“…a half-hour visit with your neighbors, the Andersons…”

Years after Father Knows Best left prime-time television for the assisted living facility known as reruns, actor Billy Gray (who played the Andersons’ middle child, Bud) was quite critical of the classic family sitcom; he felt it did a disservice to viewers by presenting a distorted and patently false picture of family life. I’m not exactly certain why Gray believed anyone ever took that show seriously, but I can certainly understand his dissatisfaction with the series—it’s a treacly, sticky-sweet example of the white-bread WASP sitcom prevalent on TV screens during the 1950s.

So I’ve always been curious as to whether Gray ever listened to an episode of the radio show, a decidedly different interpretation broadcast over NBC from 1949-54. Listening to it today, you might wonder why there wasn’t a question mark after the title—the show’s patriarch, Jim Anderson (played by Robert Young, the only actor from the original cast to make the transition to the tube), is a far cry from the patient, understanding, omniscient dad of the television show. (Let’s be honest—if Young’s Marcus Welby behaved like the radio Jim Anderson, you wouldn’t let the guy get within 20 feet of you with a tongue depressor.) Personally, I like the radio series; the kids are much more bratty than their TV counterparts—particularly Betty, who reminds me of some of the snooty, self-absorbed girls with which I was forced to attend high school. (I have to say, though—the television Bud, as played by Gray, is a vast improvement over his radio doppelganger, who seemed a little on the mentally-challenged side.)

I checked out a pair of episodes earlier today, beginning with a September 11, 1952 show, “Minding Pierre.” Pierre is a toy French poodle brought home by Betty (Rhoda Williams), much to her mother’s dismay and father’s amusement:

MARGARET: Betty…you know who always winds up taking care of the pets you children bring home…
BETTY: Mother, please…may I tell you why this dog is here?
JIM: Yes, I’d like an explanation, too…and an introduction…this is the first opportunity I’ve had to meet a three-hundred dollar dog…
BETTY: Well, his name is…
JIM: I don’t suppose I’m dressed for the occasion—maybe I should go upstairs and change…
BETTY: Oh, Father—don’t be so utterly cornball…
JIM: Well, I don’t want to commit any breaches of etiquette in front of our guest…what did you say his name was?
BETTY: Pierre…
JIM: Oh…bon soir, Pierre…
(SFX: dog whining and howling)
MARGARET: He doesn’t think much of your accent…

(snip)

JIM: How can a typing teacher afford a three-hundred dollar dog? I know I couldn’t…
BETTY: He was given to Mr. Fawcett by a dear friend…and Mr. Fawcett prizes Pierre very highly…
KATHY: How long do we get to have him?
BETTY: Just ‘til tomorrow morning…
KATHY: Aw, heck…
BETTY: Mr. Fawcett gets back tomorrow…
JIM: Sounds like a short convention…
BETTY: Oh, well, he’s been gone all week…you see, some of us girls in his class have been taking care of Pierre…
JIM: I see…Pierre’s been making quite a week of it…
BETTY: Well, we figured it would sort of put us in solid with Mr. Fawcett…
JIM: Oh…so this is a slightly political move, huh?
BETTY: Yes, and listen to this, Father…there are four of us, and Mr. Fawcett was going to be gone seven days…so, in dividing up the days, one of us could only have Pierre one day…and I’ll bet you think I was dumb to say that I’d be the one…
JIM: No, I’d…say you showed great foresight there…
BETTY: Well, I did! I’m the one who gets to return Pierre to Mr. Fawcett…and he’ll thank me, and sort of remember me as the one who took care his dog…which he prizes more than life itself…
JIM: Now, if you’d just put that much thought into your schoolwork, you wouldn’t have to resort to such maneuvers…

Jim’s none too keen with Betty’s scheme of apple-polishing, and with the same grit and determination to teach her a lesson that one might find in, say, the ever moralizing Mike Brady, he puts the snatch on the poodle from the backyard and hides the dog in the garage, relishing the fun that will result when she squirms at the news that the dog is missing. Brilliant Bud then tells his father the dog is no longer in the garage, giving Jim a massive stroke and making Margaret (Jean Vander Pyl) a widow. No, I’m kidding—but he does get sort of panicky, not knowing that Betty overheard him hatching his plot and she’s hidden the dog in her room. Several more incidents of one-upsmanship occur before this episode calls it a wrap—and I have to admit, it’s pretty funny in a dysfunctional sort of way.

I can’t offer such effusive praise for the second offering, broadcast September 25, 1952: Margaret has been doing some research for a debate she’s participating in, “Careers for Women.” (She’s supposed to argue the con side, in which married women shouldn’t work outside the home.) Jim becomes convinced that she’s got her sights set on a career, and he devolves into a club-swinging caveman right before our very ears, stating that “no wife of mine will ever work.” (Apparently the “white frame house on Maple Street” is taken care of by magical housekeeping sprites.) So Margaret decides to teach him a lesson (I’ll say this for that family, they certainly have a jones for education) in an effort to chip him out of the ice and at least bring him up-to-date to the 19th century. As a rule, I try not to judge OTR shows through a modern-day sensibility, but this episode is just too dated to get under that particular radar. These two shows are part of Radio Spirits' Radio's Greatest Sitcoms collection, and I think someone was asleep at the quality-control switch during the production--both of these shows are way off-speed.