Marc H. Spinelli, aka Count Marco

A thread for all things "Count Marco."
Here is his 1996 obit:
http://www.sfgate.com/news/article/OBITUARY-Count-Marco-Outrageous-S-F-Advice-2961449.php


Marc H. Spinelli, better known to Chronicle readers as Count Marco, a columnist who gave outrageous advice to women for 15 years, died of pancreatic cancer yesterday at the UCLA Medical Center. He was 77.

As Count Marco, Mr. Spinelli was a star performer in a circulation war in the 1960s between The Chronicle and other Bay Area newspapers. At the height of his fame, he wrote his newspaper column, appeared on his own daily television show, wrote three books, won prizes and developed a huge audience that was either amused or appalled by his words.

Count Marco's advice came from another time: He told women how to take baths with their husbands, how to dress, how to undress, how to flirt. "There is an art to bathing, just as there is an art to undressing," he wrote. ". . . Step daintily into the bubble-filled tub. Mon Dieu! This is no time to bend over and test the temperature of the water . . . lower yourself in the water. Don't plop down like a baby whale."

At one time, the paper sent Mr. Spinelli to cover a noted criminal trial -- he wore a tuxedo and rode in a chauffeured limousine. At another, it conducted a search for an overweight woman whom the Count would turn from an ugly duckling into a swan. The woman was called "The Fat Venus," and the series about her ran for months.

It was all a put-on, of course. Women occasionally stopped Mr. Spinelli in the street and slapped his face. Impostors turned up at restaurants and bars around town. Time magazine called him "a voice from the sewer." But people talked about Count Marco, and that was the point.

"Marc was something. He was unique," said Joy Thomas, an old family friend. "He just loved being Count Marco. He was outrageous, but when you got to know him you realized he was very clever, very creative."

There was much more to Mr. Spinelli than being Count Marco. He was an actor who appeared once on Broadway, a drama critic, a soap opera writer, owner of a string of beauty parlors and a radio station, a magazine editor, and before his final illness, he was an executive in a media brokerage company.

Marc Henry Spinelli was born in Pittsburgh, Pa. He always swore that his father had noble blood, which, he said, made it easy for him to be Count Marco.

He graduated from Woodbury College in Los Angeles and was married for a time. His wife died, and Mr. Spinelli joined the Navy in time for World War II. Though he told interviewers his military career consisted of being "the world's fastest typist," he in fact was a radio operator on Guadalcanal and was badly wounded in the bloody invasion of Tarawa in the Pacific. He never discussed his war service.

After the war and after some business reverses, he came to The Chronicle in 1959 armed with the idea of writing a column on glamour. "He was a fantastic salesman," said Thomas. "He could really sell an idea."

He emerged after a meeting with executive editor Scott Newhall as Count Marco, complete with a coat of arms and the assignment of becoming the most talked- about beauty columnist of his day.

After he left the paper following a 15-year run, Mr. Spinelli moved to Palm Springs where he lived in an adobe house with furniture that once belonged to Rudolph Valentino. He also had a home in Honolulu.

For a time he was managing editor of Biarritz, an international women's magazine. He also was Los Angeles manager of a firm that brokered the sale of radio and TV stations.

He became ill about a year ago. "He died reluctantly, fighting it every inch of the way," said Thomas. "He had great courage and grace. And the nurses at the hospital all loved him, right to the end."

Mr. Spinelli is survived by his daughter, Dolores Di Patori of La Habra; and by two close friends, Thomas, of Los Angeles and Mai Tai Sing of Honolulu. At his request, there will be no funeral. "Instead, he wanted a nice splash in the paper," Thomas said.