Because of Hollywood Squares, the perma-tanned George Hamilton is one of those guys that is burned into my brain, even though I usually forget what else I've seen him in. (The same goes for ol' Jim J.) Still, he's a face of the '80s and the thought of a dramedy about a childhood adventure he had sounds all sorts of cool. In February, Jessica posted that Renee Zellweger was joining My One and Only, and now Variety reports that Chris Noth, the infamous Mr. Big, will co-star.

The film is based on a story that Hamilton once told Merv Griffin -- about traveling on the road with his mother and brother. (As a child, George lived in Memphis, Arkansas, LA, Boston, New York, and Palm Beach.) Zellweger will play Anne Deveraux -- a woman roaming from city to city to find a wealthy man to become husband and father. Noth will play "a retired military doctor who might just fit the bill." It could be a pretty funky tale, especially since it will jump back in time, based in the '50s.

However, Charlie Peters wrote the script, which has me a little apprehensive; his resume includes Blame it on Rio, Her Alibi, 3 Men and a Little Lady, and Krippendorf's Tribe -- not exactly the best collection of films. Richard Loncraine (Band of Brothers), meanwhile, will direct the film, which heads into production next month.

It goes to show that sometimes the most interesting stories can come from some unlikely places. Variety reports that Renee Zellweger is in talks to star in the family 'dramedy', My One and Only. "Set in the 1950s, the comedy focuses on the glamorous Anne Deveraux (Zellweger) as she drives down the Eastern seaboard from city to city in a quixotic search for a wealthy man to fund a new life for her and her sons".

Now here is where it gets a little strange. It turns out the story is based on the childhood experiences of the perpetually tanned George Hamilton. Hamilton had told the story to TV producer Merv Griffin, who must have seen some feature film potential. If nothing else, Zellweger might be able to score an Oscar nod for playing a self-absorbed socialite mom -- just think of the histrionics she could perform on screen.

Zellweger seems to enjoy working on period pieces; and right after the 20's sports comedy Leatherheads hits theaters on April 4th, she'll most likely be heading back to the past just one more time. Charlie Peters has already produced a finished script, and Richard Loncraine has been signed to direct. Peters is a writer director, and is responsible for a few so-so family comedies including 3 Men and a Little Lady and Krippendorf's Tribe. Loncraine has a more diverse resume, and most recently was at the helm for the Harrison Ford action flick, Firewall. So the writer director-combo might look a little strange, but keep in mind, it's a strange story.

He was the man who literally jumped the shark. Among the feats of the one and only Evel Knievel was riding his motorcycle over a tank of sharks. It was his last grandstanding stunt, which broke both his arms and gave him a concussion. The Australian Age obit may be the best-- naturally, they appreciated a man of Knievel's peculiar talents Down Under. This one from the OC Register in Orange County gives a more chronological account of Knievel's crashes, as well as as a tribute from a US Congressman. Somewhere I read that Knievel said that he'd broken every bone in his body except for the stirrups in his ears. This was a lie, it was only either 35 or 40 bones. It is of course a downbeat ending to be carried off by a treacherous liver (that terrible Hep C) and something called "idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis." ("Idiopathic" is your doctor's word for "damned if we know what caused it or how to treat it".)

Knievel's memory is burnished by today's generation of 1970s worshippers. He lives on in cultural spaces as varied as Kayne West videos (Knievel was not to be sampled for free) and the ineffable Hot Rod. Steve Mandich's stunningly well-researched webpage shows the remarkable amount of bands and songs named after the daredevil. Mandich also provides the tidbit that Kurt Cobain said that Knievel was his only hero. (College radio disc jockeys, looking at this huge roster of songs and bands, may be overwhelmed with riches: one recommends the real prize in this list, the 1974 Amherst album Evel Knievel. Ebay has a sealed and autographed copy for a mere $100. but there's bound to be other copies floating about for cheap. "Why?" by Knievel is a spoken-word song over guitar and harmonica, in which he tries to explain his penchant for jumping his Harley over everything from a pit of rattlesnakes to the Snake River Canyon. Having no c-note to blow on the record, I spent 99 cents the day after Knievel died to pick up a DVD of Evel Knievel (1971) at the Grocery Outlet. Surprise: it's pretty good!