Showing posts with label pop culture nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pop culture nostalgia. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

The mystery of an actor in both "Superman" [1978] and "Batman" [1989]

Superman.

Batman.

Mystery Man.

In Superman: The Movie [1978], a thief uses suction cups to climb a high-rise in search of another score, but is cheekily intercepted by Superman.


In Batman [1989], Dr. Thomas Wayne leads his wife Martha and young son Bruce on a shortcut through a city alley where a tragedy ensues.


That criminal and that victim have something in common. 

Both small but memorable roles were played by David Baxt—one of only two actors to appear in both of those pioneering DC Comics superhero films. [The other was George Lane Cooper, who died in 2002.]


I discovered this only recently, which is why it’s taken this Superman/Batman nostalgist this long to try to find and interview David.

The same day I began my search, I learned that I am the first known writer to try to find David, but not the first person

Alas, this story—at the moment—does not have a happy ending.

On IMDb, David’s first credit was in 1976, and his last in 2000. Long ago enough to all but confirm that he no longer has an agent. 

Another culturally significant film featuring David is The Shining [1980], in which he played the forest ranger who offers a lifeline of sorts to Shelley Duvall’s character over a CB radio as a winter storm rages. 


He also did stage work.

He is described as Canadian-British, which had me looking for him in Ottawa and London, but quick searches in directories either yielded nothing or would cost something. 

Over the years, when on the trail of other “lost” performers of the pre-internet era, I have stumbled upon a snippet of info in a throwaway comment on Reddit or some other forum. These rare clues, often casually posted by former classmates, can be the tipping point in finding someone.

I found no such nuggets on David.

So I turned to one of the most invaluable sources in such instances: obituaries. Names are gold. Unusual names like “Baxt” are gold-coated diamonds. [“Baxter” would have been a nightmare.]

I found obituaries for multiple family members, but none yielded easily searchable names—or they had names of others who were also dead.

Finally I came across David’s half-brother Joshua, who lives in California. I messaged him. He responded quickly—and chillingly:

“Unfortunately David self-disappeared around 20 years ago. We have not heard from him since. If he’s alive, he’s off the grid somewhere. I wish I had more for you.”

Oh, but he did. Because he kindly added “Feel free to call if you want more details.”

I did, immediately. I also Zoomed with David’s sister Susan. With their permission, I’ll share what I learned.

David was born in New Jersey on July 21, 1947. His sister Susan is four years older, Josh 14 years younger. David was not close with either sibling. He and Josh share a biological father but didn’t grow up together. Though they got along fine, they “weren’t brothers in any real sense.”

When David was three-and-a-half, the family moved to Montreal. He may have had an undiagnosed learning disability. Reading could be a struggle, but he was smart.

He was offered a scholarship to study opera at McGill…odd for someone who had no interest in opera. Susan didn’t know how it came about. David turned it down in favor of the School of Dramatic Arts in Montreal. He would busk to help pay for his education, along with a friend. [See addendum below.]

After finishing the program, David relocated to London which had a richer theater tradition; he also did movies and TV to help pay bills. He had a good agent. He had a circle of friends.

Josh and their family visited him when Superman was filming in New York. Though David’s part was small—apparently he had a line, but it did not make the final cut—they’d put him up in a big suite at the Waldorf Astoria. Josh recalled that they were shooting his scene at 2 a.m. [Time-and-a-half was involved.] Their dad was proud of David’s work.

Those 85 seconds of screen time earned David enough to live on for a year.

That unused line, as far as Josh remembered: “I wasn’t doin’ nothing.”

[Alas, Josh doesn’t think they took photos on set.]

“David was smart, kind and funny, though not in a joking way,” Josh said. “He tended towards wry observations. I stayed with him in London a couple of times, and he always took good care of me.”

David had asthma, which worsened over time and impacted his acting career. Around 1997, David came to California and stayed with his dad and stepmom, but their cat triggered an allergic reaction that sent David to the hospital. He recovered…but that was the last time Josh saw him.

Josh and David had been exchanging letters when their father died in 2002, but that eventually stopped. 

David and his father, 1992

There was no falling out. There was no explanation. There was no trace.

David’s mother passed away several years later. Susan tried to reach David, to no avail. Because they had inheritance matters to address, they hired a private investigator. The PI found that David had sold his London apartment sometime around 2006 and left no forwarding address. But the PI didn’t find David.

At the time, however, it was determined that David was still receiving residual checks…somewhere.

As of the family’s last contact with David, he dated women but had not married nor had kids. He has never met Josh’s kids, who are now adults.

David liked the sun and, due to his asthma [and bronchitis], benefitted from certain climates, so Josh imagines he may have settled in a small village along the Mediterranean. 

Josh presumes that David would hate the digital society we live in now. Even in the analog era, David was a Luddite who got an answering machine because he didn’t want to miss calls about auditions, but was resentful of “the stupid thing.”

As I mentioned, I’m the first writer to reach Josh or Susan about David, but every few years, Josh hears from a friend of David’s. A quarter century on, his inner circle is still holding out hope.

Susan doesn’t feel that Josh committed suicide. Though not counting on it, Josh doesn’t rule out David showing up again one of these days.

Which is one of the two reasons I’m posting this. Someone may see it and come forward with info—maybe a tipping point nugget that will solve the mystery.

This has happened with my work before [see here, here].

The other reason I’m posting this sad story is, of course, that it’s also a good story about a good man. 

1/11/26 addendum: Mere weeks after posting this, I heard from the friend with whom David busked in the early 1970s. What are the chances?

Her name is Rosa, and she and David were a couple for a while. I am astounded
—and gratefulthat she happened to stumble upon this post so soon after it went up and took the time to reach out.

She remembers that David was raised by his mother and older sister; that suggests that his father was out of the picture as he grew up, but as noted above, the two reconnected when David was an adult.

Members of David’s family were victims of the Holocaust. Some of them showed Rosa the numbers tattooed on their arms.

Rosa saw David shortly before he sold his London apartment and clearly remembers that he said he was going to disappear without a trace. I asked why he would announce that, and Rosa said it might relate to his complicated childhood.

When I asked Rosa if she thinks David is still alive, she said yes. He took care of his health. He planned to live in a dry place like Arizona.

She sent a photo of David, another of the young buskers, and an article about them from a 1971 Montreal newspaper:




If you know anything about David Baxt, please reach out. 

5/28/26 addendum: The family recently learned that David died from pancreatic cancer in London on 11/16/23. Someone used this post to update his IMDb page, which led to one of his old friends contacting them. She had been communicating with him for many years while his whereabouts and situation were unknown to the family.

We thank you for getting the word out. I honestly didn’t think it would make a difference, but you were absolutely right.

Saturday, December 13, 2025

The Scooby-Doo haunted mansion is real [and really haunted]

Despite having been a Scooby-Doo fan since I could not yet spell "Scooby" or even "Doo," it was only this year when I learned that the gothic house in the opening shot of the opening credits of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? [1969] is based on an actual place: Seaview Terrace in Newport, RI. 


[It appears that the Scooby-Doo design team was inspired by the house's appearance in the opening credits of an earlier creepy show, Dark Shadows.]

Seaview Terrace [AKA Carey Mansion] is privately owned and not open to the public. It's also allegedly [and appropriately] one of the most haunted sites in America. They've filmed at least one ghost hunting show there.

After I was booked to speak in Rhode Island, I reached out to the real estate company that manages the property to ask if I could come on to the grounds for a mere two minutes to take photos from the same angle.

Unsurprisingly, they said no.

So I found my way to the owner of the property, who did not reply to my first several emails...then in October, she kindly said she would like to honor my request.

But just before my trip last week, she reneged. It's a busy time. I understand. And I'll try again on my next trip to the area. 

In the meantime, I got the best shot I could from the streetLucky for me it is almost winter. In spring or summer, the house is probably mostly obscured by foliage.

I took this photo in 28°, wedged between shrubs, and hoisted at an awkward angle with one foot on a chain-link fence and the other on a low, broken branch. 


For that level of commitment, I think I deserve a Scooby Snack.

Monday, October 20, 2025

Posing with pop culture interview subjects

I've had the thrill of finding and then the privilege of interviewing so many entertainers who meant something to me as a kid...people whose names were not always known but whose work is fondly remembered, and not just by me.

I've had the further thrill of meeting some of them in person. The following photos have already been published on this blog, but it struck me that it'd be fun to compile them in one post.

memorable pimp in Superman: The Movie
2011, New York

Louise Rodricks [Liberty Williams] and Michael Bell
Wonder Twins on Super Friends
2011, Los Angeles
Captain Marvel on Legends of the Superheroes
2011, Los Angeles

singer/songwriter of "Magic" from Ghostbusters
2011, Los Angeles

Janet Cross
video for "If This Is It" by Huey Lewis and the News
2013, New York
2014, New York
video for "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger
2014, Los Angeles

video for "I Can't Hold Back" by Survivor
2018, Illinois
video for "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer
2023, London

video for "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer
2023, London


Monday, August 4, 2025

Statues, pop cultural and historical

I've been keeping a running list of historic and pop culture sites worldwide I've had the privilege to visit.

Here's a companion list—select statues, both pop cultural and historical, that I've made a point to see. Pop culture:

Robin Hood, Nottingham, UK 1993


Little Mermaid, Copenhagen, Denmark 1993

Eleanor RIgby [Beatles], Liverpool, UK 1993

Fonzie ["Bronze Fonz"], Milwaukee, WI 2011

Bremen Town Musicians, Bremen, Germany 2022

Rod Serling [The Twilight Zone], Binghamton, NY 2025

Superman [the day it was unveiled], Cleveland, OH 2025

Superman creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, 
with Jerry's wife Joanne, the inspiration for Lois Lane 
[the day they were unveiled], Cleveland, OH 2025

other historical statues:

Little Rock Nine, Little Rock, AR 2015

Alexander Hamilton, Weehawken, NJ 2017

Friday, February 21, 2025

"The New Yorker" at 100 [plus: "Saturday Night Live" at 50, "Survivor" at 25]

One hundred years ago today, my life changed...

That’s the day the first issue of The New Yorker came out. 


I wasn’t there, of course.

But when I eventually did come around, the magazine became a consistent influence on me.

It first made my acquaintance in my dentist’s waiting room when I was 15. Already a hardcore comic book and comic strip guy, I was immediately smitten by the single-panel gag cartoons. I couldn’t get enough of them. 

I liked the covers, too—alternately wistful, whimsical, or arresting. Almost always transporting. I even got a hefty coffee table book compilation of every cover from 1925 to 1989 and pored over it.


I couldn’t care less about the articles.

While other boys my age hung posters of metal bands and girls in swimsuits, I decorated my room with covers of a magazine that was already a senior citizen. 


I continued this into college, at one pointing even taping some on my ceiling; you can catch a glimpse here:


Also in college, I wrote a paper about the journalism and writing style of The New Yorker and drew what I thought were New Yorker-style gags for my college humor mag. 


[referencing the then-fairly-fresh-in-mind 
1988 movie The Last Temptation of Christ]


I also submitted some of those cartoons to the legendarily competitive New Yorker and was excited to get rejected. Okay, “excited” is the wrong word. Its just that rejection is closer to acceptance than never trying.


For several years after college, I managed to hold on to the student subscription rate—only $20 a year for a weekly magazine! 

I finally noticed the articles in between the cartoons, and read some. 

I also attended an event where I got to meet some of the cartoonists and get a book signed. I told Bob Mankoff that my name was “Marc with a ‘c’,” and his response did not miss a b(eat). 


In 1998, it was time: I began regularly submitting batches of ten cartoons to the magazine. My strategy: create 100 before sending round 1 so when the inevitable rejection came, I would have enough “inventory” so as not to be deterred. I made copies at Kinko’s and included a SASE. So 20th century.

By 2001, I got to the point where I was invited to come to “Look Day”—the morning once a week [at the time, it was always a Tuesday] when select cartoonists showed their ideas to the cartoon editor at the New Yorker office in person, then went out to lunch as a group to commiserate about all the brilliant ones he passed on. Once in July 2001, then over a four-month period starting in February 2002, I met with Mankoff, then the cartoon editor, 12 intimidating times. 

I never sold one, but did get a coveted rejection folder on site. I still kick myself that I never took a photo of it, or of any of the lunch gatherings. [This was all pre-iPhone.]

Those lunches included maybe a couple of others in the 20s-to-40s range and a preponderance of alter kakers who welcomed a wannabe who had not published even a single cartoon in the mag.

I did sell to scores of other publications, so all was not for naught. 

I haven’t hung covers in years but I still subscribe to the print edition to save the ones I like.

One day, I’ll submit cartoons again.

And when I do, I will definitely take a photo of my rejection folder.

This same week The New Yorker was toasting its centennial, another Manhattan humor institution was celebrating its 50th: Saturday Night Live. It, too, has had a significant influence on me going back to high school. 

Twice for BBYO [Jewish teen youth group] talent shows, my friends and I did our own version of “Weekend Update.” 


Around the same time, one of those friends and I attended a comedy show of Dana Carvey, Dennis Miller, and Jon Lovitz—and we brought our own material in case they asked for audience volunteers to come on stage and do a short routine. [Uh, they didn’t.]

All these years later, I still haven’t hosted SNL or sold a cartoon to TNY. I wasn’t even invited to attend the SNL 50th anniversary special. But being a lifelong fan is its own reward.

P.S. Survivor, which turns 25 this year, has also inspired me. Ditto for Peanuts, which turns 75.

Tuesday, November 12, 2024

“Got My Mind Set on You” [1987]: a “Girl in the Video” update

How could something Beatles-related be completely—truly completely—undocumented? 

Welcome to the madcap step-by-step on how I finally found a person who appeared in one music video more than 30 years ago and has virtually no digital footprint.


Got my mind set on you indeed!

In 2013 and 2014, I ran a series called “Girl in the Video” for which I tracked down and interviewed 50 women who appeared in 42 iconic music videos of the 1980s and early 1990s. 

Some were deep in the shadows. Most had not been interviewed about this before. Some of their stories were amusing. Others were moving. 

Though I was thrilled with the people I found and the number who participated, some declined—or eluded me.

TEN YEARS LATER…

10/7/24

I received a message on Facebook from a person who determined possible identifications for the lead woman of two videos: “Should’ve Known Better” by Richard Marx and “Shake Me” by Cinderella. [I am aware that you can’t accurately call that song or video iconic; it’s just one I remembered, and I am steering this Starship.]

He did this by using a facial recognition site called PimEyes. Like plenty online, it can be used for purposes both legitimate [like research for a writing project] and unscrupulous.

The Marx woman did not check out and I’m still waiting to hear back from the Cinderella one. [12/17/25 addendum: I neglected to note earlier that I did confirm her name and found a way to reach her.]

This launched a related mission that would play out over five days.

I used the site to check some of the other women on my “where can I find a woman like that” list.

Only one ended in success—up to a point. 

George Harrison released two videos for “Got My Mind Set on You” [1987], his third and last #1 hit and his last song to crack the top 10 in the U.S. The one that got more airplay on MTV features George playing guitar in a room where inanimate objects moved along with the song. The other video is a girl meets boy scene that takes place in an arcade. 


It was the lead girl in the arcade video whom I’d tried to find in 2013. 



I thought my best lead would be the boy from that video, actor Alexis Denisof [Buffy the Vampire Slayer]. He kindly replied to me on Twitter. Unfortunately, he did not remember her name, which I can understand given the short shoot and time passed. 

Upon plugging a screenshot of the girl’s face into PimEyes, I was directed to a 2022 message board thread about her.

In that thread, a woman posted that she attended the same UK school as the video star, and remembered her name was Sarah. She also remembered that Sarah won a 1986 model contest for a British magazine called Just Seventeen—and she bought a copy of that issue so she could come back and report her last name: REDACTED.

In the UK, many people have the name Sarah REDACTED.

Still, I searched that name with the artist and song title. No luck.

I searched that name with the magazine name and found nothing.

That thread seems to be the only page on the entire internet linking that girl to that video and to that model contest. [5/18/26 addendum: Now, somehow, her full name appears on the IMDb page for the video.]

On Facebook and Instagram, I did not see someone with that name whom I thought resembled the girl in the video, plus she may have a married/different name now.

I went through an online cover gallery of the magazine. It was a weekly, which initially made me think this was going to be time-consuming, but I soon found a November 1986 issue with Sarah on the cover, announcing her as the winner.



I asked several sources if they could email scans of the article [and masthead], hoping it mentioned details that could focus the search, i.e. city she’s from, name of her parents, etc.

Both a kind eBay seller and a UK university archive did. The eBayer refused my offer to pay him. The university collection is cleverly called Femorabilia.

Alas—and surprisingly—the article had no details about her.





I began tracking down people who worked for Just Seventeen magazine at that time, using both the Facebook page for it and searching for names from the masthead.

It was hard to reach most of them. I’m not connected to any of them on social media and messages sent to strangers on Facebook and Instagram go into “hidden” inboxes that many people don’t know about and therefore never check.

When names were uncommon, I tried to find emails, and occasionally did.

The few who replied did not know anything about Sarah.

10/8/24 

The November issue of Just Seventeen indicated that the contest had been announced in an April issue, so I revisited the cover gallery, found the issue, and again requested scans of it. Obviously Sarah wouldn’t be mentioned in the announcement of a contest she had not yet entered, but perhaps it would include other names I could contact.



It didn’t.

10/9/24

It sunk in that the April and November issues said that readers voted on the models. Therefore, there would be an issue between April and November that lists all the entrants/finalists...and maybe more.

Luckily, revisiting the cover gallery yet again yielded pay dirt because a July cover not only said “You pick the winner” but also showed all 10 finalists.


I requested scans of that interior where, finally, I learned another piece of valuable info: the city Sarah was from. [Also her age in 1986: 15.]



However, that was not instantly helpful because, as I said above, her name is common.

After a fruitless search of name + city, I went back to the message board. I knew it was a long shot that the former classmate who posted there about Sarah two years earlier would see let alone reply to a new post, but I asked anyway: what school?

Incredulously—within minutes—she responded with the name.

I asked this person to email me so I would not clog up the message board with my additional questions.

In the meantime, I learned that the school closed years ago. I went back to Facebook to ask groups connected to the school if anyone knows Sarah or knows anyone who might.

You can’t post to certain groups unless you’re a member, and sometimes such groups don’t accept you if you don’t have a direct connection. Sure enough, one of them declined my request.

I searched for articles about the school with the hope that I’d find alum names for whom I could then find contact info.

I tried to find emails for the admins of those Facebook groups, the only members whose names I, a non-member, could see.

I contacted a newspaper archive in Sarah’s hometown, figuring a local model contest winner would have gotten some press and hoping someone would be willing to check, well, most of 1986…obviously a big ask.

10/10/24

The archive suggested posting to a Facebook group for her hometown, which has many more members than the school groups. Also, the archive could research for me for £35 per hour.

While waiting to see if the hometown group would accept me [which it did, after about six hours], I tried another Hail Mary—looking for any of the nine model contest finalists.

I knew they’d all met because they posed for a photo together, but assumed they didn’t learn much about each other that day—or if they did, likely wouldn’t remember it nearly forty years later.

Most of their names were also common. Of the nine, I did a quick search for six. I found that one had spent three years in isolation in Tibet and adopted a Buddhist name:

Rebecca Tisbury, 23, hugs a friend goodbye as she prepares to embark on 3 years of isolation at the Samye Ling Tibetan retreat, November 7. Rebecca, formerly a top fashion model, will emerge from the retreat in February 1997

I found record of another of the finalists, but didn’t pay to access contact info.

I found a third on Facebook and was surprised that she responded quickly [given that my message had gone into that aforementioned hidden inbox]. She did not know about Sarah but kindly said she’d ask around. I thought she meant the “former models” community. 

Minutes later, she sent a link to a Facebook profile I’d seen the day before but had quickly moved on from because that Sarah REDACTED [who was wearing sunglasses] did not immediately seem to resemble 1986 Sarah. But that was before I knew that Sarah was from the city of REDACTED…and this profile says this Sarah is from SAME REDACTED.

I messaged this Sarah, but instead of waiting weeks or more for her to stumble upon it [her last post visible to me was from 2014], I found emails for some of her Facebook friends and emailed them, hoping someone could connect us or pass along my request.

10/11/24 

Under my post on the Facebook page for her hometown, two kindly wrote that they know Sarah and will notify her. A person I emailed said the same.

Then weeks of silence.

11/4/24 

One of those go-betweens told me she was glad to reconnect with Sarah after at least a decade but also reported what already seemed clear: Sarah does not want to be interviewed.

Hugely disappointing.

But also exhilarating to solve at least part of a mystery that lasted five days, and before that 10 years, and before that 26 years. 

Appropriately, it was there all along in the lyrics to “Got My Mind Set on You”:

It’s gonna take time
Whole lot of precious time
It’s gonna take patience and time

Hopefully one day soon Sarah will feel comfortable sharing her memories of that experience.