“Gotta straighten out that closet one of these days…”

March 5, 1940: Fibber McGee & Molly, one of radio’s top-rated comedy shows, introduces a routine that will not only become one of the show’s most popular running gags—but one of old-time radio’s most memorable sound effects as well.

FIBBER: …This writer says that if conditions keep up, the small farmer will be completely “annihiliated”…hey, what’s “annihiliated”?

MOLLY: “Annihiliated”…

FIBBER: Yeah…

MOLLY: Why, that means, uh…well, when a farmer, uh…well, now, for instance, uh…

FIBBER: Where’s the dictionary?

MOLLY: It’s probably in the closet with the rest of your stuff…give me your key and I’ll get it for you…

FIBBER: Oh, no you don’t…you lay off the stuff in that closet…I got all my stuff arranged in there just the way I want it…

MOLLY: Now, don’t be silly…give me the key…

FIBBER (sighing): Okay…now let’s see, which one of these is it…

MOLLY: Heavenly days…why do you carry all those keys? Does it make you feel important or something…?

FIBBER: What do you mean, important…every one of those keys is necessary!

MOLLY: What’s that little key there for?

FIBBER: Well…that’s a padlock key…

MOLLY: What padlock?

FIBBER: For the backyard gate we used to have in Peoria…

MOLLY: What are you keeping that for, are you homesick?

FIBBER: No…but if we ever move back to Peoria, I’d try to rent the same house because this key fits the padlock there…you gotta think ahead in these things…and you see this key here?

MOLLY: Looks like the key to a can of salmon…

FIBBER: No, sardines…I use that to clean my pipe with…

MOLLY: Ohhhh…I see…

FIBBER: Now let’s see…which one of these keys is the closet door key…?

MOLLY: Say, maybe we better see if the closet is locked…let me take a look…

FIBBER: Oh, it’s locked all right…you don’t think I’d leave all my personal defects layin’ around for any prowler to get his hands on…

(SFX: door opening, thump of a box falling)

MOLLY: McGee…it isn’t locked…it’s…(SFX: Another box and additional stuff falling) Better give me a hand, McGee—this stuff is all falling out…(SFX: more thuds and clatter, building to a crescendo of a junk avalanche) Oh…ohhhh…help, McGee…I’m buried alive! Get this junk off of me!

Radio historian John Dunning once observed that there were at least three shows frequently cited by people to define what we know today as old-time radio: The Shadow, The Lone Ranger…and Fibber McGee & Molly. The show’s stars, Jim (Fibber McGee) and Marian (Molly) Jordan, were small-time Chicago vaudevillians who got in on radio’s ground floor in 1924 and close to a decade later, headlined a comedy program that became the linchpin for NBC’s powerful Tuesday night lineup. Fibber McGee & Molly would last on NBC Radio in various forms and formats for nearly thirty years.

The program premiered on April 16, 1935 over NBC Blue for Johnson’s Wax. The Jordans were chosen by the Johnson’s people after the sponsor’s wife heard their program Smackout (a comedy/soap opera hybrid that was broadcast five-days-a-week in the afternoons), which was created for them by writer/aspiring cartoonist Don Quinn (whom the Jordans had met at WENR during their Chicago days). Quinn was one of the major forces behind the success of Fibber McGee & Molly; the program’s somewhat simple vaudeville-influenced format was given an extra boost by Quinn’s witty writing style—relying on clever wordplay and the insertion of amusing character types into the show’s plots. Quinn developed the character of Fibber McGee as a small-town, talkative braggart—a “serial exaggerator”, if you will—who was simply unable to engage in any conversation without reciting a litany of tall tales. Molly (in the early days of the show, anyway) was Fibber’s wife and severest critic; a crotchety shrew with an Irish brogue who was responsible for bringing her fibbing husband back to reality with a stern rebuke of “McGee!” As the series progressed, the Molly character was softened; she became much more good-natured and supportive of her husband (whom she often referred to as “Himself”) despite his propensity for exaggeration. Molly became such a beloved part of the program that her absence from 1937-39 was surely missed (the name of the show became Fibber McGee & Company for a brief time). The “fibber” qualities of McGee were also toned down as well; in later years, Fibber became more of a lovable comic bumbler who generally managed to bungle any chore he approached.

It is interesting to note that the domestic-comedy of Fibber McGee & Molly that fans know and love started out in a different format during the program’s early days. The original premise had the McGees traveling around in a dilapidated old jalopy encountering various situations—and long-time announcer Harlow Wilcox—on the road, primarily to promote Carnu (an automobile polish product of Johnson’s Wax). By September 1935, it was decided that the comic couple would concentrate on selling Johnson’s household wax, and through the dumb luck of a winning raffle ticket, Fibber and Molly soon found themselves putting down stakes at one of old-time radio’s best-known addresses—79 Wistful Vista. Every week, the show revolved around routine, everyday life: Fibber generally had either some household task to perform or he was trying to get out of doing the same. A cast of colorful zanies would descend upon the McGee house during the half-hour; offering not much in the way of help, but providing big laughs--originating from such talented comic performers like Bill Thompson, Isabel Randolph, and Harold Peary.

Bill Thompson was responsible for most of the memorable supporting roles on Fibber McGee & Molly, so much so that his absence was clearly felt when Thompson joined the Navy in 1942. His first contribution to the show was Nick Depopoulous, a Greek restaurant owner whose distinguishing characteristic was mangling the English language through continued use of malaprops. Thompson also voiced Horatio K. Boomer (also known as Widdicomb Blotto), Wistful Vista’s resident con man whose sonorous tones bore a striking resemblance to those of comedian W.C. Fields. One of Thompson’s most popular vocalizations was the Old Timer (although the role was first played by Cliff Arquette), a half-deaf old codger (“What say, daughter?”) who commented on Fibber’s brags and fibs:

FIBBER: The last boarder we had was a tap-dancer…kept me awake all morning…I finally got tired of it and knocked him cold with one of his steel-plated shoes and stuffed him into his own trunk…

OLD-TIMER: Eh?

MOLLY: Incidentally, McGee…where did you ship that trunk…?

FIBBER: Off to Buffalo…wow!

OLD-TIMER: (laughing) That’s purty good, Johnny…but that ain’t the way I heerd it…the way I heerd it, one feller says t’other feller…”Saaaaaaaaay,” he says…”I see where Scarlett O’Hara got the Academy Award.” “Yep,” says t’other feller…”she lost out with Rhett but she sure got her Oscar…”

But the best of Thompson’s contributions to the show would come about a year after this broadcast in the form of Wallace Wimple, a henpecked, mush-mouthed bird-watcher who generally complained about his domineering spouse “Sweetie Face” (“that’s my big ol’ wife”). Thompson’s distinctive Wimplian tones were used in a variety of other characters outside the McGee show—most notably as the voice of MGM’s popular cartoon dog-star Droopy and, in a later incarnation, the voice of Hanna-Barbera’s animated cartoon star Touché Turtle.

Isabel Randolph did a variety of “snooty” character-types before settling into the long-running role of wealthy high-society dowager Abigail Uppington (“Uppy” to Fibber). One of the funniest sub-plots of the series had her being romanced by the disreputable Horatio K. Boomer, but on this March 5, 1940 broadcast she appears to have set her sights on the show’s musical conductor Billy Mills:

FIBBER: I hear they kind of had an accident during rehearsal the other night, Uppy…

ABIGAIL: Oh, yes, and it was so embarrassing…

FIBBER: That so?

ABIGAIL: Yes, the musician playing the electric guitar reached for a high note…and blew every fuse in the building…

MOLLY: Oh my…

ABIGAIL: But those dear, dear boys went right on playing…just as if nothing had happened…

MOLLY: Really, Mrs. Uppington? But how could they read their music in the dark?

ABIGAIL: Oh, my dear—that’s exactly what I asked Dr. Mills…and he says in his most delightful manner: “Don’t worry about it, babe…those mugs can’t even read music when the lights are on…”

Singer-performer Harold Peary also played a wide variety of roles on the program before being cast as Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve, Fibber’s next-door neighbor and rival/sparring partner. Gildersleeve was the only person who was windbag enough to match Fibber bluff for bluff—and the character became so popular that Gildy found himself in his own spin-off (one of radio’s first), The Great Gildersleeve. (But that’s a blog entry for another day.)

(SFX: front door opens)

GILDY: Ah there, McGee…

FIBBER: Oh, it’s you…

GILDY: Yes, just thought I’d come by and tell you that…well, my goodness, what’s all this?

FIBBER: Oh, just something out of my closet…I’m straightening it out…hey, Gildersleeve! Put that hatchet down!

GILDY: I’ll do no such thing…that’s my Boy Scout hatchet you borrowed last summer!

FIBBER: Dad-drat it, it ain’t nothing of the kind! That’s my Boy Scout hatchet! Look at the insignia on the handle there…Owl Patrol!

GILDY: Well, I belonged to the Owl Patrol myself…

FIBBER: Oh yeah? Heh heh…you in the Owl Patrol…why you don’t even know the password of the Owl Patrol…

GILDY (menacingly) Who?

FIBBER: Well…somebody must have told you…listen here, Gildersleeve…I’ll bet you don’t know a thing about scouting…

GILDY: I do, too! I was an Eagle Scout with twenty-six merit badges…

FIBBER: Aw, go on…can you tie a sheep shank? Can you imitate the mating cry of the chimney swallow? Can you tell which way is north when you’re the lost in the woods?

GILDY: Certainly!

FIBBER: How?

GILDY: I face South and then turn around quick…

Throughout the remaining years, Fibber McGee & Molly added other supporting players: Gale Gordon (who best-known role was that of Mayor LaTrivia), Bea Benaderet (her role of Mrs. Millicent Carstairs was introduced after the Abigail Uppington character was phased out), and Arthur Q. Bryan (whose Doc Gamble characterization filled the void left by Peary’s Gildersleeve getting his own show.)

At the time of this March 5, 1940 broadcast, Fibber McGee & Molly was holding its own among the other popular comedy shows of the air, among them Jack Benny, Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy, and Bob Hope. But writer Don Quinn was looking for a gimmick to boost the program's popularity—and the inspiration came from Jim Jordan’s reminiscence of a running gag they had used on an earlier show he and Marian had performed on during the 1920s: The Smith Family. On that program, a broken sofa spring in the Smith house produced a funny sound whenever a character would sit down on the couch. Quinn took that idea and ran with it; showcasing a closet in the McGee household containing all the junk that the couple had collected over the years:

MOLLY: Oh…dear oh dear…look at all this junk that fell out of that closet…

FIBBER: Don’t worry, I’ll put it back, Molly, I’ll…

MOLLY: Oh no, you won’t…

FIBBER: Huh?

MOLLY: We’re going to go through that pile of whatnots and throw everything out we don’t need…

FIBBER: Oh yeah? Well, I’ve been through this stuff a hundred times and there ain’t a thing of it than I can spare…

MOLLY: Oh, there isn’t…?

FIBBER: No.

MOLLY: What’s this old rusty horseshoe for?

FIBBER: Well, I found that in nineteen-ought-eleven…soon as I find three more we can pitch horseshoes in the back yard…

MOLLY: I see…you expect to find three more, huh?

FIBBER: You betcha…

MOLLY: You don’t think the automobile is here to stay, eh?

FIBBER: It won’t be, if we can’t catch up with the payments…

This simple but funny gag would become ingrained in the American psyche for years and years to come, as the term “Fibber McGee closets” would be used to describe those storage areas with an excess of useless items. During the series’ run, the closet was spotlighted a total of 128 times, with Fibber generally being the victim of the resulting tumbling bric-a-brac (83 occurrences). Quinn applied the gag sparingly to keep it from being overused; he also possessed a keen sense of how to surprise the audience—the March 11, 1947 broadcast showcases Doc Gamble opening the closet…to utter silence, as nothing falls out. It generated even bigger laughs, as it was the only time on the program that that happened.

Also featured on this broadcast is a surprise visit from comedienne Gracie Allen. Gracie and husband George Burns had been mainstays on radio since February 1932, but their program had recently taken a dip in the ratings and it was decided that Gracie’s run for the Presidency might help turn the tide:

MOLLY: Well, hello, Gracie…won’t you come in?

GRACIE: Oh, no thank you, Molly…and I wouldn’t have dropped in if I’d knew you were entertaining…

FIBBER: Oh, we ain’t entertaining…

GRACIE: Oh, you are, too…I think you’re very entertaining…

MOLLY: Oh, my…

GRACIE: Now you say something nice about George and me.

MOLLY: Oh…a TL, huh…?

GRACIE: Yes…

MOLLY: Well, I heard, Gracie…that the difference between our shows is that yours is always in the middle of the week…and ours is always weak in the middle…

GRACIE: Oh…(laughs)

FIBBER: Gracie, what’s this I hear about you running for President of the United States?

GRACIE: Oh, there’s nothing to it…

MOLLY: Oh, you mean you’re not running for President, huh?

GRACIE: Oh, I mean I’ll be elected, there’s nothing to it…

This was not the first time Burns & Allen would utilize a gimmick to goose the popularity of their show: in 1933, Burns and his writers (from an idea conceived by CBS executive Bob Taplinger) concocted a stunt whereupon Gracie was involved in a hunt for her missing brother. Gracie would often barge in unannounced on other programs—including the Rudy Vallee, Eddie Cantor and Jack Benny shows—seeking his whereabouts. Newspapers and magazines quickly got into the act; and Gracie’s real-life brother George—who was not amused in the slightest by the gimmick—ended up going into hiding to escape the publicity. The 1940 Gracie for President campaign helped Burns & Allen’s show a little, but it was not until 1942—when the show changed its format to more domestic-type sitcom—that the couple found themselves back among the popular radio comedies of that time.

Listening to Fibber McGee & Molly today, there is an undeniable corniness about the show, but it’s redeemed by some remarkably witty puns and wordplay courtesy of scribe Quinn:

MOLLY: Isn’t she ridiculous, McGee? All the time she’s backing that symphony orchestra she’s dreaming about Billy Mills…

FIBBER: Well, that’s always been a pretty romantic spot—down by the old Mills' dream…(laughing) Don’t you get it, Molly? I said “down by the old…”

MOLLY: T’aint funny, McGee…

It’s definitely a relic of another time and place, but that doesn’t keep me from enjoying it any less. Fibber McGee & Molly succeeded for so many years due to the professionalism of its actors, writers and everyone else connected with the show. It most deservedly has earned its reputation as one of the great comedy shows broadcast in the Golden Age of Radio.