Kukla, Fran, Ollie, and Brando

What transpires below is a series of letters between Burr Tillstrom; creative director and producer of the CBS television production "Junior Jamboree", later "The Kukla, Fran & Ollie Show" and famed actor Marlin Brando.



Kukla, Fran Allison & Ollie 1951


The incident has been shrouded in mystery for over sixty years, and was only brought to light recently. The letters were "discovered" in late September when Sotheby's auctioned them for the tidy sum of $1,358,000 (US) as part of a "mystery grab bag" to a Scandinavian software developer Thorson Lemke.


"Yes, you heard me. eleven-hundred cheeseburgers and six plain delivered on rollerskate by a bearded Norwegian professor dressed as a Latino prostitute to insure the contents are not blemished."
Marlin Brando in happier times


December 12, 1954
Dear Mr. Tillstrom,

I am writing to tell you I happened to catch the end of your enchanting television program Kukla, Fran & Ollie. Ollie’s antics brought a mirthful grin to my face and my inexorable belly laughs frightened my calico Señior Paulo who has taken refuse in a package of ‘Frooted Loops’ for several days and will not come out. Needless to say my late night snacks contain far too many hairs.

I think the Colombia Broadcasting System has an exciting new show on their hands and I look forward to the gangs next adventure, especially the one called Ollie. There's a place in this performers heart as big as a Thanksgiving turkeys gravy cavern for that lovable reptilian scamp!

Yours truly,
Marlin Brando


December 19, 1954
Dear Mr. Brando,

Now, I can honestly say all of us here at the studio were nothing less than ecstatic to receive your letter and such acclaim from an actor of your caliber was most gracious.

We are delighted to say that CBS has decided to extend our contract for this coming year and many adventures are in the works for the adorable Kuklapolitans and the lovely Mrs. Fran Allison.

Knowing you are watching lends us to believe we should consider writing for a more sophisticated clientele.

Just let me add we all here at CBS do hope you friend the "Señior” has come out of the cereal box as is doing well.

Your humble servant,
Burr Tillstrom


January 3, 1955
Dear Mr. Tillstrom,

The shows appeals to me like a rainy afternoon anticipating the delivery of egg-fu-young from Chow-Fat’s down on Houston. I would not have you change a thing. All that aside however if you ever do an episode featuring the works of Tennessee Williams I have several moth-eaten t-shirts just anticipating being torn from my chest! ("Stella!!!")

Your portrayal of the Negro folk hero John Henry was most poignant and heartbreaking. Sadly I missed the latter half as the show was interrupted for television coverage Senator Joseph McCarthy’s outing of the very suspicious midget performer Billy Bartley. By-the-way; thank you for the kind words regarding Señior Paulo, you’ll be happy to know he extruded himself from the cereal box as the Senator called out that despicable rabble rouser as a "most subversive Leprechaun."

I know this may be forward of me but I would love to visit the set and say hello to the lovable Kuklapolitans. A visit with Werner von Worm, Buelah Witch, Fletcher, Cecil Bill, Kukla, (with the exception of Madame Ooglepuss. Señior Paulo and I have another name for her and suffice to say it has to do with a daily bodily function) and of course the ever captivating Ollie would be magnificent. I enjoy his appearances greatly. Every moment he is not on the show is a tragic loss.

Mr. Tillstrom I thank you for your time in considering this adoring fans request.

Yours truly,
Marlin Brando

post script:
My personal belief is Ollie should immedialty replace that missinformed Daniel Rather CBS world news roundup whose face looks like a gypsy cursed him with acne.

Ollie has a confidence and élan most actors would cut off and consume their own legs for, and I would imagine a formidible performer on stage. I am astounded by his range, yet you confine him to a small puppet stage. You can not confine a giant to a bowl of soup. I ask you to concider the magnitutde of what is in your presence.


January 6, 1955
Dear Mr. Brando,

We would be nothing less than honored if you bestowed a visit to us at the CBS studios here in New York. Please have your agency call our studios and make the arrangements and please call me Burr.

And we will most certainly lock Madame Ooglepuss in the wardrobe trunk!

Your humble servant,
Burr Tillstrom


January 14, 1955
Dear Burr,

The arrangements are in place and I will be at the studio next Friday late in the day. You may find this a bit brash but I ask a favor of you. Would you ask if Ollie would be available for dinner later that night? I have taken the liberty of reserving a table for two at Delmonico’s. If you have never had the foie gras wrapped in squab eggs it akin to wondering upon a sacred Hindu garden and sitting in a low toilet with an unblemished copy of Esquire.

When Madame Ooglepuss is locked in the trunk please cut off her supply of oxygen, as a personal favor to me, my dear Señior Paulo and the rest of the civilized world.

Ahh, the scent of freshly glued linoleum. You must excuse me, the apartment below me is having a new kitchen installed and the fumes are a delight from septic aroma of New York City and those Polaks.

Yours truly,
Marlin Brando


January 28, 1955
Dear Mr. Brando,

Your visit to our set was shall we say; the topic of conversation for the past few days, and you excitement was nothing less than that of a schoolboy when you kept insisting you speak directly with Ollie before the puppeteer had a chance to operate our simple-minded friend.

However we were quite taken aback when you suddenly came loudly with "take your blasted hand out of his rectum!" and began kicking our associate producer repeatedly in the shins after threatening us with a questionable display of Judo expertise.

I am aware this is possibly all a passionate misunderstanding and I'm more than willing to put it all aside so that I may ask for your help in solving an incident that has left us in quite a quandary:

It appears our Ollie has gone AWOL, and this may or may not have happened coincidentally around the time of your visit but we desperately need to know if you happened to see it in your outing.

Since we have no spare puppets we very much need to know if you have any information on Ollie’s whereabouts.

Desperately,
Burr Tillstrom


February 18, 1955
Dear Mr. Brando,

I am writing to you again to ask if you received my letter. It’s been three weeks and still we have not found Ollie. We have tired to have a replacement manufactured but there apparently is a shortage of what we term “googly eyes” due to the war effort.

At this time we are resorting to stock footage of Ollie after CBS's own Dr. Marlin Perkins loaned us a real snake and there was a near fatal incident involving Mrs. Allison who fortunately carries a sinister looking bowie knife with studded knuckle grip and the resourceful woman knew exactly what to do in the situation. Several in our production staff fainted at the sight of blood, Mrs. Allison had no kinds words for them I assure you. The blue streak that came from her handsome mouth attested to her reluctance to speak of her days with the Naval Commandos.

Frankly Mr. Brando, we in quite a pickle, CBS has threatened to “Heave a blow from a mighty axe” if we do not find Ollie and we are simply at a loss as to where (or who) our scaly mascot has run off to (or with as the case may be.)

Signed,
Burr Tillstrom


March 20, 1955
Burr,

This will be my final letter to you. This is never an easy thing to say but your treatment of Ollie filled me with a rage that no actor could attain even if they had consumed a live cow (I know this for a fact.)

There is no excuse for your mishandling of Ollie and if the state of New York had an agency to prevent cruelty to puppets I would stop acting altogether and devote my life to throttling people like you and your cronies for your blatant disregard for such a noble creature.

You may take comfort to know Ollie is with me. Ollie is happy, safe and well fed now. Ollie and I have decided to leave the States. Señior Paulo and I had a falling out after I caught him writing fan mail to Frankie Avalon.

We shall find somewhere secluded, perhaps an Island that has a waterfall that pours countless shrimp into a lake of cocktail sauce. We will wade in depths of this slushy lake, sipping from it's spicy viscosity.

Please do not contact me further, I have made up my mind and Ollie has agreed with me. Please do not try and follow us or I shall be forced to take up drastic measure. We are going where you can not (and where marrying a puppet is recognized or at least toned down to a low gossip among the locals.)

adeu.

Signed,
M. B.

-J3K

Mitch Mitchell and The JHE/ELP Connection

Mitch Mitchell c. 19 humma humma

No, not the Mitch Mitchell from Mitch Mitchell's Terrifying Experience who had a mustache in sixth grade and went bald in seventh according to Guided by Voices front-man Robert Pollard but Mitch Mitchell the drummer for The Jimi Hendrix Experience(JHE), Jeff (The Greater Satan) Beck,

former Pakistani military leader, president and jack booted thug Sally Struthers, and bongo consultant for the Lou Rawls Honkey-Ass Cracka' Devil sessions.

Jeff Beck: The Benefit Concert for Jeff Beck's Pompous Ego.

Mitchell was the last surviving member of the Jimi Hendrix Experience: James Marshall Hendrix (d.1970) Noel Redding (d. 2003) and Mitch Mitchell (d. last week)

It pains me to think Mitchell might go down being remembered as the guy who almost played for Emmerson, Lake & Palmer (ELP) but then they would be MEL and though there were plans for a sitcom where Greg Lake played robotic superintendent with that name who that dispenses industrial solvents to directly McKenzie Phillips central nervous system (her real name is McFonzie Pollips) the deal fell through for a number of reasons according to an "internet that I found" or "assumed" by me.

Still there are all sorts of rumors about the JHE and ELP forming as one band, discussions and meetings both real and really silly have been reported; like Mitchell arranging a 2AM show up at Kieth Emmerson's flat with two gorilla bodyguards and pulling up in a limo with a white fur coat and scaring Keith half to death (Emmerson hid in his moog for days and could only be coaxed out when Robert Fripp showed up with some especially smelly Stilton that had been craftfully aged in Sebestian Cabbot's stocking feet. As far as I know it's true, ‘cus I read that before my internet.


Keith Emmersons Moog
(Note: Emmerson had been stung by a bee, which explains the size of that hand)

The reality in that in closing time of Hendrix being on this plane of existence and constantly weirdifying the name of the band (A Band of Gypsies, Electric Church, Gypsy Sun & Rainbows, Sky Church Rainbow Electric Gypsy Purple Buffalo Freakout, and the worrisome sounding Nordick Penatraytor) Mitchell never worked bands of great success after Jimi's death.

Mitchell was also the dude who failed the audition for Paul MaCarney and Wings (and they got Joey Q. Fangs or something, crap if I know!). I have to admit after I found this out I felt like MaCarney was a bit of a dick for not hiring Mitch, but just because I like a persons music or art does not mean I automatically have to like them (except for Hendrix and Christopher Walken.)


(Photo by Linda Eastman)

My theory is this: Linda McCartney had been working with the newly developed Timex Synclavier keyboard at the time (this is known, at least now it is) and in her "noodling" struck the elusive and sphincter crippling brown note during one of Mitchell's signature snare fills. Unable to contain the Haggis Vindaloo he had pureed for breakfast the remains drum stool had to be burned beside a 12th century cathedral in Hicksville, NY and the ashes were mixed with Audrey Hepburns dung and thrown at the French.

I don’t know what Mitchell did after he failed to impress Paul and Linda but like anyone who had previously worked for Michael Jefferies (Hendrix's agent, and combination Con/Hit man), he was completely financially screwed by Michael Jefferies with no recourse other than to keep his mouth shut or someone would break everyone’s legs at Jefferies insistance.

I always thought Mitchell deserved much more credit as a drummer than he got, he was the Alex Lifeson of the band, Hendrix being both a hipper Neil Pert and a funky, smoother then fellow Afro brandishing (and later mullet welding) Geddy Lee (Hendrix could pass as Sephardic)


Gary Liebowitz: Permanent Mullet

and Redding was... Ok, I have to be honest, why did they pick Noel Redding, where did they find him for that matter? Redding showed up to play lead guitar for the Animals and they handed him a Gibson EB4 bass.

How many bass tracks did Hendrix overwrite after Noel left the studio? By the time Electric Ladyland (an album name parodied more than once a week, my all-time favorite:" Electric Landlady") came out Redding was not even showing up to borrow a cup of rolling papers. Redding was hardly a member of the band, his contributions sound incredibly dated buried behind Hendrix and Mitchells intergalactic musical ventures.

Though it's easy to blame Hendrix's James Brown/M.C. Hammer regiment of exercise for discipline and strictness (e.g. Bong hits and sleeping until 3 PM) for he was just someone in the band who Hendrix could not wait to replace with Billy Cox anyway.

Mitchell was a monster drummer, in many ways and equal to Hendrix’s supernatural abilities on what has been called the "Hillbilly Blow Jug", but he just kept getting overlooked and it must have been frustrating. Mitchell was known for his temper, and the story goes when Hendrix and Eddie Kramer bounced his drums into a single track Mitchell began to throw amps and P.A.’s around the room with what Hendrix described as “Hey man, he was like a very heavily super freaked out super-chimp with like Aquadog strength.”

Kramer and Hendrix unable to calm the enraged Mitchel and at some point had climbed a frightened Noel Redding's afro and started bang on his head with a pair of Pastie Rude-Boy 32” gongs. "Irish borrowed" from Jimmie Osmond (see below). Mitchell could only be coaxed down with the tangy fruit cocktail that Eddie Kramer will always be remembered for (that and engineering Hendrix, Zeppelin, The Faces, etc.), but Noel's Afro was so badly dented it may have been the deciding factor his split from the JHE.

This guy in front of Electric Lady Studios once told me (I don't know if he worked there, he was in the doorway, he smelled like pee and I think he was in the band Sponge for a while) "The Afro’s were the band!", and Hendrix, Mitchell, Redding and Kramer would not be photographed or loofa-ed without them."
He then mentioned something about tin-foil, the masonic order of the New York Cosmos and the sinister origins of Highlights magazine and how it dominates all other publications in dental offices.


Goofus and Gallant courtesy of Highlights LLC

It was said at the meeting with Keith Emmerson that Jimi’s finger light ala E.T., he touched Keith and the keyboardist suddenly had four Afros, and like the hydra of Greek myth every time Emerson would cut one off it would be replaced with the head of Fran Tarkenton.

"Real People's" Fran Tarkenton after haircut.

Jimi stole a mess of stuff (he was after all part Irish, therefore he was a Leprechaun.)
He stole Orange amps from Pink Floyd, He stole a car when he was a teen and ended up in the 101 Airborne in leu of jail and at the height of the "Jimi Hendrix Experience" he stole a cotton candy machine from the Grateful Dead during a 302 minute Pig Pen (Why do I always bring up Pig Pen?) bass only cover of the Merle Haggard classic "Momma ate paint chips."

Leprechaun displaying a leathal show of Amish Karate which kills 1000's of tourits each day.



The Experience used this device to create instant multi-color Afro's for the '69 European tour until that fateful day (Thank you Senior Wences!) The event became known as "The day when the Afros afroed less then previously."
"Ah, not necessarily Afroed, but... ?"

Well, this is what I discovered, in part research, interviews sitting to close to the microwave and brushing my teeth with Lysergic acid diethylamide

Quaker Oats: A delicious source of LSD

My point is this: Mitchell was the last surviving member of the original lineup. Billy Cox is still around as far as I know, every other week I hear Buddy Miles is dead or fat, or both. So I've been listening to those early albums, and I used to hear something new each time coming from Jimi's guitar, but now I hear Mitchell just as clearly, (The last Experience recording was over 38 years ago.) the music is still as beautiful, still bittersweet, it’s easily approachable and a sacred as a holy place where shoes, and smelly, smelly hippiesare forbidden, and he was part of it. He was the last remaining connection to the Jimi Hendrix Experience I had in this world, so yea, I’m very sad about it, I honestly am.


Hippy 'hopped up' on Goof-Balls.
Used by permission from the DEA

Mitch Mitchell: Honkey, Afro wearer, sincerely f---king amazing drummer.

"Now dig the drummer." -James Marshall Hendrix


Mitchell: Irishing Jimi's Hat.

J3K

Jimmy 3000 comes clean. (and boy does it feel swell!)

Q: Who did you vote for in 1988
A: I didn't vote for anyone. I voted against Bush sr.

Q: and in 1992 and 1996
A: The fat version of Hippa. The guy who got special sauce on the intern. Name escapes me.

Q: Are you a Republican?
A: Yea... but not when I vote.

Q: Not when you vote! What about the eight years of G.W.B?
A: I voted for the head in a jar from Futurama, but he is funnier in his cartoon form, he should have had his head cut and put in the jar, and the Supreme Court would have HAD to vote him in. Then I voted for Fred Gwynn and the guy who had sex with North Carolina. I wanted to like GWB after 9/11. I was behind him, only I did not realize he had pulled my pants off and never offered a reach around. The whole trip wrote itself out like a drunken fratboy at a party that stumbles in a room with a girl passed out on the bed and he sees it as an oppertunity. If I was a Republican then 2001 - 2008 just ruined it for me and it shames me to think the party of Lincoln and T.R. has become that drunken fratboy who thinks copping a feel on a passed out freshman is as cool like Dave Matthews breaking into a 72 minute version of Richie Havens "Freedom" from the 1969 Woodstock Festival.

Q: John McCain
A: Viva El Presedente'. My Homie, mah strobie: B'Rock.