Urban Myth Countdown

Originally posted by GenNeyland9@Aug 1, 2005 8:31 AM
Ok, as a neutral observer to this whole thing, I recently had a few revelations:

1) No bet is ever going to be made between these respective parties.  Neither trusts the other, and it is doubtful that a wager would be honored.  It's just too easy to say "screw you" and not honor it even if your team loses the bet.  The fan that gets to gloat about his team's victory will find that the sheer bliss of being able to rub in a big victory over his rival on this board is the only bet needed.  Besides, G-Ville would probably have to ask for an advance on his allowance, and that might stir up the tension in the G-Ville household.
2) G-Ville:  Don't talk about respect and being civilized as a poster, and especially don't talk about any Gator board being associated with such words.  I've been to Florida field several times, and have run across numerous Gator fans, some of whom are my best friends in the world.  "Respect" and "civilized" are not two words that come to mind when I think of Florida, its fans, or their message boards.

3) The infamous "catch/no catch" and "Wade/Baker Incident":  They both happened, and they're both history.  College football is full of drama and imperfection.  Although I'm still angered about the Gaffney call, the truth is that UT shouldn't have kicked 4 or so field goals instead of TD's, and their pass defense shouldn't have let Florida get all the way down the field in the closing minutes to set up the Gaffney catch.  By the way, I'm now officially calling it a catch, because no matter what, it is scored in the record books as a TD catch.  Similarly, Florida shouldn't have squandered a first and goal in the 3rd quarter when they missed a FG and came away with NOTHING.  They also should have stopped Ainge from effortlessly completing two passes to set up the game winner.  Bad breaks are a part of every game.  It just happens that UT's was on a missed Extra point that would have tied the game anyway.  We won last year; it's over.

4) The whole reason for Beltway's thread here is to poke fun at UM because of the ridiculous expectations and deification the Gator fans have thrown at his feet.  It's a joke, (and a funny one at that) and it makes it even funnier that after every Beltway Urban Myth post, G-Ville gets mad and wants to make a bet.  If you want to argue G-Ville, argue why Urban Meyer will succeed this season and meet the unreal expectations that fans (and the media) have placed on him.  Argue how/why Meyer will beat the more experienced Vols and their more veteran coaching staff.  Don't just say, "you wanna bet?"  That type of behavior is why Beltway guessed you were 12 years old. (For the record, I'll take the under on 15 years old; but then again I'm not the betting type . . . ) 

5) Can we talk about football again?

Just a few observations.
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haha, okay, if you say so. Believe it or not, UF has one of the biggest fan bases in the country, Im sure that there are bad posters, or fans, but Im also sure that there are very good posters, or fans. That goes for every team in every sport.


3. Couldnt agree more.

4. I never get mad at beltway's little urban myth postings, just because I would like for him to put his money (or w/e he so chooses) where his mouth is doesnt mean hes mad. And I also think that whenever he posts something I dont agree with, I think its okay that I post my thoughts, but hey Im just some 12 year old, what do I know. :rolleyes:

5. What do you think weve been talking about in this 15 page thread?


But I find it astonishing that when I bring a different opinion to the table, everyone gets in an uproar, and thinks Im the rudest, stupidest, "youngest" poster on here...even though, they either are true, or could become true....You guys dont seem to think that UF will win, I say they will.....its gatorvilles a moron, he knows nothing about football, haha..12 year old (which im not 12 by the way)


Its a message board, why would I get mad? Im just trying to have some fun and try to pass the time before football season starts. And in the process, maybe get some "bets" going, in pure fun. If thats so wrong, I guess maybe I should leave.
 
Well, I havent seen anyone here calling you a moron. JUST because we or I disagere with what you post, doesn't mean I think you are stupid, or that I need to call you that.

That's something that a few people on here seem to have a problem with. They can't seem to have anyone disagree with them without finding something wrong with the WAY inwhich that person disagrees.

Everyone needs to undersatand that people are all different, and that they disagree, argue, get points across, and several thousand other things in different ways than them. That doesn'e make the other people's methods WRONG, it just makes them different.
 
Gatorville, I am giving you and Beltway both a warning on turning every thread into an argument with all of the namecalling and cursing. I am sick and tired of reading it. It's gone to far when I don't want to come to my own site because of it. A little discussion is fine but its getting too personal and redundant. If you two want to keep it up, take it to PM or email.
 
Claim: Mel Gibson was the inspiration for the film The Man Without a Face.

Here is a true story by Paul Harvey. Pass it to anyone who you think would find it interesting and inspiring. You will be surprised who this young man turned out to be. (Do not look at the bottom if this letter until you have read it fully.)


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Years ago a hardworking man took his family from New York State to Australia to take advantage of a work opportunity there. Part of this man's family was handsome young son who had aspirations of joining the circus as a trapeze artist or an actor. This young fellow, biding his time until a circus job or even one as a stagehand came along, worked at the local shipyards which bordered on the worst section of town. Walking home from work one evening this young man was attacked by five thugs who wanted to rob him. Instead of just giving up his money the young fellow resisted. However they bested him easily and proceeded to beat him to a pulp. They mashed his face with their boots, and kicked and beat his body brutally with clubs, leaving him for dead. When the police happened to find him lying in the road they assumed he was dead and called for the Morgue Wagon.

On the way to the morgue a policeman heard him gasp for air, and they immediately took him to the emergency unit at the hospital. When he was placed on a gurney a nurse remarked to her horror, that his young man no longer had a face. Each eye socket was smashed, his skull, legs, and arms fractured, his nose literally hanging from his face, all is teeth were gone, and his jaw was almost completely torn from his skull. Although his life was spared he spent over year in the hospital. When he finally left his body may have healed but his face was disgusting to look at. He was no longer the handsome youth that everyone admired.

When the young man started to look for work again he was turned down by everyone just on account of the way he looked. One potential employer suggested to him that he join the freak show at the circus as The Man Who Had No Face. And he did this for a while. He was still rejected by everyone and no one wanted to be seen in his company. He had thoughts of suicide. This went on for five years.

One day he passed a church and sought some solace there. Entering the church he encountered a priest who had saw him sobbing while kneeling in a pew. The priest took pity on him and took him to the rectory where they talked at length. The priest was impressed with him to such a degree that he said that he would do everything possible for him that could be done to restore his dignity and life, if the young man would promise to be the best Catholic he could be, and trust in God's mercy to free him from his torturous life. The young man went to Mass and communion every day, and after thanking God for saving his life, asked God to only give him peace of mind and the grace to be the best man he could ever be in His eyes.

The priest, through his personal contacts was able to secure the services of the best plastic surgeon in Australia. They would be no cost to the young man, as the doctor was the priest's best friend. The doctor too was so impressed by the young man, whose outlook now on life, even though he had experienced the worse was filled with good humor and love.

The surgery was a miraculous success. All the best dental work was also done for him. The young man became everything he promised God he would be. He was also blessed with a wonderful, beautiful wife, and many children, and success in an industry which would have been the furthest thing from his mind as a career if not for the goodness of God and the love of the people who cared for him. This he acknowledges publicly.

The young man . . .

Mel Gibson.

His life was the inspiration for his production of the movie "The Man Without A Face." He is to be admired by all of us as a God fearing man, a political conservative, and an example to all as a true man of courage.

Origins: This piece, which began circulating in the latter half of the year 2000, is neither an accurate description of actor/director Mel Gibson's early life nor a transcription of a radio piece by commentator Paul Harvey. Suffice it to say that someone took the framework of Mel Gibson's biography and built upon it a touching but completely fictitious house of glurge.

Mel Gibson's father did move his family from New York to Sydney, Australia, when Mel was 12, but the similarities between this piece and Mel's real life end there. Young Mel wasn't dreaming of "joining the circus as a trapeze artist"; he was a Catholic high school student mulling over the possibilities of becoming a chef or a journalist and ended up enrolling in the University of New South Wales' National Institute of Dramatic Art. Young Mel had a role in the low-budget film Summer City while still a student and then appeared in a number of productions with the State Theatre Company of South Australia before the lucky break that catapulted him to stardom: being chosen for the lead role in George Miller's action film Mad Max.

A little bit of truth may have sneaked into the story quoted above at this point. The night before his Mad Max audition, Gibson reportedly came in a poor second in a barroom brawl, ending up with a face "like a busted grapefruit." He then had to audition for the Mad Max role with a bruised, swollen, discolored, and freshly stitched face — an appearance that, legend has it, helped win over producers who wanted someone weathered and rough-looking to take the part. The beating Gibson received did not, however, leave him with "smashed eye sockets," fracture his "skull, legs, and arms," result in the loss of "all his teeth" or a nose that was "hanging from his face" or a "jaw almost completely torn from his skull." He didn't spend "over a year in the hospital," nor did five years pass with Mel in agony before "plastic surgery restored his looks." His face got smashed up a bit, he required a few stitches to close some open cuts, and a few weeks later he was good as new. (However, some Hollywood pundits maintain that even the milder "barroom brawl" version was a bit of fiction invented by a publicist.)

Mel Gibson did direct and star in The Man Without a Face, a 1993 film about a man who became a recluse after his face was disfigured in an automobile accident, but the movie was based upon a novel by Isabelle Holland, not Mel Gibson's life.

Many of our readers have sworn to us they heard Paul Harvey recite this piece, exactly as reproduced above, on one of his broadcasts. Paul Harvey did offer a "Rest of the Story" segment about Mel Gibson on 24 June 2000, and it was a typically (for Paul Harvey) exaggerated version of the truth, but it didn't come close to the glurge reproduced here. What he reported, verbatim, was this:

In all his years as a cop, Ollie Gerrick had never seen a beating case like the one before him. The boy's face was smashed in. His partner say he wouldn't survive. The ambulance arrived and took him to the hospital and when he came to, the doctors told him the rest of the story. He was in the hospital and then he remembered that night in the bar. It was late the next night that the young man remembered he had an important appointment. He realized it was tomorrow. He struggled to get out of bed but the nurse restrained him. The next morning, he got out of bed and looked in the mirror and he didn't recognize himself. Nevertheless, he went on to the job interview. Despite the bar fight in October of 1977. He showed up for a role in a movie and the producers were looking for someone unknown who was really tough looking. He got the role they were casting for. They were looking for someone to play the rugged role of Mad Max and this Australian with the beaten up face went on to become one of our best modern-day actors. We know him as Mel Gibson, and now you know the rest of the story.
And now you know . . . the real story.


46 Days Until Tennessee Exposes The Urban Myth In Gainesville
 
Just when you thought it was gone.......

Claim: A lovelorn actor portraying one of the munchkins hanged himself on the set during the filming of The Wizard of Oz, and his death was captured on-camera and used in the final print.

Origins: The so-called "munchkin suicide" scene occurs at the very end of the Tin Woodsman sequence, as Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Woodsman head down the road on their way to the Emerald City. This sequence begins with Dorothy and the Scarecrow trying to pick fruit from the talking apple trees, encompasses their discovery of the rusted tin man and their encounter with the Wicked Witch of the West (who tries to set the Scarecrow on fire), and ends with the trio heading off to Oz in search of the Wizard. To give the indoor set used in this sequence a more "outdoors" feel, several birds of various sizes were borrowed from the Los Angeles Zoo and allowed to roam the set. (A peacock, for example, can be seen wandering around just outside the Tin Woodsman's shack while Dorothy and the Scarecrow attempt to revive him with oil.) At the very end of this sequence, as the three main characters move down the road and away from the camera, one of the larger birds (often said to be an emu, but more probably a crane) standing at the back of the set moves around and spreads its wings. No munchkin, no hanging -- just a big bird.

The unusual movement in the background of the scene described above was noticed years ago, and it was often attributed to a stagehand's accidentally being caught on the set after the cameras started rolling (or, more spectacularly, a stagehand's falling out of a prop tree into the scene). With the advent of home video, viewing audiences were able to rewind and replay the scene in question, view it in slow-motion, and look at individual frames in the sequence (all on screens smaller and less distinct than those of theaters), and imaginations ran wild. The change in focus of the rumor from a hapless stagehand to a suicidal munchkin (driven to despair over his unrequited love for a female munchkin) seems to have coincided with the heavy promotion and special video re-release of The Wizard of Oz in celebration of its 50th anniversary in 1989: someone made up the story of a diminutive actor who, suffering the pangs of unrequited love for a female "little person," decided to end it all right there on the set, and soon everyone was eager to share this special little film "secret" with others. Since (grossly exaggerated) tales of munchkin lechery and drunken misbehavior on the "Oz" set had been circulating for years (primarily spread by Judy Garland herself in television talk show appearances), the wild suicide story had some seeming background plausibility to it. (Other versions of the rumor combined elements from both explanations, such as the claim that the strange figure was actually a stagehand hanging himself.)

The logistics of this alleged hanging defy all credulity. First of all, the forest scenes in The Wizard of Oz were filmed before the Munchkinland scenes, and thus none of the munchkin actors would have been present. And whether one believes that the figure on the film is a munchkin or a stagehand, it is simply impossible that a human being could have fallen onto a set actively being used for filming, and yet none of the dozens of people present -- actors, directors, cameramen, sound technicians, light operators -- failed to notice or react to the occurrence. (The tragic incident would also had to have been overlooked by all the directors, editors, film cutters, musicians, and others who worked on the film in post-production as well.) That anyone could believe a scene featuring a real suicide would have been left intact in a classic film for over fifty years is simply incredible.

Speaking of suicide........

45 Days Until The Vols Assist The Urban Myth In Committing Career Suicide.
 
Claim: Ronald Reagan was the actor originally chosen to play the role of Rick Blaine in Casablanca.

Example: [Collected on the Internet, 2000]
Here is some interesting trivia on the movie: Ronald Reagan was originally slated to play Humphrey Bogart's character, Rick Blaine. George Raft was Warner Bros. second choice.

Origins: It's one of the most ubiquitous pieces of "What if?" alternative Hollywood history: Humphrey Bogart almost missed out on the role that established him as a first-rank movie star, and one of the mostly highly-regarded films in the canon of American cinema nearly turned out quite differently, because the studio's original choice for the starring role was someone else — a B-list actor who four decades later would become president of the United States. That is, none other than Ronald Reagan.

It's a fascinating piece of trivia that has been casually mentioned and cited in countless books, articles, sound bites, and quiz shows for years now. And it's wrong. Every bit of it. Ronald Reagan was never considered for any role in Casablanca, not even tentatively, and no actor other than Humphrey Bogart was ever seriously considered for the role of Rick Blaine. And "the studio" (Warner Bros.) had no "first choice" for the role, because the choice was not theirs to make.

The Casablanca saga began on 27 December 1941 when the rights to an unproduced play entitled "Everybody Comes to Rick's" were purchased for $20,000 at the behest of Hal Wallis, then head of production at Warner Bros. Two weeks later, however, Wallis signed a contract with Jack Warner that ended his status as a Warner Bros. employee and made him the head of his own film unit, Hal Wallis Productions. As an independent producer, Wallis agreed to make four films per year for Warner Bros. in exchange for a 10% share of the profits they garnered, and Casablanca was one of the six films Wallis would produce under the terms of that contract in 1942.

The legend of Ronald Reagan as Rick Blaine springs from a press release that the Warner Bros. publicity office planted with The Hollywood Reporter on 5 January 1942 (and released to dozens of newspapers across the country two days later):

Ann Sheridan and Ronald Reagan co-star for the third time in Warners' Casablanca, with Dennis Morgan also coming in for top billing. Yarn of war refugees in French Morocco is based on an unproduced play by Murray Burnett and Joan Alison. That's it. The sum total of Ronald Reagan's involvement with Casablanca was this planted press release — an item that was nothing but pure hokum, for a variety of reasons:
At the time of this press release, the first line of the first draft of the screenplay for the movie that would become Casablanca had yet to be written. (The initial set of writers wouldn't even be assigned to the project until four days later.) Hal Wallis had two films going into production ahead of Casablanca to worry about, so he had not yet made any casting decisions, not even preliminary ones.

This press release was not intended to convey factual information. Under the old studio system, when actors were bound to specific studios by contract, those studios had a vested interest in keeping the names of their stars in the news, and one of the ways this was accomplished was by planting items such as this one with cooperative film industry trade publications and other news outlets. Ronald Reagan and Ann Sheridan had already made two movies together, and this press release was a way of garnering some extra publicity for their previous film (King's Row), which was about to be released. (Just a couple of weeks earlier, Warner Bros. had planted a similar item with the Los Angeles Times stating that Ann Sheridan and Dennis Morgan would be starring in Aloha Means Goodbye, a movie that was retitled Across the Pacific and made with Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor playing the lead roles.) In fact, the day after this press release appeared in the newspapers, Warner Bros. hastily announced that because of changes in their production schedule all three actors (Reagan, Sheridan, and Morgan) had been reassigned to appear in the film Shadow of Their Wings (which was eventually produced, without Reagan, as Wings for the Eagle) instead.

Ronald Reagan couldn't possibly have played the lead in Casablanca even if Hal Wallis had wanted him for the part. Reagan was already a second lieutenant in the Army Reserve for whom the studio had been obtaining deferments for months, and once the United States entered World War II on 8 December 1941 there was no chance Warners could prevent him from being called up to active duty long enough to finish Casablanca, which wasn't scheduled to begin production until April 1942. (Reagan had already been slated for a role in Desperate Journey beginning in early February 1942, and he barely stayed with the studio long enough to complete that movie in April. Nonetheless, true to form, Warners planted yet another item in The Hollywood Reporter on 23 March 1942 announcing that Reagan would be starring in Buffalo Bill, a film that was made a year later with Joel McCrea handling the lead.)

Producer Hal Wallis never seriously considered anyone but Humphrey Bogart for the part of Rick Blaine. On 14 February 1942, he had advised Warners to "please figure on Humphrey Bogart for Casablanca," and in a memo he wrote to studio head Jack Warner on 3 April 1942 he stated that "Bogart is ideal for [Casablanca], and it is being written for him . . ."

(Note that even the planted January 1942 press release never actually claimed that Ronald Reagan had been cast as Rick Blaine, the part eventually played by Humphrey Bogart; it said only that Reagan would be co-starring in Casablanca. One could surmise that Reagan might have been slated to play the part of resistance leader Victor Laszlo while Dennis Morgan took the role of Rick Blaine, although that scenario would have been rather unlikely.)

Any claims that some other actor such as Ronald Reagan or George Raft was "the studio's [first] choice" for the role of Rick Blaine stem from a misunderstanding of how Casablanca came to be made. The film was the product of an independent production company (Hal Wallis Productions) whose head (Hal Wallis) had agreed to make films for Warner Bros. and had "first call and right to use the services of any director, actor or actress, writer . . . who may be under contract or employed to render services" to the studio. Warners was contractually obligated to make available to Wallis anyone in their employ whom he wanted to use in his films, but Wallis, as an independent producer, was not obligated to accept any creative input whatsoever (including casting directions) from Warner Bros. Studio head Jack Warner might cajole, wheedle, plead, or even try to force Wallis' hand by claiming that the actors Wallis wanted to use were unavailable due to their being tied up with other projects, but the creative decisions for Casablanca were completely in the hands of Hal Wallis, an independent producer who was not directly employed by Warner Bros. Jack Warner did try to placate a troublesome George Raft (who had continually defied the studio by turning down the roles assigned to him) by suggesting that Wallis use him for the part of Rick Blaine, but Wallis curtly rebuffed the suggestion.

The success of many a film or film career has been spurred by ample helpings of happenstance, fortuitous timing, or unforeseen circumstances. Luck had much to do with Casablanca's ultimate success, but not in the matter of its lead role.

Here's Looking at 44 Days Until Tennessee Exposes The Urban Myth, Kid.
 
Can he keep it up for 44 more days? That is the question.
 
Claim: Michael Jackson's phone number was contained in the Universal Product Code (UPC) number used on the "Thriller" abum cover.

Origins: Yeah, like the Michael Jackson who walks around in public disguised with a surgical mask is really going to broadcast his private phone number to millions of record buyers.

This rumor started in early 1984, when Michael Jackson was at the height of his popularity, riding the crest of the "Thriller" album's tidal wave of sales. According to the rumor, the first seven digits of the album's UPC were Michael Jackson's phone number. Would-be callers were left to divine the area code by themselves, and many of them did -- using their local area code, the area code for Encino, California (where Jackson lived), or the toll-free '800' area code. Callers who opted for the '800' area code somehow got through to the residence of a woman named Barbara Brown in Youngstown, Ohio, who started receiving upwards of a dozen calls a day after Jackson won eight Grammy awards in February. Nearly everyone in the USA who had the same seven-digit phone number (in different area codes) received calls asking for Michael Jackson; the Bellevue Hair Studio in Bellevue, Washington, reportedly fielded fifty phone calls per day at the rumor's height. (Just a few years earlier, Tommy Tutone's song "Jenny (867-5309)" had driven phone customers with that number to distraction as well.)

Exactly how the rumor began is unknown, outside of the general public's fascination for finding hidden meanings in album covers and UPC markings. Some reports claimed the rumor was being spread by MTV, but MTV's public relations manager stated that the network had never broadcast any such information. Although this rumor's specific origins are unknown, the choice of the mysterious and reclusive (and undeniably odd) Michael Jackson as its subject is certainly easy to understand.

43 More Days Until The Vols, In a Thriller, Expose The Urban Myth!
 
Originally posted by milohimself@Aug 5, 2005 12:25 AM
Well, seeing Florida dominated by the Vols would be a thrill for us ;)
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Thank you. Glad to see atleast SOMEONE here is a master of the obvious. :thumbsup:
 
Too early. I think you are going to have to wait until the FINAL COUNTDOWN for that.

Stay Tuned!
 
I'll bet you thought I was gonna forget......

Claim: The expression "hoity-toity" comes from the French words haut toit, meaning "high roof."

The expression "hoity-toity," for "pretentious," comes from the French haut toit -- high roof -- from which the pretentious looked down on the literally "lower" classes.

Origins: In common speech, "hoity-toity" is an adjective used with disdain to refer to the pretentious, those who put on a show of pretending to possess refinement and sophistication (similar to "highfalutin"). So, some people naturally assume that such an unusual expression, referring to the cultured (even if they are falsely so), must itself have a cultured origin -- in this case a French-language reference to the upper class.

"Hoity-toity" has nothing to do with French (or the French), however. The expression comes from our penchant for creating rhyming phrases such as "loosey-goosey" or "helter-skelter," and in this case its base is "hoit," a 16th century verb whose meaning is "to play the fool" or "to indulge in riotous and noisy mirth." ("Hoity-toity" was more commonly used to describe those who engaged in thoughtlessly silly or frivolous behavior before it became more of a synonym for "pretentious.") Attempts to find the word "haughty" an ancestor of "hoity-toity" are equally specious.

Les Jours de Fourty-deux(42) jusqu'à ce que Tennessee Expose Le Mythe Urbain

 
Claim: The Southern California community of Tarzana was so named after the famous "ape man" character created by Edgar Rice Burroughs, one of the town's early residents.

Origins: Edgar Rice Burroughs, the creator of Tarzan, was born in Chicago in 1875. After being booted out of the Phillips Academy in Andover, Mass., Burroughs attended Orchard Lake Michigan Military Academy and later served in the cavalry for nearly a year in Arizona. Bored with army life, Burroughs obtained a discharge, got married, went off to mine for gold in Idaho, joined the police force in Salt Lake City, worked as an accountant, and returned to Chicago to work in the stenographic department at Sears, Roebuck before finally trying his hand at fiction. Burroughs sold his first "Tarzan" story to a magazine in 1912 but continued to move around as his book-length Tarzan efforts were turned down by all the publishers he contacted. Burroughs and his wife spent the winter of 1913 in San Diego, then returned to the Chicago suburb of Oak Park before the A.C. McClurg Co. published Burroughs' first book, Tarzan of the Apes, in 1914. The response was phenomenal, and Burroughs went on to pen twenty-three Tarzan novels in all.

In 1910, however, several years before he achieved success as a writer, Burroughs had purchased 550 acres in the heart of Southern California's San Fernando Valley. (Burroughs later wrote that the Valley represented "all that was good and wholesome in Southern California, in contrast to big, bad Hollywood.") He dubbed his land "Tarzana Ranch," after the sleepy little community in which it was situated, and his creation of a character named "Tarzan" two years later can hardly be considered a coincidence. Because Tarzana did not become an "official" community with its own post office until 1930 the legend has arisen that the town was named after Burroughs' ape man, but actually the reverse is true. Had Burroughs lived a few miles to the west, in the Topanga Canyon, we would undoubtedly know his immortal creation as "Topang, the ape man" instead.

Me, Vol Fan, You, Urban Myth. The Countdown Continues At 41 Days.
 
Thought I had updated it didn't you......well, I'll put today's on, a little later.
 
Claim: The Ohio Players' recording of the song "Love Rollercoaster" includes the scream of a murdered woman.

Examples:
[Collected on the Internet, 1996]
The cover of the album ("Honey" by the Ohio Players) depicts a nude model kneeling atop what appears to be a sheet of glass, dripping honey all over herself from a ladle suspended above her head. The original UL was that the glass was actually Fiberglas (or some other synthetic), which reacted chemically with the honey, bonding her skin, like Superglue, to the Fiberglas. Freeing her ripped the skin off her legs, and her career as a model was ruined. Sooooo... she just happens to burst in to the recording studio while the Ohio Players are recording "Rollercoaster," and starts threatening to sue the band for everything they're worth. The band's manager stabs her to death right there in the control booth, and that's the scream you hear in the song.

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[Collected on the Internet, 1996]
Remember the "classic" song "Love Roller Coaster" by the Ohio Players? Well the rumor going around the Passaic, NJ YWCA was that one of the screams in the song was that of a real woman being murdered. Apparently, the song was recorded in the band's apartment, and a woman was being killed by an intruder.
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[Collected on the Internet, 1996]
Someone brought up something to me yesterday regarding a 70's song called "Roller Coaster". I don't remember a thing about the song, but I do remember my brother telling me (I was about eight or younger at the time), that a scream in the background of the song was recorded inadvertantly, and was actually a cleaning woman screaming as she was stabbed during the recording of the song.


Variations: The site of the murder varies: an apartment (adjacent to the one in which the band is recording), just outside the studio, in an adjacent studio, inside the control room, and within the studio itself.

The identify of the dead woman also varies: an unknown victim, a cleaning woman, the girlfriend of one of the group members, or the model who posed for the album cover.

Some versions of this legend claim that the scream is a real but pre-recorded one (taken from tapes of inmates undergoing shock therapy at a local institution or a 911 emergency call).

Origins: It's a metaphor: love as a roller coaster ride. Both involve their fair share of screaming, so when the Ohio Players recorded their 1975 hit "Love Rollercoaster," they naturally incorporated a real scream into the track. In the 1970s you couldn't just do something like that simply because it made sense, though, so it wasn't long before wildly improbable stories about the origin of the scream began to circulate by word of mouth, aided by an army of disk jockeys eager to pass along a juicy (if apocryphal) anecdote.

The rumors that postulated the scream was a real one taken from an external source (a psychiatric hospital or 911 emergency tape) were the more plausible ones. Other explanations had the band recording in an apartment building (where a woman was conveniently murdered next door), microphones picking up the scream from a violent crime committed outside the recording studio (so much for that "soundproof studio" idea), or a band member stabbing his girlfriend (or a cleaning woman) to death in the studio as the tape rolled (presumably hoping to be the first person to simultaneously hit #1 on both the Billboard singles chart and the FBI's Most Wanted list).

The most outrageous rumor had to do with the cover of the album on which "Love Rollercoaster" appeared. Entitled Honey, the album's daring (for its time) outer cover featured a nude Playboy model lapping honey from a jar with a clear plastic spoon, while the inner gatefold sleeve pictured her covered with the sticky golden liquid.

According to the legend, the model was horribly burned by the honey (because it was heated to make it flow more freely) or suffered excruciating pain when it was removed (because it was actually a form of liquid plastic that took huge chunks of her skin with it when it was removed), and her screams of agony are what is heard on the finished product. (Apparently the Ohio Players were experimenting with rush record production techniques that had the recording of the album's music occurring in the studio simultaneous with the creation of the album's cover art.) A related version had the badly scarred model show up at the studio to demand compensation for her injuries just as the band was recording "Love Rollercoaster," and their manager deftly handled the situation by killing her on the spot.

In truth, the scream in question does seem a bit out of place: it's a feminine voice amidst a group of male singers, it's buried low in the mix, and it does sound like the cry of a woman in terror rather than that of a "thrilled-to-be-scared" amusement park customer. It's not hard to imagine how easily people receptive to rumor could be convinced that this sound didn't belong on the track, but had inadvertently slipped in.

The real source of the scream -- and the origins of the rumor -- were explained by Ohio Player Jimmy "Diamond" Williams:

There is a part in the song where there's a breakdown. It's guitars and it's right before the second verse and Billy Beck does one of those inhaling-type screeches like Minnie Ripperton did to reach her high note or Mariah Carey does to go octaves above. The DJ made this crack and it swept the country. People were asking us, 'Did you kill this chick in the studio?' The band took a vow of silence because that makes you sell more records."

As Mr. Williams suggests, mystery and scandal is good for record sales and radio play, so why ruin a good thing by 'fessing up to the truth? Instead, take a "vow of silence" and watch the money roll in.

40 Days Until Tennessee Murders Florida's Urban Myth
 
Claim: Actor Don Knotts once served as a drill instructor in the U.S. Marines.

Example: [Collected on the Internet, 2003]

I heard that Don Knotts was the most feared drill instructor on Parris Island during World War II


Origins: Positing improbable military backgrounds for popular entertainment figures is a common urban legend motif these days. Such tales don't merely put stars in uniform as ordinary servicemen — these questionable claims establish the unlikeliest of entertainers as combat-tested veterans who have displayed high levels of skill, courage, and toughness. Thus we have legends positioning pop singer John Denver as a Vietnam-era Army sniper, gentle children's host Fred Rogers as a tattooed marksmen with a plethora of confirmed kills, and Bob Keeshan (better known to generations of TV-watching youngsters as Captain Kangaroo) as a hero of the World War II battle for Iwo Jima. (Of the three, only Keeshan actually served in the military, and he saw no combat action.)

Another legend of this ilk casts Don Knotts, best known as the bumbling deputy sheriff Barney Fife on The Andy Griffith Show and the pop-eyed, leisure-suited landlord Ralph Furley on Three's Company, as not just the unlikeliest serviceman since Gomer Pyle, but as the toughest and most fearsome of all military figures: a U.S. Marine drill instructor.

The only connection between legend and real life in this case is that Don Knotts did serve in the military. Born the youngest of four brothers in Morgantown, West Virginia, in 1924, young Don Knotts embarked on an entertainment career by performing as a ventriloquist at local venues; after high school he tried a brief stint in New York City and took a stab at attending West Virginia University before being drafted by the Army in mid-1943. Although the U.S. was in the midst of fighting World War II at the time, Don Knotts saw no combat (and was certainly not a drill sergeant) — he was tapped for a special services unit and spent his hitch touring the Pacific Islands to entertain troops as a comedian in a G.I. variety show. After the war he ditched ventriloquism in favor of comedy, landed small spots in radio and on Broadway, and worked his way up the entertainment ladder to more prominent comedic roles in television and movies. (His portrayal of Barney Fife eventually won him five consecutive Emmy awards for Best Supporting Actor in a television series.) Don Knotts also had one other military connection of the cinematic variety: he played the character of Corporal John C. Brown in stage and film versions of No Time for Sergeants.

Why so many rumors about entertainers as military figures? The prevalence of this legend type can probably be attributed to the appeal of imagining popular stars as the polar opposites of their on-stage personas: Just as we're intrigued by the notion that macabre rocker Marilyn Manson once portrayed the geeky Paul Pfeiffer character on TV's The Wonder Years, so we're fascinated with the notion that a slight, skinny man best known for playing a series of fumbling, high-strung, nervous characters was once one of World War II's "most feared drill instructors." Legends like these confirm the belief that we never know what improbable paths life might lead us down and that appearances can be deceiving.

"I can't hear you!!" Sir, yes sir. Only 39 More Days Until Tennessee Exposes Florida's Urban Myth, Sir!
 
Claim: Sesame Street muppets Bert and Ernie are live-in lovers, and they're about to get married.

Origins: It has long been whispered that Sesame Street's Bert and Ernie are gay. At various times the rumor has escalated into their actually getting married on the show, this event either being planned for a future episode or said to have happened on a previous one.

Bert and Ernie are not married. They're not even homosexual (if indeed it's possible for mere puppets to be sexual). They are nothing but well-loved puppets from a hugely popular children's TV series.

Media stories along the lines of "Here are some silly rumors making the rounds" are often misremembered and later recalled as true stories. There seems to be a strong need to believe that figures adored by kids aren't all sweetness and light; that they are instead "trading on their popularity to influence our children with their lifestyle."

Who are Bert and Ernie, anyway? They're muppets. More to the point, they're cute, lovable characters whom children love to watch and laugh with. As popular figures, they have the power to teach and to influence. That is indeed what's at the bottom of these rumors, the fear that wide-eyed children will end up absorbing values different from those their parents wanted them to learn, and that parental moral leadership will be undermined by turning children over to Sesame Street's care for an hour each day.

The shift in the standard rumor of gayness to include its subjects actually getting married is, I think, a reflection of the times. Urban legends are often about our fears and concerns; fretting that Bert and Ernie might be heading for the altar is an expression of society's unease with the concept of same-sex marriages. Whether or not same-sex marriages are a good idea is beside the point; mainstream America still largely feels they're not. The thought of two heartily approved of characters going through with such a plan is enough to galvanize parents everywhere into action against what they see as a threat. It's that old, familiar cry of "Our children are in danger!"

In early 1994, Rev. Joseph Chambers attempted to get the puppets banned under a little-used anti-gay law in the deep South. Referred to by the Daily Mirror as a "crackpot preacher from Charlotte, North Carolina," the preacher was said to have stormed on his radio show:

Bert and Ernie are two grown men sharing a house and a bedroom. They share clothes, eat and cook together and have blatantly effeminate characteristics.

The Children's Television Workshop has steadfastly denied rumors about Bert and Ernie's sexual orientation for about as long as they can remember. One of their oft-faxed prepared statements (this one from 1993) reads:

Bert and Ernie, who've been on Sesame Street for 25 years, do not portray a gay couple, and there are no plans for them to do so in the future. They are puppets, not humans. Like all the Muppets created for Sesame Street, they were designed to help educate preschoolers. Bert and Ernie are characters who help demonstrate to children that despite their differences, they can be good friends.

The Autumn 1993 tour of Sesame Street Live provoked yet another twist to the marriage rumor: Bert and Ernie's wedding would be part of the show. Calls flooded both the Children's Television Workshop and many of the venues where the 90-minute musical was scheduled to play. Needless to say, a marriage was never part of the planned festivities.

Though it's impossible to pin down where the "Bert and Ernie are gay" rumor began, one potential source is The Real Thing, a 1980 Doubleday book by Kurt Andersen. In this book (which purports to be "A guide to separating the genuine from the ersatz, the men from the boys, and the wheat from the chaff"), Andersen makes the whimsical claim that among homosexuals, Bert and Ernie are "the Real Thing":

Bert and Ernie conduct themselves in the same loving, discreet way that millions of gay men, women and hand puppets do. They do their jobs well and live a splendidly settled life together in an impeccably decorated cabinet.

Could this cheeky comment have been the genesis of the rumor that now so plagues Sesame Street?

38 More "Sunny Days" Until Tennessee Takes Florida's Urban Myth Away.
 
Claim: Casinos pump extra oxygen onto the gaming floors during the early-morning hours to keep tired patrons from heading off to bed.

Origins: That's but one of the many false bits of casino lore. Gambling is a multi-million dollar industry. With that many bucks going through the system and so many ordinary folks involved, it's spawned a host of legends about it.

In 1993 a story about a thieving blackjack dealer was in circulation. One day while raking in the gamblers' silver dollars, he thought to drop a dollar down his leg and into the top of his cowboy boot. The dollar slipped in beautifully; nobody noticed. More dollars followed, and at the end of his shift, he walked away with an extra $20 in his boot.

Greed was his downfall though. The next day he slid all of $200 down his pants leg and into his footwear. When he turned to leave the table at the end of his shift, the heavy boot gave him away -- he tripped and all the coins came spilling out.

There are many legends about near misses, tragic tales of a fortune almost realized. The huge Megabucks jackpots have created their own lore. (For the uninitiated, Megabucks is a network of linked progressive slot machines whose jackpot starts out at $7 million and continues to grow until someone gets lucky.) As the jackpot increases, more whispers about near misses circulate -- the player who lined up all the symbols at the Tropicana but was playing only a dollar at a time instead of the three ("full coin") needed to chase the prize, the lad who hit the right combination at the Mirage but wasn't paid because he was found to be gambling underage (see note in next paragraph), the blackjack dealer at the Rio who scored the big win only to belatedly discover casino employees were ineligible, the old lady at the Monte Carlo who realized her dream of winning a fortune and moments later keeled over, the victim of a fatal heart attack. (Shades of Vegas Vacation and Sid Caesar kicking the bucket after hitting a $30,000 keno jackpot, that.) The names of the casinos are interchangable as these occurences are said to have happened at every place in Las Vegas. None of them did, prior to March 2001.

(Underage gamblers have been refused jackpots, just never a Megabucks one. In 1989 a Nevada court denied 19-year-old Kirk Erickson a $1,061,812 jackpot he'd hit at Caesar's Palace in 1987.)

On 14 March 2001, Kirk Tolman, a 22-year-old Utah man, mistakenly played two coins instead of the Megabucks-requisite three on a machine at the State Line Hotel and Casino in Wendover, a gambling establishment in Nevada just across the Utah state line. The Megabucks symbols lined up on the payline, and for want of a dollar, $7.9 million was lost. The $10,000 consolation prize probably wasn't all that consoling to the man whose distracting chat with a friend had led to his not dropping the third coin into play.

A further bit of Megabucks lore confidently states that the jackpot will be hit at the newest resort casino in operation. Savvy frequent visitors to Las Vegas will sagely nod as they inform you the next Megabucks is "set to go" at the newest glitz palace in town. That too is hogwash. Where the jackpot is hit is determined by pure chance and not by anyone high up in the casino industry paying off IGT for the prestige of having one of its machines hit. If the Megabucks jackpot appears to be awarded more often at the newer casinos, it's due to them being better attended -- more people through the casino means more people playing the machines. The more people who play the machines at any one casino, the greater the chances the jackpot will be hit there. And that's all there is to it.

A newer casino whisper brings the focus back onto the players. A 1997 legend has it that casinos are forced to regularly replace their carpets because Asian players won't leave the games long enough to take a bathroom break. On the same theme, there are tales about gamblers wearing Depends underwear rather than risk losing their lucky machine to an interloper.

37 More Days Until The Urban Legends Pisses Away UF's Season.
 
An ESPN.com story on Urban Meyer's offense includes this little tidbit of information:

"If you want a more detailed tutorial, get in line. Coaches who make a pilgrimage to learn from Meyer or Sanford don't get much. Texas A&M, Oregon and Louisiana-Monroe are the only staffs that either Meyer or Sanford allowed to come in for a tutorial, according to Sanford."

Bodes well for the Vols if Texas A&M's offense is similar to UM's . . .
 

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