From Those Were the Days:

1941 - The first contract for advertising on a commercial FM radio station began on W71NY in New York City.
11:17:59 AM    comment []  trackback []  

April Fools—all month long!

This month, Thrilling Days of Yesteryear devotes its voluminous Salon Blog/RadioUserLand space to old-time radio’s classic comedians and comedy shows. There will be an emphasis on Jack Benny, courtesy of Radio Spirits’ The Ultimate Jack Benny Collection—but I’ll also analyze some of the programs from Radio’s Greatest Sitcoms and then fill in the gaps with other comedy shows to round this sucker out to thirty days. (After all—why should April only devote one day to fools?)

“…that suave comedian, dry humorist, and famous master of ceremonies…”

The first broadcast in RS’ Ultimate Jack Benny Collection is, in fact, Jack Benny’s first regular broadcast—the May 2, 1932 debut of The Canada Dry Program. (Benny’s premiere radio appearance was on a March 19, 1932 broadcast of Ed Sullivan’s Broadway’s Greatest Thrills.) Benny fans will certainly be surprised, puzzled and amused listening to this first show, since Benny presides as “master of ceremonies” over what is essentially a musical showcase featuring the talents of maestro George Olsen, his orchestra, and his wife Ethel Shutta (pronounced shu-tay). Benny’s remarks after being introduced by show announcer Ed Thorgensen are particularly memorable:

JACK: Uh, thank you, Mr. Thorgensen—that’s pretty good from a man who doesn’t even know me…ladies and gentlemen, this is Jack Benny talking…and making my first appearance on the air professionally…by that I mean, I’m finally getting paid—which, of course, will be a great relief to my creditors…

There are seven musical numbers on this program, among them I Beg Your Pardon, Mademoiselle and I Found a Million-Dollar-Baby in a Five-and-Ten-Cent Store. They pretty much crowd out the comedy, though Jack rises to the occasion when he needs to make sure the program keeps moving along:

JACK: That was I Love a Parade, ladies and gentlemen…the kind of a number that grips and thrills you…gives you that great feeling of patriotism, and makes you glad that you’re an American…personally, it didn’t bother me very much because I took a nap while the boys were playing it…

Even though Benny’s role on the broadcast is fairly limited, there are a few brief flashes of the comic conventions that would later hallmark Benny’s future shows. Jack’s predilection for ribbing the sponsor is present and accounted for; he describes Canada Dry’s Ginger Ale as “you drink it, like it, and don’t wanna hear about it.” After later reading a bit of commercial copy he cracks: “Gee, I thought I did that pretty swell for a new salesman—I suppose nobody will drink it now.” (The Canada Dry company was not amused by Benny’s levity in pushing its product, which is why they let him go in January 1933.) Jack also introduces his first “cheap” joke, though it is not directed at himself but rather at maestro Olsen, commenting that “he paid the check with a five-dollar bill that was in his pocket so long that Lincoln’s eyes were bloodshot.”

The Canada Dry Program was a twice-weekly (Mondays and Wednesdays) half-hour head over the Blue network until October 26, 1932; it then moved to CBS (Sundays and Thursdays) on October 30 and run until the comedian’s novel approach to the commercials got him yanked on January 26, 1933. Fortunately for Benny, he had started to receive a lot of positive press as a comic on the rise, and he was hired by Chevrolet in March 1933 to headline a program on NBC. Sadye Marks—a.k.a. Mrs. Jack Benny—joined him on The Chevrolet Program, becoming the first member of Jack’s classic “stooge” ensemble. She had made her debut on the Canada Dry Program on August 3, 1932 as Mary Livingstone, a young Benny fan from Plainfield, NJ—and later would change her name legally to that of her character.

Chevrolet gave Benny his walking papers on—ironically—April 1, 1934 (the sponsor apparently wasn’t crazy about Benny and writer Harry Cohn expanding the comedy on the program at the expense of the music), and the comedian joined forces with General Tire for a Friday night program that introduced the second member of Benny’s longtime cast, announcer Don Wilson. Jack then began his eight-year association with Jell-O on October 14, 1934, and the second program on the Radio Spirits box set introduces yet another Benny cast member, bandleader-comedian Phil Harris, from October 4, 1936.

Harris was a headliner at the famed Coconut Grove, a popular Hollywood nightspot, when an RKO comedy three-reeler, So This is Harris!, brought him to the attention of both Jack and George Burns. (Burns was planning to sign Phil to his program, but Benny beat him to the punch.) Although Harris was supposedly Jack’s orchestra leader, he was in reality nothing more than window-dressing (he was hired for his personality more than his musicianship) since the show’s musical direction was really handled by Mahlon Merrick. The October 4, 1936 show is astonishing to listen to, simply because the trademark Harris persona—that of the brash, “incomparable vulgarian”—is surprisingly subdued:

JACK: Say, Phil—you don’t mind if I describe you to our listeners, do you? After all, they will be interested…

PHIL: No, but…uh…well, don’t build me up too much…

My jaw dropped after hearing this exchange—this is a guy who couldn’t pass a mirror without drawling “Ohhhhhhhh you dawg!!!” I have since heard that Benny’s writers created the Harris personality—the swaggering, vain playboy with a fondness for fast clothes, fast cars and fast liquor—after noticing that it was hard to distinguish Jack’s voice from Phil’s. Toward the end of the show, as Don Wilson does the final Jell-O commercial, I laughed when I heard a snatch of “Rose Room”—a musical number that would later become the theme of Phil Harris’ later 1948-54 sitcom with wife Alice Faye.

I was also fascinated by Mary Livingstone’s persona in this broadcast, which borders on a Gracie Allen-like screwball quality. As Mary later explained:

When I first went on radio, the character I portrayed was that of a dumb girl. But when Kenny [Baker] came along, the writers made him dumb, too. It didn’t take Jack long to discover that two dopes weren’t as funny as one. That’s when I became Jack’s smart-aleck girlfriend.

Tomorrow: Jack feuds with comedian Fred Allen, and is introduced to “Rochester.”
10:54:32 AM    comment []  trackback []  

“Well, um, gosh…what do you think, Harriet…?”

Now, I know that many folks have a rather jaundiced view of The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, and I can understand to a certain extent why this is so. The program is an example of that wholesome, white-bread WASP-kind of family situation comedy (along with its siblings Leave It to Beaver and Father Knows Best) prevalent during the 1950s that comes across as extremely dated today. But I’m not ashamed to admit that I like Ozzie and Harriet—the radio version, that is. It’s one of those programs (like Burns and Allen) that played better on radio than TV, and veteran comedy scribe Bob Schiller concurs in an interview from Jordan R. Young’s The Laugh Crafters:

It was a much better radio show than it was a television show. If I had to name a sitcom that I thought was a classic, I’d say it was Ozzie and Harriet. It was terribly underrated—from a writing standpoint, from a performing standpoint. And Ozzie was a very good editor. They had solid stories, partially due to Ben Gershman. He was a droll man. Ben did all the stories, that was his job—that was the only show I ever worked on that had one guy doing stories. And that was great, because he’d spend the whole week just doing the story, then he’d bring ‘em in and we’d kick ‘em around.

Last night, along with some Jack Benny, I listened to a pair of Ozzie and Harriet shows from 1952. In the first, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” (from April 18), Ozzie reads in the newspaper that the town’s Chamber of Commerce has withdrawn its support from the local baseball team, and he attempts to explain to his family why the Great American Pasttime is so important:

OZZIE: Baseball’s been a colorful part of our American scene since before the Civil War…

RICKY: Is that when they discovered it?

DAVID: Nobody discovered it, dopey—it was invented…by Abner Doubleday…

RICKY: Oh yeah…

OZZIE: Well, that’s right…he was the father of American baseball…

RICKY: Golly—that Lil’ Abner sure gets around, doesn’t he?

HARRIET: No, I think it was a different Lil’ Abner…

OZZIE: Some of my fondest childhood memories were the Sunday afternoons when my father used to take us up to Martin’s Oval and root for the Richfield Park Team…

RICKY: Was that before or after the Civil War?

After conferring with his neighbor Thorny on what steps they should take to get the community involved, they hit upon the idea of getting a promoter friend, J.J. Fleason (Gale Gordon), to mother-hen a few ideas on how to win support for continuing the local team. Fleason, who’s also a used car dealer, presents Ozzie with a few of his ideas:

FLEASON: First of all, we make Monday night—Ladies’ Night…

OZZIE: You mean that…uh…ladies are admitted free?

FLEASON: No, sir…no…the ladies play baseball…now, here’s what we do—we find eighteen beautiful, shapely girls, dress them up in fluorescent sun suits, and form two teams…like the idea so far?

OZZIE: Well, the…the basic elements there are pretty hard to knock…

FLEASON: Exactly…and I know what your next question is—you want to know where we can find eighteen beautiful, shapely girls who can play baseball…well, believe me…you get those girls out there in those sun suits and nobody’s going to care whether they can play baseball or not…

Fleason’s other ideas include Midget Baseball on Tuesday nights (“We’ll even cut the admission to half price!”) and Donkey Baseball on Wednesdays—where the regular team rides donkeys while playing. Ozzie presents the ideas to his family, trying to appear enthusiastic—but the horrified reaction he receives tempers his enthusiasm. Harriet then hits upon the brilliant idea of presenting to the Chamber of Commerce and community a choice between regular baseball or Fleason’s carnival-like imitation, and the Chamber immediately decides to reinstate its support for the hometown team.

(NOTE: I discovered something interesting in this episode—Ozzie’s next-door neighbor, “Thorny” Thornberry, reveals his initials to be “S.J.” Does anybody know if Thorny ever had a first name on the show?)

The second broadcast, “Too Much Change” (4/25/52), is a particular delight, beginning with Ozzie’s accounting of where the ten dollars Harriet gave him yesterday went:

OZZIE: First, I went to the garage and had the car filled up with gas…that was three-and-a-half…

HARRIET: Six-and-a-half to go…

OZZIE: Then I met Thorny—that cost me about a dollar-and-a-half…two cheese sandwiches, two chocolate malteds, two pieces of pie and the check was under my plate—I think I was framed…

HARRIET: That’s five…

OZZIE: Uh…then I went down to the Emporium and bought a shirt…they were on sale…that was three-and-a-half…after that, I stopped in at the hardware store to get a padlock for the garage…oh, I got a flashlight that shines red and green…that’s something we need…

HARRIET: Oh, desperately…

OZZIE: What did you say?

HARRIET: Nothing, go ahead…

OZZIE: I also found a set of wrenches for the car…and a box of magic crystals for the fireplace—they make the fire burn all different colors, it’s quite an idea…all that came to about four dollars…

HARRIET: What about the padlock?

OZZIE: Well, I’ll…I’ll pick up that up next time…then I stopped at the drugstore on the way home and I bought some toothpaste, and a can of shoe polish, and some magazines…which came to a little over two dollars…you figure it out…

HARRIET: I have—I’ve been writing it down…all together you spent about fifteen dollars…

OZZIE: All right…(sudden realization) Fifteen? No, no—you must have made a mistake…I only had ten dollars with me…let’s see…

HARRIET: Gasoline, three-and-a-half…Thorny and the sandwiches, a dollar-and-a-half…

OZZIE: Yeah, that’s five…

HARRIET: …shirt at the Emporium, three-and-a-half…after that, temptation at the hardware store, four dollars…

OZZIE: That’s…twelve-and-a-half…

HARRIET: And two dollars and something at the drugstore, that makes it about fifteen…not bad for starting out with ten dollars…

Ozzie comes to the conclusion that the sales clerk at the Emporium must have given him the wrong change, and so he tries to rectify the situation by returning the money. This, however, is easier said than done—the adjustments manager (Frank Nelson) pleads with him not to do this, as it will put the books out-of-balance (as an auditor, I feel his pain). Ozzie finally locates the clerk (Sara Berner) and attempts to give her the five-spot, but runs into interference with her boyfriend “Hoiman” (Sheldon Leonard), who’s convinced that the Oz Man is trying to pick her up. Paula Winslowe also appears in this show (as a flirtatious saleslady), a very funny effort with an equally amusing ending.

I was reading the recent issue of Michael J. Weldon’s Psychotronic! magazine and there’s an interesting article in which he reviews several old television shows that he obtained on videocassette—he makes a funny observation regarding “America’s favorite young couple”: “The showbiz brothers [David and Ricky] were forced to play themselves from 1949 (on the radio) to 1966. Weren’t there child labor laws?”
10:11:51 AM    comment []  trackback []  

Air America

As you may have already heard, the new progressive radio network Air America was launched yesterday, and although most of what I wanted to listen to is broadcast while I am in the arms of Morpheus, I did manage to squeeze in the first hour of Al Franken’s program.

Comedian Bob Elliott (of Bob & Ray fame), one of my comedy heroes, made an appearance in a comedy skit on the program—Franken commented last night on Deborah Norville’s program (I try, as a rule, to avoid any contact with Norville but my father had it on) that Bob & Ray were a big influence on both him and his former partner Tom Davis. Al also mentioned that listeners would hear more old-time radio bits on the show in the future, though he nixed the idea of Amos ‘n’ Andy (which is certainly understandable).

There’s an interesting article about the premiere here.
9:14:39 AM    comment []  trackback []  

Operation Regan revealed

I mentioned some time back that I was being kept as busy as the proverbial beaver on a project, the secret nature of which would be revealed at a future time. So here goes—earlier this month, I was contacted via e-mail by Harlan Zinck, Preservation Manager of First Generation Radio Archives, about contributing some liner notes to one of their two new Premiere Collections, which have just been announced today.

My reaction to this request mirrors the famous remark made by actress Ruth Gordon upon accepting her Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in Rosemary’s Baby: “I can’t tell you how encouragin’ a thing like this is.” The reasons are three-fold: first, I am a vociferous supporter of the simply grand work that First Generation does day after day, month after month, year after year—“preserving radio’s past for the future,” to quote their mission statement—and to be afforded the opportunity to be a part of said mission is one that I am both humbled and honored to accept.

Second, I have had a passion for old-time radio for nearly thirty years now—I love listening to it, collecting it, writing about it (which is the raison d’etre of this blog) and talking about it. I can provide signed affidavits from family and friends—who often make tracks for the nearest exit as I hold forth on the topic—who will attest to this. Allowing me to express my love for The Hobby in any type of forum is a thrill unlike any other.

Finally, to be asked to provide background for these incredible collections places me in heady company—namely because OTR historian Elizabeth McLeod does so as well. There simply are not enough adequate words to convey my admiration for Elizabeth’s writing (I direct you to her Retro-Views columns on Charlie Summers’s website as prima facie evidence of how splendid her efforts can be), and to be granted a chance to participate in an activity in which she has blazed so many of the definitive trails brings a blush to my cheeks and turns my head to boot.

So, if you’re curious, you can check this out—I was assigned to write about Jeff Regan, Investigator, one of two Premiere Collections being released this month and available at a discounted price until April 14th. I can personally vouch for the quality of these programs, having listened to all of the broadcasts—and the most rewarding thing about the entire experience is that I have been asked to contribute again in the future.
8:42:39 AM    comment []  trackback []