(Photo of check for 42 cents)
I usually try to avoid repeating a subject I’ve commented on before.
But this one is so bizarre I have to share it with you.
I first wrote about it back in 2018, and I figured that was the last time something so ludicrous would occur.
But it’s happened again.
Here’s the set up I used back then and this time it works even better.
2018-12-13 Newsletter—“Some Things Shrink as You Get Older”
I dealt with something sad last week. It finally happened as I knew it would sooner or later.
It was inevitable and happens to every actor as he grows older.
What am I talking about? Arthritis? Liver spots? Male pattern baldness?
Nope. I’m referring to the “shrinking residual” syndrome—and it’s finally hit yours truly.
Here’s what I’m talking about:
For those of you not familiar with how actors are paid, each time a show they appeared in is re-run, the actor receives a residual royalty check covering that re-broadcast.
However, as time passes and the number of re-runs mount up, the subsequent payments gradually begin to diminish until…
Well, first let me give you some background.
In the Fall of 1974, Producer Garry Marshall (The Odd Couple, Laverne & Shirley, Pretty Woman Mork and Mindy) hired me to provide some of the voices for the “Oldies” you hear coming from the malt shop jukebox on “Happy Days.”
(“Sh-Boom” was one of my better efforts.)
My initial fee at the time?
It was into four figures.
However, that show has been re-broadcast so many times, that finally the other day a royalty check arrived… in the grand amount of $1.12!
At this rate if I live to be 100, I’ll owe them money.
That was going to be the punch line to this humbling little tale.
So, I finish this piece and am about to send it to my editor when another royalty payment arrives in today’s mail…
Some more background:
I was lucky enough to provide some of the animal voices in Disney’s original classic film Jungle Book.
(For those who are curious, I’m one of the harrumphing elephants and a harmonizing buzzard.)
Obviously, Jungle Book has been re-shown a whole bunch of times, which may make me a hero with my Granddaughter but… well I opened the envelope to discover a new benchmark.
I’m thinking of saving it for a trip to Vegas where I can double it and never have to work again.
Are you with me so far?
Okay, now here’s a punchline to top that one.
(Photo of check for 33 cents)
I was going to mail it to my bank, but the stamp costs $0.63
I flunked math twice at Hollywood High, but even I know that doesn’t make sense.
There used to be a little bar in Burbank called “Residuals” where any actor who walked in with a royalty check for less than $1.00 would get a free drink.
It's no longer there and I’m not much of a drinker anyway.
(The book has a few examples of my intoxicated disasters including the night I almost decapitated someone at a party.)
So next time I’m heading to Trader Joe’s, I’ll drop it off at the bank.
I don’t want to hold the check forever and screw up Disney’s book keeping.
I figure they’ve got enough problems with DeSantis down in Florida.
I’m glad we’re still in touch.
For this semi-isolated social animal it lifts my spirits to share stuff both silly and serious with you.
It's a very long runway, but the book will soon be airborne.
Till next time, take good care of yourself and each other.
bb
P.S. I’m really touched by one reader’s delight at learning I’m still alive.
It seems there are three… count ‘em three Bruce Bellands.
I knew about one of them. He’s a young racecar driver in Wisconsin. His picture once showed up as me on Google—a weird feeling.
But recently a reader out there ran across an obituary for Bruce Belland—then discovered I was still upright and wrote how delighted she was.
Me too.
Evidently Bruce Lynn Belland was a nice man who liked the Minnesota Vikings.
But I’m happy to report he ain’t me… and I ain’t him.
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