Ozzie and Harriet Nelson achieved a true rarity in the annals of popular culture—their first names have become an indelible part of the American lexicon, signifying the typical, wholesome married couple. The very mention of their names was guaranteed to convulse audiences; on an October 3, 1948 broadcast of The Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show the Frankie Remley character (played by Elliott Lewis) brings down the house when responding to Phil’s remarks about how he and Alice should sell themselves to their new sponsor: “Why don’t you tell him you’re Ozzie & Harriet?”
Oswald George Nelson didn’t start out to have a career in show business—his band was merely a financial sideline to put himself through Rutgers University
The Nelsons were wed in 1935, and a spot on comedian Joe Penner’s Bakers Broadcast was their introduction to a nationwide radio audience, an engagement they continued even after Penner departed the program and was replaced by Believe it or Not’s Robert L. Ripley. But their main claim to fame was their three-year stint on The Red Skelton Show from 1941-44: not only did they provide the musical entertainment, but Harriet was recruited to play many of the female characters on the show. (Ozzie, not wanting to be left out, soon took on some of the program's extra comedy roles himself.)
After Red was drafted in May 1944, Ozzie began to look for work on another program—but in an interview with Harriet in Chuck Schaden’s Speaking of Radio, she relates that it was Fibber McGee & Molly writer Don Quinn who planted the seed of suggestion that Ozzie should write his own show. With audition record in hand, radio producer John Guedel (People Are Funny, You Bet Your Life) flew to New York October 8, 1944 —the date of the Nelson’s ninth wedding anniversary—The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet made its debut over CBS Radio. According to Chuck’s interview with Harriet:
He [Ozzie] wrote the first show like a day off in the life of a bandleader and his vocalist wife. It was a wild comedy. Jack Douglas was one of the writers, and J.P. Medwick [sic]. But it didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t a sensible kind of thing. It was just wild comedy. Then it eventually grew. Before we’d done, I would say, five or six shows, it started to get more “legit.”
Wild comedy or no, it should be pointed out that the “Adventures” in the show’s title was a bit of a misnomer; the Nelson family rarely experienced anything on that grand a scale. The plots for the show was fairly simple: Ozzie, the befuddled but lovable patriarch of the family, would set his mind to some notion—convinced that his wife had no “sales resistance,” for example—and would press on determinedly until the inevitable disaster had pretty run much its course. There were more than a few similarities between Ozzie and Chester A. Riley of The Life of Riley, except Ozzie had a little more moxie on the ball. Harriet fulfilled the role of the patient, understanding wife and the Nelson’s two sons—David and Ricky—would toss in a few wisecracks for good measure.
At first, the Nelson children were portrayed by professional child actors—Joel Davis, then Tommy Bernard in the role of David, and Henry Blair was Ricky—because Ozzie was determined not to expose his sons to the experience of big-time radio at so young an age. But after a December 5, 1948 broadcast that featured guest Bing Crosby and his son Lindsay, David and Ricky asked their father why they couldn’t play themselves if Bing’s son was allowed to play himself. Stuck for an answer, Ozzie finally relented and the two boys were called into service to develop "a flair for the buskin" beginning in April 1949.
I listened to a broadcast from November 7. 1948 last night, entitled “Ozzie is in a Rut.” It’s a cute show, as Ozzie becomes concerned that his life’s routine had become a little too hum-drum. The crisis begins shortly after breakfast in the Nelson household at 1847 Rogers Road
HARRIET: More coffee, dear?
OZZIE: No, thanks…
HARRIET: You didn’t finish your eggs, did you?
OZZIE: Oh, I had plenty, thanks…how come you fried them this morning?
HARRIET: Oh, I don’t know, dear…it’s just that you’ve had boiled eggs every morning for so long I thought I’d give you a little change and fry them…you didn’t like them, did you?
OZZIE: Well…uh…I ate them…most of them…
HARRIET: Yes, but you didn’t like them…I can tell…you didn’t smile…
OZZIE: Well, I never smile when I’m eating eggs…that is, unless it’s a wide egg sandwich or something…
HARRIET: I’m sorry, I thought you might like them a little different for a change…
OZZIE: Well, there’s nothing wrong with them, it’s…well, it’s just that you sort of get used to a certain breakfast…I just figure why change something just for the sake of changing…
HARRIET: I suppose that’s a masculine attitude…personally, I like to do things differently once in a while…get a fresh outlook…maybe I’m just in a reckless mood today…I’ve been thinking of having my hair cut…how do you think I’d look with one of the new short haircuts?
OZZIE: Well, I…I wouldn’t want you to get a crewcut…
HARRIET: Don’t be silly, dear…you know I’d never get a crewcut in the winter…it’s much too cold…
(snip)
HARRIET: You know, it’s funny how men get set in their ways…seems to be a masculine trait to resist any sort of change…you’re used to boiled eggs—fried won’t do…you’re used to seeing my hair long, so you don’t want me to get it cut…
OZZIE: Well, it isn’t a question of men being set in their ways…at least, I’m not…I like my eggs boiled, I’ve liked them boiled for years…just because I like the same things year after year doesn’t mean I’m set in my ways…
HARRIET: What does it mean?
OZZIE: Well, it means I’m in a rut…I’m…er…uh…I just like certain things…the fact of the matter is, I don’t care how you fix my eggs and I don’t care how you wear your hair…have it cut short, fry it, boil it, poach it…
Ozzie goes next door to see his neighbor, “Thorny” Thornberry, a sardonic but jovial type who often gave Ozzie bad advice--much in the same way that Jim Gillis, the neighbor on The Life of Riley, would put in his unneeded two cents. This could be due to the fact that both roles on both shows were played by the same actor, John Brown:
OZZIE: Let me ask you one thing, Thorny…how do you like your eggs cooked?
THORNY: Sunny side up…are we going to eat here in the yard?
OZZIE: Now, I happen to be a guy who likes boiled eggs in the morning…all of a sudden, out of a clear sky…I get fried eggs this morning…
THORNY: Well, I hope you didn’t take a thing like that sitting down, Oz…if I were you, I’d object plenty…run an ad in the paper: “I will not be responsible for any eggs fried by my wife…”
OZZIE: It’s not only the eggs…it’s a whole big silly thing…what would you say, Thorny, if your wife walked up right now and said she wanted to have her hair cut? Would you object?
THORNY: I certainly would…I’d put my foot down…I’d tell her, “Positively not!”
OZZIE: That’s right, Thorny…because you like her hair the way it is…nice and long…
THORNY: Well, not necessarily long, Oz…I just want her to have hair…she had it cut yesterday…
OZZIE: Just because I like Harriet’s hair the way it is and my eggs boiled, right away I’m set in my ways…you’ve known me for years, Thorny—am I set in my ways? Am I a stick in the mud? A fuddy-duddy? Narrow-minded? The answer is no…
THORNY: Oz…if you ask me a question, let me answer it…
Another popular character on Ozzie and Harriet was Harriet’s mother—who was usually only heard chatting with her daughter on the telephone. Mom was played by actress Lurene Tuttle, who inherited the female roles formerly played by Harriet on Red Skelton’s program:
MOTHER: Oh, I almost forgot, Harriet, now listen to this…on the way downtown this morning, I saw the most beautiful beige rug in the Emporium window…just perfect for your living room…
HARRIET: I’m way ahead of you, Mother…
MOTHER: You’ve seen it?
HARRIET: Mm hmm…yesterday…in fact, I’m having it delivered tonight while Ozzie’s at the bowling alley…
MOTHER: You’re going to surprise him?
HARRIET: Uh…in a way, yes…you know how men resist any changes around the house…I figure if he walks in and there it is, in familiar surroundings…he’s much more apt to like it…
MOTHER: Oh, just like your father…I remember I wanted new kitchen linoleum once…so I had the man put it down…had it all waxed before you father came home…
HARRIET: Did he like it?
MOTHER: I think he would have if he hadn’t broken his arm when he walked in…
Ozzie would get additional ill-timed advice from another of the show’s characters, teenaged Emmy Lou (played in breathless-Corliss-Archer-style by actress Janet Waldo). The giggly teen tells Ozzie about a Tyrone Power film she saw the other night that featured a very irresponsible man:
EMMY: Oh…what carefree lovers they were…they kissed on the street…they kissed on the bus…they kissed in crowded railroad stations…they wanted people to see them kissing…even when the hero took the heroine home, he’d strike a match so that people could see them kissing goodnight…
OZZIE: Well, that’s…very interesting, Emmy…but I gotta get down to the drugstore…
EMMY: Oh, he was so romantic…so unpredictable…toward the end of the picture he held the girl in his arms…everyone in the theater thought they would get married…but they didn’t…he didn’t even kiss her!
OZZIE: Maybe he ran out of matches…
EMMY: You should have seen him…he wouldn’t work…he was undependable…he was fickle…he had bad habits…he’d beat her…he was irresponsible…he didn’t earn a living…he borrowed money from her…he told lies, he cheated, he gambled…gee, he was cute…
The power of suggestion, generated from his conversation with Emmy Lou, begins to work on Ozzie, and he decides to “shake things up”: instead of the usual pint of chocolate and pint of vanilla he buys at the drugstore on Wednesdays, he decides to get a quart of tutti-fruitti. He shows up nearly late for dinner, having taken a cab home from the drugstore (it’s only a block), and suggests to Harriet that instead of the usual six o'clock dinnertime, she should make it 6:09 . He reads the paper on the floor instead of his usual easy chair, and he even decides that rather than going bowling, he’s going to look for and play his old banjo, much to Harriet’s dismay:
HARRIET: Have you forgotten tonight is your bowling night? Oh my goodness, it’s eight o’clock …you’d better hurry, dear…I put your shoes and bowling ball right by the front door, so you don’t even have to go upstairs…
OZZIE: You don’t understand, Harriet—I’m not going bowling tonight…
HARRIET: But you have to! The man…uh…I mean…that is…
OZZIE: What man?
HARRIET: …the man who lives next door…yes, that’s it! Thorny…you wouldn’t want to disappoint Thorny, your old pal…
OZZIE: Yeah, that would be a dirty trick, wouldn’t it…well, if you insist…hey…Harriet, stop pushing me!!!
HARRIET: I wasn’t pushing you, dear…I was just…patting you on the back because it’s so good of you not to disappoint a friend…
OZZIE: That’s the first time I’ve ever been patted on the back with two hands and a knee…
Ozzie is no sooner out the door when he and Thorny spot a fellow lodge brother named Mulligan (Jack Kirkwood) near the Nelson residence:
THORNY: Say, what are you doing over in this neck of the woods…?
MULLIGAN: Well, I came over here to deliver a rug…some woman had to have it put down tonight…her husband’s a bonehead that don’t like to have things changed around…
OZZIE: What the address on it?
MULLIGAN: Uh…1847 Rogers Road
The newly “unpredictable” Ozzie talks Thorny and Mulligan into helping him play a practical joke on Harriet: they’ll roll him up in the rug and bring him into the house so he can surprise her. Except that Harriet has decided that she may just leave the rug rolled-up in the corner until Ozzie gets home…
The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet ran from 1944 to 1949 for their sponsor, International Silver on CBS (with a brief season on NBC in 1948) and then moved to ABC in the fall of 1949 when the Heinz Foods Company started paying the bills. But, as with so many old-time radio comedies, they decided to take the plunge into television—and the pilot for the show was an interesting novelty: the Nelson family appeared in a feature film entitled Here Come the Nelsons in 1952. The radio version finally called it quits in 1954.
If you’re familiar at all with The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, it is due no doubt to their phenomenally successful TV sitcom, which ran on ABC from 1952-66; a show that, especially in reruns, remains a quaint and curious artifact from a more “innocent” era. Having viewed a goodly portion of these old shows (they used to be a staple on the cable channel GoodLife TV—or as I refer to it: “the place where old TV shows go to die”), I’m pleasantly surprised at how sweetly funny and entertaining they remain today. But I’m pretty much in agreement with Ozzie and Harriet writer Sol Saks: “On radio it was considered a highly rated script show; we won awards for the scripts. On TV I don’t think the show was, frankly, very good. It was not near as good.”
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