Ellipses. . .Comics. . .& Other Non Sequiturs

Good morning--as Daily Variety’s Army Archerd would put it. For 2 1/2 years now I’ve been looking for an excuse to write one of those three-dot columns. . . .

Yes, that was four dots. But you know what I mean. Sort of like what Herb Caen does in San Francisco. Or what Allan Malamud does in The Times’ Sports section. The kind with paragraphs connected by little dots, like this:. . . . That’s an ellipsis plus a period, I guess. . . .

Ever read sports columnist Bud Tucker? He’d begin: “Nobody flew in on the noon balloon from Saskatoon and asked me, but . . .” Ever see Larry King’s column in USA Today? It’s so bad it’s good. . . .

The idea, it seems, is to mix bits of reportage with some trenchant observations. Reading ‘em is sort of like eating popcorn. And since you don’t need transitions, non sequiturs are fine. . . .

Which doesn’t remind me. . . .

Yours truly was a judge at the L.A. Cabaret’s 11th annual “Funniest Person in the Valley” contest last week. Owner Ray Bishop wasn’t able to persuade as many celebrities to come by this year. Unlike ‘94, there was no Milton Berle, no Shirley Jones. But a good time was had by most. . . .

Bishop welcomed everybody, pointing out that Tommy Davidson is a past winner. He was a star on “In Living Color.” And he proudly noted that since the humble L.A. Cabaret opened 16 years ago on Ventura Boulevard, such talents as Roseanne and Jim Carrey had polished their acts here. . . .

Emcee Fred Willard--remember him as Martin Mull’s sidekick on “Fernwood 2-Night”?--was in fine form. His job, he said, was to lay down the rules and provide discipline to make sure the event didn’t turn into a laugh riot. . . .

Among Willard’s rules: There would be no swimsuit competition. . . .

Willard introduced comic actor Ronnie Schell--remember him from the old “Gomer Pyle” sitcom?--and praised his service as honorary mayor of Encino. . . .

“He promised to remove all the smutty magazines from our community . . . Now he’s got quite a collection at home.” . . .

A rim shot, por favor. . . .

The honorary Hizzoner welcomed the audience to the San Fernando Valley: “One million people. Eight stories.” Then he introduced the judges, gamely waving at the no-shows. . . . “One hundred and twenty people are here tonight,” Schell announced. “Ray Bishop claims the count is 1,000.”. . .

Steven Jay might have wished he were somewhere else. He’s 6 feet, 6 inches tall and bald as a cue ball and wore a T-shirt that said “I want to be Barbie.”. . . .

Jay was the first of the finalists and, well, this wasn’t his night. . . .

Next up was Keith Nelson. Soon he was complaining about the ticket he got for jaywalking. “Can I go to walking school to get this off my record?”. . .

Quickly he established rapport. “If you date an Asian American and break up with them, then you’re dis-Oriented.” A small laugh, a few groans. So Nelson defiantly insisted the joke was funny: It was staying in the routine. . . .

Multiculturalism was a favorite topic. His ex-wife, he said, is Mexican. “We’d climax at the same time and say, ‘NAFTA!’ ”. . .

His dyslexic brother used to do acid. Instead of having flashbacks, he has flashforwards. . . .

He mocked Mississippians who say pigs are smart. A smart pig, Nelson said, is one that lives in Israel. . . .

And he imagines cows gathered at India’s border, desperately seeking asylum. . . .

Finally, Nelson noted that people often tell him he resembles Keith Richards. How flattering. Then he finished with his one-man imitation of the Rolling Stones. . . .

With the NAFTA joke, he had us. He put people in the mood to laugh. Keith Nelson became the man to beat. . . .

Up stepped Dominic Anthony, then Toby Bronson, Ron Ruhman and Pat Francis. Each had his moments. Bronson did a creative Travolta imitation, blending his roles from “Grease” and “Pulp Fiction.” Violent, sicko stuff. The younger people seemed to liked it. . . .

The judges tended to be older. The celebs included Pat McCormick, who used to write for Johnny Carson, and Jack Riley--remember the neurotic Mr. Carlin on the old “Bob Newhart Show?” Civic potentates who had ballots included big kahuna Bert Boeckmann, owner of Galpin Ford and president of the Police Commission, along with his wife, Jane, publisher of Valley Magazine. . . .

Hot scoop: Mr. and Mrs. Kahuna were seen laughing at some pretty naughty jokes. . . .

Francine Oschin--sounds like ocean , mind you--was there representing Councilman Hal Bernson’s office and Judith Hirschberg was representing Councilman Marvin Braude’s. Good thing Braude didn’t come. A few people lit cigarettes.. . .

Look-alikes: Allan Malamud’s column and mine. . . .

As the ballots were collected and tabulated, a few past winners took the stage. Just like last year, Christopher Sylbert, who has multiple sclerosis, slowly dragged himself to the mike with his metal walker. . . .

Took so long that Fred Willard went back to the mike and said he deliberately made the introduction before Chris was ready--”to make this moment as uncomfortable as possible.” . . . Finally, Chris Sylbert was ready. “Larry Parker got me two-point-one million dollars!” His favorite opener. Like last year, Sylbert got huge laughs with a raunchy routine built on the fantasy that his disability is the result of an extraordinary birth defect. Alas, the fantasy can’t be described in a family newspaper. . . .

I wrote about his triumph last year and covered an event earlier this year that was held to help him cover his medical expenses. . . .

He told me later, in all seriousness, some good news and some bad news. The good: He’s become a regular at the Laugh Factory. The owner, he says, even removed seats to accommodate a ramp so Chris can use his wheelchair. The bad: Although he is offered plenty of work, his flagging health prevents him from working as much as he’d like. . . .

The winners were announced. Nelson was first, Anthony second, Fisher third. Nelson won $1,000 and hopes of greater glory in stand-up, a very tough racket.. . .

A well-deserved victory, but as Chris Sylbert performed, Nelson must have been glad the rules don’t allow the reigning champ to defend his crown. . . .

I’m afraid my computer is running low on dots. In these economic times, perhaps we should go back to three. . .

Say good night, Gracie.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.