”Dear Mamma Mia…”

In Jordan R. Young’s The Laugh Crafters, veteran comedy writer Parke Levy (creator of radio/TV’s December Bride) is asked about his former association with writer-producer Cy Howard. Levy’s response is short and to the point: “Cy Howard couldn’t write his name.”

Parke is probably not the guy you would want to jot down as a reference on a job application. But Howard’s inability to sign his John Hancock aside, he was the mastermind behind two of radio’s big hit comedy shows that debuted in the medium’s waning days: My Friend Irma and Life With Luigi.

Luigi was originally auditioned (June 15, 1948) as The Little Immigrant, but the comedy’s title was changed shortly before its debut broadcast on September 21, 1948. The series detailed the misadventures of Luigi Basco (J. Carrol Naish), a shy but lovable Italian immigrant determined to make good in his newly adopted country and become an American citizen to boot. To accomplish his citizenship goals, he faithfully attended a night school class taught by Miss Spaulding (Mary Shipp) and attended by Horowitz (Joe Forte), Olsen (Ken Peters), and class clown Schultz (the always delightful Hans Conried), who often complained “My rheumatism is killing me.”

Luigi owned an antique store in Chicago and rented space adjacent to Pasquale’s Spaghetti Palace, whose proprietor was Luigi’s sponsor and benefactor. The character of Pasquale (played by Alan Reed) was essentially an Italian version of Amos ‘n’ Andy’s George “Kingfish” Stevens. But while the Kingfish’s modus operandi was to make a quick buck, Pasquale’s one-track-mind was focused only on marrying off his 300-pound daughter Rosa (Jody Gilbert) to Luigi, who was not particularly sold on the idea of matrimonial bliss with the squeaky-voiced, rotund girl. Week after week, Pasquale was nothing if not persistent.

Last night while at work, I listened to a broadcast from December 27, 1949, which finds Luigi despondent over the fact that he will be unable to follow the American custom of calling one’s mother on New Year’s Eve:

LUIGI: Excuse-a me, Miss Spaulding, but…soon-a is gonna be New Year’s Eve and…I’m-a no have enough-a money to call my Mamma on the telephone…

MISS SPAULDING: Aw…

OLSEN: Oh, poor Luigi…he is homesick…

SCHULTZ: Schtop, Olsen…Luigi iss here mit us…how can he be home zick? Schmile, Luigi…I’m just trying to sheer you up…

HOROWITZ: Luigi…Luigi, how much would it cost to make a telephone call from Chicago to Italy?

LUIGI: Well, uh…how much is-a cost to make-a the call?

HOROWITZ: Yes, how much?

LUIGI: I was-a ask long distance operator…she’s-a tell me she’s-a cost with-a government tax, fifteen dollars-a first three minutes…five dollars each-a next minute…

SCHULTZ: Ach! If you give a hiccup by mischtake you lost three dollars!

MISS SPAULDING: Yes, it is quite expensive…if you should speak to your mother for only ten minutes it would cost about fifty dollars…

OLSEN: Gee, that’s a lot of money for a phone call…

HOROWITZ: True, true…but when you wanta talk to your mother, a t’ousand dollars ain’t too much…wait, Luigi, I got an idea for you…why don’t you lend the fifty dollars from your friend Pasquale?

MISS SPAULDING: Mr. Horowitz, it is not lend…it is borrow fifty dollars from Pasquale…

SCHULTZ: What’s the difference? Either vay he ain’t gonna get it…Luigi, I got an even better idea…go into Pasquale’s schtore ven he’s not dere and make the call on his telephone…

LUIGI: No…no, thanks-a, Schultz…but-a now I know what I’m-a do…it’s-a hard to get-a money from-a Pasquale…but maybe he’s-a gonna let me use-a his telephone and when-a the bill has-a come, I’m-a gonna pay off-a little by little…

HOROWITZ: That’s a good idea!

SCHULTZ: Oh, Luigi, are you a schmartkopf! Schmile…and vat if you don’t pay him back zo quick? Vat can Pasquale do to you? Can he zue you in court? Can he take avay your schtore? Can he make you marry his daughter Roza?

LUIGI (timidly) Schultz-a, can he?

SCHULTZ: About the zuing and the houze, I don’t know…but about Roza…on dat I can giff you my guarantee!

And so, Luigi bravely confronts Pasquale with his dilemma:

PASQUALE: Luigi, my friend! ‘Allo, Luigi…’allo, ‘allo…

LUIGI: Hi-a, Pasquale…uh, Pasquale…I’m-a want to ask you a big-a favor about New Year’s Eve…

PASQUALE: Sure, little-a banana nose…you know anything I’m-a got is-a yours…my house-a…my food-a…my clothes-a…my daughter Rosa…

LUIGI: Ah, Pasquale…thank-a you very much-a for your house and your food and-a your clothes…

PASQUALE: What about-a my daughter Rosa?

LUIGI: You’re welcome…no, Pasquale, please-a…forget about-a her…

PASQUALE: I will! After you marry her!

LUIGI: Pasquale, I’m-a come here to ask-a you a big-a favor for…so let’s-a us not fight…

PASQUALE: All right, all right…what’s-a your big favor, money?

LUIGI: Well, uh…is-a phone call I’m-a like to make tomorrow night with your telephone…

PASQUALE: All right…who you gonna call?

LUIGI: Italy.

PASQUALE: What-a, you crazy? People call up-a countries, they call up-a people…

LUIGI: Huh?

PASQUALE: What-a you gonna do, call up Italy and say “’Allo Italy—what-a you hear from the Alps?” That’s-a crazy!

LUIGI: No, Pasquale…you don’t give me chance-a to explain-a…I’m-a like to call my mamma on New Year’s Eve…

PASQUALE: On-a my telephone? It’s-a cost about a thousand dollars!

LUIGI: No, Pasquale…only about-a fifty dollars…and I’m-a promise you I’m-a gonna pay you back…

PASQUALE: Hey, Luigi…maybe we make a little-a deal…

LUIGI: Huh?

PASQUALE: You know, on the outside, I’m-a look like-a I’m a hard-a man…but deep-a down, you know I’m-a filled with the milk of human kindness…and-a for you, there’s always a couple of big-a squirts…

LUIGI: Aw, thank-a you, Pasquale…you’re the biggest-a squirt I know…

PASQUALE: Atsa funny thing…when I’m-a say it, it’s-a come out-a different…

LUIGI: Yeah, but-a Pasquale…what is this-a deal you was talking about?

PASQUALE: Well, Luigi, it’s-a strictly business…I’m-a willing to lend-a you the fifty dollars from my own-a personal loan-a company…The Pasquale Finance Corporation…

LUIGI: Ah, thank-a you, Pasquale…

PASQUALE: And as-a it’s-a gonna be business, you gotta have a co-signer…somebody who’s-a married…

LUIGI: Well, all right…I’m-a get-a Schultz…

PASQUALE: Eh, no…it must-a be a female married to co-sign…

LUIGI: All right…Mrs.-a Schultz…

PASQUALE: Also, she’s-a gotta be married to my son-in-law and his name’s-a gotta be Luigi…

LUIGI: Pasquale…you mean-a to get-a some money I’m-a gotta marry Rosa?

PASQUALE: Heh heh heh heh…’allo, my son…

LUIGI: Heh heh heh heh…goodbye, papa…

Repulsed by the very thought of being manacled to Rosa, Luigi decides to borrow the amount he needs directly from the loan company—and to show that there’s no hard feelings, Pasquale phones the company up and sabotages his efforts by offering to act as a character reference for Luigi (“He’s-a just gotta new job…he’s-a workin’ in a poolroom.”). Luigi even resorts to going directly to the phone company in an attemptt to get them to “lend” him a long-distance call, but to no avail. A dejected Luigi returns home to his store and Pasquale tries to lift his spirits:

PASQUALE: Let’s-a you and me and Rosa, we go walking down-a Michigan Boulevard…we watch-a Rosa push-a the crowd a little, eh? Don’t answer, I’ll call her in-a now…oh, Rooosssa…Rooosssa! ROSA!!!

ROSA (in her boisterous, squeaky voice): You call me, Papa?

PASQUALE: Yes, my little-a kewpie doll…Rosa, say ‘allo to Luigi…

ROSA (giggling laugh) Hello, Luigi!

LUIGI (resignedly) Hello, Rosa…

PASQUALE: Rosa…any minute is-a gonna be twelve o’clock…what are you gonna do?

ROSA: Same as last year, Papa…

PASQUALE: What’s-a that?

ROSA: You hold Luigi and I’ll kiss him!

As the clock strikes midnight, the trio’s conversation is interrupted by the ringing of Luigi’s telephone. To his surprise and delight, it’s Mamma Basco calling from Italy—observing their New Year’s Eve custom in which the mother calls the son.

Life With Luigi enjoyed a healthy five-year stint over CBS Radio until March 3, 1953 (there was apparently also a fifteen-minute daily version broadcast in 1954) and often gave The Bob Hope Show a run for its money in the ratings. The show briefly appeared on television in 1952, but the program’s run was relatively short-lived, owing in large part to complaints about its ethnic stereotypes. Listening to the program today, there are a few moments that will make modern-day audiences wince, but the show remains enjoyable for me if only for its talented cast (Naish, Reed, and Conried were all master dialecticians) and the memorably funny comic villain that was Pasquale.

Proving that everything old is new again, Life With Luigi returned to television—sort of—in the guise of What a Country! (1986-87), a sitcom tailored to the talents of comedian Yakov Smirnoff, who played a newly-arrived Russian immigrant attending night school to prepare himself for American citizenship. Country also had its origins in a popular Britcom called Mind Your Language, which ran on ITV from 1977-79 and in a revised version in 1986.

“Give me some men…who are stout-hearted men…”

On any given night in Summerfield—in a room above Floyd Munson’s barbershop—you just might hear that song from five men collectively known as “The Jolly Boys”: Floyd (Arthur Q. Bryan), druggist Richard Q. Peavey (Richard LeGrand), police chief Tom Gates (Ken Christy), Judge Horace Hooker (Earle Ross) and Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve (Hal Peary)—better known to OTR fans as The Great Gildersleeve. This musical aggregation—or “aggravation,” as Floyd once humorously described it—often figured in the plots of the popular situation comedy, and the December 31, 1947 broadcast I listened to this morning is a prime example.

It’s New Year’s Eve in Summerfield’s water department, and our favorite water commissioner is having his secretary Bessie (Gloria Holliday, who later on in real-life became Mrs. Hal Peary) tidy up 1947’s “unfinished business” before the new year rolls in. Bessie muses that since the paperwork from 1947 fills up two cabinet drawers compared to only one from last year business must be improving:

GILDY: …but it’s all over for this year and now we can relax…uh…what time is it?

BESSIE: Only two o’clock…should I get my pad and pencil?

GILDY: Bessie…it’s December 31st…doesn’t that mean anything to you?

BESSIE: Oh…yes, sir…

GILDY: What?

BESSIE: Um…gosh, I don’t know…I guess you caught me in a fib, Mr. Gildersleeve…

GILDY: It means that it’s the last day of the year, Bessie…let’s close up the office! Besides, I have some arrangements to make for New Year’s Eve…

BESSIE: Oh, you mean all those parties, Mr. Gildersleeve? You certainly were invited to a lot of them…

GILDY: Well…yes, I was (chuckles)…

BESSIE: New Year’s parties are such fun…when it’s twelve o’clock you say “Happy New Year” and then…kiss everybody!

GILDY (laughing): Yes, that’s the general idea, Bessie…let’s see, I’ll stop in at Doris’ at nine…Eve’s at nine-thirty…pay a call on the Bagley sisters at ten…and be back at Doris’ by eleven…she invited me twice (Gildy laugh)…

Gildersleeve stops by Peavey’s drugstore and can’t resist the urge to lord it over the druggist and barber Floyd about his grand New Year’s plans. Peavey, it seems, will be ringing in the new year with Mrs. Peavey, and Floyd has found himself playing nursemaid to wife Lovey, who is suffering from a cold:

FLOYD: Hey, the Judge was in…mentioned somethin’ about gettin’ together at the Jolly Boys tonight but I told him to count me out…you fellas, too, huh?

GILDY: The Jolly Boys? That would be Judge Hooker’s idea…what a dull place to spend New Year’s Eve…

PEAVEY: Well now, I wouldn’t say that…I can think of duller places…and perhaps the Judge doesn’t have any other place to go…

FLOYD: Yeah, he’s kinda alone in the world at that…I’d ask him over to our house but I can’t with Lovey on the blink…

PEAVEY: Well, he could come over and celebrate with Mrs. Peavey and me…course I’d have to put out some feelers first…

FLOYD: Hey! Why don’t you take him around with you tonight, Commish?

GILDY: Floyd!

FLOYD: He don’t have a happy home to stick to like the Peave and me…just a housekeeper and four walls…

GILDY: Well, that’s his concern…

FLOYD: Well, you wouldn’t want to be all alone on New Year’s Eve, would ya?

GILDY: Well…now Floyd…

PEAVEY: He’s really very fond of you, Mr. Gildersleeve…

FLOYD: Yeah, you’ve known him longer than any of us…

GILDY: It’s up to the Judge to get invited to his own parties…he has to make his little contacts throughout the year like I do…

FLOYD (coldly): Okay, Commissioner…it that’s the way you feel about it…on New Year’s Eve…I guess I’ll get back to the shop…

GILDY: I’ll be right over for that shave, Floyd…

FLOYD (with a slight edge in his voice): I may be busy…Happy New Year, Peavey…

PEAVEY: Happy New Year, Floyd…

GILDY: Happy New Year, Floyd! (stony silence) Floyd! Happy New Year! (more silence) Look, fellas…I’m not responsible for Hooker…

FLOYD: The Judge is a Jolly Boy, ain’t he?

GILDY: But…

FLOYD: All for one and one for all…like the song goes, should old acquaintance be forgot…

GILDY (resignedly): All right, Floyd, all right…I’ll take him along with me…ye Gods…

FLOYD: That’s the spirit, Commish! Happy New Year!

PEAVEY: It’s a very nice thing you’re doing, Mr. Gildersleeve… (Breaking out into song) “Should old acquaintance…”

GILDY (cutting him off) All right, Peavey…Happy New Year…

Gildersleeve goes out looking for the Judge, and finds him walking in the park. He plans to extend his New Year’s parties invitation to his friendly nemesis, but the Judge apparently has other ideas:

HOOKER: You see, I’ve been thinking about you, too, Gilder…

GILDY: You have?

HOOKER: Yes…and those two sweet children…how you must look forward to the joy of each New Year’s Eve…Marjorie, curled at your feet…and little Leroy in your lap…

GILDY: Yeah, but Judge…when did you see Leroy last?

HOOKER: Oh, that’s right…I was carried back, I guess…to the time when, as probate judge, I turned those little children over to you…my, but you were proud…

GILDY: Well, yes I was…

HOOKER: …and although you’ve been fatheaded and stubborn at times…a little negligent…I’ve never regretted doing it…

GILDY: Well…thanks, Judge…

HOOKER: …with each passing year, what a thrill it must be for you…a man whose life was once empty…like mine is…to hear them recite their accomplishments and plan the course of the future and…welcome the new year all together…one family, all for one and one for all…now then, what is it you wanted to ask me, Gilder?

GILDY: Well…Floyd and Peavey told me that you were at loose ends tonight…and I was wondering…

HOOKER: Yeah?

GILDY: …if you care to spend New Year’s Eve with me…

HOOKER: Where, Gilder? At home? With you and the children?

GILDY: At home? Uh…well…yes…in the bosom of my little family…

HOOKER: Gildy, old friend…I’d be honored and delighted!

GILDY (muttering to himself): I was afraid you would…you old goat…

So Gildersleeve’s big heart traps him into spending New Year’s Eve at home—an idea that is most assuredly not popular with the family, particularly niece Marjorie (Louise Erickson), who had planned to imitate her uncle’s plans by going out and getting down with her bad self. The evening with Hooker is as exciting as watching paint dry, and when the Judge mentions that he’s glad he turned down the same party invitations in order to spend New Year’s with Gildy, Gildersleeve explodes and storms out of the house, intending to forge on with his party-attending plans:

(SFX: town clock tolling, footsteps in snow)

GILDY: Well…quarter of twelve…still time to wish Doris Dalrymple a Happy New Year…maybe Eve, too (chuckling)…(SFX: piano playing off in distance) hey…somebody’s having a party over at Floyd’s barbershop…the Jolly Boys Club! Now, who’d be up there? Well, it’ll only take a minute to find out…

(SFX: door opens and closes, footsteps walking upstairs…a group of voices singing “Put On Your Old Gray Bonnet” can be heard, and as Gildersleeve goes up the stairs he joins in, singing)

GILDY: Well! Floyd! Chief! What goes on here?

GATES: If it isn’t Commissioner Gildersleeve…

FLOYD: Hiya, Commish…you’re just in time…

GILDY: Floyd… I thought Lovey was sick…

FLOYD: Well, I had to step out and get her some cough syrup…ha ha ha ha…

GILDY: I thought you Jolly Boys were all staying home tonight…you’re a fine bunch of hypocrites…

PEAVEY: Well now, I wouldn’t say that…

GILDY: Peavey, you old rascal…how did you get away from Mrs. Peavey?

PEAVEY: Well, it seems Mrs. Peavey is a little behind the times…

GILDY: Huh?

PEAVEY (with barely concealed glee) She thinks New Year’s Eve is tomorrow night…

GILDY (laughing) Oh my goodness…how long have you guys been here? Chief! You always spend New Year’s with your mother, in Salinas…

GATES: I do, Mr. Gildersleeve…but tonight, the blizzard blocked the road…(sadly) first New Year’s I’ve missed spending with my mother in twenty years…

FLOYD: That’s tough, Chief…hey, Commish…come on over in the corner and have a Coke…

GILDY: Coke? Well, just one…

PEAVEY: Maybe I’ll have another one with you…(explaining to Gildy) New Year’s Eve…

GILDY: Oh…???

HOOKER (entering) Well, good evening, gentlemen!

FLOYD: Hey gang, it’s the Judge!

GILDY: Judge, you’re like a bad penny…how did you find me?

HOOKER: That was easy, Gilder…after I put Leroy to bed I followed some peculiar tracks in the snow…nobody else walks like a steamroller…(laughs)

GILDY: Why, you old goat…

HOOKER: I’m glad you left so I could…I was never so bored in all my life…

GILDY: Now see here, Hooker…

GATES: Fellas, fellas…it’s New Year’s Eve…and we’re all Jolly Boys…

(SFX: town clock tolls twelve)

FLOYD: Yeah! Hey, listen…it’s midnight…let’s have a song…”Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot…”

(SFX: piano begins to play)

HOOKER: Well, not a bad idea…huh, Gildy old friend?

GILDY: Great idea, Judge…old friend…

FLOYD: Catch it as it comes by…

(The five of them sing “Auld Lang Syne”, as the orchestra plays out…)

At the episode’s end, Hal Peary “breaks the fourth wall” (although this being radio that might not be the correct term) and wishes the listening audience a Happy New Year from him and the Gildersleeve cast and crew. You may call me a sentimental ol’ slob, but I have to agree with the sentiment expressed in this episode that there is no better time spent on New Year’s than with your family and/or friends. By the way, I noticed that this is the second post in two days to use the word “bosom”—I think I will resolve not to use that word anymore when blogging in 2004.

“Another cup of Maxwell House coffee, George?”

I continued my countdown to New Year’s Eve this morning with a broadcast of Maxwell House Coffee Time—starring George Burns & Gracie Allen—as originally heard over NBC Radio December 30, 1948. A very funny Burns & Allen outing, it also could be considered “Old Home Week” as the show’s former bandleader (1945-48), Meredith Willson, is the guest star. I’m not certain why Willson (author of the hit musical The Music Man) was let go at the end of the 1947-48 season, but his was certainly a missed presence—in many ways, he functioned as a male version of Gracie, though he was not so much dizzy as sweetly naïve and bashful. (Willson didn’t collect any unemployment checks after leaving the show, however—he was still working for General Foods as the spokesman for Jell-O on The Aldrich Family.)

As the show opens, we find the Burnses stoked about their upcoming New Year’s celebration:

GEORGE: Gracie, we’re going to have the greatest New Year’s Eve party in town…

GRACIE: Mmm…you bet we are!

GEORGE: Money is no object…I’ve hired an orchestra!

GRACIE: You did?

GEORGE: Yep…and on New Year’s Eve, musicians really come high…

GRACIE: And they leave even higher…

GEORGE: What about the food…did you take care of that?

GRACIE: Mm hmm…I bought two turkeys…oh, and I hired a maid to pass around the hors d’oeurves…

GEORGE: This is really going to be some party…

GRACIE: Mm hmm…

GEORGE: I, uh…I bought champagne…

GRACIE: You did?

GEORGE: Uh huh…and at midnight, we’ll fill our glasses and drink bottoms up…

GRACIE: Isn’t that an awkward position?

GEORGE: Yes, it’ll spoil my hat…

GRACIE: You know, darling…with an orchestra tomorrow night, you’ll be able to sing your very best…

GEORGE: Ah, no…people don’t want to hear me sing…

GRACIE: Oh, they do too! And sometime before the party, be sure to learn that new popular song, “Drop Dead”…

GEORGE: A popular song called “Drop Dead”?

GRACIE: Sure…well, there must be…at every sociable, when you get up to sing you say “What would you like me to do?” and everybody yells…

GEORGE (interrupting) Oh yes, yes, yes…

George & Gracie receive another “old home week” visitor in the personage of Mr. Judson, a Texas oil/cattleman portrayed on their program by the one-and-only Gale Gordon. I must admit, however, I’ve never cared much for this character, although his material is a little better than usual. Someone once speculated on The Old-Time Radio Digest that the addition of Judson was inspired by the success of Kenny Delmar’s Senator Claghorn character on The Fred Allen Show. Suffice it to say, Judson was a pale imitation at best, and remains one of Gordon’s weakest characterizations (his catchphrase “Little lady, I like your sense of humor!” was equally lame). Gordon, of course, became well-known as the perfect comic foil for Lucille Ball, both on radio’s My Favorite Husband and TV’s The Lucy Show—but that’s kind of giving him short shrift; he was much more versatile than that, as his performances ran the gamut from space hero Flash Gordon to detective Gregory Hood.

Gracie plans to invite Judson to their New Year’s party but while searching for an extra invitation she stumbles across the other invitations that she has forgotten to mail. Knowing that George will be furious when he discovers this, she attempts to round up the invited guests—including announcer Bill Goodwin and Mrs. Chester Vanderlip (Bea Benaderet)—but they’ve already made plans. Gracie then pays Meredith a visit, as he is her last hope:

GRACIE: Meredith, you were supposed to get a beautiful invitation to our New Year’s Eve party but I forgot to mail it…

MEREDITH: That probably accounts for my failure to receive it…

GRACIE: Yeah…so I’m inviting you right now…you’ve just got to come, it means so much to George…

MEREDITH: Well, I’m afraid I have previous plans for tomorrow night, Gracie…I’m proposing to a lovely young creature…just the type I’ve always wanted to marry…a girl…

GRACIE: Meredith, must you propose to this girl? George will be so disappointed…

MEREDITH: Why? I’ve never given him any encouragement…

GRACIE: No, I mean he’ll be disappointed if you don’t come…can’t you propose at our party?

MEREDITH: Oh no, I fear that’s too public…besides, I’ve promised to kneel before the very sofa on which her father proposed to her mother…

GRACIE: Oh…did she accept him?

MEREDITH: I presume so…

GRACIE: Do her folks approve of you, Meredith?

MEREDITH: Oh, yes…her entire family has taken me to their…if you’ll pardon the expression…bosom…

GRACIE: How nice…

MEREDITH: It’s unfortunate that your party isn’t tonight, Gracie…as my betrothed is working and I’m quite free…

GRACIE: Yes, if tonight were only New Year’s Eve all the people I invited could come and then…(realization sets in) Meredith, I’ve got it!

MEREDITH: What?

GRACIE: I’ll make tonight New Year’s Eve…

MEREDITH: Have a care, Gracie…you are assuming powers greater than those of Petrillo…

GRACIE: I mean, I’ll make George think it’s New Year’s Eve…

MEREDITH: But that’s twenty-four hours away…

GRACIE: That’s the idea…he’s going to bed early tonight, so I’ll get all the guests over and wake George up and tell him he slept twenty-four hours…

MEREDITH: That’s a brilliant idea! Gracie, no one else has a brain like you…except possibly me…

GRACIE: Mm hmm…we do make a great team…we’re like those Congressmen who support each other in Washington…when we put our heads together, it’s a solid block…

With her scheme underway, the “New Year’s Eve party” begins:

GRACIE: Shh!!! Quiet, everybody! Are enough people here to get the party started?

BILL: Oh sure, Gracie...

GRACIE: Does everybody know everybody else? Meredith, you haven’t met the Vanderlips…

MRS. VANDERLIP: How do you do, Mr. Willson?

MR. VANDERLIP: How do you do?

MEREDITH: How do you do…it’s always a pleasure to widen my acquaintances…

MR. VANDERLIP: Thank you…

MEREDITH: By that, I mean I enjoy meeting new people…I’m sure that you and your wife are wide enough…

MRS. VANDERLIP: Well! I like that!

GRACIE: Oh ho, I knew you’d get along…now, uh…put on your paper hats everyone, and I’ll go in and wake George and tell him it’s New Year’s Eve…

MEREDITH: Well, how long has he been in bed?

GRACIE: About fifteen minutes…

MR. VANDERLIP: Well, maybe he’s still awake…

GRACIE: Oh, no…I don’t think so…he was lying on his tummy and that way he usually rocks himself to sleep…now, I’ll wake him up and the party can start…(SFX: door opens, closes, snoring) Happy New Year!

GEORGE (startled awake) Huh??? Wha…what was that?

GRACIE: It’s New Year’s Eve, dear…

GEORGE: New Year’s Eve? This…this is Thursday…

GRACIE: No, no dear…it’s Friday…you slept for twenty-four hours…

GEORGE: Have you gone out of your mind?

GRACIE: Get out of bed, the guests are here for the party…

GEORGE: Guests?

GRACIE: Well, sure…listen…(SFX: door opens) Happy New Year!

GUESTS: Happy New Year!

(SFX: door closes)

GRACIE: Get dressed, dear…

GEORGE: I must be dreaming…hand me my robe…

GRACIE: Here…

GEORGE: I don’t believe this…(SFX: door opens) Happy New Year…

GUESTS: Happy New Year!

(SFX: door closes)

GEORGE: Gee…I feel like I only slept a few minutes…

GRACIE: You slept twenty-four hours, you sleepyhead…naughty boy!

GEORGE: Twenty-four hours? Why didn’t you wake me?

GRACIE: Well, I didn’t have the heart, darling…you were so tired…

GEORGE: Funny thing is, I still am…

A great deal of hilarity ensues at the party, including an amusing Maxwell House commercial and a running gag in which Gracie attempts to keep George awake by asking “Oh, you’re not having fun, dear…blow your little horn…” followed by a funny-sounding horn toot. It’s one of those jokes that’s funny due to its constant repetition; similar to Red Skelton’s line “It’s nice to be back among the magnolias again!” in A Southern Yankee (1948) or Jack Benny’s “So they call me Concentration Camp Ehrhardt, eh?” in To Be or Not to Be (1942). The horn gag proved so popular that it popped up again in subsequent broadcasts, particularly the following week with guest Gregory Peck.

In addition to fine support from Gordon, Benaderet (she’s hysterical as a maid serving the party’s guests, using those one-of-kind-Brooklynese tones she showcased as Amber Lipscott on My Friend Irma) and Hans Conried, this broadcast also features a nice musical turn from Gracie as she sings “Little Grass Shack in Hawaii.” Gracie often demonstrated her musical talents in the early Burns & Allen programs but her delightful singing voice was pretty much silenced once the show shifted to its domestic sitcom format in 1942.

“Ho-ly cow!”

I’ll come clean; I’m a sucker for those old television sitcoms from the 1950s. Yes, I know that there is absolutely no resemblance between these shows and real-life families (although if you’ve ever been curious to see an authentic reproduction of Ozzie and Harriet you should drop in and meet my parents sometime) but that’s all part of the fun of watching. I can’t help but giggle at the rainbow-colored idealism of programs like The Donna Reed Show or Leave It to Beaver. (My friend Jeff states unequivocally that Leave It to Beaver is the best situation comedy in the history of television, and has written several non-published pieces on the subversive subtext of selected episodes. I keep prodding him about getting them published.)

One of the best-known examples of the wholesome white-bread, WASP-family sitcom is Father Knows Best. When I was young, I hated this show with the intensity of a thousand white-hot suns. I hated Robert Young and his wise, all-knowing patriarchal role of Jim Anderson, whose dispensed advice as freely as Young’s other famous TV character, Dr. Marcus Welby, dispensed prescriptions. I hated his perfect wife, Margaret (Jane Wyatt) and his all-too perfect children: Betty (Elinor Donahue), Bud (Billy Gray), and Kathy (Lauren Chapin). I hated their perfect little house on their perfect little street in their perfect little town (Springfield).

Then I was introduced to the radio version of Father Knows Best, which ran on NBC Radio beginning August 25, 1949 and ending April 25, 1954. If you’ve ever had the opportunity to listen to this series, I think you’ll get a chuckle out of it because—at least to me—it presents the all-too perfect Andersons in a slightly dysfunctional light.

The late Robert Young was a popular film actor who generally played nice, genial leading man roles—I never really cared for him since he was a little on the bland side. But he did turn in some interesting performances, particularly in films that showcased his darker side like The Mortal Storm (1940) (he plays a Hitler-Youth Nazi in that one!) and They Won’t Believe Me (1947). Young was also no stranger to radio; appearing on such series as The Frank Morgan Show (aka Maxwell House Coffee Time), Good News, and Passport for Adams (a 1943 wartime series in which he was the star). Both Good News and the Morgan show were sponsored by Maxwell House/General Foods; the company would also pay the bills for Father Knows Best—I’ve often wondered how the Sanka people felt about this when Young did a popular series of commercials for them in the 1970s.

The December 20, 1948 audition program for Father Knows Best, which is in circulation among OTR collectors, is an interesting, embryonic look at what would later become one of TV’s beloved family shows. The last name of the Anderson clan is Henderson in this early show, and Young’s father comes across as a bit of a numbskull--only slightly smarter than, say, Ozzie Nelson. It’s also interesting to note that Young’s patriarch comes across as a man who has a bit of a short fuse; you sometimes expect him to take a tip from The Stepfather and do away with the entire family when no one’s looking. The Anderson kids are also not the role models of the TV series; Betty is a bit on the spoiled and shallow side, and Kathy is pretty much an obnoxious brat. It has been speculated that the series in its early incarnation seemed to play out as if there were a question mark after the title.

But by 1953, the program found its niche and became fairly close to the classic TV show remembered by fans today. I listened to a broadcast from December 31, 1953 last night—which is particularly fitting, since the New Year is almost upon us. The Anderson clan are engaged in New Year’s preparations, particularly Jim and Margaret, who are getting the opportunity to ring in 1954 at a neighbor’s party since the children have plans to go elsewhere:

JIM: Hey, where’s the new black bowtie I bought to wear tonight?

BETTY (from the hall): Mother…!!!

JIM: I put it right here on the bed!

BETTY (entering the bedroom): Mother, I snagged these stockings…do you have an extra pair of real sheer dark ones?

MARGARET: Look in my top drawer…I think there’s one pair in there…

BETTY: Those are the ones I snagged…

MARGARET: Oh…well, did you look in the…

BETTY (interrupting): There’s none there either…

MARGARET: Well, maybe you can…

BETTY (interrupting again): That won’t work either…the only solution I can see, Mother, is for us to exchange stockings…

MARGARET: I should wear the snagged ones…???

BETTY: Well, after all, Mother…it doesn’t matter so much how you’re…uh…well, I mean…when a person gets to be…well, in a crowd of elderly married people who looks at anyone’s legs?

MARGARET: Well, there’s your father…and Mr. Davis…and Mr. Phillips, Mr. Liggett, Mr. Stevens…and Mr. Stewart…

JIM: Betty, have you seen an elderly black bow tie anywhere?

BETTY: Father, I’ve got problems of my own…

JIM: Oh, I’m sorry…

BUD (from the hall) Mom…???

MARGARET: Betty…I may be caught up in the Stanley Steamer crowd, but I plan to wear these stockings tonight even though…

BETTY (as she exits the bedroom): Oh wait—I think I might have another pair in my room…

BUD (still in the hall) Mom…!!!

JIM: I can’t imagine where that tie went to…

BUD (entering the bedroom): Mom, where’s that checked flannel shirt of mine?

MARGARET: Bud…you can’t wear that to a party…

BUD: It hasn’t got any holes in it…

MARGARET: I know that…

BUD: …and it’s clean…

MARGARET: Bud, I want you to dress up…

BUD: Why? All that’s gonna be there is just some fellas…and some girls…

JIM: Nobody but people, huh?

(snip)

JIM: Bud, wear your good shoes and stop badgering your mother…

BUD: Well…okay…if you want your boy to be a wallflower…

JIM: Wait a minute, Wallflower…do you know where my new…

BUD (exiting the bedroom): No!

JIM: I didn’t think so…now what do you suppose happened to that tie? Margaret, are you sure you didn’t pick it up?

MARGARET: I haven’t even seen the tie, Jim…

JIM: It was right here on the bed…

KATHY (from the hall): Mommy!

JIM: …now what could have happened to it?

KATHY (entering the bedroom): Mommy, how do I look in my new black hair ribbon?

MARGARET: Does that answer your question, Jim?

Though the role of Margaret Anderson was essayed by June Whitley in the early run of the radio series, by the time of this broadcast actress Jean VanderPyl had taken over the part. VanderPyl is perhaps best-known to today’s audiences as the voice of Wilma Flintstone on the prime-time animated cartoon series The Flintstones (1960-66), though her radio résumé included shows like The Halls of Ivy and Joan Davis Time.

The New Year’s preparations hit a snag when the friend that Kathy (Helen Strohm) had planned to spend the night with is taken ill (the girl apparently became sick after eating mistletoe), which necessitates the hiring of a baby sitter. The regular sitters used by Jim and Margaret are already booked up, but one of them sends her nephew Freddie Zollers (Gil Stratton, Jr.) in her place—Freddie is a handsome college student who immediately catches the eye of fickle little minx Betty (Rhoda Williams):

BUD: Hey, who’s he?

BETTY: Shhh…!!!

BUD: Who’s Freddie?

BETTY: That’s Kathy’s sitter…

BUD: Sitter? Howlin’ cats, Dad—get a load of that sitter…

BETTY: Who’s on the phone, Ralph?

JIM: Yes—did you say the sitter’s a he?

BUD: Take a peek in the dining room…

BETTY (taking the receiver) Hello? Oh yes, Ralph…well, no…I’m not ready yet…Ralph, I’m afraid I’m not going to make it…

BUD: See him, Dad?

JIM: Yeah…

BETTY: Well, Ralph, I have a simply, utterly crushing headache and I just don’t think I can go to the party tonight…

JIM: Now, wait a minute, Betty…

BETTY: Oh, I’m awfully sorry, Ralph…I just wouldn’t be any fun at all tonight…

JIM: Now listen here, Betty…

BETTY: Well, I’m sorry too, Ralph…but this came up awfully sudden…

JIM: It certainly did…

BETTY: Well, thank you, Ralph, I will…goodbye…

(SFX: phone hang-up)

JIM: Betty, I’m ashamed of you…

BETTY: But why, Father? You wouldn’t want me to go out with a crushing headache, would you?

JIM: No…no, of course not…in fact, now that I think of it…I’m glad you did that…

BETTY: You are?

JIM: Certainly! Now that you’re going to be home we won’t need the sitter…

You gotta get up pretty early in the morning to pull a fast one on Father Anderson, that's for sure. For the rest of the episode, as they say in Sitcomland, the wacky complications ensue—and by the show’s end, all of the Andersons (and Freddie) end up spending New Year’s Eve together at home.

Like many well-known film stars, Robert Young learned that a weekly radio series could prove to be quite lucrative, but Father Knows Best didn’t necessarily tie the actor down. While Young was on tour appearing in a play, his co-stars often joined him in each city to do their regular broadcast. Father Knows Best was one of the more successful radio shows to transplant to television, making its debut on October 3, 1954 and running on all three major networks (CBS, NBC and ABC) until 1963.

Joyeux Noel to all

Well, we're back from the holidays—and I hope each and every one of you had a great holiday season. The family and I congregated at my sister's house in Porterdale, GA (motto: "A great place to live...provided you're not too picky"). My little two-and-a-half year old niece really got a kick out of the Fisher-Price Fun Park I gave her for Christmas, so my Favorite Uncle status remains intact.

I was fortunate to get a couple of great OTR collections from Radio Spirits under the tree; The Best of Suspense (I love the artwork on this package, by the way) and The Best of Amos 'n' Andy. The Amos 'n' Andy set contains a great 32-page historical booklet co-authored by the authority on the show, Elizabeth McLeod. The Suspense collection also has a supplemental booklet, with many contributions from Martin Grams, Jr. (Martin's book on Suspense is on a limited availability basis, by the way--if you're interested, you need to grab it while you can.) So rest assured, there will be no shortage of great OTR programs to discuss.

When I returned from my trip, I was heartened to find the last copy of Good Old Days magazine in the mailbox, because there's a nice nostalgia piece on old-time radio entitled "I Miss Mortimer Snerd." The Good Old Days magazine has a special nostalgic pull on me, by the way; my grandfather had a subscription to it for many years and every Sunday when we went to visit my grandparents I would pore through the back copies, reading the articles and old Sunday comics reprints. (It was in this magazine that I found an ad for the Radiola record company, which I cut out and ordered some cassettes, making it my first official OTR purchase.) I got a subscription to Good Old Days magazine sometime in March and I have to say, sadly, it's not the magazine it used to be. (I guess Thomas Wolfe was right about not being able to go back home again.) But every now and then, there's something worth reading—and OTR dealer Carl Froelich still advertises in the magazine!

Bah humbug!

It’s perhaps the most familiar of all Christmas-themed stories—the tale of a cold, unfeeling miser (whose last name has become synonymous with any individual demonstrating negative feelings toward the holiday season) who repents and changes his grasping ways after being visited by three spirits on Christmas Eve. Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol has provided material for movies, television—and especially old-time radio, where during Radio’s Golden Age it became what author John Dunning calls “radio’s best-loved single program.” Many actors have taken at turn at portraying Ebenezer Scrooge on radio—among them Edmund Gwenn, Ronald Coleman, and Basil Rathbone—but no actor became more identified with the role than Lionel Barrymore.

Barrymore was practically a Christmas staple as the radio version of Dickens’ famous miser from 1934-53, in many different lengths and formats: dramatic anthologies, variety shows and specials, and even his own starring program, Mayor of the Town. The broadcast that I tuned in to last night showcased his appearance on the Campbell Playhouse from December 24, 1939. It’s a stupendous production, aided immeasurably by Campbell Playhouse star Orson Welles’ narration (Welles had played Scrooge the previous year in Barrymore’s absence) and the wonderful Mercury Theatre company of players: Frank Readick, Everett Sloane, George Coulouris—even a young Bea Benaderet, who plays a small dramatic role that is a far cry from her more familiar work with Burns & Allen and Jack Benny.

But it’s truly Barrymore’s show—he creates an indelible impression as Scrooge, and I can’t help but think that his association with the character influenced Frank Capra’s decision to cast Lionel as the Scrooge-like Mr. Potter in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946). I particularly enjoyed how Barrymore captures the character’s sadness and melancholy that is more responsible for Scrooge's current condition than any ingrown evil or greed; he's definitely a three-dimensional character. (I should probably point out that while Barrymore is fantastic, the yardstick by which I measure the role still belongs to Alastair Sim in the classic 1951 film version.)

I probably don’t need to summarize the plot of A Christmas Carol since I’m sure everyone knows it by heart—it’s such a great story that even if Dickens had never written anything else he’d still be as revered as he is today. The story even proved to be flexibly serviceable as fodder for other OTR broadcasts—from comedies like Blondie (12/25/39) and Duffy’s Tavern (12/21/45) to dramas like Richard Diamond, Private Detective (12/24/49) and The Six Shooter (12/20/53). Speaking for myself, it’s a timeless story that I never get tired of hearing, whether it’s the original or a variation of such. I think this one passage really hits home:

FRED: There are many things from which I derive good by which I have not profited materially, I dare say, Uncle…Christmas among the rest…But I have always thought of Christmas as a good time—a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time—and therefore, Uncle…though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it has done me good and will do me good…and I say, “God bless us.”

I’m going to be taking a week off to spend some time with my family in North Georgia, so I guess this means Thrilling Days of Yesteryear will be taking a hiatus until December 27th. Until then, I want to wish each and every one of you best wishes for the season—Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas, everybody!

R.I.P, Les Tremayne

Barbara J. Watkins reported on The Old-Time Radio Digest that we lost radio actor Les Tremayne yesterday, who passed away at the age of 90.

Tremayne was one of old-time radio's busiest actors--perhaps best remembered for playing the male lead on The First Nighter Program from 1936-43. But his versatility was amazing: he did crime dramas (The Falcon, The Thin Man), soap operas (The Romance of Helen Trent, Wendy Warren and the News), dramatic anthologies (Author's Playhouse, Grand Hotel)--he even played straight man to The Great One himself, Jackie Gleason, on a 1944 summer program called Double Feature! He was also one of the many old pros who participated in the all-too-brief attempt to revive old-time radio in the 1970s, The CBS Radio Mystery Theater.

Tremayne also did some outstanding film work, including roles in The Racket (1951), The War of the Worlds (1953), Forbidden Planet (as the film's narrator) (1956), and a great bit as the auctioneer in one of my favorite movies, North By Northwest (1959). It's funny, though--before I got into OTR, as a kid, I was most familiar with Tremayne as "Mentor" on the CBS Saturday morning kids' show Shazam! (1974-77).

Recently, Tremayne wrote the foreword for Chuck Schaden's wonderful book Speaking of Radio, in addition to being one of the interviewees. RIP, Mr. Tremayne. You'll always be a "Mentor" to me.

Christmas with Verna

Continuing with the sounds of the Christmas season, I listened to another holiday-themed broadcast of The Red Skelton Program last night, as originally heard over NBC Radio on December 25, 1945. My favorite Skelton shows are those broadcast between 1945-50, and the topicality of joking about food shortages is prevalent in this Christmas gift exchange between Red and announcer Rod O’Connor:

ROD: Well, speaking of gifts—here’s mine to you…uh, did anyone give you an electric toaster?

RED: Well, not that I know of…

ROD: Well, in case they do…this will come in handy…

RED: Gee…a loaf of bread! Gosh, you shouldn’t have done it, really…

ROD: Red…in the middle of the loaf…you’ll find three slices buttered…

RED: No kiddin’? Why did you say it—how will I get it home now? My life won’t be worth a nickel…well, here’s my gift to you…

ROD: Aw gee, Red…that’s swell…and it’s so beautifully wrapped, too…

RED: Yeah, in case you missed the news yesterday, that newspaper will come in handy…

The show’s vocalist, Anita Ellis, sings a nice version of “Toyland” and then we are treated to an early version of the Clem Kadiddlehopper Christmas-tree-salesman sketch that I commented on in an earlier post. Here, Clem’s girlfriend is played by actress GeGe Pearson:

SARAH DEW: Oh, howdy, Clem!

CLEM: Well, Sarah Dew! Howdy doody to you, too! Gee, you look like a million dollars tonight…

SARAH: Well, have you ever seen a million dollars, Clem?

CLEM: Nope…that’s what I mean…you look like somethin’ I ain’t never seen (to audience) She didn’t get, it’s too fast for her…

(snip)

CLEM: Say, what did Santy Claus…uh…gonna bring ya, did you tell him what you wanted yet? I did…

SARAH: Oh, Clem…aren’t ya just a little too big fer Santa Claus? You are an adult…

CLEM: Now, just a minute! Let’s not spread that around…it may mean what I think it does…

SARAH: Well, what did you ask fer?

CLEM: Page 30 of Esquire in person! Boy, oh boy! Finest picture of a bird dog I ever seen…beautiful girls, too…

SARAH: Oh, Clem…don’t talk like an idiot…you know them girls there…them there models are jest a dime a dozen…

CLEM: A dime a dozen? For them models? Gee, and I’ve been buying licorice all this time…

Then Rod O’Connor arrives on the scene, and the skit continues in the vein of the December 19, 1951 show—concrete proof that the concept of recycling was nothing new to both comedians and their writers.

When Skelton returned to the airwaves on December 4, 1945 after his hitch in the military, his program featured a mostly brand-new cast, including veteran radio actress Verna Felton. Felton kept quite busy during the Golden Age of Radio, appearing on the Abbott & Costello, Joan Davis, Judy Canova, and Rudy Vallee shows. She was also a regular on such radio sitcoms as Point Sublime, Meet Mr. McNutley, and My Little Margie (she played neighbor Mrs. Odetts on the radio version, the TV version starred Gertrude Hoffman). Prior to her work on the Skelton show, her most famous radio role as that of Dennis Day’s mother on The Jack Benny Program. She was prominently featured in that part when the tenor made his first appearances in 1939; Mrs. Day was a feisty old battleaxe who would constantly berate Benny for exploiting her son. When Jack would protest to the contrary (although there was a small kernel of truth to her accusations as Dennis was contractually obligated to mow Benny’s lawn every week) she would usually cut him off with an “Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh—shut up!”

Verna proved to be the perfect foil for Red’s “mean widdle kid” character, playing Grandma (or “Namaw,” as Junior called her) to his memorable little demon-on-wheels. In this December 25, 1945 show, she’s taken him to a department store to visit Santa Claus:

NAMAW: Goodness, this store is really crowded…

JUNIOR: Ain’t it crowded though? And what an inspiration…boy, what a spot to yell “fire” in…

NAMAW: Junior! You wouldn’t do anything naughty like that now, would you? (laughing) You’re kidding me…

JUNIOR (laughing with her): Yeah, you just keep laughing, kiddo, that’s all…you take these handcuffs off me, I’ll show ya, boy…

NAMAW: Junior, now stay with Grandma…

JUNIOR: Yes, ma’am…I won’t run away because if I got lost you would worry…

NAMAW: Yes I would, Junior…I’d be afraid I might find you again…

JUNIOR: Boy…you sure does love me, don’t ya, huh…

NAMAW: I can’t figure out why you’re so good all of a sudden…

JUNIOR: It’s the night before Christmas and all through the house…nothing is stirring, not even this louse….

NAMAW: Now, now…this good behavior just before Christmas won’t get you anywhere…

JUNIOR: Well, what has I done wrong this year?

NAMAW: I’ll tell you…

JUNIOR: No, no…never mind, never mind…I know, you know…but let’s keep it away from Santa Claus, huh? He’s not interested in these domestic problems…besides, why make him change his list at this late date, you know?

Felton also played a funny role in some of Red’s later CBS programs—a cantankerous next-door neighbor named Mrs. Fussy. But she wasn’t just constricted to radio—she had a busy career in films, with roles in The Gunfighter (1950), Don’t Bother to Knock (1952), and Picnic (1955). (In an interesting bit of casting, she also plays the part of Junior’s mother in Red Skelton’s 1948 screen comedy The Fuller Brush Man—in which his salesman character runs into the “mean widdle kid” from the radio show.) Add to this a recurring role as Hilda Crocker on the TV sitcom December Bride (she was sidekick to Spring Byington’s Lily Ruskin) and much voice work in Disney films (Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Sleeping Beauty) and it’s no surprise that she is so fondly remembered by classic film and OTR fans alike.

Junior finally gets to talk to the “big man from the North Pole”; actor Arthur Q. Bryan guest stars as St. Nicholas, as Junior sits on his lap:

JUNIOR: My, look at that nice, long beard you has…it’s so soft it looks like five o’clock shadow with snow in it, don’t it? Boy, if I only had a pair of scissors (laughs) I kiddin’, I kiddin’…I wouldn’t touch it…

SANTA: And what would you like more than anything else?

JUNIOR: Well…a pair of scissors, I guess…

SANTA (laughing) Let’s talk about you…have you been a good boy?

JUNIOR: No, let’s talk about you, huh…you is really a nice old man, you know…I’ve been a pretty good boy…

SANTA: You wouldn’t be trying to flatter me, would you?

JUNIOR: You a trusting old soul, ain’t ya?

SANTA: Have you been a good boy?

JUNIOR: Well…for the past week…I will admit I has been pretty good but it makes me sick to think about it, you know…

SANTA: What about the other 358 days?

JUNIOR: Well…I ain’t been idle, you know…

Blending smiles with pathos, Skelton’s Junior asks Santa Claus only for a Christmas tree—and several other unselfish things, like the elimination of prejudice and war, and a hope that things will be easier in postwar times. I have to say, this particular broadcast was even better than the previous one I listened to—with some solid laughs and lovely holiday music throughout.