The December 3, 1950 broadcast of The Jack Benny Program recycled an earlier script (from March 11, 1945) in which Jack relates how he “found” Rochester (Eddie Anderson). (Both shows feature Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll as Amos ‘n’ Andy, as Roch was driving a cab for them at the time.) But the 1950 show contains one of the classic bloopers of the show—Mary, in attempting to say “grease rack,” turns it into “grass reek.” (The writers had quite a heyday with that little beaut on shows to follow.)

As announcer Don Wilson opens the show, we learn that Jack was up for a prestigious award honoring the greatest performer in television—which he unfortunately loses to “Mr. Television” himself, Milton Berle. So his cast attempts to cheer him up:

DON: But Jack, I still think that even though you did only one program in TV, you should have been selected as television’s greatest star…

JACK: Well, Don…

MARY: I agree with Don, Jack…not only did you look youthful and handsome, but you’re a master showman…

JACK: Oh, Mary…

DON: Why Jack, I thought your timing was absolutely…

PHIL (interrupting): Hold it, kids…I know Christmas is coming, but let’s not get panicky…

JACK: Oh, so that’s it…using flattery to get Christmas presents…Phil, I’m surprised you didn’t go along with them…

PHIL: Why should I butter you up for a lousy pair of shoelaces?

JACK: Wait a minute, Phil…I’ll admit that three years ago, I gave Don Wilson a pair of shoelaces for Christmas…but I only did that for a gag…

DON: Well, I’m ready for another gag…they broke this morning…

Next, Mary gets a phone call from her sister Babe—Babe, at least on the radio show, was a fictional man-chaser and described as not being too terribly attractive. (In real life, Mary actually did have a sister named Babe—who didn’t seem to mind being the subject of the show's barbs.) She was frequently given offbeat occupations, like "lady wrestler" and "deep sea diver":

MARY (on phone): Uh, Babe—what are you doing in California? (pause) Uh…you have to go to San Francisco…so soon? (pause) Well, it seems like they just painted that bridge…

JACK: Mary…

MARY (still on phone): Well, tell me, Babe—if you’re going to San Francisco, what are you doing here in Los Angeles? (pause) Lawsuit? (pause) You’re gonna sue Phil Harris? But why? (pause) Oh, Babe—I’m sure he doesn’t mean you when he sings about “The Thing…” (pause) Your picture’s on the music?

Phil Harris and the band treat the audience to a rendition of The Thing, a novelty tune (boom boom boom) that reached #1 on the pop charts in 1950 and 1951. It was probably the biggest hit of Harris' career, which included other great novelty hits like The Preacher and the Bear, The Darktown Poker Club, Smoke! Smoke! Smoke That Cigarette, and The Old Master Painter. His best-known song is probably his signature hit, That’s What I Like About the South—a song which became a running gag during the Benny program’s 1947-48 season. (Phil performed the song on many occasions, but I’m particularly fond of a Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show broadcast from February 12, 1950—he sings it as if it was the first time, it really cooks.) After Harris finishes the song, the Sportsmen Quartet give it the Lucky Strike commercial treatment, which is equally amusing and fun.

Jack’s flashback as to his first encounter with Rochester is prefaced by an envelope he’s received containing some questions he’s to be asked by a radio interviewer. He asks Mary to help him with a brief run-through:

MARY: Here’s the first question…tell me, Mr. Benny—where were you born?

JACK: Uh, Waukegan, Illinois…February 14, 1911…well…go ahead, Mary—ask me the next question…

MARY (long pause): Well…all right…Mr. Benny, we’ve seen many pictures of you in a sailor suit…what year did you enter the Navy?

JACK: 1917…go ahead, Mary—next question…

MARY: Uh…wait a minute, Jack…you were born in 1911 and went into the Navy in 1917?

JACK: Yes…next question…

PHIL: Now hold it, Jackson…if you were born in 1911 and went into the Navy in 1917, you would have been only six years old…

JACK: Next question, Mary…

DON: Jack, how could you possibly get into the Navy when you were only six years old?

JACK: I had a tough draft board and shut up!!!

The second broadcast, from April 15, 1951—is one of my particular favorites: Jack gets a visit from two IRS agents, Collins (Joseph Kearns) and Thompson (Will Wright), who are flabbergasted as to how the comedian could only declare seventeen dollars spent on entertainment on his 1950 tax return:

COLLINS: It’s unbelievable, Herb…unbelievable…

THOMPSON: In all the years I’ve been with the Internal Revenue Department, I’ve never come across anything like this…have you?

COLLINS: Only once…I checked over a man’s return and for that year, he only spent twenty-two dollars on entertainment…

THOMPSON: Was he in show business?

COLLINS: No, he was a prisoner at San Quentin…in solitary, yet…

The two men are particularly flummoxed by an item that indicates Jack spent $3.90 taking Ronnie and Benita Colman to the Mocaimbo (Jack helpfully points out that Mary went, too). Benny suggests that the two agents journey next door and verify the amount with the Colmans:

(SFX: door opens)

RONNIE: Yes?

THOMPSON: Are you Mr. Ronald Colman?

RONNIE: Yes, I am…

COLLINS: Well, we’re from the office of the Collector of Internal Revenue…

RONNIE: Yipe!

COLLINS: Now…now, calm down, Mr. Colman…it’s not in reference to you that we’re here…

THOMPSON: It’s, uh, concerning the income tax return of your neighbor, Jack Benny…

RONNIE (brightening): Good, good!

COLLINS: I’m afraid you don’t understand…you see, last year Mr. Benny earned $375,000…

RONNIE: $375,000?

COLLINS: Yes…and according to his return, he spent seventeen dollars on entertainment…

RONNIE: That much?

COLLINS: But, Mr. Colman—only seventeen dollars!

RONNIE: Well, why would he have to spend more? He borrows everything from us…

THOMPSON: Well, uh…we’d like to come in and talk to you…

RONNIE: Well, of course…of course…

(SFX: door closes)

BENITA (off): Who is it, Ronnie?

RONNIE: It’s two men from the income tax department…

BENITA (off): Yipe!

Colman is all too eager to help the two gentlemen out (“Now…when are you sending Mr. Benny to jail?”) and so he relates the story of how Jack managed to spend the $3.90. The four of them have been taking a turn on the dance floor, with Mary dancing with Ronnie and Jack with Benita (Jack: “I have never enjoyed waltzing so much.” Benita: “It’s a shame the band was playing a rhumba.”). Mary has to sit the next dance out (she cracks that she’s still helping out at the May Company on Saturdays) and she strikes up a conversation with Colman:

MARY: Say, Ronnie—do you mind if I ask you something personal?

RONNIE: Personal?

MARY: Yes, I keep hearing rumors that…well, that you don’t like Jack too much…

RONNIE: Well…

MARY: Oh, I know he has his faults, but…he means well…

RONNIE: Well, maybe so…but why can’t he mean well to somebody else? If it were Jack alone, it might not be so bad…but it’s those ridiculous people that are on the show with you…

MARY: What do you mean?

RONNIE: Well, that…Phil Harris person…it’s amazing the character he plays on the radio…does he carry on like that in real life?

MARY: Shall we look under the table and see?

RONNIE: Oh (laughing)…come now, Mary… (laughing) you’re making that up…

MARY: Yes, but the odds are in my favor…

Meanwhile, on the dance floor:

BENITA: Oh, Jack—wait a second! You better get your handkerchief…I accidentally smeared some lipstick on your lapel…

JACK: Oh, that’s all right—I’ll wipe it off when we get to the table…

BENITA: No, no, no…if Ronnie sees it, he’ll be terribly angry…

JACK: Oh…I didn’t know Ronnie was jealous…

BENITA: He’s not…but it’s his tuxedo…

The exchanges transcribed here just scratch the surface of a really funny broadcast—particularly when Jack once again tangles with his nemesis Frank Nelson (as a very surly waiter). The IRS plot went over so well that the Benny show writers recycled it nearly a year later (March 16, 1952), with Professor LeBlanc (Mel Blanc) the subject of inquiry by the IRS men (this time they share the same name as the actors, Kearns and Wright).
9:04:31 PM    comment []  trackback []  

“That’s what I like about the South…”

I’m sure it hasn’t gone by without casual notice that in most of my write-ups on the Ultimate Jack Benny Collection CDs, I kind of gravitate toward the jokes involving Phil Harris and/or his musicians. I fully confess my bias here; I think Harris was an incredible talent—his timing was peerless, often matching that of his celebrated “boss,” Jack Benny, and though his character of a flashy, egotistical, hard-drinking playboy would no doubt be intolerable in real life, he infused it with a certain charm and lovability.

Phil received a spin-off in 1946 with The Fitch Bandwagon, and for two years—starring with his actress-singer wife, Alice Faye—it followed The Jack Benny Program and was a monster hit. In the fall of 1948, the program was retitled The Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show (sponsored by Rexall Drugs), but soon its largess of following Benny would dissipate—Jack moved to CBS in January 1949, and Harris & Faye found themselves competing in a time slot against Amos ‘n’ Andy. Fortunately, the show managed to stick around until 1954, and it stands out today as one of the all-time great sitcoms—with superb supporting talent and a wisecracking, sarcastic sensibility about it that makes it very accessible to modern-day audiences.

The only problem with Harris’ show is that the qualities he so flagrantly flaunted on the Benny program were sort of toned down on his own series; since he was married with children, I guess the decision was made that the Harris of Jack Benny Show fame probably should be made a better role model. Again, a solution to this came in the form of introducing Frankie Remley, Phil’s left-handed guitarist in his band, to the proceedings. Frank Remley was an actual member of Harris’ group, and though he was often referred to and joked about on Benny’s program, his fictional exploits were acted out on a weekly basis by radio’s Renaissance man himself, Elliott Lewis.

I listened to a couple of shows last night, the first from January 16, 1949. Phil is upset that the Benny Goodman and Guy Lombardo bands have been invited to play at Truman’s inaugural ball—and he’s been left out:

ALICE: Phil, maybe the President doesn’t like the way your musicians play…

PHIL: And what’s wrong with the way my musicians play?

ALICE: Well, first of all…sit down, Father—this is going to take a little time…you see, in the first place…

PHIL: Never mind, never mind…there ain’t nothin’ wrong with my band…my boys are good musicians and they’re a fine, representative group…

ALICE: Yes—but what do they represent? I don’t think they’d fit in with the surroundings of the President’s ball…they’re the strangest-looking group I’ve ever seen…

PHIL: What are you talkin’ about? They’re a fine-lookin’ bunch of men, and terrific musicians…when I formed my band, I imported my boys from all over the world…

ALICE: I know, I know…Frank Buck brought back four of them…

PHIL: That is a base canard…those guys would be right at home in Washington…I bet you wouldn’t be able to tell ‘em from the diplomats…

ALICE: Phil, this is going to be a formal affair, and your boys would have to dress…

PHIL: They’d be willin’ to dress…

ALICE: Do they have tails?

PHIL: A few of ‘em have, but if they wear long trousers (audience laughter and applause drowns him out, he then ad-libs) I wanted to stop there…I wanted to stop…

Some of the ad-libbing on the Harris-Faye show could be both funny and wild; earlier on Alice mispronounces “Indonesia” as “Indonosia,” prompting Phil to suggest that the two of them switch parts. Meanwhile, Phil’s feeling pretty dejected at being left out, and when Frankie comes by, he suggests that Phil call the White House and sweet-talk his way into being invited. Frankie also comes up with the brainstorm that Phil pose as a “nuclear physicist” who’s working on an “atomic bomb”—which leads to a call from an FBI agent (played by Frank Lovejoy, who intones “This is your FBI…”). Phil’s nemesis, grocery boy Julius Abbruzio (Walter Tetley), torments Phil by talking on the extension and calling him “comrade” and Lovejoy a “Cossack.”

At the end of this broadcast, Harris breaks in with the news from a “telegram” that invited him, Alice and the band to play at the inaugural ball—and from the way Phil announces it, he’s pretty convincing in conveying that it’s all spontaneous. However, I learned sometime back via a phone conversation with Terry Salomonson that there was nothing spontaneous about it—Terry has the Harris-Faye show scripts, and the announcement is right there in black-and-white. (Terry is currently at work on restoring all of the Harris-Faye shows, having obtained the transcriptions from their estate some time ago.)

The second show is from the following week (January 23), and features Phil and the family in Washington, D.C.:

PHIL: What do you kids mean, you ain’t excited? This is a great honor! It ain’t everybody that gets invited to the President’s inaugereal…

ALICE: Phil…Phil, the word is inaugural…

PHIL: I’m usin’ the past imperfect gender…no, you kids oughta be thrilled about visiting the capital of the United States…

LITTLE ALICE: Why?

PHIL: Why? Why, Washington is famous for its historical landmarks…where else can you see the Smithsonian Institute, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, Grant’s Tomb and the George Washington Bridge?

ALICE: Not to mention the Sphinx and the Eiffel Tower…

PHIL: Honey, look—you’re confused…please…them are the places we saw in London…now, let me educate the children and you keep working on “Indonosia”…

As a member of the band, Frankie has come along for the ride—but he’s upset and jealous of the fact that he won’t be allowed to attend the inaugural ball. He manages to sabotage Phil’s dress suit and so the two of them decide to sneak into Phil’s brother-in-law Willie’s room to steal his:

FRANKIE: Hey, Curly—are you sure this is Willie’s room?

PHIL: Certainly, can’t you tell? He would have it locked…

FRANKIE: I feel awful silly climbing in through the transom…

PHIL: Get up there…and quiet!!! Quiet, now…all right, all together let’s…jump down into the room…

FRANKIE: Here we go…

(SFX: bodies drop to floor)

FRED: Well, what these Republicans won’t do to get a room in Washington…

PHIL: Hey, it’s Fred Allen!

(Audience applause)

FRED: Well, if it isn’t Phil “Don’t put an olive in it, it soaks up the good stuff” Harris…Phil, what is the idea of coming into my room through the transom?

PHIL: Well, I’m sorry, Fred…

FRED: …I don’t mind you being a little high, but this is ridiculous…tell me, Phil—what are you doing in Washington?

PHIL: I was invited to the inaugereal ball…

FRED: Oh…the inaugereal ball, huh…an “r” left over from the oyster season? Tell me, how are things in California, Phil?

PHIL: Ah, they’re great, Fred, great…hey! That reminds me, the old man sent his regards…

FRED: The, uh, old man???

PHIL: Yeah…Jackson…you know, Jack Benny!

FRED: Oh—is he still alive? Oh, that’s right…of course, he is…I remember reading about the new business he started during the snowstorm out in Beverly Hills…

PHIL: What business?

FRED: Well, Benny was putting butter on snowballs and selling for oranges out there…

PHIL (laughing) Hey, that’s terrific, Fred…you’ve got a sensational sense of humor…

FRED: You think so really?

PHIL: …hasn’t he, Frankie?

FRANKIE: I can take him or leave him…

FRED: Phil…Phil, who is this Good Humor man with the pistachio expression?

PHIL: Well, Fred—don’t you know who this is?

FRED: No, but there are only two kinds of people who look like that, Phil…those with sour stomachs and sponsors…

PHIL: No, no, no, Fred—this is Frankie Remley…

FRED: Oh…how are ya, Frankie?

FRANKIE: Oh, I’m all right—but what’s the matter with you?

FRED: Well…nothing’s the matter with me…why?

FRANKIE: Are those bags under your eyes or are you breaking in a saddle for Roy Rogers?

If you’re wondering, “Gee, Iv—is this one of your favorite Harris-Faye shows because it features your comedy hero, Fred Allen?” then you’re definitely no stranger to this blog. Sadly, five months later Allen would throw in the towel on his own show—leaving a definite void in radio comedy
9:04:17 PM    comment []  trackback []