By the 1950’s, famed radio comedian Red Skelton had moved his show to CBS, and the format of his popular comedy program has changed. Before, the show had consisted of a series of sketches tied to an underlying theme; but the new Skelton show usually had a basic storyline, whereupon Red and his announcer Rod O’Connor would encounter the famous Skelton characters along the way. Such is the case with the December 19, 1951 Christmas program, which is set against a backdrop of a pageant entitled “The Little Christmas Tree.” As Red says to kick things off, “The characters in our show are fictional…any similarity to persons living would be better off dead.”
Junior—the “mean widdle kid”—is the titular star of the Christmas pageant, although he’s a tad reluctant:
MUMMY: Now hurry, Junior…you’re the star…
JUNIOR: Don’t pull me like that!
MUMMY: Now, wait a minute…you’re the star of the Christmas pageant…you don’t want to be late!
JUNIOR: I don’t want to be in it to begin with! That stuff is sissy stuff! Why, if playing with girls and stuff like that…if it ever gets back to the Skunk Patrol I’ll be demoted from a stinker to a sniff!
Junior’s mother (Lurene Tuttle) manages to drag him to the auditorium, where they meet the stage manager (Pat McGeehan) and announcer Rod O’Connor (or as Junior refers to him, “blubber boy”):
MANAGER: Good evening, Lurene and Junior…well, here’s your Christmas tree costume…
MUMMY: Do those lights work?
MANAGER; Ah, yes, they do…
JUNIOR: Oh good! This is one Christmas I can get lit up before Pop does!
ROD: Those wires don’t have any shorts in them, do they?
JUNIOR (trying to be helpful) I have shorts on!
ROD: We wouldn’t want Junior to get electrocuted…
MUMMY: Oh, good heavens, no…he’s wearing his good suit…
MANAGER: Well…shall we get dressed, Junior?
JUNIOR: Yeah, why does I has to be a Christmas tree? Why couldn’t I be a widdle angel?
ROD: Oh, you dreamer you…
After a song (“When the World Was Young”) by female vocalist Jean Pewter, the pageant gets under way. The setting is a forest filled with fir trees; the trees happy and content co-existing peacefully with nature…one day, the trees hear a voice in the whispering wind:
VOICE: Each living thing is here to serve a purpose…now you are growing in Mother Nature’s storehouse…but soon, Man will come and take you away…some will become houses…churches…furniture…but regardless of how you may be used, remember…it is my will that you serve well…
Into the forest ride two men—one of whom is the one-and-only Deadeye (“Whoa! Whoooaaa! Ah, come on, horse, whoa!”):
DEADEYE: You know, every year ‘round this time I get a feelin’ like I’d like to give somethin’ away…but I ain’t got nothin’ to give…I think I’ll go over to the bank and get some money and give you half of it…
COWBOY: The bank is closed…
DEADEYE: I wasn’t gonna make out a withdrawal slip…
COWBOY: Deadeye, why don’t you reform and take home a honest man’s pay?
DEADEYE: I will…you show me where he hides it and I’ll take it home…
The two men discuss chopping down a few trees and taking them to town to sell to folks for Christmas. Deadeye has his particular eye on a little fir tree in the distance:
COWBOY: Say…ain’t we got enough trees, Deadeye?
DEADEYE: Nope…there’s one more up there, that little special tree—that’s the one I want…
COWBOY: Look, we’ve been climbing for that tree for three hours…I’m mighty hungry…
DEADEYE: Yeah? What are you gripin’ about? My hands are frozen…I’ve been holdin’ my pants up with my teeth…and that ain’t easy…
COWBOY: Why?
DEADEYE: No teeth…hey, forget about food…start thinkin’ about women…
COWBOY: Well, I’d rather think about food…
DEADEYE: Than women?
COWBOY: Yeah…
DEADEYE: Boy, I hope I never get that hungry…
Deadeye and friend ride into town and sell the trees—many of them are bought by a Christmas tree salesman with the nom de plume of Clem Kadiddlehopper, who attempts to sell a tree to Rod O’Connor:
CLEM: Howdy, howdy there! Would you like to buy a Christmas tree?
ROD: Well, that depends…uh…what do you have in a real cheap tree?
CLEM: Termites.
ROD: Termites?
CLEM: Yeah, what did you expect…owls? What do you wanna pay?
ROD: Well, uh…what have you got for about two dollars?
CLEM: Two dollars?
ROD: Mm-hmm…
CLEM: There’s a nice, hairy broomstick over here…
ROD: No, no, no…I need a tree…let me look at something for two dollars…
CLEM: Well…that’s a little high for a look, but…if you can afford it, go ahead…
ROD: If you’ve got anything cheaper than two dollars, I’ll take it…what do you have?
CLEM: I’ll tell you, Sporty…here’s a packet of seeds…but I don’t think they’ll sprout by Christmas…
O’Connor decides on the little fir tree, and it is brought home, placed in the living room and decorated for the Christmas holiday. But the tree is experiencing a great deal of melancholy, as it is uncertain as to what purpose he is supposed to serve. A visit in the night from a weary Santa Claus (Pat McGeehan) helps to put things into perspective:
SANTA: My, what a beautiful Christmas tree…
TREE (Junior): Thank you!
SANTA (startled): What?
TREE: I said “thank you”…you said I was beautiful, and I said “thank you”…
SANTA: By golly…ol’ Santa Claus’ ears are playing tricks on him…I could have sworn that that tree spoke…
TREE: I did, Santa Claus!
SANTA: But why in such a sad way? Christmas tree are supposed to be happy!
TREE: Well, I can’t be happy—I was told by a kind voice that I was to serve a purpose…but I can’t figure out what it is…
Santa explains to the little tree that he is already serving his purpose…and that he will understand fully in the morning, when the children awake on Christmas morning and laugh and dance around the tree. But the little tree—who seems to be suffering from more than a few neuroses—is bummed because he has a sense of his own mortality: that in a few days, his needles will turn brown and drop off and he will die. That’s when Santa—and this is kind of typical of many of the Skelton shows from this time period—informs him that things could be worse; he could be a Christmas tree in the Soviet Union:
SANTA: You know…tonight, I paid a visit to a place…and knocked two of my reindeer cold…it was dark, you see…and we ran head onto an Iron Curtain…I should have known I wasn’t wanted when I didn’t see one Christmas tree…to help light my way…there wasn’t one child’s stocking to be filled…not one church holding services…and it was a great, vast place—all without spiritual guidance…
Of course, Santa’s left out the Soviet Union ’s large Muslim and Jewish populations—who might not have Christmas trees—in his little Cold War lecture, but that’s neither here nor there. The little tree, thankful that he’s not a Commie, finally understands his special purpose (please, no The Jerk jokes). I think there’s a lesson in there for all of us. It may be dated, but this edition of The Red Skelton Show still provides good, hearty holiday laughs and cheer.
No comments:
Post a Comment