Abe Vigoda's still alive! (for now)

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“The Godfather” was on AMC ‘round the clock yesterday and you know what that means.

I’d check the internet every 10 minutes to see if Abe Vigoda was still alive.

In the movie — spoiler alert! — he gets offed for playing mob footsie with Don Barzini and Philip Tataglia.

In real life, Vigoda will, it seems, never die, despite persistent reports that he is, in fact, already dead.

The first of these happened in 1982 when People magazine referred to him as “the late actor Abe Vigoda.”

He took the declaration of his demise in good, er, spirits and posed for a life-affirming picture of himself sitting upright in a coffin reading a copy of the erroneous People issue.

David Letterman in ’97 held a seance for the ghost of Vigoda that ended with the still-living actor ambling on stage to berate the host with, “I’m not dead yet, you pinhead!”

Subsequent Vigoda death rumors sprang up again in ’98, ’04, ’07, ’09 and again last year.

I feel like starting an Abe Vigoda is alive rumor.

I think the reason he’s so frequently rumored to be dead is because he was born with such an ancient face.

Check him out next time “The Godfather” is on which, given what I know about AMC programming, should be right around lunch today.

As Tessio, he looks 94. When the ’72 movie was released he was, in fact, 52.

My age!

The difference is I always look roughly my age. I looked about 40 when I was 40, 20 when I was 20, etc.

Vigoda seems like he came into the world looking 90. Born in Brooklyn in 1921 (he’ll be 95 February 24), I imagine he was getting served in taverns without being carded in 1926.

It’s like there are no visual records of him looking young.

He’s the facial doppelganger of supermodel Christie Brinkley, 61, whose lovely appearance hasn’t changed in 40 years.

Unfortunately, neither has Vigoda’s. 

It’s like the acting Abraham could have been contemporaries with the Biblical one.

Usually, you see someone like Vigoda in some obscure role prior to their finding fame. They’re giving it their best as a struggling sodbuster in an old “Gunsmoke,” or a luckless bartender in some vintage “Twilight Zone.”

Not Vigoda. It’s like he emerged fully formed in 1972.

I saw him in an old “Hawaii Five-O” playing some Italian mob boss’s crafty henchman. But that episode appeared in 1974, two years after Vigoda became famous playing some Italian mob boss’s crafty henchman.

Clearly the guy’s a great actor. Any Jewish gentleman who can consistently appear to be an Italian tough guy while giving off a decidedly geriatric vibe has got some chops.

But his IMDb credits lists only six minor roles from 1949 to being cast in “Godfather,” which itself is stunning.

It’s like he went from some Hoosier high school to the New York Yankees without the requisite stint in Scranton.

What was he doing from 1949-72? Did he ever think of giving up his acting ambitions?

Did he ever sit around staring in the unforgiving mirror and thinking, “My big break better come soon. I’m not going to be this young and pretty forever.”

He’s just so enigmatic to me.

He’s worked steadily, if modestly since “Godfather.” Who can forget his memorable stint with the still-funny "Barney Miller?"

He set sail on “Love Boat” three times; got roughed up by “The Bionic Woman;” and played an elderly grandpa on “B.J. and The Bear.” The work’s continued through the ‘90s when he played Zeus on a production called “Farticus,” which has now zoomed to prominence on my viewing bucket list.

His persistent existence makes me wish I was still doing the occasional “Where Are They Now?” feature on B-list celebs for National Enquirer.

I remember doing ones on Harry Morgan, Elinor Donahue, Al Molinaro, and I think about three or four of the forgotten kids who’d appeared on “The Waltons.”

The stories were always fun because the stars were uniformly grateful for the attention and the opportunity to let their fans know they were still around.

It would be fun to do that for Vigoda, to let people know he’s still with us and still doing well.

At least I think that’s the case.

It’s been 10 minutes since I last checked.

Related . . .

Just the facts, ma’am: my interview with Harry Morgan

Ahoy, Heisenberg! When ‘Breaking Bad’ collides with ‘Love Boat’

TV-holics prepare for bender

“Fargo” and do today’s actor’s disdain dialogue?

Yukkin’ it up over laugh track history

What ruined Billy Joel?

We’ve been having the exact same conversation about once a month for four years. One of the kitchen gals comes up to me at the bar and demands to know why I haven’t acted on her literary advice.

She thinks riches will ensue if I write a book called, “Men Who’ve Been Ruined by Women.”

She always says, “Like Billy Joel! He was great! And then Christie Brinkley ruined him! Same with Bruce Springsteen!”

I always say, “Christie Brinkley was with Bruce Springsteen? That tramp!”

She always looks like she’s going to hit me with a soup ladle.

I always tell her I plan on getting around to it after I get to my own pet project: writing a book called “Famous Sons of Famous Bitches.” It’s a title so snappy it’s bound to score.

Then she always says, “Ah, who reads anyway? Reading’s boring.”

Well, I’m relieved you, my friend, don’t feel that way. And I’m relieved she’s never expressed her displeasure at my sarcastic intransigence more vociferously by hocking a loogie in my jambalaya.

At least I hope that’s never happened. Either way, the jambalaya’s always delicious.

Of course, now my brain goes straight to Theresa every time I hear Billy Joel and I’m left to wonder just what the hell happened to Billy Joel.

She wasn’t my favorite supermodel -- all hail Stephanie Seymour! -- but being ruined by Christie Brinkley wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

I was on board with him from the 1977 release of “The Stranger” clear through the mid-1990s. And I had as much fun listening to him as I did to Tom Petty, The Rolling Stones or any other big band from rock’s golden era.

He rocked with the very best of them.

There was “You May Be Right,” “Only The Good Die Young,” “Piano Man,” “Big Shot,” “My Life,” “Goodnight Saigon,” “Pressure,” and “It’s Still Rock ‘n’ Roll To Me,” to name just a few of his 33 top 40 hits.

He’s the third best-selling American solo artist in history behind Elvis and Garth Brooks.

His videos were the best back when that really mattered. He ditched the woman for whom he’d written “Just the Way You Are,” to date supermodel Elle Macpherson and left her for the supermodel for whom he’d write, “Uptown Girl” and “That’s Not Her Style.”

His concerts kicked ass. Still do, from what I hear.

I read when he was in Pittsburgh about two years ago he came out all bald and dumpy and looking as rock star as Peanuts-creator Charles Schultz. He played two or three songs and then announced, “Hello, Pittsburgh! I’m Billy Joel’s father. Billy would like you all to know he’s doing well and that he still has all his hair.”

Hilarious.

His biggest hit was his last.

“We Didn’t Start The Fire” was released in 1990 and became an American sensation. It remains a catchy and inspired romp through 50 of the world’s the most tumultuous years. It’s the kind of song that should by law be updated for high school history classes every 20 years.

The last I saw of him was a CBS Sunday Morning profile of him building custom boats on Long Island. The “Innocent Man” seemed to be pretending he was a happy man. He’s since married and divorced a young pretty who was 32-years his junior.

It seems clear he likes to drink and drive and I’ve read he’s battled depression his whole life. In fact, he once tried to commit suicide by guzzling household poisons. His quote: “I drank furniture polish because it looked tastier than bleach.”

It makes me sad to know this man who’s brought me and so many others so much joy seems so sad.

I wish I could get him to come visit me in Latrobe. I’d take him to The Pond and order him a big bowl of jambalaya.

I’d introduce him to Theresa.

Maybe meeting her and hearing just one shrill harangue about how he squandered his life with supermodels and global adulation might cheer him up.

I know hearing creative career advice from her just once in my life instead of on a monthly basis would leave me a whole lot less glum.