The Dayton Daily News February 17, 1995, FRIDAY, CITY EDITION SECTION: LIFESTYLE, Pg. 1C HEADLINE: TV CREED: I WATCH 'THE BRADY BUNCH,' THEREFORE, I AM BYLINE: Andy Edelstein; NEWSDAY BODY: On March 8, 1974, a sitcom that had rated no higher than 20th place during its five-year run aired its final original episode. Few Americans over the age of 16 noticed or cared: After all, this was a program the critics savaged and the mainstream press largely ignored. Newspaper TV columns carried neither eulogies nor appeals to save it from cancellation. There was no tear-stained final episode. And why not? That show, The Brady Bunch - about a widow with three girls who marries a widower with three boys - would presumably be consigned to reruns or more likely to TV heaven. Life would go on. If anyone had the vision to predict the show's fate in the next 20 years, come forth now and give us a hint on the price of IBM. For rather than disappearing, The Brady Bunch became a touchstone for a generation, a show that has elbowed its way into the pantheon of cult TV shows along with Star Trek, The Honeymooners and The Twilight Zone.The original program spawned a 1973 Saturday-morning cartoon show, a 1977-78 variety hour, a 1981 spinoff (The Brady Brides, which was spun off from the TV movie, The Brady Girls Get Married), a 1988 TV movie (A Very Brady Christmas) and a 1990 drama series. There's been a bull market in Brady collectibles (books, lunch boxes, etc.), a Rhino CD featuring the cast chirping its syrupy rock songs, and several books (ranging from Barry Williams' best-selling tell-all to Ann B. Davis' cookbook). And now, the big screen beckons. lBradyCONTINUED FROM/1C The Brady Bunch Movie's nominal plot may be the notion that the Bradys are still stuck in the '70s, although it's 1995, but the movie that opens Friday is essentially an 85-minute in-joke whose subplots are cobbled together from episodes of the original show. TV actors Shelley Long (Cheers) and Gary Cole (Midnight Caller) segue effortlessly into the clothes, hairstyles and personalities of parents Mike and Carol Brady. The six kids and Alice the maid also bear uncanny resemblances to the originals. Brady aficionados, who have transformed the sitcom into a pop-culture phenomenon, will snicker knowingly throughout the film. Those clueless folks over 40 may be wondering how this happened. Why The Brady Bunch and not Nanny and the Professor or The Courtship of Eddie's Father? Brady Bunch creator Sherwood Schwartz, a former Bob Hope gagwriter who also created Gilligan's Island, has said his show's appeal is due to ''The stories ... human family stories. I don't care what the generation is, it's the same: the problems of communicating, of honesty, of being the middle child, of little things like wearing braces or wearing glasses.'' There's got to be more here, of course. Here are four more reasons for the show's enduring appeal: *Good timing and the economics of the TV business. The darn show has never left the air. Each of the 117 episodes has been shown over and over daily for the last two decades. The explosion of cable oulets created a hunger for programming, and the show's wholesomeness made perfect after-school fare. Moreover, The Brady Bunch was in color, which was more desirable than the black-and-white wholesome sitcoms of the '50s. The constant reruns increased the show's fan base exponentially: They were watched not only by the show's original viewers, but by their younger siblings, their younger siblings and by the children of the original viewers. But what made this mass of viewers different from those generations that watched, say, I Love Lucy was that many of these kids were the products of broken homes. Divorces skyrocketed in the '70s and '80s, causing immense pain and dislocation. Yet, every afternoon, kids could watch this program where a blended family had worked things out, where (a non-working) mom and a maid would be there with milk and cookies and all sibling squabbles would be manfully arbitrated by dad. You couldn't ask for a more perfect fantasy world. *The lure of nostalgia. With their overromanticizing of the '50s and '60s, baby boomers sometimes make it seem as if their Wonder Years were the only ones that mattered. As the post-boomers entered their 20s and 30s, they began to mythologize their own pasts - a key part of which was spent watching The Brady Bunch.And after dealing with the secondhand nostalgia (classic rock, early-'60s sitcoms) handed down by the boomers, The Brady Bunch was something they could call their own, a kind of video fraternal handshake. *The kitsch values. The 1970s was, as everyone agrees, among the most taste-free decades in world history. And in every episode of The Brady Bunch, the most garish excesses of that decade are in your face: from the Bradys' avocado- and tangerine-colored kitchen to their ''groovy'' hairstyles to the crocheted vests, Huckapoo shirts and plaid bell-bottoms. It's humorous and embarrassing to realize that many of us wore the same outlandish outfits, and even more amusing to those who were too young to be there the first time around. *Real life? No way. The Brady Bunch's original run nearly paralleled the same years as the Nixon administration - a time of great social ferment and generational upheaval that TV programming had just begun to reflect. But except for a few episodes (the tame subject of ecology or a gentle poke at women's liberation), the Bradys reveled in their irrelevance. It just would not have been the same if Greg had been caught in his room toking on a joint while blasting Dark Side of the Moon or if Marcia had found herself having sexual fantasies about John Dean. It's easy to laugh at The Brady Bunch. But dig deeper, past the shag haircuts and dopey expressions, and you hit upon a more deeply felt emotion: a yearning for the kind of idealized family life the Bradys had. Most of us didn't have a live-in housekeeper or open and sympathetic parents or get along as famously with our siblings. As many of the original Brady watchers become parents themselves, struggling to maintain a Brady-like lifestyle with fewer kids and two incomes, the yearning becomes even stronger. Sure, the show was anachronistic then (and has grown even more so as life has become nastier and more complicated since 1974), but it had a genuine core. It was never cynical or calculated and never took itself too seriously. Still, they really acted like a bunch of white-bread dorks, didn't they? Think you're a Brady aficionado? Test your knowledge. (Answers are at end of text.) 1. How did Marcia's nose get broken, jeopardizing her big date with football hero Doug Simpson? A. Bobby threw a baseball at her. B. Peter threw a football at her. C. Greg threw a basketball at her. D. Alice threw a brownie at her. 2. What was Alice's last name? A. Kramden B. Toklas C. Nelson D. Brady 3. What was the name of the Bradys' dog? A. Tiger B. Lassie C. Fala D. Spot 4. What street, named for a U.S. president, do the Bradys live on? A. Eisenhower Avenue B. Roosevelt Road C. Lincoln Court D. Clinton Way 5. Jan or Marcia? A. Couldn't tap dance B. Played Juliet C. Wore glasses D. Wore a wig E. Was a cheerleader 6. What did the girls buy with the 94 books of trading stamps? A. Sewing machine B. Color TV C. Barbie doll D. Mystery Date game 7. How did the lovely lady meet the fellow (and they knew it would be much more than a hunch)? A. At a Parents Without Partners dance B. Personal ad C. They were set up by Sam the Butcher D. It was never explained 8. Which real-life athlete never appeared on The Brady Bunch? A. Don Drysdale B. Joe Namath C. O.J. Simpson D. Deacon Jones 9. What job did Greg not have? A. Office boy for Mike B. Delivery boy for Sam C. Local chairman of Youth for Nixon D. Class photographer 10. When Peter imitated Humphrey Bogart, he kept saying ''Pork Chops and ...?'' A. Applesauce B. Wonder Bread C. Rice D. Mashed potatoes Answers 1-B, 2-C, 3-A, 4-D, 5-A) Jan, B) Marcia, C) Jan, D) Jan, E) Marcia, 6-B, 7-D, 8-C, 9-C, 10-A. GRAPHIC: PHOTO: Our heroes: The Brady clan is a little nostalgic, a little comforting and a lot tacky. But they have endured for more than 20 years after the series was canceled. PHOTO CREDIT: None ============================================ The Houston Chronicle September 22, 1994, Thursday, 2 STAR Edition SECTION: HOUSTON; Snippets; Pg. 2 HEADLINE: Snippets BYLINE: Staff, Wire reports BODY: 'Brady' food secrets revealed Want to know what kind of far-out culinary fare Mike, Carol, Greg, Marcia, Peter, Jan, Bobby and Cindy Brady consumed? Care to find out which ''Brady Bunch"" dishes were so good that Tiger (the dog) likely didn't get to taste them under the table? Well, then you'll want to pick up a copy of ''Alice's Brady Bunch Cookbook"" (Rutledge Hill Press, $ 12.95) by Ann (Alice the Housekeeper) Davis, due out Monday. According to USA Today, the book lists 280 Brady Bunch recipes, including the ridiculously named ""Make the World a Lot Brighter Chicken'' and ""It's a Sunshine Day Scalloped Potatoes. '' In the book, Davis also offers personal reflections on the show and even divulges the secret behind Robert Reed's curly hair. ============================================ The Washington Post June 8, 1992, Monday, Final Edition SECTION: STYLE; PAGE C1 HEADLINE: The Brady Boomer; Barry Williams Has Learned to Live With Pain, and the Profit, From the 'Bunch' SERIES: Occasional BYLINE: Roxanne Roberts, Washington Post Staff Writer BODY: To Brady, or Not to Brady: that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of a really stupid television role -- or drop out of acting forever? Ask Barry Williams -- better, and probably forever, known as Greg Brady. It's hard to understand why 18 years after cancellation, "The Brady Bunch" lives on. And on. AND ON. The "most inconsequential show ever" (and that's according to the late Robert "Dad Brady" Reed, who always hated it) has become a camp classic: daily reruns on more than 100 stations, a sellout play in New York, fan magazines. A lot of people believe Williams is Greg Brady -- albeit older, with a receding hairline and (contrary to the recent People magazine "Brady Bunch" cover) only one extra chin. It would be one thing if the 37-year-old actor was getting rich off all this Bradymania, but he doesn't get residuals from syndication. And it's not exactly a career plus; in fact, it's a joke. Forget playing Hamlet. Once a Brady, always a Brady. So why is this man smiling? "Certainly I could have looked at it as a truck that hit me -- and I would've been beating up transvestites and robbing video stores," says Williams, who is not visibly embittered, addicted or suffering from some of those standard child-actor traumas. "To spend 20 years angry at living something down just seems like a waste." Gosh, it's almost like a "Brady" episode: hard work, humility and a sense of humor will get a guy through just about anything. He's still acting -- he's got a leading role in "City of Angels," which opens at the National Theatre tomorrow. And he's got a book that hit No. 3 on Sunday's New York Times paperback bestseller list and No. 5 on The Post's: "Growing Up Brady: I Was a Teenage Greg" -- an irreverent look at his date with Florence, raging teenage hormones on the set, how Tiger the dog became roadkill, and other adventures in Bradyland. "There's nothing I take for granted," he says. "I mean, except for the chins" -- that would be the three on the People cover -- "I'm absolutely thrilled with this kind of acknowledgment." What a ... well, Brady thing to say. Imagine that the rest of your life was defined by how you looked, talked and acted when you were a teenager. The average person would, say, throw himself off a very high building. The main reason people go to high school reunions is to prove they're nothing like that geeky 15-year-old. Williams put a picture of his teenage self -- complete with fuzzy hair and orange polyester bell-bottoms on the cover of his book. Credit him with, at the very least, a good sense of humor. "In a career, you can't just suddenly exorcise an entire part of who you were and how people know you," he says with a shrug. "But it does mean that you're going to be right for certain jobs and not right for others. And that's always the case, whether or not you have a Brady in your closet." Of course, in 1968, that demon was his Big Break. More than 1,200 kids auditioned for the show; executive producer Sherwood Schwartz narrowed it down to 12 finalists -- six girls and six boys -- then cast the "parents": blond Florence Henderson and brunet Robert Reed. Schwartz wanted the children to look like the parents, so he dropped the blond boys and brunet girls, who presumably went on to happy, anonymous lives. Three blond girls and three dark-haired boys, including 14-year-old Williams, became the Bunch for 117 fun-filled episodes. It was never a Top 10 hit, but the Bradys -- who could solve any problem in 22 minutes -- survived five seasons from 1969 to 1974. Teenage boys lusted after the miniskirted Maureen McCormick, who played the oldest daughter, Marcia. But it was Williams -- gorgeous eyes, huge eyebrows and a great smile -- who received 6,500 fan letters a week. He ate it up. "I was one of those obnoxious kids who knew what I wanted to do when I was 4 years old." He was a child actor before the Bradys -- "Dragnet," "Mission Impossible," "That Girl" -- and planned to continue in show business after the show was canceled. "I really did have fun doing it," he says. "But I always saw it as part of a bigger plan and I was caught by the short hairs when I found out that this was not going to be the kind of professional credit that I had anticipated." Call it the understatement of the year. The decade. The past two decades. The actors on "The Brady Bunch" emerged from a silly but harmless sitcom into Life After Brady -- except there wasn't. They were condemned to Rerun Purgatory: endlessly saying the same inane lines, wearing hipster '70s clothes, and basically sounding about as profound as Vanna White. Cultural historians are at a loss to explain the phenomenon, but the Bradys are more popular today than when the show originally aired. "I'm asked about it a lot," says Williams. "I don't really try and explain it, either. It's pretty hard and you're really just guessing in the dark." There are many theories. There's baby boomer nostalgia: The Bradys represent an idealized, suburban childhood in a safer, simpler time -- no drugs, no AIDS, no teenage suicide. And there's a timeless aspect to the Bradys; the problems are universal -- the ups and downs of school, dating and family life -- and the lessons relatively painless. And there's a laugh-at-them quality to it all. "Saturday Night Live" has a Jan Brady character. "The Real Live Brady Bunch," is a sellout play based on actual Brady scripts. In a recent Newsday poll, 40 fifth-graders named "The Brady Bunch" as their favorite show from the '50s through the '70s. The Curse Robert Reed, a graduate of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, hated the show the entire time he was on it and even more afterward. Florence Henderson, on the other hand, has gone on to a blissful career promoting cooking oil with "Wessonality." Actress Ann B. Davis (Alice the maid) was a television veteran ("The Bob Cummings Show") who took it all in stride. Williams is the only Brady kid who actively pursued an acting career. The other Brady kids retreated to lives of relative anonymity -- "I think that they have resented the continued identification with it," he says. No wonder. After the show was canceled, Williams couldn't get TV or movie parts. He couldn't even get auditions. He was too old, too young, too famous, not famous enough. "It wasn't that I couldn't get the job, I couldn't get the interview. So it wasn't even like the door was open long enough to get slammed." Therein followed close to 20 years touring in plays and musicals around the country, interrupted by the lure (read $ $ $ ) of Brady revivals: "The Brady Bunch Hour" -- a truly dreadful variety show; "The Brady Brides"; "A Very Brady Christmas" -- the second-highest-rated TV movie of 1988; and "The Bradys" -- the nightmare of sequels wherein the grown-up kids faced real-life problems: Marcia was an alcoholic and Bobby became a paraplegic. So to say that Williams is ecstatic about his starring role in "City of Angels" -- a Tony-award winning musical about a detective writer whose mystery script comes to life -- would not be exaggerating. And the reviews? "I'll hear things like 'timeworn name' or 'television celebrity' in the most derogatory kinds of terms," he says. "When they're good, and frankly most of the time you'll hear, 'surprisingly, Barry Williams,' 'despite the fact that Barry Williams ...,' 'one wouldn't have expected but Barry Williams ...' and then they'll go on to characterize it somewhat fairer. But I'm still waiting for the critic that has given me something to learn from." True Confessions You want to hear Williams's thoughts on the subtleties of musical theater? Nah? Well, hardly anyone else does either. He thought he had really "arrived," acting-wise, when he landed the lead in "Romance, Romance" -- on Broadway. His picture was eight feet tall on 44th Street, "The Phantom of the Opera" was down the street, and what did people ask him about? The Bunch. "And I thought, 'Jiminy Christmas. This thing really won't go away.' And so I thought, 'All right. It's time for me to talk.' " The result? "Growing Up Brady" which, in the last month, has sold more than 100,000 copies and gone to its fifth printing. "My hope," says Williams, "was that it would just say, 'Okay everybody: This is what that was about and that's how I feel about it. Now can we get on with life?' " Probably not. Sylvester Stallone will always be Rocky. Leonard Nimoy? Mr. Spock. Michael Landon? Little Joe. Barry Williams? Greg Brady. But he had a great time writing it, anyway. He calls it his "For Whom the Bell-Bottoms Toll." The book is full of Inside Trivia including: Dating Your Mom: Budding 15-year-old stud (Williams) with adolescent hormonal energy asked his TV mom (Henderson, who was married with four children) for a night on the town. "I mean, I certainly didn't see her as America's mom, or anything of the sort," he says. "I saw her as attractive and pretty. I liked her sense of humor and she paid attention to me -- which was great. And I was still kind of excited." Williams took her to the Coconut Grove where he tipped the maitre d' $ 3. Henderson never made him feel stupid. "I am the very most grateful to her for that -- and letting me kiss her at the end." Brady Lust: Williams finally realized why the rest of teenage America was lusting after his costar/TV sister, Maureen McCormick. They had an on-again, off-again teenage hormone fest -- necking and groping during takes -- but the relationship remained unconsummated. Unlike, say, Jan (Eve Plumb) and Peter's (Chris Knight). Brady fans are shocked! "You've come to know us acting as brothers and sisters or mother and son and that kind of thing," says Williams. "But when the camera stopped, we never confused the fact that we were playing roles. I mean, I never went home and went: Who am I now, Greg or Barry? I just looked over and said: 'Hey, Maureen's looking fantastic today.' " One Toke Over the Line: Williams was unexpectedly called to the set one day, shortly after indulging in America's second favorite '70s teenage passion -- marijuana. The scene called for him to pump air into his bicycle tire while saying, "You didn't say anything about buying a boat, Dad!" He thought this was finally a chance to show off his great acting ability. It wasn't. But watch for it in reruns. What Really Happened to Tiger: The Bradys' pet dog disappeared after the fourth episode because of an unfortunate run-in with a real-life florist's truck. The charm lies in the fact that Williams doesn't take any of it too seriously, except when it comes to Robert Reed, who wrote the foreward to the book before he died last month. Reed, despite his contempt for the show, was genuinely fond of all the actors. He took all six kids to London for a week, where they visited Shakespeare's birthplace and the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, and saw "The Mousetrap." All the actors stayed in touch over the years; Reed and the rest of the cast attended Williams's wedding two years ago. "He was a very good role model for me," says Williams. "Here's a man that I have respect for, that in some ways is a father figure and a fellow co-worker for all those years." Reed's death was first attributed to colon cancer, then it was revealed there were also complications from AIDS. Reed always lived his life privately, says Williams. "I was really concerned with him to the degree that he influenced and interacted in my life, so what he did on his own was his own to have and his own choices." But the tabloids splashed the story across the front page; it's the only subject Williams gets teary talking about. "There's kind of a character assassination that goes along with it," he says. "I don't care if someone sleeps with sheep myself, you know. It wouldn't color who I voted for or who I respected as an actor." Calling Dr. Greg Greg Brady grew up to be a gynecologist. Barry Williams was on a flight somewhere over Texas two years ago when a woman went into labor. Several passengers asked Dr. Greg to help. "Dr. Greg" reminded them he's not really a doctor. It will be a long time before people forget the Bradys. "What I keep hearing consistently is that people blame the business," he says. "I think it's a simplistic thing to do. It's a cop-out, really. This is the nature of the business, how it works. The business does typecast you. The business will force you to re-prove yourself. That's just the way it goes." So he tours. He's pretty thrilled about "City of Angels." He thinks he'll be on the tube again, probably in another series or maybe a feature film. And he's putting together a club act with his wife, Diane, a singer. "I kind of liken it to sort of Steve and Eydie for the '90s. It's very similar to that." The Bradys would have loved it. GRAPHIC: PHOTO, BARRY WILLIAMS IN 1972 AS ALL-AMERICAN TEENAGER GREG BRADY. BILL SNEAD; PHOTO ============================================ The Commercial Appeal (Memphis) May 27, 1992, Wednesday, FINAL EDITION SECTION: FUN FOOD & FACES, Pg. E8, Fun HEADLINE: 'BRADY KID' WILLIAMS, WITH CAREER CLICKING AGAIN AT 37, TELLS ALL BYLINE: Dana Kennedy; The Associated Press DATELINE: NEW YORK BODY: Striding across the hotel lobby, dark hair combed back, dark suit neatly pressed, he looks like a handsome stockbroker heading for Wall Street. But the heads that slowly turn in his direction hint that there's something a little FAMILIAR about him. It's GREG BRADY! In the flesh! But wait. Why is Greg's hairline receding? Where's Marcia, Peter, Jan, Bobby and Cindy? Mike and Carol? Alice and Tiger? Sam the Butcher? The sad answer, of course, is that TV's entire Brady Bunch has grown up. And Barry Williams, who played big brother Greg during the show's five-year run, is 37 now and ready to rip the lid off the biggest story since Watergate. In his new book, Growing Up Brady (HarperCollins, $ 10) Williams, now a successful actor in musical theater, strips the saccharine veneer off one of TV's legendary families and reveals the their hardwood high jinks. ''Whether we liked it or not, all of our lives changed forever when we were chosen to play the Brady kids,'' says Williams, now starring in the national tour of City of Angels. ''I get asked questions wherever I go, and I wanted to set the record straight.'' Everything the Brady Bunch lacked on TV - sex, drugs, major feuds - they more than made up for in real life, he said. Williams is personable, quick- witted and sardonic in real life, and so is the book. Williams checked with all the cast members before writing Growing Up Brady, and the result pokes more fun at the Bradys than any outsider could. Chapters include such titles as ''Dating Your Mom'' and ''Fear and Loathing at the Bradys.'' The book offers backstage highlights of the show, which ran from 1969 to 1974 and has enjoyed a series of resurrections, like 1988's top-rated TV movie, A Very Brady Christmas: -- Williams's longtime lust for his TV mother, Florence Henderson, led him to ask her for a date. Henderson, married at the time with four children, accepted. She later admitted she had a crush on him, too. -- Tiger, the dog who played the part for the first three episodes, was run over by a car, and his trainer substituted a bogus Tiger for the fourth show. But the canine impostor ''couldn't act.'' From that time on, Williams writes, the producers ''wisely limited Tiger's appearances to the occasional cameo.'' Williams details the time he showed up on the set stoned. It was a simple scene, but it became a nightmarish ordeal under the influence, and he never repeated the experience. Also covered is the late Robert Reed's long-running feud with the show's creators and producers, Sherwood Schwartz and his son, Lloyd. Reed, a Shakespearean-trained actor, could never reconcile himself to the lowbrow sitcom format. He often wrote multipage memos comparing what he deemed poorly written Brady episodes with A Midsummer Night's Dream or Citizen Kane. Reed died May 12 of colon cancer. He was 59. Given the decadence lurking behind the cheery facade of the Bradys, Williams could be another child star casualty. But Williams and his TV siblings apparently have escaped the fate of tragic former child stars. Williams said he went through a rough period in his mid- 20s when he found it hard to get work. ''There was a time when being a Brady wasn't cool,'' he says, seated in a hotel bar overlooking Times Square. ''It kind of interfered with getting ahead. But after a while, I broke past all that and found myself free to pursue an adult career.'' Williams first starred on Broadway in Pippin in 1977. He has divided his time between stage and the numerous Brady revivals, including The Brady Bunch Hour, The Brady Brides and The Bradys. When talking about the alter ego that has shadowed him for 23 years, Williams is both self-mocking and serious. ''If someone had told me 23 years ago that I'd be sitting here talking about Greg Brady, I would have thought they were nuts,'' Williams says. Though his experience was mostly favorable, he includes a cautionary chapter in his book about the hazards of child stardom. ''I really feel strongly that you have one chance to be a child and a lifetime to be an adult,'' he says. ''You can't make it up. But we were lucky. We had a lot of people looking out for us who wanted to make things as normal as possible. Plus, there were six of us going through the same thing. In that sense we were like a real family.'' ============================================ The Morning Call (Allentown, PA) September 24, 1994, SATURDAY, FIRST EDITION SECTION: ENTERTAINMENT, Pg. A80, NIGHTCLUBBING HEADLINE: BARRY WILLIAMS IS SWELL TO BRADY FANS AT K.U. BYLINE: JENNIFER WHITLOCK; (A free-lance story for The Morning Call) BODY: The program for Monday night's "multimedia comic lecture/performance" by Barry Williams ("a.k.a. Greg the Grooviest Brady") proclaimed that "the country is abuzz with BRADYMANIA." A pretty exaggerated statement, you might think, considering "The Brady Bunch" television show isn't in syndication in the Lehigh Valley area at the moment. Still, almost 1,000 Kutztown University students and other spectators afflicted with the nostalgia disease packed Schaeffer Auditorium to hear Williams speak. People started waiting in line for the free event at 4:30 p.m. By the time the show started at 7 p.m., fans were being shooed away from the door -except for a reporter and photographer who were frantically waving a notebook and camera and mouthing "Press!" Williams spoke about the making of the TV show and the subsequent failed attempts to resuscitate it. But mostly he dished the dirt -- sanitized dirt, that is. Despite promises to tell "all the sordid details," Williams mostly settled for innuendo, confessions of desire and innocent stories of first kisses, just as he did in his book, "Growing up Brady: I was a Teenage Greg." "Let me clear up rumors about me and Florence Henderson," he said, referring to their infamous date. "I only had sex with her once. ... She was not actually there at the time." He did reveal details of the makeout sessions between each Brady and his or her opposite-sex counterpart, though he insisted that "the rumors about Alice and Tiger (the dog) were not true." Williams's lecture was a series of anecdotes and one-liners, with a dose of irony about his image. "I'm hoping to get away from the Greg Brady image," he said. "I want to get more to Keith Partridge." And to audience members who said they wished their families were more like the Bradys, he assured them it could happen. "All you need is producers, writers, a bad wardrobe and Astroturf in your back yard!" In addition to the lecture, Williams showed clips of Greg making out with a girl in a car -- until a frog jumped on her head; Marcia getting slammed on the nose with a football; Alice flirting with Sam the Butcher, and other goofy segments. Especially tacky and hilarious was the clip from the failed 1977 show, "The Brady Bunch Hour." It showed the whole family, including Alice, singing "I Got The Music in Me," "The Hustle" and "Shake Your Booty" and wearing sparkly polyester jumpsuits. For the finale, Williams came back in a head band, plaid pants, a red madras shirt, a leather vest with long fringe, love beads and platform shoes and taught a few dozen people from the audience "the Brady dance" to the Bradys' version of "It's a Sunshine Day." He also answered a few questions: "When (the Monkees') Davy Jones was on the show, were you jealous?" "I would have been if Maureen frenched (french-kissed) him," he replied. "Are you seeing anyone?" "No," answered the recently divorced Williams. "Did being Greg help your sex life?" "It certainly was a nice ice breaker," he confessed. "What happened to Tiger?" "Roadkill. He got run over by a truck. And the next day, his replacement wouldn't sit still, so we nailed his collar to the floor and put his head in it." After the show ended at 8:30 p.m., Williams signed autographs and posed for pictures until 11 p.m. He even rode a bicycle with a handful of students who said it was their dream to ride a bike with Greg Brady. Gee, he's so swell. Only one edition was published on Saturday, September 24, 1994. GRAPHIC: PHOTO by LISA LAKE, Special To The Morning Call CAPTION: Barry Williams taught a few dozen people 'the Brady dance' at Kutztown University on Monday night. ============================================ THE GERALDO RIVERA SHOW SHOW: THE GERALDO RIVERA SHOW (3:00 PM ET) April 4, 1997, Friday 12:20 PM HEADLINE: CELEBRITY NEWS; LATEST GOSSIP IN HOLLYWOOD REGARDING NEWS EVENTS AND STARS ANCHORS: Geraldo Rivera BODY: HOST: Geraldo Rivera EXECUTIVE PRODUCER: Jose Pretlow CELEBRITY NEWS DEBORAH MITCHELL (Supervising Producer): Ladies and gentlemen, Geraldo Rivera. GERALDO RIVERA: Hi, everybody. Thank you. Thanks. Hi. Hi. Hi, everybody! Friday, April 4th, welcome to Celebrity News. [. . . text omitted . . . ] And our special guest today, perhaps the most famous TV mom in America--it's Mrs. Brady herself, Florence Henderson will be here live on this very Brady edition of Celebrity News. [. . . text omitted . . . ] All right. We'll have the latest on the Ennis Cosby case, the latest on Simpson and where's the missing Heisman trophy? And then Mrs. Brady herself, Florence Henderson, joins us live here in the studio. Stay tuned. We'll be right back. (Announcements) RIVERA: We're back, Celebrity News. I want to deal--as we await Florence Henderson, let's us--deal right now, Tanya Hart, with the latest in the Ennis Cosby murder investigation. Stephanie Crane, the--the aunt of Melissa Gilbert and a... [. . . text omitted . . . ] RIVERA:: All right. Florence Henderson when we come back, folks. Mrs. Brady here in the flesh. Stay tuned. (Announcements) (Excerpt from "The Brady Bunch," courtesy Paramount Pictures) RIVERA: It's--it's so fresh. I was staring at that clip. My special guest undoubtedly one of the most recognizable faces on the planet, a multifaceted career; it's encompassed three decades of work on stage, screen and, of course, on television. She's got a great voice, someone reminded me in the audience--began performing at the age of two, never slowed down from there. Her hit television series ran for just five seasons, was seen, though, in 122 countries around the world, and the show continues to run in syndication to this very day. Welcome, everybody, America's Mom, you know her as Carol Brady on "The Brady Bunch," Florence Henderson joins us, ladies and gentlemen. Ms. FLORENCE HENDERSON (Actress): Hi, Geraldo. Finally. RIVERA: How are you? How nice to see you. Isn't she... Ms. HENDERSON: Hi. RIVERA: And you smell so good, too. Ms. HENDERSON: Well... RIVERA: Smells good. Ms. HENDERSON: ...thank you. RIVERA: Wow. So--I don't know, is it a source of pride or annoyance that you'll always, no matter what you do, have that kind of Florence--I mean, the Carol Brady label? Ms. HENDERSON: A great source of pride. RIVERA: Is it? You know... Ms. HENDERSON: I mean, I... RIVERA: ...I--I--I would hope so. Ms. HENDERSON: ...I really... RIVERA: I really would hope so. Ms. HENDERSON: You know, I think actors that do something that--that kind of brands them, and then they start complaining about it, and they don't want to talk about it, and they don't want you to mention it--I think they should get out of the business. RIVERA: Oh. Did you like the two movies that were done? Ms. HENDERSON: Well, I was in... RIVERA: Honest--honestly. Ho--you've got... Ms. HENDERSON: In the first movie, I was in, and a lot of the other members of the cast were in that movie, and it made a lot of money. The second movie they decided they didn't need us anymore, and it flopped. Ha, ha. Sorry, I'm just being--I don't mean to be nasty. RIVERA: A little--little wicked there for--for Carol Brady. Ms. HENDERSON: Well, no, Shelley Long did a great job and Gary Cole and-- and the kids were all fabulous, I thought. RIVERA: So were you consulted then on the--on the script and on the direction the films would take? Ms. HENDERSON: Well, at--the first movie they called and asked if I would be in it, and I said, Well, send me a scene.' And they sent me a terrible scene. I mean, I was playing, like, a--a truck driver with cigarettes rolled up in my sleeve and talking tough, you know. Now I'll do anything for a laugh, truly, but this wasn't funny. And then I said, Well, how much are you going to pay for this?' And it was just embarrassing, the amount of money. I said, You know something? I don't get out of bed for that kind of money. I don't get in bed for that kind of money.' RIVERA: Oh. Ms. HENDERSON: Honestly, it was ter--it was embarrassing. RIVERA: Did I--did I hear that you and your husband live on a huge yacht in Marina Del Ray? Ms. HENDERSON: We do. We live... RIVERA: Oh, how fun. Ms. HENDERSON: Yes--on a wonderful 87-foot Sharp-DeFever, and I know you love boats. RIVERA: Yes, I do. Ms. HENDERSON: And it's a great way of life. We love it. It's kind of like a triplex in New York, but you can untie when you don't like your neighbors and you just float away. RIVERA: Just ship--ship right out of there. Ms. HENDERSON: And you don't have to worry about earthquakes. RIVERA: Nothing like that. Ms. HENDERSON: Right. RIVERA: Now you're--you're promoting something very special. I tell you what. Why don't I take a break now? You can tell us all about this ReaLemon contest that you're involved in. Ms. HENDERSON: Oh, that's sweet of you. RIVERA: OK. Ms. HENDERSON: Thank you. RIVERA: Right back. Florence Henderson will be back right after this. (Announcements) (Excerpt from "The Brady Bunch Movie," courtesy Paramount Pictures) RIVERA: There she is. It's Florence as--just not as Carol, though. What were you playing? What... Ms. HENDERSON: Well, it was kind of a theme that Betty Thomas and I... RIVERA: A friend of the family? Ms. HENDERSON: No, I played the grandmother. I did. RIVERA: Oh, the grandma. Is that what it was? Oh, OK. Ms. HENDERSON: I played Carol Brady. I played the real Carol Brady. RIVERA: You mentioned in the commercial that Shelley Long, who played your- -the role that you made so famous, will always be remembered for "Cheers"... Ms. HENDERSON: Right. RIVERA: ...in the same way that you'll be always associated with "The Brady Bunch." Ms. HENDERSON: Exactly. And you will always be associated with... RIVERA: With someone with a lot of initials... Ms. HENDERSON: ...a lot of things. Mm-hmm. RIVERA: ...one of which starts with O. Ms. HENDERSON: Right. RIVERA: Now someone in the audience reminded me about your fabulous voice. I want to get quickly to the contest, but did you really start performing at two, and is singing your real love? Ms. HENDERSON: Yes. RIVERA: And would you hum me a few bars? Ms. HENDERSON: Sure. What would you like to hear? What's your favorite song? RIVERA: My favorite--oh, come on. I don't know what you sing. Tell me. I don't know. Why don't you do it? Ms. HENDERSON: Oh, well, let's see. This would be a good one for you. (Singing) RIVERA: Oh--oh, darling. Ms. HENDERSON: "The Lover." RIVERA: All right. Now I--I've used it in my margaritas and in Tom Collins and in--in gin and tonics when I don't have lime around... Ms. HENDERSON: It's the real stuff. RIVERA: ...but it's really good. It's the real stuff, natural strength. Now what's your association with these people? Ms. HENDERSON: Well, ReaLemon lemon juice asked me to--to come aboard. They have a new--new bottle with these fresh-cut lemons on it and... RIVERA: Mm-hmm. Ms. HENDERSON: All you ladies in the audience, I'm sure, are familiar with this product. It's been around as long as we have, right? And they're sponsoring a contest, which I think is really exciting. If you send in an original recipe with--that includes ReaLemon lemon juice and chicken, and then you can add whatever ingredients you want, you can win a trip for two to Australia if your recipe is picked. RIVERA: Is that right? Ms. HENDERSON: Yeah. I think it's very, very exciting. RIVERA: And what--what's the reason? Why are they sponsoring this contest? Ms. HENDERSON: Well, because they're trying to make people aware of--of product dating and, you know, how freshness counts. RIVERA: Is there a date on this here? Ms. HENDERSON: Yes. Look on the top. Use by... RIVERA: Oh, right. Oh, yeah. Look at that. Ms. HENDERSON: Wait--see? Nobody looks for those dates. RIVERA: Use by November 25th, 1997.' Ms. HENDERSON: I bet you've got--you've got things in your refrigerator growing hair. I mean, you've got... RIVERA: Oh, my. If it were up to me, they would be growing hair in there for sure, right. Ms. HENDERSON: No, but you've got to check those things and--and they can... RIVERA: The only thing I make are margaritas and Tom Collins and gin and tonics. But--OK, so--and you can win a trip tor two. OK. Here's the address, everybody: ReaLemon Rules, 41 Madison Avenue, Suite 500, New York, New York, and there is the ZIP. They've got to be in by the 15th of July. Win a free trip to Australia. Ms. HENDERSON: During Australia's springtime. RIVERA: Oh, Australia's springtime. Ms. HENDERSON: Yes. RIVERA: Say hi to Florence Henderson, everybody. Ms. HENDERSON: Thank you. That's--that's sweet of you. RIVERA: We'll be right back after this. Ms. HENDERSON: Thank you. (Announcements) RIVERA: First of all ...(unintelligible) Arizona, congratulations to the national champs, my alma mater. Here's next week's Star: "Star Trek" and "The X-Files" made the--the crazies do it. A nod to Walter Cronkite. Celebrity of the Week is... MITCHELL: For her 17th nomination for her role in "All My Children," Susan Lucci. RIVERA: Susan Lucci, Celebrity of the Week. Thanks for watching, everybody. We will see you next time. See you on Monday. Have a great weekend. Bye-bye. ============================================ Austin American-Statesman September 12, 1996 SECTION: XL Ent; Pg. 64 HEADLINE: MARCIA! MARCIA! MARCIA!; Since Christine Taylor is so good at happening in far-out ways, Marcia Brady is poised to live forever as a 20th- century archetype. Sorry, Jan. BYLINE: HANK STUEVER BODY: Admittedly, I was a wee bit predisposed to be laughing like an idiot during ''A Very Brady Sequel,'' because, oh, because I'm that way. But I also took my seat with a measure of weary cynicism, arms folded, because, oh, because it's just getting to be way too much: the VH1 '70s tribute week, the platform shoes when you don't know or care if they're ironic or not, the giddy couple who show up late at night on TV to sell you multi-CD collections of disco. This is all about our fear of the millennium, plain and simple; ofwhat happens when that odometer of ages rolls over and we can't have the '60s, or the '70s, or the '80s, or the '90s all around us for constant feedings. Time is going to be like the world's meanest flight attendant, insisting we can only have two carry-ons of cultural baggage when we go. We'll never decide what else to take besides Elvis. Anyway, I did laugh (quite idiotically) at the movie and marveledmarvelled, just totally marveledat the way this hack piece of Hollywood spoofery orbited around Christine Taylor's performance as Marcia Brady. ''Oscar!'' I screamed at the credits, and meant it: ''Oscar for Marcia!'' Taylor is so good at being Marcia, she even out-Marcias Maureen McCormick, television's original Marcia. This new Marcia is meaner, prettier, even more popular than we dared dream. She redefines the character. She redefines far out. Taylor's two turns at Marcia -- which will probably, sadly, obliterate her remaining acting career (like McCormick's) -- have unfurled the possibilities for all-new, all-better references to the American groovy chick. The hair gets straighter and longer, the skin more orange, the eyes greener, the skirts shorter. Something will come of this, something more than insipid '70s mania: Marcia Brady is going to live way beyond the allotted two decades our collected consciousness will afford television sitcom teen-agers. That is because we hate her as much as we love her. We want the football smacked hard against her nose, yet we thrill when Davy Jones rings the doorbell. She elicits from us such disparate emotions, that, if we properly care for her, she might take her place as a literary archetype with the likes of Austen's Emma, Hawthorne's Hester Prynne, MGM's Dorothy Gale, Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth, and the New Testament groupie chick, Mary Magdalene. In the coming decades -- centuries, -- any novelist, filmmaker, literary critic, songwriter, cartoonist, Unabomber -- whoever -- can appropriate ''the Marcia'' to his or her own devices and people will immediately understand her, recognize her, honor yet venomously envy her. Marcia will be less a character; more an adjective, even a noun. ''A Very Brady Sequel'' even hints at the possibilities to come in the next century, when three bickering black sisters turn to their mother (the drag queen RuPaul), to settle a fight. The Jan character, in cornrow braids,stomps off crying, ''Moesha, Moesha, Moesha!'' Yes: Black Marcia. White Marcia. Male Marcia. Infant Marcia, elderly Marcia. Everything enviable, everything envied. A verb, even, representing the horrible idea of wanting to be what you hate most: I marcia her. The potential is now here. Imagine Marcia in our future, the way Jane Austen's Emma returned in the form of Alicia Silverstone in ''Clueless'' -- we can't know what a Marcia looks like in the 2070s, but we'll certainly know her when she zooms by. Marcia in our past, too: How would Marcia manage on the Donner Party trail? (She'd eat.) How would Marcia cope under the great tyrannies of history? (Stomp her feet, slam her door, get her way.) How would she rule her people? (Efficiently, though selfishly -- Eva Peron, you have a phone call.) As for the 20th century, we can go back and simply replace the faces with Marcia's: the Manson girls, Patty Hearst, Jackie O., Gloria Steinem, Susan Sontag, Barbie, every last screaming thing at all those Beatles concerts, the faces of the Depression, the riveters on line during the war, Anna Quindlen and Maureen Dowd, any James Bond babe, Patricia Schroeder, Hillary Clinton ... aren't they all just a little bit (or a lot) Marcia? It's no longer about Brady trivia, Brady worship. The kids, Mike and Carol, Tiger the dog are spinning toward the drain, though Greg will always look good in white bell-bottoms, Alice's meatloaf will always feed eight. We're done with the Brady ''bunch.'' But Marcia remains. And poor Maureen McCormick will only be one of our many Marcias, the Patti LuPone of Marcias, the Chita Rivera of Marcias. Christine Taylor just came along and did it better. And that's fine. Someone else, a whole other Marcia, will come along and do it better still. You may ask: what about Jan? Another essay, another problem: We are all Jan. That is not about whether you are boy or girl, first-born or last, pretty or not. Our Jan-ness only magnifies the adulation, the hate. Which is what makes Marcia forever. Believe it or not, Hank Stuever can't really play Brady trivia without peeking at the answers. ============================================ People April 15, 1996 SECTION: PICKS & PANS; SCREEN HEADLINE: TALKING WITH...ALLAN MELVIN BODY: MOTOR POOL MEMORIES The movie Sgt. Bilko did not exactly follow hard on the heels of the TV show that inspired it. The Phil Silvers Show went off the air in 1959, and in the interim most of the principals passed away. Of the key cast members, only Mickey Freeman, who played Private Zimmerman, and Allan Melvin, aka Corporal Henshaw, are still living. We caught up with the Kansas City-born Melvin, who at 73 continues to do voice-overs for commercials, in the Brentwood, Calif., home he shares with Amalia, his wife of 52 years. How did you get the job on Bilko? I was in Stalag 17 on Broadway when Phil Silvers saw me and asked me to be on the show. Phil had this wonderful background in burlesque. And he had this physical thing. He would crank himself up. We'd bust into a scene like we were shot from guns. Were you asked to be in the film? They offered me the father of the bride or something. It had one line. I said I didn't care to do that. The script didn't seem that funny. Have you seen it yet? I haven't. I'll wait for the video. You were also on Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. and All in the Family, among others. Do you still get recognized? I'm a household face. They say, "Hey, Henshaw," or "Hey, Sam the Butcher from The Brady Bunch." Now there's a cult thing. I've enjoyed the stuff I've done, but the one you're getting paid for, that's what you enjoy most. --LYNDON STAMBLER =============================================== GANNETT NEWS SERVICE July 11, 1995, Tuesday SECTION: TV Q and A HEADLINE: THE INCREDIBLE INMAN BYLINE: DAVID INMAN; The Louisville Courier-Journal BODY: Q: I can't remember this actor's name, but he played Sam the butcher on "The Brady Bunch." How many times did he appear on "The Andy Griffith Show" and "The Dick Van Dyke Show"? On which show did he appear first? - M.B., Chicago Heights, Ill. A: You're talking about the hardest-working man in show business, Allan Melvin, who not only did a bunch of guest shots on those sitcoms but was a regular on several shows, did cartoon voices and also did a ton of commercials, most notably as the Liquid Plumr guy. But before I get wrapped up in my glowing recounting of this man's career, allow me to answer your questions: Melvin appeared on eight episodes of "The Dick Van Dyke Show," most often as Sol Pomeroy, the Army buddy of Rob Petrie (Van Dyke) in flashback episodes. He also appeared on the show's last episode, the Western-themed "The Gunslinger." On "The Andy Griffith Show," Melvin was most often cast as a bad guy (see the classic "Barney's First Car" episode). In the "Barney's Uniform" episode, he played a town bully who threatened to beat up Barney if he ever saw him in street clothes. He also played an Army recruiter in the "Ernest T. Bass Joins the Army" episode. Melvin appeared on "The Dick Van Dyke Show" first, in the fall of 1961. His first appearance on "The Andy Griffith Show" was in 1962. From there, of course, he went on to play Sgt. Hacker on "Gomer Pyle, USMC," Sam on "The Brady Bunch" and Barney Hefner on "All in the Family" and "Archie Bunker's Place." What an actor! What a man! ============================================= THE ORANGE COUNTY REGISTER March 29, 1996 Friday MORNING EDITION SECTION: SHOW; Pg. F82; VERN PERRY HEADLINE: ON LASER DISC; LumiVision gives 'Dog' its day BYLINE: VERN PERRY, The Orange County Register BODY: When you think of special-edition laser discs, you think of classics and big titles such as "Citizen Kane" and "Pulp Fiction. " But there is also a burgeoning market for special editions of cult films. Fox recently released one of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," and now LumiVision has released one of "A Boy and His Dog," a most decidedly offbeat and yet entertaining and thought-provoking film. Based on the Nebula award-winning novella by Harlan Ellison, "A Boy and His Dog" is a science-fiction (sorry, Harlan, I know how much you hate that term, but it IS science fiction) shaggy dog tale about a young man named Vic and his telepathic dog, Blood, trying to survive in the post-apocalyptic chaos after World War IV. The special edition features audio commentary by screenwriter/director L.Q. Jones, cinematographer John Morrill and film critic Charles Champlin. Though Morrill and Champlin offer interesting insights, it is the comments and stories of Jones that make this disc worthwhile. As you might expect, Jones' best stories are about the dog that played Blood. Tiger, who was rescued from the pound when he was a puppy and survived a bout of distemper, was already a star (he was the dog on "The Brady Bunch") when he was cast in the film. Jones points out that when you watch dogs in movies or on television, you can usually see them look offscreen for commands from their trainers. Not Tiger. Jones says Tiger's trainer worked closely with the dog and his human co-star, a 23-year-old Don Johnson, so that when it was time to film, the trainer turned control of the dog over to Johnson. Another interesting story is how one of Hollywood's greatest actors almost ended up being the voice of Blood. "We did over 500 tests of people doing voice-overs . . . and I get word that Jimmy Cagney might be interested in doing the voice of the dog. " Jones couldn't believe his luck, but the more he thought about it, the more he didn't want the audience saying to itself, "That's Jimmy Cagney doing the voice of the dog. " Jones says the choice of character actor Tim McIntire for Blood's voice was the right one. Whether he is talking about the soldiers at Fort Irwin near Barstow and their families serving as extras or about how he fought to get the film rated R instead of PG, Jones is always a fountain of information. And that helps to make this special-edition a real treat. I do have one complaint, however: A photo on the back of the disc jacket identifies Johnson's co-star as "Patsy. " Wrong. Tiger won the Patsy (the animal Oscar) for playing Blood. That's a sloppy mistake. Vern Perry's laser-disc column appears Fridays in Show. You can write him c/o The Orange County Register, Show, P.O. Box 11626, Santa Ana, Calif. 92711. E-mail him questions or comments at LaserWrtr@AOL.COM 'A Boy and His Dog' Released by: LumiVision Date: 1975 Rated: R for nudity, violence Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes Features: 2.35:1 wide-screen aspect ratio; digital sound; audio commentary by director L.Q. Jones, cinematographer John Morril and film critic Charles Champlin; liner notes by Jones and Harlan Ellison.