"Presented each week and every week...'til it's over Over There!"

It would appear that I was perhaps a bit too hasty in posting that yesterday's Elgin Christmas Party broadcast of December 25, 1944 was the best Christmas program I’ve listened to so far this month. Now I have to ransack my vocabulary for superlatives to describe the December 25, 1945 Command Performance show I treated myself to earlier this evening.

Command Performance was once lauded as “the best wartime program in America” by Time magazine, but I think I would eliminate the “wartime” part; it is one of the best programs, period. Not too shabby for a show that many Americans weren't able to hear its first-time around—the reason being that the show was produced exclusively for “the men and women of the United States Armed Forces around the world” and broadcast over the Armed Forces Radio Service (AFRS). This star-studded variety program, featuring a glittering roster of top-name performers, debuted over AFRS on March 1, 1942, with a lineup that included Eddie Cantor, Bea Wain, Merle Oberon, and Joe Louis. The show was created by Louis G. Cowan (creator of such radio quiz show hits as The Quiz Kids and Stop the Music) at the behest of the War Department, who wanted to find a suitable format to present "American radio" to the troops overseas. Cowan decided to let the G.I. audience “choose” their own entertainment, in the form of requests—examples include a song by Frank Sinatra, a “fiddle duel” between Jack Benny and Jascha Heifetz, or even a long, lingering sigh from actress Carole Landis. Celebrities donated their time, gratis, to support the war effort and the program—and it was once estimated that the talent budget for a comparable civilian effort of Command Performance would cost $75,000 weekly.

Perhaps Command Performance’s best-known broadcast is a show that originally aired February 5, 1945; a “comic-strip operetta” entitled “Dick Tracy in B-Flat; or For Goodness Sake, Isn’t He Ever Going to Marry Tess Trueheart?” with Bing Crosby (as Dick Tracy), Dinah Shore (Tess Trueheart), Harry Von Zell (Old Judge Hooper), Jerry Colonna (Chief of Police), Bob Hope (Flat Top), Frank Morgan (Vitamin Flintheart), Jimmy Durante (Mole), Judy Garland (Snowflake), the Andrews Sisters (the Summer Sisters), Frank Sinatra (Shaky), and Cass Daley (Gravel Gertie). The show is every bit as impressive as its cast, with some first-rate parodies of then-popular songs and hilarious fluffs and ad-libs thrown in to boot.

The Christmas broadcast of December 25, 1945 is equally top-notch; in addition to appearances from Crosby, Shore, Colonna, Hope, Durante, Garland, Sinatra, and Daley the show features Mel Blanc (as Private Sad Sack), Ed Gardner (Archie from Duffy’s Tavern), Harry James, Kay Kyser, Francis Langford, Herbert Marshall, Johnny Mercer, the Pied Pipers, and Ginny Simms. (Something tells me that that $75,000, even adjusted for inflation, couldn’t even begin to put together an equally star-studded extravaganza today.) Among the highlights of this program are an insult contest between Bing and Frank (the two crooners had a mock “rivalry” at that particular point in time); a hillbilly skit set in Kansas with Hope, Crosby, Mercer, and Garland (when Judy points out to Johnny that there are no hills in Kansas he changes it to a “flatbilly” skit); and some wonderful old tunes, particularly Bing’s “On the Atcheson, Topeka and the Santa Fe” (written by Mercer) and a great “Two O’Clock Jump” by Harry James and his orchestra.

Some of my favorite bits:

BING CROSBY: But you say this is going to be a masquerade party, huh? What are you coming as, really?

BOB: I’m coming as The Thin Man…

BING: The Thin Man? Everybody’ll think you’ve got Asta under your vest-a…but still, I’m just in a dither…I don’t know how I should appear…

BOB: Well, why don’t you make up as one of your own horses…then you wouldn’t even have to show…

(snip)

BING: Are you going to Bob’s party?

DINAH SHORE: Yes, Bing, I am…as a matter of fact, Bob suggested we have a progressive party—you know, at my house we have the hors d’oeurves, turkey, cranberry sauce, dressing, vegetables, dessert, coffee, and brandy…and then we all go over to Bob’s house…

BING: What for…to burp?

(snip)

BOB: Harry, I suppose you’ll be at my party tonight…

HARRY JAMES: Well, Bob, I don’t know if I can make it…

BOB: Oh, Harry, you gotta be there…

HARRY: I don’t know…I’m awfully busy…

BOB: Harry, the party just can’t go on if you’re not there…

HARRY: Well, gee, Bob…I’d like to come…

BOB: But you must, Harry, you must…you’re my best friend, my closest companion…there’s no one I like better…please come…

HARRY: Well, I don’t know if I can…

BOB: Well, okay, if you can’t make it…send your wife…

For the Hollywood gossip-impaired, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that at the time, Mrs. Harry James also went by the name of Betty Grable.

JIMMY DURANTE: It was lucky I met you tonight, Herbert…you don’t mind if I call you by your maiden name…?

HERBERT MARSHALL: No…no, please do…

JIMMY: You know, Bob Hope is going to give a big party tonight…

HERBERT: Yes…I understand it’s going to be quite a soiree…

JIMMY: That’s all right…I’ll leave before the cops come…by the way, Mr. Marshall…you being British, and coming from a long line of Brits…makes you just the man I’m looking for…I may have a job for you…

HERBERT: A job?

JIMMY: Yes…I need a valet…

HERBERT: You mean a…?

JIMMY: Yes…I want you to be my gentlemen’s gentleman…

HERBERT: No, it won’t work…we’re short one gentleman…

(snip)

ARCHIE (Ed Gardner): Uh, Mr. Hope, I heard you’re throwin’ a Christmas party so I says to meself, I says “Archie, why don’t you help Hope out and get him some talent?” And not just plain first-rate talent, you know…

BOB HOPE: Better than that?

ARCHIE: Second-rate…

BOB: So you want to get me some entertainment for my party, eh, Archie?

ARCHIE: Yeah, for an allotment, of course…you know, you ain’t talkin’ to no bum…

BOB: We live and learn…

ARCHIE: Yeah…now, I could get you a certain person who’s in great demand at parties…

BOB: Oh, you can…well, who is he?

ARCHIE: I can get you Bing Crosby…

BOB: You mean my straight man in the movies?

ARCHIE: Yeah…the fella they all laugh at…the guy’s a very good singer, you know…quite a career this Crosby’s had…he studied for eight years before he found out he couldn’t sing and…by that time, he was too famous to quit…

(snip)

KAY KYSER: I don’t know how I’m gonna come to your party, Bob, if I can’t find a girl…

BOB: Oh, Kay, don’t worry, there’s a girl waiting for you in some nook or cranny…

CASS DALEY: Well, whaddya know? Men!!! Wahoo!!!

BOB: It’s Cass Daley!

CASS: Loooove men…!!!

KAY: Well, there’s one from the cranny…

BOB: Here’s where I kill two birds with one stone…say, Kay, you want a nice, pure girl, don’t you?

KAY: I sure do…

BOB: And Cass, you want a nice, simple fella, don’t you?

CASS: I do…

BOB: I now pronounce you pure and simple…

KAY: Oh, well…maybe we can still have fun…after all, beauty is only skin deep…

CASS: Yeah…who peeled you?

(snip)

FRANK SINATRA: So only thirteen-year-old girls like me, huh?

BOB: That’s what I hear…

FRANK: All this stuff about thirteen-year-olds and me is just plain propaganda…I know one beautiful movie star who goes for me and she isn’t thirteen, either…

BOB: Really? I didn’t know Lassie cared…

FRANK: Well, she does!

BOB: Yeah, come to think of it, Frank—why shouldn’t Lassie love you? It’s a great thrill for a dog, hearing a pile of bones sing…

FRANK (after a pause): You been talking to Crosby lately, boy?

BOB: Well, after all, Frankie—the guy works at the same studio with me, I gotta talk to him sometime…you see, he has the key to the washroom…

FRANK: I thought Crosby was behind all this…why does he insult me that way? Why, I wouldn’t hurt a fly…

BOB: Not even if you sat on one…

FRANK: Honest, Bob…I don’t know why Bing should treat me like this…why, I’ve never said anything but the nicest things about that…fat, old gentleman…

BOB: Frankie, look, this is Christmas…the time for goodwill and brotherly love…you shouldn’t call Bing a fat, old gentleman…

FRANK: Well…he’s fat, isn’t he?

BOB: Um…yes…

FRANK: He’s old, isn’t he?

BOB: Um…yes…

FRANK: He’s a gent…

BOB (cutting him off) See how wrong you are?

This is really a first-rate production, with outstanding music and some hilarious comedy (including much of the ad-libbing that was prevalent on the previous Elgin show), and concludes with some good old-fashioned Christmas caroling, courtesy of Judy Garland, Dinah Shore, Francis Langford, Ginny Simms and Der Bingle. Ken Carpenter is the announcer for the holiday proceedings. (Talk about a busy guy!)

Although the peak of Command Performance’s popularity was during wartime, the program continued on AFRS until March 14, 1950; it is estimated that there nearly a total of 400 shows and specials were produced. An attempt was made to make lightning strike twice with a civilian version of the program called Request Performance, which began over CBS Radio Sunday nights on October 7, 1945. Again, the format was similar—audiences would request personalities such as horror film star Boris Karloff performing in a comedy sketch; one request had Phil Harris and wife Alice Faye appearing together for the first time on radio, which may very well have laid the groundwork for their popular radio sitcom that began in the fall of 1946. But with only $15,000 budgeted for talent every week, the program fell short of matching the star wattage of its AFRS sister and it closed its doors April 21, 1946.

The most frequent guest star of Command Performance was Bing Crosby, who appeared on the program a total of 29 times (Bob Hope was second with 26). It’s only fitting, I guess, that Crosby also benefited in one small way from the popular program. Many of the most popular shows on the American airwaves were shipped over to AFRS during the war so that they could be heard by the troops, and sophisticated editing techniques were used to eliminate the commercials and other unnecessary references for the G.I. crowd. These early editing efforts no doubt encouraged Crosby to jump ship from NBC to ABC, where he started his own prerecorded series, Philco Radio Time.

"Well, did you evah...what a swell party this is..."

Last night at work, I listened to what I am convinced is one of the finest Christmas holiday shows I’ve experienced since I began this project at the beginning of the month. Originally broadcast over CBS Radio December 25, 1944, it was a two-hour “Christmas party,” an all-star extravaganza—sponsored by the Elgin Watch Company—featuring Barbara Jo Allen (as Vera Vague), Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, Jack Benny, George Burns & Gracie Allen, the Charioteers, Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, the Les Paul Trio, the Louis Silvers Orchestra & Chorus, Carmen Miranda, Ginny Simms, the Army-Air Force’s “Swing Wing,” and Joseph Szigeti. The always affable Don Ameche was master of ceremonies, and Ken Carpenter the commercial announcer.

Ginny Simms kicks off the festivities with a rendition of “Hallelujah,” and then tells m.c. Ameche that she was originally supposed to do the song “You’ll Never Know” with Jack Benny accompanying her on the violin but things went slightly awry. There is a flashback to a few hours earlier, with Rochester answering the phone with “Mr. Benny’s residence…star of stage, screen, radio and delivers The Examiner to the Beverly Hills area”:

JACK: Come on in the living room, I want to talk to you…

ROCHESTER: This is the living room…you just don’t recognize it…

JACK: Oh…oh…oh, yes…well, what do you know, we’ve got a rug in here…say, Rochester…were there any calls for me?

ROCHESTER: Just one…Miss Ginny Simms…

JACK: Miss Simms?

ROCHESTER: Uh, yeah…she said she’s coming over here to rehearse that number you’re supposed to do on the Elgin show…

JACK: Oh, well, why didn’t you tell me? I’d better get my violin and limber up…now, Rochester, you finish straightening up the house and get the rest of these things out of the living room…my shirt, my shoes, my socks, my garter belt…I mean, my garter and my belt…and my bathrobe…pick ‘em up and get ‘em out of this room…

ROCHESTER: Don’t you want me to get your violin?

JACK: Yes, but I want you to get all my things out of this room…

ROCHESTER: I won’t have to…you start playing, and they’ll be glad to leave by themselves…

JACK: Oh, stop exaggerating…

ROCHESTER: Exaggerating? Boss, the last time you played your violin your tuxedo came out of the closet, tiptoed down the hall, went out the front door and we haven’t seen it since…

JACK: Rochester, will you stop being ridiculous…how could my tuxedo tiptoe down the hall and go out the front door?

ROCHESTER: That ain’t the mystery…the thing that bothers me is—how did it leave that note on the hanger?

JACK: What note?

ROCHESTER: The one that said “I can go if I want to, I ain’t paid for…”

Next on the program, Don Ameche introduces the “Swing Wing,” a congregation of former big band musicians “caught in the draft”, so to speak. The group play two numbers, “Bugle Call Rag” and some selections from the opera Carmen, and Technical Sergeant Manny Klein is their spokesman:

DON: Now, before you boys wrap up another number…could you tell us where the men in the group come from?

KLEIN: Well, we took one from Harry James…one from Benny Goodman…and one from Jimmy Dorsey…

DON: I heard you also took one from Spike Jones…

KLEIN: Ah, we didn’t have to take him…he was glad to escape…

A song selection from the Charioteers (who were the resident choral group of Bing Crosby’s Kraft Music Hall) follows (“Poor Little Jesus Boy”), and then we pay a visit to the “people who live in the Burns house, George and Gracie”:

GEORGE: Hurry, Gracie…we have to leave for the Elgin broadcast pretty soon…

GRACIE: George…um…before we go…promise me something?

GEORGE: What?

GRACIE: Well…uh…you’re terribly talented, you know…

GEORGE: Yeah…?

GRACIE: …and this is Christmas…

GEORGE: Yeah…?

GRACIE: So…promise me you won’t do your best today…

GEORGE: Won’t do my best…? With Bob Hope, Don Ameche, Bing Crosby and Jack Benny there?

GRACIE: Well, that’s why, dear…I wouldn’t want you to make them look bad today…

GEORGE: Oh, Gracie…

GRACIE: Well, this is Christmas…you know, goodwill to men…and practically all four of those fellows are men…

GEORGE: But, Honey…be sensible…if I had more talent than Hope, Ameche, Crosby and Benny…I’d be the biggest star in the world…

GRACIE: …and you will be someday…in fact, people can’t understand why you aren’t right now…

GEORGE: Really?

GRACIE: Sure! Why, every time we walk down the street together I hear someone say “I wonder what’s holding him up?”

GEORGE: I see…

GRACIE: Oh, you’re loaded with talent, George…I’m just afraid you’ll go down there today and embarrass those poor men…

GEORGE: Oh, honey…you just say that because you’re my wife…what if you were married to Bob Hope? What if you were married to Don Ameche? What if you were married to…

GRACIE: Wait a minute…I’d like to stay married to Don Ameche a little longer…

Ginny Simms does another number, her hit tune “Wish You Were Waiting For Me,” and then a dramatic sketch featuring Ameche, Joel Davis, Ann Stone and Tyler McVey is presented; a touching Christmas-themed story about a pilot on a dangerous flying mission whose thoughts drift back to last Christmas and his telling his son the story of the Star of Bethlehem. The sketch was included to promote a series called Keep Up With the World—what was apparently a dramatic anthology based on stories in a Collier’s column by Freling Foster (there wasn’t any information on this program in the Dunning book, and Jay Hickerson lists it as Keeping Up With the World).

The nice thing about this Christmas presentation is the wide range of musical talent; there’s something for every taste present, from Carmen Miranda (who does “Tico Tico” and a zippy, South-of-the-Border rendition of “Chattanooga Choo-Choo”) to the Les Paul Trio (“Danger, Men at Work”). There’s also music for the highbrow crowd, as concert violinist Joseph Szigeti performs a few classical pieces. Szigeti had recently appeared alongside Jack Benny in the 1944 feature film Hollywood Canteen:

DON: I hope I’m not being forward when I ask if it’s true that most concert stars have some protégé…

SZIGETI: Yes, that’s true…

DON: …and you…do you know of some undiscovered, potential genius of the violin?

SZIGETI: I do…

DON: Oh…and is he talented?

SZIGETI: Amazing technique…

DON: Ah…and young?

SZIGETI: Very young…

DON: And what’s his name?

SZIGETI: Jack Benny…

DON: Ah, of course…you made your movie debut recently with Jack…that must have been fun, huh?

SZIGETI: Lots of laughs…

DON: At his jokes?

SZIGETI: At his fiddle playing…

Barbara Jo Allen, an actress-comedienne who portrayed the memorable man-chasing Vera Vague on The Bob Hope Show, also has some amusing moments with straight-man Don Ameche:

VERA: Thank you, thank you…and Merry Christmas. Mr. Ameche (giddily) oooh, Noel, Noel…oh, Christmas time, I don’t know…I’m so happy, I just love everybody…anyway, half of everybody…the male half…

DON: I suspected, Miss Vague, it was something more romantic than just the Christmas holiday that brought that sparkle to your eyes…

VERA: Oh, you’re so right, Mr. Ameche…only this morning my boyfriend Waldo told me that I’ll be the next cover girl of the country…

DON: Oh…really?

VERA: Yes…I suppose you’ve heard of Chili Williams?

DON: Oh, yes…of course…

VERA: Meet “Beans” Vague…

DON: Uh…Miss Vague…how did you meet your boyfriend Waldo?

VERA: Uh, Waldo? I didn’t exactly meet him…I overtook him…but he’s such a sweet boy, really…this morning, there he was waiting for me by the mantle when I came down…he says, “Look, Vera—your Christmas stockings are all filled with walnuts.” Made me so mad…

DON: But why…?

VERA: Oh, I was wearing them at the time…

The highlight of The Elgin Christmas Party are the appearances of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby—Hope warms up the proceedings with his I-don’t-leave-home-without-it monologue:

BOB: But everything in Hollywood is done in the spirit of Christmas…if you get hit by a car while crossing the street they send you home wrapped as a gift…I just mailed some Christmas packages back East…everybody else had to mail theirs December the 10th but I sent mine yesterday and they got there in plenty of time…thanks, Eleanor…and don’t think the manpower shortage didn’t hit the Santa Claus situation this year…I saw one Santa Claus at a department store hitting a little boy and I said, “That’s no way for Santa Claus to act.” And Santa said, “I can do anything I want…I’m this boy’s mother…”

Hope then introduces his friend Bing (“All you can hear on the radio this weekend is Bing singing ‘White Christmas’…he’s the only man who can entertain and give frost warnings at the same time.”), who warbles his big hit, “Don’t Fence Me In.” Then, the fun begins as the two of them engage in a fast-and-furious insult and ad-lib war (Bob: “We’re gonna look at the paper once in a while, aren’t we?”):

BOB: That was wonderful…maybe I’m just full of the ol’ holiday spirit, but you know…that didn’t sound bad at all…

BING: Thank you…

BOB: …for a man your age…

BING: You still considered yourself a boy when you were my age…

BOB: At least I never played “Ring-a-Round-the-Rosie” with Cleopatra…

BING: This is hardly the place…hardly the time or place to discuss what you played with Cleopatra…well, look…

BOB (ad-libs): He’s got Broadway Rose writing for him now…

(snip)

BING: You know, I’m doing a double act with Sinatra next year…

BOB: You are, really?

BING: Yes…we’re going out to play some of the camps…sing some songs, sing some duets…fine double act…

BOB: Well, I think it’s nice to have a fella from each generation…what are you, uh (interrupted by audience laughter) you’re going to do a double act with ol’ No Blood, huh? Well, tell me…what are you going (more laughter) it’ll be a nice act, No Blood and No Hair…

(snip)

BING: Say, Blub…no kidding…let’s be nice…Christmas only comes once a year…

BOB: I don’t think you should knock Sinatra…because I wanna tell ya, singers like Sinatra come once in a lifetime…

BING: That’s right…why did he have to come in my lifetime?

To close the program—well, what Christmas special wouldn’t be complete without Bing singing the classic “White Christmas”?

The Elgin Christmas Party is part of a ten-CD package entitled Christmas—On the Air! Volume 2 which is available from First Generation Radio Archives. To call this fine program a “special” is really damning it with faint praise—it just wouldn’t be possible to do this kind of program today without having to take out a second and third mortgage to put a down payment on the participants’ salaries. Of course, back then—every performer appeared on the show gratis, as the broadcast was prepared for broadcast over AFRS and shortwave for the benefit of those individuals then fighting overseas. Even some fifty years later, it continues to entertain and delight through the magic of old-time radio.

“How do you do, ladies and gentlemen—this is Bob “Christmas Tree” Hope, telling you to use Pepsodent and your teeth will be ever grins…”

Next up at 9:30pm, The Pepsodent Show Starring Bob Hope. Bob, of course, kicks things off with his opening monologue:

BOB: …yesterday I went to the post office to mail some packages—what a line…believe it or not, just standing in line I passed my own house twice…I never saw a line that long before…I had a package I wanted to mail to a friend of mine in Boston, and by the time I walked to the end of the line I handed it to him…

After that, Bob brings out his resident stooge, “Professor” Jerry Colonna:

BOB: Professor, this is the gay Yuletide season, you know…you look as if you were down in the dumps…

COLONNA: Egad…he knows where his present is coming from…

BOB: Well, Professor…tell us something about Christmas in Hollywood…

COLONNA: All right…you know, people in Hollywood take everything for granted…for instance, every night for weeks now Santa Claus has been riding up and down Hollywood Boulevard…Hope, you yourself have seen Santa riding up and down Hollywood Boulevard…but do you know why he keeps riding up and down the boulevard night after night?

BOB: No…why?

COLONNA: Can’t find parking space…

A sprightly version of “Winter Wonderland” by the show’s resident female vocalist, Francis Langford then follows, as she is accompanied by the vocal group Six Hits and a Miss. While reading the liner notes to this particular CD I came across an interesting trivial tidbit that I had to file in the “I-Did-Not-Know-That” department: at the time of this broadcast, the “Miss” in the vocal group was none other than Betty Hutton (who later sings the song “Toytown Jamboree,” being introduced by Hope as “Vitamin-B with legs”). Hutton, a hyperkinetic blonde singer/actress, would later co-star with Bob in the 1943 musical comedy Let’s Face It (they had previously appeared in the all-star cast of 1942’s Star Spangled Rhythm).

Bob’s announcer, Ben Gage, then introduces the show’s special guest, British actress Madeleine Carroll:

BEN: Ladies and gentlemen…we members of the cast of this show have been wondering for a long time what we should give Bob Hope for Christmas…of course, we could give him the same thing he gave us…but he’s already got an autographed picture of Bob Hope…so tonight, we’ve got a real surprise for Bob…something Bob has always really wanted…something I’m sure any man would be glad to find in his Christmas stocking…and here she is, one of Hollywood’s most glamorous stars, currently seen in Paramount’s Bahama Passage—Miss Madeleine Carroll!

MADELEINE: Thank you, Mr. Gage…goodness, but you’re big, aren’t you?

BEN: Yes, I am rather tall…and muscular…

MADELEINE: You know, I like big, strong men like you…I think they’re…

BOB: Uh, pardon me, Madeleine…Madeleine, honey…

MADELEINE: Quiet, shorty.

BEN: You know…I could go for you, Miss Carroll…

MADELEINE: Oh, Ben…call me Mad…

BOB: Call me mad, too…

MADELEINE: You know, that was a lovely speech you made, Ben, when you introduced me before…would you like to find me in your Christmas stocking?

BOB: Look at the size of that foot…he could get the Andrews Sisters in there…

(snip)

BOB: Come on now, Ben…scram!

BEN: Bob, you’re being unfair…after all, the gang and I got Madeleine down here as a Christmas present to you…

BOB: Oh, you did…have you arranged for Madeleine’s salary, too?

BEN: Sure…we’re all gonna chip in as soon as you pay us…

MADELEINE: I guess I’ll have to dream the rest…

BOB: You’ll get paid, Madeleine…and seeing that you’re English, your salary for tonight will be a thousand pounds…

MADELEINE: A thousand pounds? No, Bob…I couldn’t take it…

BOB: Oh gee, that’s a shame…and after I had all the Pepsodent weighed out, too…

Carroll was a frequent guest star on Hope’s program, and Bob liked her so much that he dubbed her “My Favorite Blonde”—which was later used as the title of a 1942 comedy the two of them made together that has more than a passing similarity to the classic 1935 Hitchcock film The 39 Steps in which she co-starred with Robert Donat. There is a brief mention on this broadcast of their cinematic collaboration:

MADELEINE: But seriously, Bob…I think you’re quite handsome and I love working with you in our new picture…

BOB: Oh…do you mean it, Maddie?

MADELEINE: Certainly…I’m very happy with you as my leading man…gosh, I made pictures with Gary Cooper, Brian Aherne, Robert Preston and Fred MacMurray…but sometimes a girl gets tired of appearing with actors…

BOB: Wait a minute, Madeleine, now…people have told me that I’m an actor of the first water…

MADELEINE: Bob…in Hollywood, that’s just a polite way of saying you’re a drip…

The last third of the show is a funny sketch that has Bob throwing a Christmas party for the show’s regulars. I’m not sure who was writing the “stingy” jokes for Bob at this time, but my guess would be Milt Josefsberg, who worked for Hope before joining Jack Benny’s writing staff in 1943:

BOB: Say, Maddie…don’t you think it was swell of me to invite the whole gang over to my house for a Christmas party this year?

MADELEINE: Yes, Bob…and I think thirty-five cents is very reasonable…

BOB: Madeleine…come over here and sit down, huh?

MADELEINE: Bob…I don’t like that smile on your face…you’ve got that “come hither” look in your nose…

BOB: Oh, Madeleine…why do you avoid me like this? Am I, perchance, unattractive?

MADELEINE: Of course not, Bob…why, I think you’re one of the handsomest men in Hollywood…

BOB: What makes you say that? My eyes? My lips? Or my profile?

MADELEINE: My script…

At the show’s end, Francis Langford sings a beautiful rendition of “Silent Night,” and is joined by the cast. For the next four-plus decades, Bob Hope would use this traditional Christmas number for the close of all his USO Christmas shows.

"Thanks for the memory..."

The announcement by Media Bay that the company had obtained permission from the Bob Hope Estate/Hope Enterprises to release the late comedian’s radio broadcasts on cassette and CD was greeted as wonderful news by many old-time radio fans (though in some quarters, the revulsion for Media Bay and its division, Radio Spirits, tempered that enthusiasm somewhat). Prior to this announcement, most of the Hope programs in circulation among OTR fans were limited to scattered network shows and a goodly portion of Armed Forces Radio Service (AFRS) re-broadcasts. According to an account I saw on television, Bob was a genuine packrat, and saved volumes of mementos and souvenirs from his career, chiefly among them transcription discs of his old radio broadcasts.

Radio Spirits has released several collections of these broadcasts, and I purchased them mostly out of curiosity and for their novelty value. It's sad to report, though, that of all the comedy greats, I think Hope is the one whose radio shows have dated the worst, largely in part to the timeliness and topicality of his humor. His legendary, rapid-fire monologues, commenting on topical issues in the news have lost their spark and relevance—a criticism that has also been leveled at comedian Fred Allen and the reason why his programs receive a cold response from many OTR fans. (I, of course, would argue that Allen’s superior writing skills have helped him over that hump—but that’s just one man’s opinion.) Consider this brief example from an October 26, 1948 broadcast (which will be the subject of this review), in which Hope comments on the radio show giveaway craze:

BOB: Yeah, they’ll give away anything nowadays…the other night, Fibber McGee had to buy back Molly from a guy in Pittsburgh…I can’t understand why the government is cracking down on giveaways, though…after all, President Truman’s been on the road three months now trying to give away Congress…and one couple in Milwaukee won $26,000 worth of prizes and had to keep them all in their tiny apartment…the husband woke up one morning and said to his wife “Where are you, Honey?” She said, “I’m in the Bendix washer on top of a Hudson drying the baby in a Hoover vacuum cleaner…”

Radio writers would often receive gifts from ad agencies if a joke mentioned a certain product, usually in the form of free booze—so I have a suspicion that last joke turned somebody’s garage into a liquor store. The delicious irony is that during the broadcast, announcer Hy Averback promotes a “big, new contest” by Hope’s sponsor, Lever Brothers, that gives away brand new 1949 Mercury cars to those listeners who register by mailing in a wrapper from a cake of Swan Soap.

Like so many of his radio contemporaries, Bob Hope practiced and honed his comedic craft by toiling away on the vaudeville circuit. He made a successful leap to the Broadway stage in a production called Ballyhoo of 1932; later securing successful standout roles in Jerome Kern’s Roberta (1933) and Cole Porter’s 1936 musical Red, Hot and Blue (in which he appeared with Ethel Merman and Jimmy Durante). At the same time, Hope was making inroads into radio, appearing with Major Edward Bowes (of later Original Amateur Hour fame) on a serious concert music program (Hope was the comedy relief) called The Capitol Family Hour during his 1932 New York engagement at the Capitol Theater. He soon guest-starred on other programs, like Rudy Vallee’s Fleischmann Hour, and finally landed a regular radio gig over NBC Blue on January 4, 1935 with The Intimate Revue.

September 27, 1938 was an important date for Bob; he started his successful radio run with the program for which he is best-remembered: The Pepsodent Show Starring Bob Hope. Radio Spirits has this debut broadcast available on CD, and listening it is quite remarkable; Hope is somewhat nervous, but he feeds off that uneasiness and adrenaline at the same time. His cocky, swaggering, Milton Berle-like smartass personality has yet to emerge in full-bloom, and yet there are minute traces of the wise-guy persona to come. The basic elements of Bob's show are already in place--his announcer Bill Goodwin, who stayed with Hope until Burns and Allen hired him away in 1941; longtime stooge Jerry "Professor" Colonna who, more often than not, made Hope HIS straight man; and Skinnay Ennis, Hope's bandleader for many years until being replaced by Stan Kenton, Desi Arnaz, and finally Les Brown. The broadcast also establishes the use of “Thanks For the Memory” as Bob’s signature theme song—his rendition of the tune (a duet with Shirley Ross) had catapulted him to stardom in the Paramount feature film The Big Broadcast of 1938 and played a large part in the decision by Pepsodent to hire the comedian.

Hope also establishes early on what would be become his pride-and-joy on the program: his opening monologue. He established a precedent among radio comedians by hiring a virtual platoon of writers—sometimes as many as twelve would write jokes for the show. (Hearing that Bob was planning on bringing six writers with him on the road, Groucho Marx once quipped, “For Hope that’s practically ad-libbing.”) Bob also established a “preview” show for the Sunday night before his regular Tuesday broadcast in which he would test the writers’ material before an audience and then make careful notes as to which jokes scored. His monologue spit out jokes like a comedy Gatling Gun, but the detrimental consequence to all this was that the monologue had a rather mechanical feel to it; a sort of “laugh now, figure it out later” effect which is difficult to ignore when listening today.

It wasn’t long before Hope’s show scurried to the top of the ratings; the early 1940s saw Bob at the peak of his powers, and The Bob Hope Show (which followed Fibber McGee & Molly at 9:30 pm) became part of a powerhouse lineup on Tuesday nights for NBC (later joined by Amos ‘n’ Andy and The Red Skelton Program). His wartime shows were extremely popular, due in part to a discovery made by the comedian after a May 6, 1941 remote broadcast from March Field. The week after this show, Bob faced a demanding audience who wanted funnier material; realizing that he had a captive audience among the ranks of the military (who would laugh at anything) the comedian embarked on his now-legendary tour of camps, naval bases and hospitals with his cast (Colonna, Ennis and singer Francis Langford) in tow. For his efforts, he was showered with more than 100 awards and commendations, cementing his reputation as America’s wartime good-will ambassador.

After the war—and particularly during the 1947-48 season—Hope began to receive flack from both critics and audiences that his show had become stale and old-hat, and his ratings began to dip as a result. The following season, Bob shook things up a bit by dropping both Colonna (who would later return) and Barbara Jo Allen—Vera Vague as she was better-known, a man-crazy old maid character who achieved great popularity on the Hope program beginning in 1943—and added a new bandleader in Les Brown (and his Band of Renown) and a young female vocalist by the name of Doris Day:

BOB: You know, I was thinking about those musicals you make over at Warner Brothers…it’s too bad they haven’t got a good looking fellow to sing with you.

DORIS: But Bob…I just finished a picture with Dennis Morgan…

BOB: Dennis Morgan…you mean Jack Carson’s mother?

The picture Doris finished was, by the way, It’s a Great Feeling (1949), and her pleasant, bubbly personality was a welcome addition to the Hope program. In this October 26, 1948 broadcast, she plays straight-woman to Bob (she once commented that the one thing she learned from Hope was not to step on his punch-lines):

DORIS: Come on, Bob, you know you love working over at Paramount…

BOB: Oh, I don’t know…pictures are all right, but they’re so make-believe…it’s a shame the way they fool the public…

DORIS: How?

BOB: Well, for instance, everybody thinks Gary Cooper is a tall man…that’s because they always give him something to stand on before they shoot a scene…

DORIS: Well, he certainly does look tall in pictures…what does he stand on?

BOB: Crosby…(after he gets a wild audience reaction, he ad-libs) and that’s quite a lump, you know…Humphrey Bogart, there’s another fake…

DORIS: Humphrey Bogart?

BOB: Yeah, you know what a rough mug he’s supposed to be? You see him in a picture and he says, “Stick ‘em up with your hands, you rat, or I’ll drill ya…I’m the toughest guy in town…”

DORIS: Well, isn’t he tough?

BOB: Doris…Lauren Bacall told me that when he comes home at night she has to rub him with alcohol before he can mash the potatoes…

Bob also added comic actress Irene Ryan to his cast; in an old maid character similar to that of the departed Vera Vague (though Ryan had essayed a similar role on radio's The Jack Carson Show). Devoted couch potatoes know, of course, that Irene later achieved television immortality as Granny Clampett on The Beverly Hillbillies:

DORIS: Miss Ryan, I was telling Bob how much you enjoyed your trip through Paramount…

IRENE: Oh yes, Mr. Hope…and I know it sounds kind of silly…but I sort of fell in love with one of those young, good-looking leading men over there…

BOB: Ray Milland?

IRENE: No, Barry Fitzgerald…he’s got such pretty blue eyes…every time he looked at me, I could feel the corners curl on my mustard plaster…

DORIS: Well, did you get acquainted with Barry Fitzgerald?

IRENE: Well, I tried to…I wanted him to know that I’ve seen him in pictures…so I walked up and said “Going My Way?” And he said, “Yes…eventually…but I have to take two more harp lessons…”

BOB: Well, the next time I see Barry I’ll put in a good word for you…

IRENE: Oh thank you, Mr. Hope, but…say, do you think that he’d like me any better if I dressed real girlish? You know, with a peasant blouse and a sweater?

BOB: Miss Ryan…aren’t you trying to flag down the Super Chief with a burnt match?

The guests for Hope’s October 26, 1948 broadcast are Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, and it’s interesting to hear the comic duo perform in what was no doubt one of their first appearances on radio. Dean manages to warble “Everybody Loves Somebody” despite the presence of a cold, and the two of them are more than up to the challenge of matching wits with comedy veteran Hope:

BOB: You know, I just caught your act, fellas, and I thought you were great…say Dean, you know when you sing you sound just like Crosby?

DEAN: Well…I’ve been sick…

JERRY: Hey, you think Dean can sing, huh…I can sing better than that with both adenoids tied behind my back…

BOB: Please, boy…who’d you ever sing with?

JERRY: Who’d I ever sing with? Are you for real?

BOB (to the audience): He’s asking me…? (After he gets the response, he ad-libs to Lewis) Go ahead, quick frozen, read, go ahead…tell me, who’d you ever sing with…?

JERRY: Well…Kate Smith, just to name a few…

The trio of Hope, Martin & Lewis then sing “I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover,” which prompts Hope to crack “This kid [Jerry] sounds like Jeanette McDonald with a half-Nelson on Eddy.” (Jerry gets in a great gag as well when he threatens Bob: “I’d punch you right in the nose if I wasn’t afraid your nose would punch me back.”) Less than two months later, Dean & Jerry would do an audition record for their own starring program (The Martin & Lewis Show) that premiered April 3, 1949. It lasted less than a year, and many felt the reason for this was that a lot of the visual comedy that Lewis specialized in was lost in the translation on radio. But with the team’s subsequent success in television and movies, they returned to NBC in October 1951 for two more seasons, ending July 14, 1953.

Bob Hope’s passing in July of this year rang down the curtain on an amazing career that breathlessly encompassed stage, screen, radio, and television. Of his radio work available today, it is sad that it doesn’t hold up as well as I would like—though some of his shows from the 1950s era are amusing; by that time he had switched formats again to more of a Jack Benny-style situation comedy. While I would strenuously argue that Bob Hope’s legacy remains his work in movies (like The Ghost Breakers [1940] and Son of Paleface [1952]), I like listening to Hope’s broadcasts; their value as curios give me a glimpse into the past of what it was like to gather around the radio and listen as a master comedian convulsed audiences week-after-week during the Golden Age of Radio.