This is stretching “celebrity” definition status, but for BBers of a certain vintage who watched television sitcoms “Hogan’s Heroes” and “Bewitched”, the player of Colonel Crittendon and Dr. Bombay, respectively, Bernard Fox, died today at age 89 of heart failure in Van Nuys, California.
Deadline (hee!) obit.
It’s really hard for Canadians to say “sorry” when they’re unconscious, as Mr. Thicke had been, so you’re correct in stating he went out in nearly the most Canadian way possible.
Thank you.
I was trying to figure out a way to make that joke, but couldn’t make it come out right.
A front desk person at a Vancouver hotel and I spent, I kid you not, three whole minutes volleying “I’m sorry” “No, I’m sorry” “No really I shouldn’t have” “I’m sorry” back at each other and I was so thankful my US family was not there because they would have fallen on the floor in hysterics.
“Hahaha look at the stereotype! You see how your mother talks among her kind?”
Tieing this to dead celebrity… uh, can’t, but my brother’s bones were in my hotel room safe at the time, and when I had a “visitation” in my sleep from my brother weeks later, he apologized to me for checking out so fast! Maybe Alan will do the same to his family.
(spoiler: not from choking)
Zsa Zsa Gabor, maybe.
Anyone have a better, more trustworthy source for this?
Edit:
Confirmed by BBC
This one?
Not a celebrity, but if you or a loved one received radiation therapy for cancer you probably used the schedules he developed…
One of my all time favorite professors.
Makes me sadder than I expected, even though he lived a very long fulfilling life.
Let’s not forget Bernard Fox’s recurring role as Malcolm Merriweather on The Andy Griffith Show–one of the few characters to make a return visit to Mayberry. And I want say he’s one of the best parts of The Mummy but that would sound like damning with faint praise.
He was so funny and charming I always thought he was the star even when he had small roles.
I remember years ago when I was young and inexperienced, he turned up to give a talk at a venue I was responsible for. We’d been working since seven that morning, putting in as much of an opera as we could manage in the very limited time available, with this talk in the middle of it. He arrived mid-morning, to find us - mostly me, if I’m honest - in a form of rigidly controlled near-panic. He instantly went out of his way to calm me, going so far as to invite me into his dressing room to eat his complimentary sandwiches, while he said don’t worry at all about me: nothing but the simplest possible lighting, really it’ll be fine with either a radio microphone or a wired, it really doesn’t matter; and sit, just sit for a few minutes, the world will not stop turning if you sit and rest for just a couple of minutes: and have another sandwich. We sat and chatted until I was happy to carry on. A really delightful man.
quite possibly the best cover of a camper van beethoven song ever.
b3ta is sad today.
There ya go. Merry Christmas.
(insert Last Christmas joke here if you’re feeling morbid)
