This just in: Martians land in New Jersey (again!)

Martians landed at Grovers Mill, N.J., on this date in 1938.

They arrived again tonight at 8 p.m. (EDT) in celebration of the 75th anniversary of "War of the Worlds."

Of course, I refer to the most famous (or infamous) radio broadcast in American history, the Mercury Theater On The Air production of the H.G. Wells story spearheaded by the legendary Orson Welles.

Debate rages over just how many people panicked. It matters not. Welles became a household name overnight and was soon off to Hollywood, to RKO, to "Citizen Kane," to his own tragic American tale.

Radio stations around the country rebroadcast Welles' "War" tonight during a two-hour special hosted by George "Sulu" Takei. The original CBS drama was followed by a documentary called "War of the Welles." PBS aired an "American Experience" special on the broadcast last night.

We are more sophisticated in 2013 and could quickly spot the ruse. Nothing could have transpired so quickly as it does in the show, a point that probably occurred to anybody who didn't go running away from the radio. It's to Welles' and the Mercury Theater players' credit that they pulled it off so well and that the broadcast is still riveting.

I do know from eyewitness accounts that frightened folks ran into Central Baptist Church of Fountain City 75 years ago tonight, interrupting the prayer meeting to bring news of the extraterrestrial invasion.

Amazing, isn't it?

Radio remains a near perfect medium for this kind of thing. It isn't as passive as television. You have your pictures of what's being described and so do I.

I listened to Jack Benny's radio show for years before I ever saw his TV program, which isn't often repeated. The television incarnation was a letdown. Jack's pregnant pauses were even funnier when one couldn't see them.

Go here sometime and listen to them, or to "Gunsmoke" or to "The Great Gildersleeve" or to "The Green Hornet."

You'll see -- no, scratch that, you'll hear -- what I mean.

'La Dolce Vita'

Tonight I'm basking in the orange glow of Rocky Top, watching Fellini's "La Dolce Vita" and sipping a Sam Adams. Everything goes down better with a Sam Adams, after all.

Watching Fellini is a little like reading Faulkner. You've got to work at it. But, it's worth the work.

Some time ago, I watched Orson Welles' "F For Fake," clearly influenced by Fellini, particularly his later farcical surrealism. That's worth a look, if you've never seen it.

My pal Ross Southerland showed me a series of shorts once, one directed by Fellini. Alas, I don't remember its name. Darn good cinema, though.

Roger Ebert turned me onto this film. Here's his review.

Fellini's film speaks to me, maybe in ways I don't quite understand. A journalist, frustrated he hasn't done more, caught in a place from which he can't escape. Don't get the idea I'm in that space. I'm not. I just don't want to be caught there. Forever. Wasting whatever talent I possess. It's so easy, you see, to see only toward tomorrow's deadline.

We were in New York last weekend. That city quickens my pulse. I feel alive, full of gravitas, living la dolce vita, indeed.

It's a fantasy, the lights and the literati and the lovely lives of Manhattan. I know that. And still I want it.

Oh, how I want to wake up at the Waldorf-Astoria, A-No.1, king of the hill, a best-seller for Bennett Cerf, a welcomed mystery guest on "What's My Line?"

That New York -- that life, indeed -- is forever gone. It left us somewhere between Vietnam and Watergate, the cultivated manners and the black tie and tails replaced by blue jeans and Justin Bieber. God help us.

But it isn't so bad. I can watch Fellini on my Blu-Ray on a Saturday night, sipping on a Sam Adams, heeding its warning, dreaming my dreams.

That, my friends, is something.

La dolce vita.

Late night nostalgia

Well, this sure puts my blog to shame...

People ask me all the time if I'd been happier had I been born a generation before my time. The short, simple answer is yes.

Honest answer, though, is no. I feel like I get the best of both worlds -- plenty of nostalgia, but with modern technology and convenience. I'd hate to think about putting together our newspapers without desktop computers, for example.

Anyway, to my point. Discovered last night while looking for something else classic clips from Dick Cavett's old late night ABC television show. Very quickly for those who don't know, Cavett was ABC's early '70s competition to Johnny Carson's beloved, ever-popular NBC program. Cavett was intelligent, quirky, and tended to attract eclectic guests -- everybody from Norman Mailer to John Lennon.

Found out, too, that Cavett writes a funny, erudite blog for the New York Times. It can be found at http://cavett.blogs.nytimes.com. Treat yourself to it for a few minutes.

A few days after the Swedish director Ingmar Bergman died, TCM played an entire interview Cavett did with him in the early '70s. I think it was Bergman's American TV debut. Happened to catch it one night when I couldn't sleep. It was fascinating stuff, light-years away from the drivel you'd get on Letterman or Leno.

Surely there's room for such intelligent talk on TV today. Oh, I think Charlie Rose comes close, even if he doesn't ask hard questions and lacks, or at least doesn't display, Cavett's offbeat sense of humor. But you'll never see anything like this (or even what's on Charlie Rose's engaging show) on the Big Four, at least not in the late night time slot.

Take a few minutes and perform a "Dick Cavett" search on YouTube if you get time. If you're a movie buff, be sure and watch the interviews with Orson Welles. That guy was a genius, I don't care what anybody says.

OK, that's enough for now. Peace out. Gotta get back to work.