A graveyard smash: 10 things you may not know about "Monster Mash"

"Mash, good!": Bobby Pickett's song has been released many, many times over the last 50+ years.

An original pressing of the song.

Though there have been a few usurpers and pretenders to the throne over the years, including tracks by Alice Cooper and Danny Elfman among others, "Monster Mash" by Bobby "Boris" Pickett still stands as the official anthem of Halloween. Released in May 1962, the song hit #1 in October of that year and has been a staple of the season ever since.

The song's origins lie in an impression of British horror actor Boris Karloff which Pickett, a Korean War vet born in 1938, used to do in talent shows in his hometown of Somerville, Massachusetts, in the late 1950s after he'd gotten out of the Signal Core. "Every time I'd do it, I'd win," Pickett remembered. Later, Pickett moved to Hollywood with three of his Somerville buddies and formed a doo-wop group called the Cordials. Part of the group's act was a cover of "Little Darlin'," and Pickett liked to perform the spoken-word monologue in the middle of the song ("My darling, I need you...") in his Karloff voice. His bandmate, Leonard "Lenny" Capizzi, suggested that the voice would be perfect for a novelty record, and together the two wrote "Monster Mash." The rest? Well, you know.

Though he lived in the song's shadow for the rest of his life, Pickett didn't mind a bit. "Let's just say," he told the Washington Post in 2004, "that it has paid the rent for 43 years." In interviews, Pickett frequently compared himself to Guy Lombardo, the bandleader forever associated with "Auld Lang Syne" and New Year's Eve. Pickett happily performed the song at small venues until he died in 2007. So now, let us venture into the lab once again and learn a few things about this crucial piece of Americana.

(today's zomby) AND AN EQUALLY UNFUNNY UNSOLD TV PILOT!

What can I say, folks? They can't always be funny. Speaking of which...

Lately, I've been reading a fascinating book called Saturday Night: A Backstage History of Saturday Night Live by Doug Hill and Jeff Weingrad. It came out in 1986 and covers in great detail the early years of SNL -- the controversy, the backbiting, the infighting, the truly staggering intake of cocaine, etc. I'm just at the part when the original SNL is ending after five tumultuous seasons. This prompts the question, "Is there life after Saturday Night Live?" For the show's on-air performers, the answer is: "Maybe, if you're lucky." The question is a little trickier for the show's behind-the-scenes talent. Today, you and I are going to take a look at a clip by two talented men who struggled a bit after their SNL days were over, namely writer Michael O'Donoghue and filmmaker Walter Williams.

The two men could hardly be more different, temperamentally. Williams is the man behind the beloved Mr. Bill skits and other filmed pieces for SNL like Elvis Presley's Coat, in which the King's jacket goes on tour without him after the singer's death. By all accounts, Williams was a sweet, even-tempered guy, possibly a little naive when it came to the cutthroat ways of show business. O'Donoghue, on the other hand, was SNL's Dark Prince of Comedy, a temperamental but brilliant satirist who served as the show's first head writer and whose tantrums and mood swings were legendary. Some of O'Donoghue's problems may have been medical; he suffered severe migraines all his life and died of a cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 54 in 1994.

A mere two years before his death, O'Donoghue wrote a pilot for a potential sketch comedy show on the Fox Network. Walter Williams was brought on to direct. Clearly, Fox was looking to replicate the success of the early SNL. The resulting show, simply called TV, was not picked up, and looking at the existing footage from the pilot, it's (unfortunately) easy to see why. O'Donoghue's script is tired, and Williams' direction is flat. Almost nothing works, although you do get to see cameos by such luminaries as Brian Keith and Rutger Hauer. I'm sure they didn't know what they were doing in this show either. TV is a near-total failure as comedy, but it's fascinating as a historical document. Here, have a look: