Unbelieva-Yule-Ku

Blessed Christmas time!

The Yule! The spirit! Warmth's glow!

Camaraderie!

A joyous season 

Which seemingly melts stern hearts

With simple greetings ...

Generous offers,

Genuine invitation

Make pause possible.

Why? How is this so?

There's never time enough ... but ...

Christmas avails us.

We stop, consider,

And, in reflection, we know

Christmas' aura, cheer.

So we greet and call

And plan reunion and mirth

And thus feed Yule's call.

To all we offer,

We Unbelievables three:

Good tidings, Ladies!

Playboy And The Unbelievables: Part 1

Yes ... The Unbelievables have been in Playboy Magazine. Several times as a matter of fact. 

Quite a few years ago we did a short little series of Q&As with one of the contributors and, as a little holiday treat, we're reproducing those sessions here this week. Jeff and Clark will be along later during this last full week of the year to share their discussions. 

Playboy Magazine: "So ... do you believe in Santa Claus, Michael? And the other Unbelievables? Clark? Jeff?"

Michael: "Of course I do ... all three of us do. We've never had any doubt ... not a one of us. We may be called 'The Unbelievables,' but that only holds true of our accomplishments, which are quite unbelievable. 

"But not in our beliefs. Santa is out there - he visits just like clockwork to all the good little boys and girls. That is without question and we love the old fat man because of it.

"But he isn't without his mischievous side ... something we approve of heartily. You can see evidence of this by some of the stocking stuffers he's suggested to us over the years ..."





"This little gem was one he advised we pass along to some of our fortunate lady fans: A 'head light' bra with vintage Volkswagen head lamps. (Hello, ladies!) This item has been a hit on every level each time we've given them. They really 'light up the night' if you catch my meaning."






"And these spiffy drawers have got it going on, let me tell you. They might look a little randy, but these underwear are outfitted with a special hermetically-sealed flask capable of distributing anything from keg-fresh beer to that perfectly shaken (not stirred) martini right on through to the best Cosmopolitan you've ever sipped. Shake, shake, shake ... shake, shake, shake ... shake your booty, boys.

"See? With nifty stocking stuffers such as these, is there any doubt Santa exists? 

"In return, we've passed along fashion advice to the jolly old elf, stuff he's used to impress Mrs. Claus over the years, very much to her delight.

"But we'll never tell where Father Christmas gets his 'ideas' ... Mrs. Claus can just keep thinking Kris Kringle is 'the man.'

"So yes, here and now, without a hint of hesitation: The Unbelievables do indeed believe in old St. Nick. We've always treasured our special relationship with him ... we always will." 

Playboy Magazine: "Thanks for taking a few minutes with us, Michael."

Michael: "My pleasure. And Merry Christmas to you."

Christmas Continues With The Unbelievables

Yes ... the holidays - and especially Christmastime - harbor some pretty treasured memories for The Unbelievables. It's not all about vanquishing the deeds of evil-doers and righting wrongs. Even the bad guys take a break every once in a while which gives Clark, Jeff and I time to indulge in a little Yuletide cheer.

Take the above picture for example. It was after we foiled James St. James (yes ... that James St. James) and his "3rd Worst World Domination Idea Ever" that we were able to toss an under-privileged kids affair in the mid-West back in the day. Here we're seen with Jeff and I on guitar, Clark hefting an accordion (who knew!) and the lovely Chula Vista on upright base. I remember Clark was hot to debut a few Christmas polkas. Being the fair gents Jeff and I are, we accommodated him to a fault. Of course we were skeptical at first (never having previously heard the songs), but Clark's short list proved a minor hit with the youngsters. (Little Jimmy at the bottom right of the photo was the only hold out and kept interrupting in the middle of each ditty shouting "Whatta rip off! I don't see any polka dots!" I think he was just jealous of the lot of us.)

And yes ... you better believe The Unbelievables have thrown some much-appreciated shindigs at retirement homes for the senior contingent. Here, Marcy Jeremiah is about to introduce us as we come out to put on a little skit about Misfit Toys (complete with props and in full regalia) but someone yelled "Fire!" and scattered half the crowd out of the cafeteria ... including the photographer. (The other half began clapping and asking for coffee refills.)

One of the weirdest things about the place was the salt and pepper shakers. You can see one on the table in the foreground - they were hollowed out deer antlers. Tip either the salt or the pepper a little too far and you could poke an eye out with the things.

You know ... the "black and white" years were some of the best for putting together an Unbelievables soirée. In the photo above somewhere in the Northwest at the "Mostly Boys Home Marching And Chowder Society," Jeff had the privilege of playing Santa. The highlight of the affair was when I asked if anyone would like to make him "fly like Santa does with this reindeer" and everyone enthusiastically propelled Jeff into the air and got him to crowd-surf from one end of the auditorium to the other. Good times, indeed.

A couple Unbelievables parties weren't without their controversies, however, and didn't completely go off as planned. (They can't all be legendary, you understand.) This one - for "Uncle Bill's Fiddle And Geetar Club" in Rapid City, South Dakota - was remembered for its dour tone. All the folks wanted to do was practice local folk tunes, never once warming to any Yuletide merriment. "We don't cater to outsiders much 'round these parts," Uncle Bill's cousin Jeb told us when we first got there "... so don't get all 'Let's-show-these-folks-how-it's-done-in-the-big-city' on us." Try as we might, we couldn't get a single "fa-la-la-la-la" or "Jingle Bells" out of the lot. It was all business: First, lunch with Spam and toast and sarsaparilla (the sarsaparilla was the epitome of these folks' excitement) followed by folk tunes, folk tunes and more folk tunes. One guy deviously tried injecting a fiddle ending that almost sounded Christmasy, but he was poked in the ribs with a bow by Great Aunt Flo in the daring white and green striped shirt. Clark and I felt so out of place as Santa and one of his elves (bottom left corner). It's a small wonder they even allowed us in the shot.

The above gathering was another we like to remind ourselves of from time to time. At one point in the history of our frolickous holiday traditions, it was necessary to curb the shenanigans and host a buttoned-down affair. We have Marissa Rapier to thank for that. It seems her "potty mouth" was becoming something of a deterrent to the traditional get-togethers and implementation of manners and mannerisms were the order of the day. The result is the staid, starched shindig "thrown" a few years back and seen here with Jeff presiding over "the festivities." He thought it best to sit directly across from Riss to keep tabs on any possible outbursts. Really, it was the fact she was required to dress smartly that did the trick in keeping her on the up and up. (Well ... that ... and the "Profanity Positively Forbidden" sign seen in the background.) 

Oh, sure ... we can all laugh about it now, but at the time, she was a handful. Sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do. And the result? Everyone is the better for it.

Now ... everyone raise a glass of nog: Merry Christmas!

Unbelievables Photo Archive: Christmas Parties

Well folks, it's the holiday season, and here at Unbelievables HQ (a.k.a. Unbelieva-base) we're planning the annual office party. So with that in mind, it's time to look back at some parties of Christmas past and reminisce. So pull up your favourite high-backed leather armchair, don your cravat and smoking jacket, pour yourself a merry little cocktail and cue the warm fuzzy memories.

Here we are at a party with our friends from The Indescribables (pictured wearing the plaid slacks), a team from our local friendly canasta league. We're wearing the amazing canary yellow trews, and we've brought along our friend Charles Nelson Reilly (second from right) who was a good friend and Hollywood informant.

Here's Clark with another friend and mole from the entertainment world, Des O'Connor (who knew?), getting the drinks sorted for our 1972 piss-up work bash.

Quality comestibles always get the ladies to come running. 7Up is an obvious choice, as is a bunch of Lil' Smokies on sticks. Here I am seen going for my thirteenth 7Up, while Clark feeds a saucy damsel his wiener.

Sometimes the parties had such a huge guest list we had to hire a different venue as well as immaculately dressed wait-staff to help serve the champagne cocktails, leaving us free to chat up the ladies. In this picture we see Michael asking the wait-staff to kindly refrain from hitting on the girls, while Clark tries out his favourite line on Lady Felicity Farnes-Barnes: "Let's commit the perfect crime - I'll steal your heart, and you steal mine."

Meanwhile, I'm out in the back garden with Laura, Marissa and the stylishly dressed Aunt Mabel (left). Laura did not care much for my pickup line: "If a fat man puts you in a sack tonight, don't worry - I told Santa I wanted you for Christmas!"

Sometimes our parties were themed. Here we are at the "Brass Band Apres Ski Mixer." For some reason, Michael went the extra mile (as usual) and came dressed as the love child of Freddie Mercury and Mark Spitz. Where the congas came from, I'm not sure. Clark was making dreadful jokes about "getting the horn" and "blowing" things, not to mention "putting your lips together" etc. And I'm operating a life sized trumpet-playing ventriloquist dummy over there on the right. Good times, good times.

This was a fairly low-key gathering. Here you see The Unbelievables with Marissa and Laura at our 'punchbowl party'. I think this was the party where we all secretly spiked the punch with various exotic liqueurs, unbeknownst to each other. We didn't wake up till New Year's Day.

Here we are at our "It'll Be All White On The Night" Christmas do. Don't worry, the reindeer is actually a trained operative (whose identity cannot yet be revealed) in extreme deep-cover pun disguise as "The Goat Of Christmas Past" (groan!). Unfortunately, after a few hours in an all-white room wearing all-white clothes pounding down Smirnoff-based cocktails, we were all suffering from snow blindness. Rest assured we didn't make that mistake again. 

The trouble with holiday get-togethers is that there's always a ton of leftovers. Fortunately, Clark's Aunt Madge is a Tupperware lady, and the above picture shows the time she brought her entire stock. Not only did she save the day, but she did an impromptu Tupperware party for all the assembled guests, as well as some exotic magic tricks that I'd only seen once before, in a bar in Singapore. Good times, good times.

Happy Holidays everybody!