Ken had his day in the sun
Barbie. Of whom — or what — you may have heard. The innest. Thinnest. Non-sinnest.
Historians call Benjamin Franklin America’s first columnist. Wrong. I started before Ben flew his first kite.
So I went back over all my columns to see my years-old Barbie items.
I didn’t care about Ken. My memories are I had better than Ken in high school.
Barbie collectors now wearing Depends may remember 1998. David Duchovny looking like a doll.
However, playing Ken seemed out of his ken. He hated the finished Ken doll. Hair too full. Not looking rugged enough. He threatened a lawsuit.
Mattel quick schlepped Ken off toy shelves. Overhauled him. New molded hair became tighter — Ken’s hair, not David’s. Still plastic, but a new manlier “X-Files”-type Ken who became a collector’s item.
In 1994, I reported designer Randy Kemper’s: “My collection is Barbie goes to the White House. White gloves, white patent heels, ’70s femininity with ’90s bitchiness.”
1996. More type dolls. The Don Imus one? Wind it up and you’re sorry.
The Howard Stern? Wind it up and it puts Don Imus down.
Start the Michael Jackson doll and the thing changes its nose.
O.J.? Take it out of the box and it lies.
The politically incorrect one ignores Barbie but takes Ken to the movies.
1997, I reported, “Mattel toyed with a maybe Susan Lucci/Erica Kane doll.” I did not mention Horsman Doll Co. already had a Cindy doll. Dark hair. Fake lashes. An exact replica of Me.
I also am not mentioning that if you call me now I could sell you a few unsold Cindy dolls at very reasonable prices.
I hear a new Ken doll’s coming. Wind him up he’ll schlep you to the “Barbie” movie.
Sid’s big break
Sid Rosenberg’s “Sid & Friends in the Morning” is on WABC radio daily Monday to Friday from 6 to 10 a.m.
He says he’s shy. SHY? As I write this it’s Sunday 11:30 p.m., and he’s still talking.
Comes now his big-screen debut. “Inside Man.” Indie thriller.
His character’s a Brooklyn bartender frequented by Gambinos. Like, naturally. What else? He’d play maybe a harpist?
Sid: “Acting in LA, with big actors, is nervous-making. But I’m OK at memorizing. I can remember who won the last 60 World Series.” Good. Great. Unfortunately that doesn’t come up a lot in conversation.
Dinner must go on
Mamaroneck. Red Plum. Crowded restaurant. Suddenly, big-time excitement.
In one booth a woman diner collapses. In her chair. Out. Completely OUT!
She ends up lying on her side. Someone called someone somehow because quickly in rush paramedics and police. They work on her.
It’s dinnertime. While this drama’s unfolding, it’s business as usual. Crowded. Nobody excited. The restaurant continued serving.
The waiter at my friends’ adjacent — back-to-back booth — continued pouring martinis. He even asked did anyone need more ice.
Now that’s a dog
Humorist Morty Storm: “My dog’s named ‘Sex.’ When I wanted a license for Sex, the City Hall clerk said, ‘Yeah, me, too.’ I said, ‘You don’t understand. I’ve had Sex since I was 9.’ Clerk: ‘You must’ve been quite a kid!’ ”
One more letter. From “Harriet”: “Thanks for sticking up for our city in your column recently. It’s time. It’s overdue. Enough is enough!!!!”
And thanks to all for sticking to only in New York, kids, only in New York.
