Whenever a group of OTR fans congregate, it is inevitable that the first topic or question to be tossed out into the discussion is: “What are your favorite shows?”
Speaking for myself, I’ve always had a preference for old-time radio comedy programs. Oh sure, I enjoy listening to Golden Age Radio favorites like Gunsmoke, Dragnet, Escape, Suspense, The Whistler, etc. But the classic radio comedians—Jack Benny, Red Skelton, Edgar Bergen (and Charlie McCarthy), George Burns & Gracie Allen, to name but a few—have all provided me with more moments of delight and sheer pleasure than any other medium save the movies.
One radio comedian stands head and shoulders above all the rest, however. As his long-time second banana (and real-life devoted spouse) Portland Hoffa would say: “He’s Fred…Allen!”
There are, of course, many OTR fans who don’t care for Fred Allen. I had difficulty understanding this at first. They’ll sing the praises of Benny and Burns and Bergen
It was author Gerald Nachman’s observation that “Fred Allen was the David Letterman of radio” that helped me to put all this in perspective. No one can make me laugh harder than Letterman; but there are more than a few audiences who prefer the more mainstream, middle-of-the-road Jay Leno, Letterman’s long-time late night rival—that is, if the Nielsen ratings are any indication.
Most of this, however, is of little consequence. I revere Fred Allen, and continue to be in absolute awe of his wit and talent. Born John Florence Sullivan in Cambridge , Massachusetts Portland
But Allen, like many performers from that era, soon realized that vaudeville was not long for this world—and that a gig on this new-fangled medium of radio would provide a great deal more economic stability. So on October 23, 1932, he made his debut over CBS Radio with The Linit Bath Club Revue and for seventeen seasons in various formats (sitting out the 1944-45 season under the advice of his doctor to relieve his chronic hypertension) he delighted all kinds of audiences—rural and urban, intellectual and non—with his biting, satirical wit and dry, sophisticated humor.
Fred Allen fans often debate as to when the comedian did his best work. OTR historian Elizabeth McLeod prefers the Allen programs of the 1930s (particularly his legendary Town Hall Tonight), while I believe that Fred was at the peak of his comic powers in the late 1940s; particularly the years 1945 through 1949, acknowledged by many to have been his “classic period.”
It is from this period that I listened to the broadcast of June 27, 1948 last night, which was Fred’s last show of the 1947-48 season. Although I had read about it in a book on Jack Benny, I had never actually heard the broadcast (I’m sure there are a great many Allen shows I have not heard, so any unlistened-to show is the aural equivalent of a hot-fudge sundae). As the program gets underway, the usual introduction of Allen by announcer Kenny Delmar is eschewed for a presentation by Fred’s wife Portland
(audience applause)
FRED: Thank you, and good evening, ladies and gentlemen…and Portland
FRED: Oh, really…why?
FRED: How?
FRED: Who didn’t call her?
FRED: Oh, how…(ad-libs to Portland
FRED: Oh, a babysitter?
FRED: No kidding…
FRED: That is (lone audience member claps, ad-libs) there are the Lever Brothers again, thank you, boys…that’s some profession, a quiz-sitter…
FRED: Oh, I know that…according to the latest Hooper survey, the only one who listens to our program is Edgar Bergen…(ad-libs) and even he’s gone away, so tonight we’re just…
FRED: I know…radio is the Marshall Plan with music. The slogan of the quiz program is, if you can’t entertain people, give them something. (ad-libs) Don’t just waste their time, have them hanging around if nothing happens.
FRED (ad-libs after audience response to Portland
The Fred Allen novice probably needs to be brought up to speed on the preceding comments. Allen was, at this particular juncture, enjoying the greatest ratings of his radio career—his show was the No. 1 comedy program of the 1947-48 season. But on March 21, 1948 , trouble began looming over the horizon when ABC Radio introduced Stop the Music, the program that is best remembered today as the catalyst for Allen’s downfall.
Stop the Music was a quiz show that phoned people across the United States 8:00 pm timeslot on Sundays, with Fred following at 8:30 ) in the Hooper ratings.
The 1948-49 season netted no improvement. In the words of radio critic Harriet Van Horne, Stop the Music had “tumbled Fred Allen from the plush pew reserved for Hooper’s Top 10 to a camp stool in back of Lum & Abner.” Allen was incensed at the program’s popularity, whose audiences he considered “a herd of morons.” He added: “Many winners are so dumb that they can’t find their way out of the building.” His last season on radio was hallmarked by endless bitter diatribes and scathing, take-no-prisoners satire (he did a hilarious parody called “Cease the Melody” on one broadcast)—he also attempted to fight fire with fire by offering a cash prize of $5,000 to anyone who had been called by Stop the Music while listening to his program (sadly, there were no takers). Allen’s sponsor, Ford Motors, even offered to move his show to a more accommodating time slot but the comedian remained steadfastly stubborn. (Edgar Bergen did read the handwriting on the wall and ended his program in December 1948; resurfacing with a CBS show in October of the following year after audiences grew tired of the novelty that was Stop the Music.) With his hypertension back in full-swing, Allen decided to ring down the curtain and called it quits on June 26, 1949 .
FRED: As the chorus girl said when the bee lit on her shin: “I think I’ll shake a leg.”
Jokes like the one above usually served as a signal to the audience that Fred was about to take a stroll down “Allen’s Alley.” Inarguably the most popular segment of his program, Allen had first introduced it on his December 6, 1942 broadcast as an outlet for his “News-of-the-Week” feature that had been showcased prominently during his programs of the 30s and early 40s. Every week, Allen would visit a mythical neighborhood in New York America
During the period from 1942 to 1949, there were many residents in Allen’s Alley—some who would prove to have enormous staying power, others that disappeared after a season or in some cases a show or two. By this time in Fred’s career, four residents had become permanent fixtures in the make-believe locality. Generally as a rule, the first door Allen knocked on was the humble abode of Southern politician Senator Beauregard Claghorn (played by Allen Show announcer Kenny Delmar):
FRED: Ah, what a night in Allen’s Alley, Portland…the front of Senator Claghorn’s fence is gone, he must have given somebody the gate…oh well, let’s see if the Senator’s in…
(SFX: door knock, door opens)
CLAGHORN: Somebody, I say, somebody whapped my whatsis…oh, it’s you, son…
FRED: Yes, Senator…
CLAGHORN: Well, let’s go, son…I’m busier than an Arthur Murray hostess tryin’ to teach a pupil with St. Vitus’ Dance…
FRED: You’re busy?
CLAGHORN: Yeah, I’ve been over to Philadelphia
FRED: Oh?
CLAGHORN: I ain’t seen so much hot air since the night I opened the wrong door in that Turkish bath…
FRED: What about the Republican candidates, Senator?
CLAGHORN: Well, Dewey ain’t never gonna get lil’ ol’ Harry out of the White House…
FRED: Who says so?
CLAGHORN: Petrillo says so.
FRED: Petrillo?
CLAGHORN: Nobody can take no piano player off of no job unless Petrillo says so…
FRED: Well…I imagine you saw some amusing sidelights at the convention, Senator…
CLAGHORN: I enjoyed one incident…heh heh heh…
FRED: What was it, Senator?
CLAGHORN: Well, today my hat blew into a saloon…I stepped in to get it…a man was sittin’ at the bar asleep…
FRED: Yes…?
CLAGHORN: As I picked up my hat, the man woke up…he looked up at the television…Herbert Hoover was makin’ a speech…
FRED: Yes…?
CLAGHORN: The man blinked his eyes and said, "If Hoover is president—what am I doing with three dollars in my pocket?"
FRED: Well, this is our last visit together…what are you going to do this summer?
CLAGHORN: I’m goin’ to the beach, son…
FRED: I see…
CLAGHORN: I’m gonna put on my bathing suit…
FRED: Yes…?
CLAGHORN: I’m gonna sprawl out on that hot sand…
FRED: Yes…?
CLAGHORN: And then I’m gonna do what us senators do all the rest of the year in the Senate…
FRED: What?
CLAGHORN: Just keep lyin’…so long, son…so long, that is!
First introduced to Allen’s program on October 5, 1945 , the character was soon witness to the popularity usually afforded to overnight sensations. Novelty items like T-shirts and compasses (that only pointed South) were introduced, and Delmar even recorded a couple of records, “I Love You, That Is” and “That’s a Joke, Son.” (He even appeared in a 1947 B-picture called It’s a Joke, Son! for Eagle-Lion Studios.) Delmar’s vocal creation (which was based on a Southern cattle rancher Delmar had encountered years ago while hitchhiking) was also hijacked as the inspiration for a Warner Brothers cartoon rooster known to audiences today as Foghorn Leghorn. Mel Blanc, the voice of Foghorn, always maintained that the inspiration for the boastful rooster did not come from Kenny, but originated from a different source. I in no way wish to cast aspersions on Mel's veracity, but from the volume of Warner Brothers cartoons that I have been exposed to through my childhood and beyond, I firmly believe that the talented Blanc appropriated Delmar's vocal mannerisms for Leghorn—Blanc's WB work is larded with imitations of OTR stars for similar animated characters, including Lou Costello and Ed (Duffy's Tavern) Gardner. (The irony of this situation was that because Warner trademarked their Dixie fryer, Delmar always had to request permission to do the Senator Claghorn voice in any kind of public venue.)
Allen’s favorite character in the Alley was the rustic New Englander Titus Moody (“Moody by name, Moody by nature” as Titus once observed), played to taciturn perfection by character actor Parker Fennelly (who would later resurrect the part in the 1970s for a series of popular Pepperidge Farm commercials):
FRED: Well, when the Senator gets sprawled out, there’ll be something new under the sun…let’s wake up Mr. Moody…
(SFX: door knock, door opens)
MOODY: Howdy, bub…
FRED: Well, Mr. Moody…are you going away for a vacation?
MOODY: Oh, I can’t…I’m rentin’ my barn for summer theater…
FRED: Oh…
MOODY: Last summer, I cleaned up…made a hundred and eighty dollars…
FRED: A hundred and eighty dollars…what happened?
MOODY: Well, sir…one day I was out in the yard…
FRED: Yes…?
MOODY: I was butterin’ the trees so’s caterpillars couldn’t crawl up ‘em…
FRED: Yeah…?
MOODY: And a fella comes up…
FRED: Yeah…?
MOODY: He’s carryin’ a bamboo cane…and in his tie he’s got a diamond…
FRED: A diamond, eh?
MOODY: Yep…it’s as big as a Luden cough drop and it’s about the same yellow color…
FRED: Yeah…?
MOODY: I smelt doughnuts on this fella’s breath…so I knowed he was an actor…
FRED: Yes…?
MOODY: He says…he says, “Rube…I’m here to rent your barn for Orson Buskin and his tourin’ Shakespearean players…”
FRED: Uh-huh…
MOODY: It’s a deal, I says…
FRED: Oh, he was the advance man…
(pause)
MOODY: He didn’t say…
FRED: Oh, he didn’t say…
MOODY: The next day…Orson Buskin and his leadin’ lady…Anna Cesario…
FRED: Yeah…?
MOODY: …and the Shakespearean players arrive in town…they swung off a freight train…
FRED: The actors, eh?
MOODY: Yeah…they looked like a mob that had just broke a hunger strike…
FRED: I see…
MOODY: Well, sir…that night…the show opened…it’s Hamlet.
FRED: Hamlet…
MOODY: All the Shakespearean actors is wearing long, black underwear…
FRED: Tights?
MOODY: Loose, on most of them…
FRED: Ohhhh…
MOODY: The leading lady’s was baggy…in the back…
FRED: Oh…
MOODY: Orson Buskin is struttin’ ‘round the stage, holdin’ a skull and sayin’ “Alas, poor Boric…I knew him well…”
FRED: Well, how was the show?
MOODY: Rotten…the audiences throwed two hundred eggs at the actors…
FRED: Well, if the show was so bad the audience threw eggs…how did you make one hundred and eighty dollars?
MOODY: I was in the lobby, selling the eggs at ninety cents a dozen…so long, Bub…
Character actress Minerva Pious had been a regular on Allen’s programs since 1933 and when it came to dialects she was without equal among her peers. She used a thick Yiddish accent to voice Jewish housewife Pansy Nussbaum, whose hilarious malapropisms and stories about her never-seen husband Pierre were often the highlights of Fred’s visits to the Alley:
FRED: With two hundred eggs, Mr. Moody could lay on with MacDuff…oh well, let’s try this next door…
(SFX: door knock, door opens)
NUSSBAUM: Howdy, chappy!
FRED: Ah, Mrs. Nussbaum…oh, you’re wearing a corsage…what are those flowers?
NUSSBAUM: Lilies of the Alley…
FRED: I see…
NUSSBAUM: In the corner is a nasty urchin…
FRED: Oh, the nasty urchin looks pretty…
NUSSBAUM: My little niece is graduating Mrs. Buxbaum’s Finishing Academy
FRED: Oh, you’re dressed up…you went to the graduation?
NUSSBAUM: My niece is valadictorio…
FRED: Well…
NUSSBAUM: She is reciting a poem…
FRED: What was her class poem?
NUSSBAUM: She’s calling it “Ever Onwards.”
FRED: “Ever Onwards”…how does it go?
NUSSBAUM: “Fare thee well, Mrs. Buxbaum’s Finishing Academy
FRED: Say, that’s very good…but tell me. Mrs. Nussbaum…where are you going on your vacation this year?
NUSSBAUM: No place…
FRED: No?
NUSSBAUM: Last year, we are stopping by Cramer’s Castle in the Catskills…
FRED: And you’re not going back?
NUSSBAUM: Pierre
FRED: Ninety pounds? How come?
NUSSBAUM: By Cramer’s when it is time to eat in they are blowing a bugle…
FRED: A bugle, huh?
NUSSBAUM: The first day the bugle is blowing…we are eating breakfast…
FRED: Uh-huh…
NUSSBAUM: Barely we are sitting on the veranda…
FRED: Yes…
NUSSBAUM: Again is blowing the bugle…
FRED: Yeah…
NUSSBAUM: We are going back, also eating again breakfast…
FRED: Uh-huh…
NUSSBAUM: We are coming out…again is blowing the bugle…
FRED: You ate again?
NUSSBAUM: All day long is blowing the bugle!
FRED: And you and Pierre?
NUSSBAUM: Three breakfasts, two lunches, with four dinners we are eating…
FRED: And this kept up?
NUSSBAUM: Every day…so soon we are finished eating…toot is blowing the bugle…again we are having to eating…
FRED: Well, isn’t that unusual? Cramer’s Castle serving so many meals a day?
NUSSBAUM: Ultimately, they are discovering…
FRED: Discovering what?
NUSSBAUM: Who is blowing the bugle is not Cramer…
FRED: Well, who then…?
NUSSBAUM: In back of Cramer’s Castle in the Catskills…
FRED: Yes…?
NUSSBAUM: Is living a boy scout…thank you…
The last of the Allen’s Alley regulars was a character that, as a complete surprise to Fred, generated more controversy than the others. Fred created a feisty Irishman named Ajax Cassidy (played by Peter Donald, a not-too-shabby dialectician in his own right) to appeal to “the Irish who had a sense of humor,” in Allen’s words. He later observed that many of them didn’t; in fact, large members of the Irish community had threatened to boycott his show if Ajax weren’t permanently ousted from the Alley. The Cassidy character did rely heavily on the drinking-and-fighting stereotypes assigned to many Irishmen—but as someone who is half-Irish (on me mother’s side) I never let it bother me much:
FRED: And now for the last time, let’s call on Mr. Cassidy…
(SFX: door knock, door opens)
FRED: How do ye do…
FRED: Mr. Cassidy…
FRED: Mr. Cassidy, you have a black eye…
FRED: Tell me, who gave you the peeper…?
FRED: What…what happened?
FRED: Yeah…
FRED: Oh, this was some affair…
FRED: Yeah…?
FRED: Uh-huh…
FRED: Well, Mr. Cassidy…are you and your eye going away for your summer vacation?
FRED: Well…they have water…
FRED: Well, they have scenery…
FRED: Well, that’s true…
FRED: But how can you escape the intense heat here in New York
FRED: What…?
FRED: Yes?
FRED: Insulting him…insulting him how?
FRED: Yes…?
FRED: Yeah…?
FRED: Uh-huh…
FRED: Naturally…but how does Rinty escape the heat?
FRED: Yes…?
FRED: The Municipal Deep Freeze?
At the beginning of the 1948-49 season, Fred changed the format of “Allen’s Alley,” (no doubt in response to both his declining ratings and critical brickbats that the segment had become stale and old-hat), switching to a similar man-on-the-street feature called “Main Street
The second half of the June 27, 1948 broadcast is an achingly funny sketch with guest star Jack Benny. OTR fans, of course, know chapter and verse of the great Benny-Allen “feud,” which began in December 1936 from an ad-lib by Fred about Jack’s violin-playing prowess (hosting a 10-year-old prodigy on his program, Allen praised the boy’s talent and cracked, “Jack Benny ought to be ashamed of himself.”). Benny returned fire on his program the week after Allen’s, and the ad-libs and wisecracks soon developed into a full-blown fictional “feud” between the two comedians. Of course, in real-life, Benny and Allen were very good friends; Jack once commented that Fred was “the best wit, the best extemporaneous comedian I ever knew” and Fred likewise had an equally high opinion of Jack’s talent and timing. Benny usually guested on Fred’s show (and vice versa) one to two times a season, and the appearances were more often than not the season’s highlights. In this broadcast, Fred is attempting to help Jack board the "Queen Beulah"--sister ship of Queens Mary and Elizabeth (“really a stepsister,” Jack admits) for his trip to England
CAPTAIN: All right now, Mr. Benny…if you give me your ticket I’ll show you to your cabin…
JACK: My ticket?
FRED: Yes…maybe you put it in your stocking with your money…
JACK: No, I’m wearing Liquid Stocking…
FRED: Then it can’t be there…
CAPTAIN: Well, don’t bother looking, sir…I’ll just check the list…now you’re traveling first class, Mr. Benny…?
JACK: First class?
CAPTAIN: Yes…?
JACK: Well…not exactly…
CAPTAIN: Of, if you’re going second class, that’s three flights down…
JACK: Okay…Fred, take my luggage…
FRED: Right, Jack…I’ve got everything…it’s down these stairs…
(SFX: foghorn)
FRED: Say, Jack…this package under my left arm…it seems to be getting bigger…
JACK: It’s probably unfolding…it’s a deck chair…
FRED: You brought your own deck chair?
JACK: Well, they rent them here, you know…
FRED: Say, who is this woman coming up the stairs? She’s blowing up water wings there…
MATRON: Can I help you gentlemen? I’m the matron, second class…
FRED: Oh, will you show Mr. Benny to his cabin?
MATRON: May I see your ticket, Mr. Benny—please?
JACK: My ticket?
MATRON: Don’t bother, I’ll check your name…you’re sailing second class…?
JACK: Well…not exactly second class…
MATRON: Oh, third class…that’s three flights down…
JACK: Thank you…it’s down here, Fred…just follow me…
FRED: Jack, I don’t get it…a guy with your money can certainly afford to travel first or second class…
JACK: Fred…I may be a lot of things…but there’s one thing I’ll never be…
FRED: What’s that?
JACK: A snob…
FRED: A snob?
JACK: When I travel, I like to be with people…
FRED: Well, if you go any lower, you’ll be with fish…
(SFX: foghorn)
JACK: Well, I think we’re in third class now…gosh, I’m going to look funny in my beret…everybody down here is wearing babushkas…
STEWARD: Ahoy, gents! Welcome to third class…
FRED: Who are you?
STEWARD: The steward in charge…
FRED: Oh, will you show Mr. Benny to his cabin?
STEWARD: Cabin? You mean hammock, don’t you, bud?
FRED: Well, all right…to his hammock…
STEWARD: That’s better…what’s your number, buster?
JACK: Number?
STEWARD: Didn’t you get a number with your ticket?
JACK: My ticket…
STEWARD: You’re third class, ain’tcha?
JACK: Well…
FRED: Jack, you must be third class…
JACK: I’ll check…(in a low voice) Steward…
STEWARD: Yeah?
JACK: Is the coast clear?
STEWARD: Yeah…
JACK: Sam sent me…
STEWARD: Oh, Sam sent ya…that’s two flights down.
FRED: Two more flights?
STEWARD: Yeah…go through the decompression chamber and turn left…
JACK: Come on, Fred…
(SFX: hatch opening)
FRED: Jack, what is this? Who is Sam?
JACK: A sailor I met at Roseland…said if I ever went on the Queen Beulah to mention his name…
(SFX: foghorn, ship’s bells)
JACK: Here we are, Fred…put the bags down…
FRED: Gosh…it’s dark in here, Jack…
JACK: Sure is…
FRED: Hey, Jack…something is licking my face…
JACK: No kidding?
(SFX: cow mooing)
FRED: Jack! It’s a cow! Why, the place is crawling with cows!
JACK: Good! I’ll have fresh milk all the way over…
FRED: Jack Benny…the star of the Lucky Strike Program…
(SFX: more cow mooing)
FRED: You’d think you were on the Contented Hour.
JACK: Fred, not so loud…
FRED: How can you travel down in the bottom of this boat? No room, no bed…
JACK: Fred, quiet!
FRED: Why, you can’t stay in here with all these cows…they can’t do this to you, Jack Benny…I’ll get the captain…
JACK: Fred, will you shut up!
FRED: Shut up? You’re going to England
JACK: Yes…
FRED: You’ve got your ticket, haven’t you?
JACK: Well…
FRED: You haven’t got a ticket…I knew you were cheap, but going to Europe as a stowaway…
JACK: Look, Allen…give me my nightingale and go already…
FRED: Benny, you can’t get away with this…the captain will find you down here with all these cows, and then what are you going to say…???
JACK: Moooooooo…
Of the comedy broadcasts that I’ve reviewed for this blog so far, I would definitely list this June 27, 1948 Fred Allen Show as my favorite. I realize, of course, that there is a wee bit of prejudice in my thinking due to my admiration for Fred both then and today. Former Allen program scribe Herman Wouk, author of The Winds of War and The Caine Mutiny, summed up my feelings for this great comedian in a eulogy written for The New York Times shortly after his passing: “Because he lived and wrote and acted here, this land will always be a saner place to live. That fact is his true monument.”
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