I am the nut job comedian who in 1975 or 1976 invented the little known pope door behind Johnny Carson's desk. (It's nowhere on line, so I hereby give The Tonight Show my permission to publish it free of charge.) I'm unknown outside a small circle of fading celebs who may remember me, but I've been influential. I even knew Michael Jackson and others and I thus know a lot of stuff about Hollywood through my associations in the 1970s, so behave yourselves.
When I was a child in the late 1950s or early 1960s, I wanted the lizard on a sculpture (grave: Charles Stodghil Miles) in Pine Hill Cemetery in Auburn, Alabama and was caught trying to chip it off with a hammer and screwdriver. A year subsequent perhaps, the policeman who'd stopped me informed me that someone else, students, had vandalized the statue very badly, that the head was unreconstructable where they'd found it in a forest in pieces.
However, why he was telling me that I don't know. It doesn't quite make sense. The statue was already shattering around a piece of rebar, I think, inside it at the top of one arm near where the head later came off (probably from occasional ice storms in the area) and I suspect the man himself had said it just to scare me off from hanging out there visiting with the ghosts who I now suspect had taken to protecting me from him and from my wanderlust on my decrepit old bicycle. My father was a high ranking Auburn University employee, just like the father of the boy in the grave, so that, too, probably helped keep me out of trouble crossing people's yards, poking around on campus and so forth.
What has all this to do with Chris Udvarnoky, at whose findagrave site I have left a message of profound praise for his humility and genius as a one-time child actor in the movie, The Other?
Well, in Charles Stodghil Miles' very recent ancestry on line, I've discovered the family name Perry ... and certain memories, graveyard ghost sightings by me there, and inexplicable dreams ...
... and a childhood friend who played in the cemetery with me before Chris Udvarnoky was ever born, much less made the movie ten years later. She named him! Said a ghost claimed to be him.
Oh, Chris!
Charles Stodghil Miles died of an insect bite similar to one I got when I was fivee in 1958 and nearly killed me. It was called a kissing fly. I wonder what bit HIM?
Oh, my!
Synchronicities therefore suggest the dead are never dead, I suspect, that they can even travel in time and do all sorts of stuff to let us know they are watching and maybe protecting.
And maybe we are them.
They can even be funny about that.
So I leave my gratitude and respects in this hallowed place of the net.
Even if I'm talking only to myself or to them.
I also have a thing for Charles I's daughter, but that's another story.
I doubt I'm her. Haven't worn a dress since I was a boy of eight, and then only once to school. Big mistake.

I am the nut job comedian who in 1975 or 1976 invented the little known pope door behind Johnny Carson's desk. (It's nowhere on line, so I hereby give The Tonight Show my permission to publish it free of charge.) I'm unknown outside a small circle of fading celebs who may remember me, but I've been influential. I even knew Michael Jackson and others and I thus know a lot of stuff about Hollywood through my associations in the 1970s, so behave yourselves.
When I was a child in the late 1950s or early 1960s, I wanted the lizard on a sculpture (grave: Charles Stodghil Miles) in Pine Hill Cemetery in Auburn, Alabama and was caught trying to chip it off with a hammer and screwdriver. A year subsequent perhaps, the policeman who'd stopped me informed me that someone else, students, had vandalized the statue very badly, that the head was unreconstructable where they'd found it in a forest in pieces.
However, why he was telling me that I don't know. It doesn't quite make sense. The statue was already shattering around a piece of rebar, I think, inside it at the top of one arm near where the head later came off (probably from occasional ice storms in the area) and I suspect the man himself had said it just to scare me off from hanging out there visiting with the ghosts who I now suspect had taken to protecting me from him and from my wanderlust on my decrepit old bicycle. My father was a high ranking Auburn University employee, just like the father of the boy in the grave, so that, too, probably helped keep me out of trouble crossing people's yards, poking around on campus and so forth.
What has all this to do with Chris Udvarnoky, at whose findagrave site I have left a message of profound praise for his humility and genius as a one-time child actor in the movie, The Other?
Well, in Charles Stodghil Miles' very recent ancestry on line, I've discovered the family name Perry ... and certain memories, graveyard ghost sightings by me there, and inexplicable dreams ...
... and a childhood friend who played in the cemetery with me before Chris Udvarnoky was ever born, much less made the movie ten years later. She named him! Said a ghost claimed to be him.
Oh, Chris!
Charles Stodghil Miles died of an insect bite similar to one I got when I was fivee in 1958 and nearly killed me. It was called a kissing fly. I wonder what bit HIM?
Oh, my!
Synchronicities therefore suggest the dead are never dead, I suspect, that they can even travel in time and do all sorts of stuff to let us know they are watching and maybe protecting.
And maybe we are them.
They can even be funny about that.
So I leave my gratitude and respects in this hallowed place of the net.
Even if I'm talking only to myself or to them.
I also have a thing for Charles I's daughter, but that's another story.
I doubt I'm her. Haven't worn a dress since I was a boy of eight, and then only once to school. Big mistake.