Exactly what is THE OLD BLUE EYES
MEMORIAL CELEBRITY DEATH WATCH and how did it come about? These are questions
that have baffled mankind for ages. Today, thanks to the internet and the
time and energy of two goofy guys with a bit of spare time, you can unravel
these mysteries (you lucky dog, you) and dazzle your friends with your
knowledge. The story you are about to read is not pretty. It can
be disturbing, disruptive, emotionally turbulent, and morally bankrupt.
But, it must be told. So, if you feel you have the intestinal
fortitude and the lack of sense we've come to expect, grab your beverage
of choice, pop some corn, tuck in the kids, and read on......
TIME: The early 1990's.
PLACE: Hawthorne, New Jersey
Two guys are wasting away their hours. "Conversing with the flowers," you
ask? "No", we say. What they are doing however, is hanging around a joint
called The Front Porch Pub and Restaurant located in Hawthorne, New Jersey
(Wagraw Road if you're looking for it). The guys sit about and drink beer,
eat turkey sandwiches, play pinball, and pontificate (well, they drink beer,
eat sandwiches, and play pinball at least). On occasion these fine young
lads discuss the news of the day. For example, one might say, "Hey, Telly
Savalas died." the other might reply, "Join the Players Club" in an outright
awful impression of the bald, lollipop sucking, Greek. Life goes on. Kamikazes
are served. Time passes. Chicken in the basket is ordered. The calender changes.
One guy smells something terrible (he forever claims it is the other guy's pinball skills).
The O.B.E seed is planted.
TIME: Early 1990's
PLACE: Clifton, New Jersey
The guys enjoy what is known, by most sane persons, to be the best hot dog in the free world
at a little joint called Rutt's Hut (if you're ever in Clifton, New Jersey
eat one of these dogs or forever regret your failure to do so. It's on River
Road). The radiant beauty of the serving staff at Rutt's is supplemented
by the din of a news report coming from the overhead speakers. The news,
friends, is bleak. Is it that the USA has just attacked Iraq? No. Is it that
Gennifer Flowers claims to have had an affair with Bill Clinton? No. It is
far worse! It is news that an old vaudevillian, Pinky Lee, has died. Now
don't get us wrong, The Guys have never heard of Pinky. But, that never
stopped these two clowns. Pinky Lee becomes their mantra. Toasts and dedications
are made for weeks. Memorials are held. Pinky Lee has died and The Guys
are determined to have his memory live on. Trust us folks, if you need a
dead horse beaten, call The Guys.
TIME: Early 1990's through Mid 1990's
PLACES: Fair Lawn, New Jersey; Nutley, New Jersey; Middlesex, New Jersey;
and Long Beach, California
Many changes occur in the lives of our heroes. One Guy moves west. One Guy marries.
Beers are served. The clock ticks. Wise cracks are made. The sand falls. Celebrities die.
The sicknesscontinues. You'd think Pinky Lee would have been enough. You'd think that, but
you'd be wrong silly! Each and every time a celebrity dies, The Guys
make the obligatory phone calls. They send condolences to each other. They
create song parodies. They crack jokes. They make toasts. Ultimately, they
drag in their friends and their family. The horse is nothing more than a
carcass and The Guys keep beating.
One man comes to the forefront to join in the fun. That man is the father of one of the Guys.
These three silly men call each other every single time a celebrity keels,
sometimes in the middle of the night. The jokes get more twisted, the guys
laugh themselves silly. The clock chimes. One Guy's father sheds this mortal coil.
Soon, the other Guy's dad one joins him. Tears are shed. Drinks are poured. Laughter
fuels the Guys forward.
TIME: 1996-1997
PLACE: The Internet
The Guys take their absurdity to a new high (or low) by betting on
the likelihood that a certain famous crooner will/will not make it through
the year. One Guy ends up a poorer man by the end of 1996 but takes the bet
again for 1997. What the hell was that Guy doo bee doo bee doing? Who knows.
Suffice it to say, he lost some cash. Throughout these years the Guys are
forever e-mailing taunts to each other. Song parodies reign supreme. Midnight
calls regarding celebrity deaths are the norm. Bi-coastal visits occur. Nights
of smiles and laughter to the point of tears are born. Sometimes there's heartache and
those smiles come in handy. Slowly a philosophy is formed. A philosophy that
recognizes that the greatest value in life is found in time spent laughing,
joking about, sharing food and drink, and enjoying one's friends. Our heroes
begin to feel their twentys yield and greet their melancholy thirtys, not
with tears and sentimentality, but with broad grins.
TIME: Late 1997
PLACES: Middlesex, New Jersey and Long Beach, California
The guys surf the net regularly. Emails abound. Internet Phone allows voice to voice
communication via the net. The fellas stumble on a site called
Stiffs.com. What they have known for
years is validated. The boys feel they have no choice but to serve their
friends and family. The summer of 1997 finds The Guys diligently working
out the details of the first annual Old Blue Eyes Celebrity Death Watch.
The guys agree it must be more than a death pool. It must be funny, show
a level of appreciation to both the past tense celebrities and the players
who visit. It must also keep the spirit of early notification on celebrity
deaths alive. The Guys hatch their 1998 Old Blue Eyes Celebrity
Death Watch in October of 1997. Once the entries are in on December 31,
1997, the fellas begin the Watch. Death notices go out regularly. Some people
get pissed off but most giggle. The mailing list grows. The popularity increases.
An institution is born. And from the heavens The Guys hear a quiet
but definite voice state, "Idiots!, The two of them." and they smile.
A cork is popped. A new year approaches. Life and death alike provide the
fuel for our heroes' fodder.
Well, we hope you have learned something about the O.B.E. and its founders.
Now stop staring at this screen looking like a baffled monkey and head on
over to the entry form and join the
O.B.E.