Our Renaissance Guy gets to know the story of a REAL jack of all trades: Jack Soo.
After the premiere screen- ing of You Don't Know Jack: The Jack Soo Story , at the S.F. International Asian American Film Festival at the Sundance Kabuki theater, Dianne, my wife, turned to me as the applause wafted up to the stage, where the director and producer, Jeff Adachi , stood smiling. Until we saw this documentary of Jack Soo , we really didn't know Jack. But Dianne knows me, and she said, "Wow. You two had a LOT in common!"
And, of course, she was right. Soo, best known for his work in The Flower Drum Song , both in the film and on Broadway, and in the '70s sitcom, Barney Miller (he was the deadpan smart-alecky detective sergeant, Nick Yemane), was born in 1917, almost 30 years before I was, and was a Japanese American. Those are some big diffs. Two others: he was interned, along with thousands of fellow Japanese Americans, during World War II. And he became a star as an actor and all-around entertainer.
Still, watching this fascinating, well-researched, well-told biography -- a must-see for anyone interested in Asian American history and pop culture -- I was struck by more than a few harmonic notes:
For starters, we both were raised in Oakland, both went to Westlake Jr. High, and both wound up with unique names. Soo was originally Goro Suzuki; became Carl Suzuki, and then, after the war, when he began working nightclubs in the Midwest, changed his name to Jack Soo. In that...
A Super Day in Hollywood, Impersonating an Impersonator
Showbiz, like life, is unfair.
This rather obvious fact was brought home as I made my way around a studio in Hollywood one recent day, getting made up as an "Asian Elvis Impersonator" for a new series on Spike TV, and then wander - ing around, in big wig, Elvis shades, a caped red, bejeweled jump - suit, and high-heeled silver boots.
Makeup artists, crew members, fellow cast members would ask, "Where do you do your Elvis act?"
Nowhere. I don't have an Elvis act. I'm not an impersonator.
"How long have you been singing?"
I'm not a professional singer.
"Have you acted long?"
I'm not an actor. A couple of bits here and there, but, no...
And yet, here I am on a show starring "Super Dave," the faux daredevil superstar (created and portrayed by Bob Einstein). Others on this particular episode include Larry David, creator of Seinfeld and star of my favorite show, Curb Your Enthusiasm ; Bob Saget, Carrot Top, Jimmy Kimmel, and a bevy of beautiful girls in scanty bikinis (as if there are any other kind).
How dare me? In this business called show, where hundreds of actors line up to audition for any one tiny bit of work, here I am, wobbling around, set to portray the King of Rock and Roll. And I did nothing to get the part.
Just a couple of days before-on a Saturday morning-I got an e-mail. It was from Julie, a casting director, asking if I might be available Tuesday to play an Asian Elvis impersonator. I thought I was being...
AC's Renaissance Man Ben Fong-Torres is invited to share highlights of his life and times to a packed audience in Mill Valley.
The idea blossomed about a year ago: It would be called Telling Your Story, and I would involve people known for their ability to tell stories to advise others on how to relate their own stories in the form of an oral history, a written memoirs, or a multi-media presentation, aimed at family and friends or the public at large.
I heard the idea from Alan Unger, a friend who was working with The Redwoods, the rather hip and radical retirement community in Mill Valley, in Marin County (natch). He thought it would be cool if Amy Tan and I could kick off the series early in 2009. I told him we were both good choices but not together. If Amy were involved, I said, it would have to be the Amy Tan show, and I would be happy to serve as interviewer.
No, he said. We want you to tell your story, too. And, knowing that I was more available than Amy (who, at that time, was mounting the opera version of her novel, The Bonesetters Daughter), he convinced me to do the premiere program, in September. This was back in January, and it was a stretch to respond, Oh, September 17th. Darn! I just happen to be busy.
And so it was that, for the first time in my 40-year career (if we peg its beginning at May, 1969, when I joined Rolling Stone as a writer and editor), I sat down for an onstage interview about me. The interrogator was a long-time friend, Kathi Goldmark, who...
Renaissance man Ben Fong-Torres muses about reunions, memories, and congratulates the Community Youth Center in SF Chinatown. The CYC has a brand new home, and unveils a plaque honoring Barry Fong-Torres - his late brother.
ALL YOU CAN REMEMBER: For a 50th year reunion of a junior high school class, it was a low-key affair. Actually, it was not a full-blown reunion of the class of 59 at Westlake Junior High, three-year home away from home for the kids of Oakland Chinatown. Organized by Lucky Owyang, it gathered just a couple dozen alumni, mostly Asian American. It did not take place in a hotel banquet room or an outdoor picnic. We met at Fortuna Buffet, an all-you-can-eat emporium in Chinatown, where seniors (thats us!) could load up to our heart conditions desire for $7.99.
That is my kind of reunion!
Anyway, we had a blast especially once we figured out who we all were. (There were no name tags; no program; just show up and hang out.) This was on the eve of that Telling Your Story series I was kicking off at The Redwoods (see my previous dispatch) in Marin County, so I was already open to nostalgia. Sure enough, a woman sat down next to me and proceeded to tell me that at Westlake (where I was student body president) and Oakland High (where I became Commissioner of Assemblies and produced the almost-weekly programs), I was looked up to.
This was not an easy feat, as I was just about the shortest kid in school. But, she pressed on, You were on the student council, and...
New Year Parade: Remembering the First Time.
It's the Year of the Tiger "insert your own joke here" and, as I prepare to co-host the telecast of the San Francisco Chinese New Year Parade on KTVU for the 14th year, I've been taking looks back to past parades, all the way back to the first one.
The memories would be pretty dim, if not for the fact that I wrote about it soon after surviving it. Having gone through two co-anchor changes (I've been with Julie Haener since 2001), and with three Emmy Awards under our belts, I find it fun to read about that first time out, in the KTVU tent on Market Street (We've since moved to Union Square).
It was February 22, 1997, the Year of the Ox. Here's how my first ride went.
The first explosions jolted Elaine Corral, the co-anchor of the nightly newscast on San Francisco's KTVU.
But it was just firecrackers. Workers on the Embarcadero end of Market Street were beginning the process of carpeting the boulevard with the red shreds of paper from burnt firecrackers. It was the first of many explosions to come.
Sitting next to Elaine, I was no less jittery. We were trying to rehearse for the station's coverage of the Chinese New Year Parade. Elaine, of course, is a pro anchor. But, for a co-host, she was being saddled with a first-timer: me.
Sure, I've done some time on the tube, but usually as a subject of interviews, and usually when the subject is the death of a rock star. But co-anchoring a two-hour live event? Reading from a...