at some point Mr. Lewis began to claim that he was born in 1910, when he was actually born in 1923. In other words, he was 13 years old by the time he was born.

Why? The prevailing theory holds that in 1964, when he was vying for the role as ancient Grandpa, Mr. Lewis worried that he might lose the job because he was actually younger than Yvonne De Carlo, the actress who would be playing his daughter, Lily. So he aged himself, a lot, in a ruse no doubt abetted by his rubbery face.

This little lie may not have mattered much at the time. But as the years passed, and as Lewis emerged in New York as a cranky radio talk-show host and freewheeling candidate, he apparently chose to flesh out those 13 phantom years of his.

He was said to have been born Alexander or Albert Meister in 1910, in the upstate town of Wolcott; officials there say they have no record of any Meister. After moving to Brooklyn, he was said to have worked on the defense committee for Sacco and Vanzetti, two Italian anarchists who were executed in 1927; challenging work for a child of 4.

When Lewis talked about the 1930’s, he described himself not as a boy growing into long pants, but as an adventurous man, always in the mix of history. He said that he worked as a radio actor, circus clown, trapeze artist, medicine show “professor,” and union organizer in the South, where, he once said, “you faced death at any moment.”

He said that he appeared in Olsen and Johnson’s “Hellzapoppin’,” the Broadway hit of 1938. He said that he championed the cause of the Scottsboro Boys, nine black teenagers who were accused of raping two white women in a profoundly flawed case.

All this while he was working on a doctorate in child psychology, which he was said to have earned at Columbia University in 1941 — or 1949. The university, though, has no record of this.

hstencil (hstencil), Monday, 13 February 2006 15:39 (nineteen years ago)

hahaha. yeah, the jury's been out on his "real" age for a while.

kanye twitty (Jody Beth Rosen), Monday, 13 February 2006 15:58 (nineteen years ago)

wasn't there a favorite bar of his on roosevelt island where he often held court? anyone know the name? damn, i always wanted to et up there and buy him a drink.

midi sanskrit (sanskrit), Monday, 13 February 2006 16:13 (nineteen years ago)


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