“Atsa funny thing—when I’m-a say it, itsa come out different…”

I recall one sleepless Sunday afternoon some time back where I put on a few episodes of the radio sitcom My Friend Irma, hoping that they would lull me towards lullaby land. No such luck. I listened to about six shows—about three hours—before I was exhausted enough to conk out. In listening to these programs, I couldn’t help but notice that they all seem to suffer from a stifling, cookie-cutter sameness; I thought perhaps that it might be because I was listening to them all in one sitting, as opposed to how they probably should be listened to, once a week. But now I’m not so certain that it's not the handiwork of the show’s creator-producer Cy Howard—because I’ve detected it in his other hit sitcom, Life With Luigi, as well.

I previewed a couple of Luigi broadcasts last night, the first originally heard over CBS Radio March 27, 1949. It’s spring, and Luigi’s fancy has turned to thoughts of love, a subject he takes up with his friend and fellow night-school classmate, Schultz (Hans Conried):

LUIGI: Schultz, donna spring meana nothing to you?
SCHULTZ: Sure! Dot’s ven I defrost der izebox! Ah ha! I got it…Luigi, in schpring, you should go out vit a girl…
LUIGI: Oh, please-a, Schultz…
SCHULTZ: Oh, schtop…you’re going out vit my cousin Volfgang’s daughter Mathilda…sure, sure…zis Zaturday night, you’re taking her to der movies…
LUIGI: But-a, Schultz…I’m-a never take a girl to the movies…
SCHULTZ: Oh, Luigi—it’s der zame thing like going by yourzelf…only ven you go vit a girl, you don’t look at der picture…
LUIGI: But-a, Schultz—why should I go if I’m-a not gonna enjoy myself?
SCHULTZ: Schtop dat, Luigi, schtop…now here’s Mathilda’s telephone number…go ahead, call her up right avay und take her to der movies zis Zaturday…
LUIGI: No, Schultz…thanks, but I’m-a think I maybe not-a go…
SCHULTZ: Schtop dat, don’t put it off…remember—he who hezitates never gets to der movies before the prizes shange…

Back at his antique store, Luigi (J. Carrol Naish) is telling his good friend and fellow countryman Pasquale about his big plans:

LUIGI: Thissa Saturday, I’m-a gotta date with a girl!
PASQUALE: Ho ho! Oh, Luigi…I’m-a so glad to hear this…you finally gonna go out witha my daughter Rosa, eh?
LUIGI: No…I’m-a goin’ out with a girl…
PASQUALE: Whatta you think Rosa is? (quickly) Don’t answer that! Luigi, why you donna go out witha Rosa?
LUIGI: She’s-a too fat…
PASQUALE: Fat, fat-a, fat! Everytime we talk abouta Rosa, thatsa all you canna say…
LUIGI: Thatsa all I canna see…
PASQUALE: You wanna go out witha girl thatsa skinny, like a toothpick? You go outta with Rosie you gotta nice armaful…
LUIGI: I’m-a go out witha Rosa, I gotta nice roomaful…

Pasquale, who only purpose in life is to get the reluctant Luigi up the aisle and manacled to the more-than-amply proportioned Rosa (Jody Gilbert), volunteers to set up the date between Luigi and Mathilda. Since the restaurateur has the same scruples as one George “Kingfish” Stevens of Amos ‘n’ Andy fame, he tells Mathilda that Luigi wants to take her dancing instead. Luigi discovers this subterfuge only a few hours before the date, so Schultz suggests that he take a dance lesson at Arthur Murray. Armed with a few pointers, he accompanies Mathilda to the dance—but finds himself way in over his head when the band strikes up a jazzy jive number, and the girl takes Luigi out on the dance floor for some wild jitterbugging.

Now, in every episode of Life With Luigi—usually when Luigi was heartbroken or at the end of his rope—Pasquale would attempt to right things by calling for daughter Rosa: “Oh Rooosssa…Rooosssa…ROSA!” This would be Rosa’s cue to come a-running, greeting Luigi with a squeaky giggle: “Hello Luigi!” But the writers of this episode had a little fun with this weekly convention:

PASQUALE: Heh heh heh…where-a you think? I’m-a gotta just the girl…she also happens to be passin’-a by…
ROSA: Papa, you want me?
PASQUALE: Not-a yet! Wait ‘til I calla you… (calls) Rooosssa…
ROSA: Now?
PASQUALE: No! (again) Rooosssa…
ROSA: Now?
PASQUALE: No! Canna you play hard to get? (third time) ROSA!
ROSA: Yes, Papa?
PASQUALE: Rosa—say ‘allo to Luigi…
ROSA: Hello Luigi!
LUIGI (resigned to his fate): Hello, Rosa…

The second show, from November 29, 1949, shakes up this running gag also, with hilarious results. Luigi is out collecting money in the neighborhood for funds to build a recreation center. Pasquale, who’s the wealthiest man in that particular borough, is the lone holdout; he’s bitter because all his life he’s had to work, scrimp and save—so why should he kick in when no one’s ever done him a good turn?

So Luigi extracts a promise from his friend—if someone performs Pasquale a kind favor, Pasquale has to contribute to the fund. Luigi and his night-school class chums—Schultz, Olsen (Ken Peters), Horowitz (Joe Forte) and teacher Miss Spaulding (Mary Shipp)—all pool their money in order to allow Luigi to buy Pasquale a Mario Lanza record. It just so happens that Lanza is making a personal appearance in the store on the day Luigi makes his purchase, and in procuring an autograph, he tells the actor-singer the story about Pasquale. Lanza promises to pay a visit to Pasquale’s Spaghetti Palace, and although there’s a temporary mix-up, communication-wise, Lanza keeps his appointment and Pasquale is touched—and how, he's talked into ponying up two hundred dollars for the rec center fund. Pasquale’s scheming brain then starts a-turnin’ as he realizes that Lanza would make a better son-in-law than Luigi (“Rooosssa…”) and when Rosa makes her entrance, Lanza responds in the same dejected way as Luigi.

My favorite thing about Life With Luigi is the Pasquale character; Alan Reed (the future voice of Fred Flintstone) really seems to be having a ball playing this delightful comic villain who occasionally allows listeners a glimpse (can that be done on radio?) into his fairly-concealed heart of gold. This broadcast also features a cameo at the end by Gracie Allen, who approaches announcer Bob Stevenson (Gracie assumes he’s the one who wrote Treasure Island) and asks if her husband, “Sugar Throat” Burns, can sing on the program. This interesting ploy to promote their recent move to CBS can also be heard on the December 1, 1949 episode of Suspense (“Mission Completed,” with Jimmy Stewart) and the November 26, 1949 episode of The Adventures of Philip Marlowe (“The Birds on the Wing”).

George: "If it weren’t for Gracie, I could figure my income tax out much easier…" Bill: "If it weren’t for Gracie, you wouldn’t have any to figure…"

The more Burns & Allen radio shows I listen to, the more I remain convinced that the husband-and-wife comedy team did their best work during Radio’s Golden Age. Of their many broadcasts, the ones that feature guest stars are my personal favorites, but since this Radio's Greatest Sitcoms CD doesn’t showcase any big names I had to settle for mirth from George & Gracie alone. The first show, originally heard over NBC (as Maxwell House Coffee Time) on January 15, 1948, finds George struggling to complete his and Gracie’s tax return, with Gracie all-too-eager to help:

GEORGE: Now let’s see…figuring our income on the basis of the community property law…that would make, um…
GRACIE: What law, George?
GEORGE: The community property law…that’s the California law that says half of everything I’ve got is yours, and half of everything you’ve got is mine…
GRACIE: Oh? Then how come I only get one-fourth of the money we make?
GEORGE: Well…that’s the way it works out, dear…look, I’ll show you…here in my hand is a dollar in change (SFX: clinking coins)…
GRACIE: Yeah…
GEORGE: Now, half of everything I’ve got is yours…so here’s fifty cents…
GRACIE: Ah…thank you…
GEORGE: Now half of everything you’ve got is mine—how much have you got?
GRACIE: Fifty cents…
GEORGE: Half of it is mine, hand it over…there…see how it works?
GRACIE: I see who it works…now let’s try that again, and this time I’ll start with a dollar…
GEORGE: Okay…
GRACIE: Now…half of everything I’ve got is yours…so here’s fifty cents…
GEORGE: Thank you…
GRACIE: And half…uh…how does the second part go?
GEORGE: Half of everything you’ve got is mine…how much have you got?
GRACIE: Fifty cents…
GEORGE: Half of it is mine…hand it over…
GRACIE: Here…
GEORGE: Thanks…
GRACIE: Oh…you were right, George—it comes out the same way no matter how you do it…
GEORGE: Well, sure…
GRACIE: Ah, I’ll bet you get tired of me being so stupid, huh?
GEORGE; Well, sometimes it comes in real handy…

After George gets through showing Gracie that seven times thirteen does equal forty-two, Gracie demonstrates how comedy comes in threes:

GEORGE: Now, let me figure some of the income tax deductions…let’s see, business expense…
GRACIE: Now what does that mean?
GEORGE: Well, whenever we have a guest star on our program, we always take him to dinner…that’s a business expense…let’s see—now, we took Cary Grant to dinner…
GRACIE: But he paid the check, remember?
GEORGE: Oh yeah—that’s right, he did…well, we took Bing Crosby to dinner…
GRACIE: He paid the check, remember?
GEORGE: Oh, that’s right…well, last week we took Jack Benny to dinner, huh?
GRACIE: That’s one for us…

Frustrated by all the figuring, George sends Gracie downtown to a tax preparer with fifty dollars to pay the expert to complete their return. In the real world, things would proceed according to plan—but this is a sitcom, so Gracie decides to pocket the $50 and fill out the return herself. The revelation that she and George will be receiving a refund of thirty million should tip you off as to the accuracy of her calculations in what is a delightfully funny outing. Next up, a February 5, 1948 broadcast that features as its premise Gracie’s desire for a mink coat:

GEORGE: Now, Gracie—ever since we got home from the store you’ve been after me for a fur coat…(Gracie is sobbing) the answer is still no (more sobbing) ah, now you’re turning on the tears (even more sobbing) I suppose I’m a brute…I suppose I treat you like a dog…
GRACIE: No you don’t…
GEORGE: Of course not…
GRACIE: The dog has a fur coat…
GEORGE: Will you stop?
GRACIE: Oh, everyone has fur but me…cats have fur…rabbits have fur…and you have three hairs on your chest…
GEORGE: Four…
GRACIE: Think of my health…buy me a fur coat so I won’t have to go around shivering in the snow…
GEORGE: It doesn’t snow in Los Angeles…
GRACIE: Then buy me a fur coat and a ticket to New York…
GEORGE: I refuse to discuss it any further…
GRACIE: Well, I read in the paper about a woman who caught pneumonia just because she didn’t have a fur coat (she coughs) she caught pneumonia and died (she coughs again) better have your black suit pressed, George (more coughing) marry again, but not too soon…remember me a while (still more coughing) and George…take my insurance money and buy yourself a fur coat…I don’t want you to go the way I’m going (reaching Camille status now) Forget it, huh?
GEORGE: Forget it, forget it!!!

The program culminates with George agreeing to get Gracie a rabbit coat, providing he can shoot the rabbits to cut down on the cost—so a hunting trip is arranged, with announcer Bill Goodwin, maestro Meredith Willson, psychiatrist Dr. Miller (Hans Conried) and obnoxious Texan neighbor Mr. Judson (Gale Gordon) in tow and providing sure-fire hilarity. Elliott Lewis and Verna Felton also appear in this episode, and there’s a great moment—demonstrating just what was so fantastic about live radio—in which George muffs a line and attempts to cover to the accompaniment of Gracie and Hans’ laughter. Gotta love George & Gracie.

“Somewhere along the line a murderer makes a mistake—it’s my job to find that mistake.”

Author S.S. Van Dine introduced detective Philo Vance to the fraternity of literary sleuths with the 1926 novel The Benson Murder Case. Vance was described in this and subsequent novels as a wealthy connoisseur of the arts who dabbled in amateur detection, often assisting the district attorney in investigating crimes. The Vance novels (a total of nine in all) were later adapted successfully for the silver screen, with a number of actors offering their interpretation of the famed sleuth including William Powell (who made the most Vance features, including the 1933 film classic The Kennel Murder Case), Basil Rathbone, Warren William, and Edmund Lowe. Of particular interest to old-time radio fans is the 1939 release The Gracie Allen Murder Case, an amusing comedy-mystery (Gracie refers to the detective as “Fido”) based on a novel Van Dine released a year earlier. (The real Gracie co-stars in the movie version with Warren William as Vance, though it’s a shame that the film couldn’t find room for George—after all, he’s in the novel as well.)

It saddens me to report that the subsequent radio series based on Philo Vance just can’t measure up to the movies. There were three separate runs, the first lasting a brief summer stint on NBC from July 5-September 27, 1945, sponsored by Lifebuoy-Lever Brothers and starring Jose Ferrer as Philo. Frances Robinson played Ellen Deering, Vance’s secretary-love interest—but to avoid a possible messy sexual harassment suit it was strictly “Miss Deering” and “Mr. Vance” around the office. (I’ll refrain from revealing the nicknames they used for one another after working hours—this is a family blog, after all.)

Philo Vance resurfaced again July 23, 1946 for a brief ABC West Coast series, the details as to the length of its run and its cast/crew unfortunately remain unknown. Finally, the third time proved to be the charm as Frederic W. Ziv and the Ziv Corporation produced a 1948-50 syndicated series with Jackson Beck as Vance, Joan Alexander as Miss Deering, George Petrie as D.A. Frank Markham, and Humphrey Davis as Vance’s police force adversary, Sgt. Ernest Heath.

Jackson Beck was a veteran radio actor-announcer-narrator whose lengthy resume included shows like Grand Central Station, Life Can Be Beautiful, Easy Aces, The March of Time, and Hop Harrigan (as Tank Tinker). Philo Vance was not his only starring series; he also essayed the title role of The Cisco Kid on Mutual from 1942-45. But Beck is best remembered among OTR fans as the announcer-narrator of Mark Trail, Man Behind the Gun, Tom Corbett, Space Cadet…and The Adventures of Superman. “I’m still often asked to recreate the famous opening today,” he once commented regarding Superman. “It’s nice to be part of a legend.” His Vance co-star Joan Alexander also worked alongside him on Superman, and the two of them—along with star Bud Collyer—even provided the voices for a 1960s animated version of the show. Possessing one of the most distinctive voices around, Beck stretched beyond radio to animated cartoons (he voiced the spinach-eating sailor man’s nemesis Bluto in 300 Popeye TV cartoons), films (he’s the narrator of Woody Allen’s Take the Money and Run), and television commercials (among the products for which he’s provided voiceovers: Thompson’s Water Seal, Brawny Paper Towels, and Little Caesar’s Pizza).

In listening to some Philo Vance episodes last night at work, I confronted the unpleasant but nevertheless immutable truth that not all the programs broadcast during the Golden Age of Radio were…well, gold, I guess. Philo Vance is one of those shows. It’s not that the acting is bad, it’s just that it has this going-through-the-motions-to-pick-up-the-check feel to it; there is very little characterization, and the participants are often distant and emotionless. (For example, Vance often refers to the D.A. as “my friend,” but always calls him “Markham”—you’d think two buddies would use their respective first names.) The writing (by Kenny Lyons and Robert J. Shaw) is incredibly stiff and pedestrian, and desperately cries out for a smidge of humor. One gets the impression after sampling a couple of shows that the only person who had fun on this series was the organist.

In “The Flying Murder Case” (2/8/49), pilot Gregory Allen is murdered, and both his co-pilot Johnny Taylor and passenger Millard Crane are on the list of suspects since Allen was apparently cavorting with their women. The solution to this mystery is pretty obvious—even a meter maid would have picked out the guilty party in the time allowed. The second show, “The Butler Murder Case” (2/15/49), isn’t much of an improvement—Philo investigates the murder of a prominent dentist who was being blackmailed by an extortion specialist. This is definitely one series you can take a pass on—after spending an hour with Vance, Boston Blackie looks better and better all the time.

Weekend getaway in Hooterville

I got my copy of the Green Acres: The Complete First Season DVD in the mail a couple of days ago, and fortunately for me, I also have this weekend off. So I plan to take the WABAC machine to 1965 and enjoy some episodes from one of TV's all-time classic--and downright bizarrely surreal--situation comedies.

Green Acres is often called a spin-off of Petticoat Junction, and technically that is true, since the main characters originally appeared on that program. But Green Acres (you knew this was coming sooner or later) actually has roots in the Golden Age of Radio--a sitcom called Granby's Green Acres had a brief summer run over CBS Radio in 1950. The stars were Gale Gordon and Bea Benaderet, who (although they had different character names) were essentially playing Rudolph and Iris Atterbury from Lucille Ball's hit series My Favorite Husband. The plot remained the same--a couple from the big city decide to chuck it all and pursue a life of self-sufficiency on a recently purchased farm. There are about half-a-dozen shows in circulation, and although it only ran as a summer replacement the show's creator, Jay Sommers, later brought the idea to producer Paul Henning (creator of the successful corn-coms The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction) and the show became a hugh smash for CBS-TV from 1965-71.

Two more small items to tie this show into OTR: Sommers co-wrote many of Green Acres' episodes with Dick Chevillat, a veteran comedy scribe who, with partner Ray Singer, supplied many radio scripts to such shows as The Sealtest Village Store (with Joan Davis & Jack Haley) and the classic Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show. The other is something that I never thought about until I read it in a book I recently bought called TV Land to Go; author Tom Hill observes that Green Acres was sort of a doppelganger to The Burns & Allen Show. On Burns & Allen, you had the "illogical logic" of Gracie vs. the logic of George, and George usually won out--but on Green Acres, it was Lisa Douglas' nonsense that usually edged out the common sense of her husband Oliver. I should also point out that producer Paul Henning wrote for George & Gracie on radio/TV for about ten years. I'll stop before all this coincidence makes your head explode.

”Loo-see…you got some ‘splainin’ to do…”

Day 11 of “Twenty Days Well-Calculated to Keep You in Suspense.”

The Red-Headed Woman

Linda (Lucille Ball) is having one of those days—no sooner does her fiancé Frank (Elliott Reid) call her to say that he’s fallen for another woman than she decides to start a new life for herself by embezzling $21,000 from her employer (Paul Frees). As she makes tracks for the border, she hears a news bulletin on her car radio about an elusive bank robber—a man who matches the description of Jose (Desi Arnaz), a stranded motorist she runs into…

Written for Suspense by Nancy J. Cleveland and originally broadcast November 17, 1949, “The Red-Headed Woman” marked Lucille Ball’s fifth appearance on “radio’s outstanding theater of thrills.” On this occasion, she is joined by her real-life husband, Desi Arnaz—the two of them were just two years away from their stupendously successful television sitcom I Love Lucy, a modified version of the radio comedy series My Favorite Husband that Lucy was appearing in on CBS at the time (alongside Richard Denning).

To be honest, I’m not certain why “The Red-Headed Woman” was included in this CD box set. It’s not a bad episode, it’s just that apart from the novelty of Lucy and Desi appearing together (they would return to the Suspense microphones on April 21, 1951 with “Early to Death”) it’s really not that much to write home about. It starts out well enough, and then takes a slight detour from believability in order to tack on a “happy” ending.

Had I a say in the matter, I would have instead recommended two superior outings by husband-and-wife comedic teams: “Too Little to Live On” (12/26/47) with Ozzie & Harriet Nelson, or “Death on My Hands” (5/10/51) featuring Phil Harris & Alice Faye. I suspect the inclusion of this episode was probably a ruse to get Lucy fans to buy the set, but fortunately, there’s no real harm done as there are still plenty of great episodes to choose from.

Mission Completed

World War II veteran Tom Warner (James Stewart) has spent the past four years in a veterans’ hospital in a completely paralyzed state—able to communicate only by blinking. But all that is about to change; when his nurse takes him for a stroll in his wheelchair, he spies a man working in a florist’s shop that is a dead ringer for “Suki,” the Japanese official who tortured Warner while he was interned in a P.O.W. camp. Warner now finds the strength to nurse himself back to health in order to exact revenge.

John R. Forrest’s “Mission Completed” is another solid gold Suspense classic; a gripping, sweat-inducing drama that benefits from an outstanding performance from Stewart and equally great support from Lurene Tuttle, John Dehner, Elliott Lewis and Herbert Butterfield. The show, broadcast December 1, 1949, aired to commemorate the event of the bombing of Pearl Harbor eight years previous.

During the program’s curtain call, Suspense gets a surprise visit from Gracie Allen, who wants to know if her husband—George “Sugar Throat” Burns—can appear on the program to sing, an idea not enthusiastically received by either announcer Harlow Wilcox or guest Stewart. (Stewart jokingly tells Gracie that the lineup of guests for Suspense is pretty much booked for the next 4,000 weeks.) George and Gracie had moved their program back to CBS at the beginning of the 1949-50 season (this season would also be their swan song), and apparently were doing a publicity stunt identical to the “missing brother” gag that they instituted on their show during the 1930s. Gracie had previously appeared a few days earlier on The Adventures of Philip Marlowe (“The Birds on the Wing,” 11/26/49) to make a similar request.

“Another cup of Maxwell House coffee, George?”

I continued my countdown to New Year’s Eve this morning with a broadcast of Maxwell House Coffee Time—starring George Burns & Gracie Allen—as originally heard over NBC Radio December 30, 1948. A very funny Burns & Allen outing, it also could be considered “Old Home Week” as the show’s former bandleader (1945-48), Meredith Willson, is the guest star. I’m not certain why Willson (author of the hit musical The Music Man) was let go at the end of the 1947-48 season, but his was certainly a missed presence—in many ways, he functioned as a male version of Gracie, though he was not so much dizzy as sweetly naïve and bashful. (Willson didn’t collect any unemployment checks after leaving the show, however—he was still working for General Foods as the spokesman for Jell-O on The Aldrich Family.)

As the show opens, we find the Burnses stoked about their upcoming New Year’s celebration:

GEORGE: Gracie, we’re going to have the greatest New Year’s Eve party in town…

GRACIE: Mmm…you bet we are!

GEORGE: Money is no object…I’ve hired an orchestra!

GRACIE: You did?

GEORGE: Yep…and on New Year’s Eve, musicians really come high…

GRACIE: And they leave even higher…

GEORGE: What about the food…did you take care of that?

GRACIE: Mm hmm…I bought two turkeys…oh, and I hired a maid to pass around the hors d’oeurves…

GEORGE: This is really going to be some party…

GRACIE: Mm hmm…

GEORGE: I, uh…I bought champagne…

GRACIE: You did?

GEORGE: Uh huh…and at midnight, we’ll fill our glasses and drink bottoms up…

GRACIE: Isn’t that an awkward position?

GEORGE: Yes, it’ll spoil my hat…

GRACIE: You know, darling…with an orchestra tomorrow night, you’ll be able to sing your very best…

GEORGE: Ah, no…people don’t want to hear me sing…

GRACIE: Oh, they do too! And sometime before the party, be sure to learn that new popular song, “Drop Dead”…

GEORGE: A popular song called “Drop Dead”?

GRACIE: Sure…well, there must be…at every sociable, when you get up to sing you say “What would you like me to do?” and everybody yells…

GEORGE (interrupting) Oh yes, yes, yes…

George & Gracie receive another “old home week” visitor in the personage of Mr. Judson, a Texas oil/cattleman portrayed on their program by the one-and-only Gale Gordon. I must admit, however, I’ve never cared much for this character, although his material is a little better than usual. Someone once speculated on The Old-Time Radio Digest that the addition of Judson was inspired by the success of Kenny Delmar’s Senator Claghorn character on The Fred Allen Show. Suffice it to say, Judson was a pale imitation at best, and remains one of Gordon’s weakest characterizations (his catchphrase “Little lady, I like your sense of humor!” was equally lame). Gordon, of course, became well-known as the perfect comic foil for Lucille Ball, both on radio’s My Favorite Husband and TV’s The Lucy Show—but that’s kind of giving him short shrift; he was much more versatile than that, as his performances ran the gamut from space hero Flash Gordon to detective Gregory Hood.

Gracie plans to invite Judson to their New Year’s party but while searching for an extra invitation she stumbles across the other invitations that she has forgotten to mail. Knowing that George will be furious when he discovers this, she attempts to round up the invited guests—including announcer Bill Goodwin and Mrs. Chester Vanderlip (Bea Benaderet)—but they’ve already made plans. Gracie then pays Meredith a visit, as he is her last hope:

GRACIE: Meredith, you were supposed to get a beautiful invitation to our New Year’s Eve party but I forgot to mail it…

MEREDITH: That probably accounts for my failure to receive it…

GRACIE: Yeah…so I’m inviting you right now…you’ve just got to come, it means so much to George…

MEREDITH: Well, I’m afraid I have previous plans for tomorrow night, Gracie…I’m proposing to a lovely young creature…just the type I’ve always wanted to marry…a girl…

GRACIE: Meredith, must you propose to this girl? George will be so disappointed…

MEREDITH: Why? I’ve never given him any encouragement…

GRACIE: No, I mean he’ll be disappointed if you don’t come…can’t you propose at our party?

MEREDITH: Oh no, I fear that’s too public…besides, I’ve promised to kneel before the very sofa on which her father proposed to her mother…

GRACIE: Oh…did she accept him?

MEREDITH: I presume so…

GRACIE: Do her folks approve of you, Meredith?

MEREDITH: Oh, yes…her entire family has taken me to their…if you’ll pardon the expression…bosom…

GRACIE: How nice…

MEREDITH: It’s unfortunate that your party isn’t tonight, Gracie…as my betrothed is working and I’m quite free…

GRACIE: Yes, if tonight were only New Year’s Eve all the people I invited could come and then…(realization sets in) Meredith, I’ve got it!

MEREDITH: What?

GRACIE: I’ll make tonight New Year’s Eve…

MEREDITH: Have a care, Gracie…you are assuming powers greater than those of Petrillo…

GRACIE: I mean, I’ll make George think it’s New Year’s Eve…

MEREDITH: But that’s twenty-four hours away…

GRACIE: That’s the idea…he’s going to bed early tonight, so I’ll get all the guests over and wake George up and tell him he slept twenty-four hours…

MEREDITH: That’s a brilliant idea! Gracie, no one else has a brain like you…except possibly me…

GRACIE: Mm hmm…we do make a great team…we’re like those Congressmen who support each other in Washington…when we put our heads together, it’s a solid block…

With her scheme underway, the “New Year’s Eve party” begins:

GRACIE: Shh!!! Quiet, everybody! Are enough people here to get the party started?

BILL: Oh sure, Gracie...

GRACIE: Does everybody know everybody else? Meredith, you haven’t met the Vanderlips…

MRS. VANDERLIP: How do you do, Mr. Willson?

MR. VANDERLIP: How do you do?

MEREDITH: How do you do…it’s always a pleasure to widen my acquaintances…

MR. VANDERLIP: Thank you…

MEREDITH: By that, I mean I enjoy meeting new people…I’m sure that you and your wife are wide enough…

MRS. VANDERLIP: Well! I like that!

GRACIE: Oh ho, I knew you’d get along…now, uh…put on your paper hats everyone, and I’ll go in and wake George and tell him it’s New Year’s Eve…

MEREDITH: Well, how long has he been in bed?

GRACIE: About fifteen minutes…

MR. VANDERLIP: Well, maybe he’s still awake…

GRACIE: Oh, no…I don’t think so…he was lying on his tummy and that way he usually rocks himself to sleep…now, I’ll wake him up and the party can start…(SFX: door opens, closes, snoring) Happy New Year!

GEORGE (startled awake) Huh??? Wha…what was that?

GRACIE: It’s New Year’s Eve, dear…

GEORGE: New Year’s Eve? This…this is Thursday…

GRACIE: No, no dear…it’s Friday…you slept for twenty-four hours…

GEORGE: Have you gone out of your mind?

GRACIE: Get out of bed, the guests are here for the party…

GEORGE: Guests?

GRACIE: Well, sure…listen…(SFX: door opens) Happy New Year!

GUESTS: Happy New Year!

(SFX: door closes)

GRACIE: Get dressed, dear…

GEORGE: I must be dreaming…hand me my robe…

GRACIE: Here…

GEORGE: I don’t believe this…(SFX: door opens) Happy New Year…

GUESTS: Happy New Year!

(SFX: door closes)

GEORGE: Gee…I feel like I only slept a few minutes…

GRACIE: You slept twenty-four hours, you sleepyhead…naughty boy!

GEORGE: Twenty-four hours? Why didn’t you wake me?

GRACIE: Well, I didn’t have the heart, darling…you were so tired…

GEORGE: Funny thing is, I still am…

A great deal of hilarity ensues at the party, including an amusing Maxwell House commercial and a running gag in which Gracie attempts to keep George awake by asking “Oh, you’re not having fun, dear…blow your little horn…” followed by a funny-sounding horn toot. It’s one of those jokes that’s funny due to its constant repetition; similar to Red Skelton’s line “It’s nice to be back among the magnolias again!” in A Southern Yankee (1948) or Jack Benny’s “So they call me Concentration Camp Ehrhardt, eh?” in To Be or Not to Be (1942). The horn gag proved so popular that it popped up again in subsequent broadcasts, particularly the following week with guest Gregory Peck.

In addition to fine support from Gordon, Benaderet (she’s hysterical as a maid serving the party’s guests, using those one-of-kind-Brooklynese tones she showcased as Amber Lipscott on My Friend Irma) and Hans Conried, this broadcast also features a nice musical turn from Gracie as she sings “Little Grass Shack in Hawaii.” Gracie often demonstrated her musical talents in the early Burns & Allen programs but her delightful singing voice was pretty much silenced once the show shifted to its domestic sitcom format in 1942.

"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.

”And now, meet the people who live in the Burns house…George and Gracie..."

Continuing with the old-time radio sounds of Christmas, I had a two-fer last evening, starting with The George Burns & Gracie Allen Show from December 22, 1942:

This marked the first season of Burns and Allen’s new situation comedy-style format on CBS Radio—on their previous programs, the format had been an extension of their old vaudeville routines, consisting of Gracie “flirting” with the various male vocalists, bandleaders and guest stars that appeared. As this holiday-themed episode opens, George and Gracie are trimming the tree—but Gracie is concerned about the disappearance of her pet duck Herman (voiced by Clarence Nash, who also provided the famous quack of Walt Disney’s Donald Duck). She hears Herman outside, and when she lets him in, her beloved mallard is missing some of his tail feathers—which are being clutched firmly in the hand of guest star/neighbor Akim Tamiroff:

GRACIE: Well…what are you doing with Herman’s tail feathers?

TAMIROFF: Ah, it was a mistake…I was reaching for his neck…

GRACIE: That’s awful! My husband will take care of you…George, throw him out!

GEORGE (meekly) But…Gracie, it’s Christmas and…

TAMIROFF: This broken-down excuse for a man is your husband?

GRACIE: Don’t you say that! I happen to love this broken down excuse for a man!

GEORGE: Well, thanks!

TAMIROFF: Now look…I’m sneering at your husband!

GEORGE: Hey…you can’t do that…you can’t come into my house and sneer at me!

TAMIROFF (laughs) I’m in the house, no?

GEORGE: Well…yes…

TAMIROFF: And I’m sneering, no?

GEORGE: Well…yes…

TAMIROFF: And you’re going to stop me, yes?

GEORGE: Well…no…

GRACIE: Aw, that’s telling him, dear…Mr. Tamiroff, I demand to know why you were chasing Herman…

TAMIROFF: Because in my yard, I have a pond which used to be full of little goldfishes…now you have a duck which is full of little goldfishes!

Tamiroff wants Gracie to keep Herman out of his yard (“In the future, my yard is Stalingrad and that duck is Hitler.”) and to pacify her ducky pal, she tells him a story about Santa Claus. Soon, both of them doze off by the fire—which leads to a bizarre dream sequence in which Gracie and George journey to the North Pole by flying on Herman’s back.

The three of them arrive at Santa’s workshop—and jolly old St. Nicholas sounds positively morose and suicidal. (He also sounds like Elmer Fudd, which is due to the fact that he is voiced by veteran character actor Arthur Q. Bryan—whose roles on radio included barber Floyd Munson on The Great Gildersleeve and Doc Gamble on Fibber McGee & Molly.) Santa is devastated because an evil pirate—Tamiroff the Terrible—has absconded with all the toys he had planned to give the children this year. This leads into a funny singing commercial for Burns & Allen’s sponsor—Swan soap—sang by the show’s announcer, Bill Goodwin (who’s playing an elf named “Irving” Kringle), and Bryan’s Santa Claus accompanying him on boogie-woogie piano (“Why, Santa—you’ve got a cannon in your left hand…” “I’m in the gwoove tonight…ha ha ha ha ha ha…”).

Santa and the Burnses take off in his sleigh in search of the notorious pirate—but not before they are fired upon by the evil swashbuckler and brought crashing down onto his ship. Tamiroff seems to be having quite a bit of fun with his part, helping himself to a hefty slice of scenery du jour:

GEORGE: Gee…you’re…you’re mean, aren’t you?

TAMIROFF: Well, my friend…I do not like to boast…but I’m the meanest…the nastiest…the dirtiest…the most lowdown man who ever lived…

GRACIE: Aw, you’re just saying that…

TAMIROFF: No, no…it’s the truth…never—even in a DeMille picture—was there such a wicked pirate…

GRACIE: Oh, no…what about Captain Kidd?

TAMIROFF: Hah! A creampuff…

GEORGE: What about Blackbeard?

TAMIROFF: Who? Heh heh…shoe salesman! Now…do you know why I stole the toys from Santa Claus, huh? To sell them? Nah…I just took them because I’m mean…I hate people!

GEORGE: You do?

TAMIROFF: Yeah…I hate everybody…look! (SFX: stomping of foot) Wha…ouch!

GEORGE: You stepped on your own toe!

TAMIROFF: Yeah…I even hate myself!

Classic movie fans will no doubt remember Tamiroff in films like The Great McGinty (1940), For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943; for which he received an Oscar nomination), and Touch of Evil (1958). In fact, Paul Frees’ vocal characterization of Rocky and Bullwinkle villain Boris Badenov was loosely based on Tamiroff’s voice and mannerisms.

Just when it looks pretty bleak for Santa and the Burnses—the three of them, plus Herman the duck, have been thrown into the pirate ship’s hold, where the purloined toys are being stored—Gracie delivers a stirring speech on the urgent need to save the metal used in most of the toys for the war effort. Tamiroff the Terrible vows to walk the straight-and-narrow, at which point Gracie awakens from her crazy dream.

After Burns & Allen, I listened to an episode of The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes as originally broadcast over Mutual Radio December 21, 1947. “The Adventure of the Christmas Bride” takes Holmes and Watson to Pensdragon Castle at the bequest of Lord Neville to attend his daughter’s nuptials—and how a ghostly bride is seen rising from a locked chest a few days before the event begins. I had never heard actor John Stanley in the role of the world’s most famous sleuth before, and his vocal resemblance to former Holmes Basil Rathbone is uncanny. (Many listeners were convinced during the show’s run that it was Rathbone, and that “John Stanley” was simply an alias.) The Doctor Watson of this particular episode is played by Alfred Shirley who, though an admired and respected radio actor, doesn’t really cut it for me—I guess I’m just too accustomed to Nigel Bruce as Holmes’ sidekick. Shirley sounds an awful like character actor Eric Blore, who was always waiting hand-and-foot on Fred Astaire in those RKO Astaire-Rogers musicals of the 1930s.

"Roy-allllll Puuuuuuddddiiiing..."

I grabbed some of the CDs from my recent FGRA Round Robin purchase to take with me to work last night. There were a couple of discs featuring episodes of The Charlie McCarthy Show, which is always a crowd-pleaser. (Of course, it's usually just myself listening, so perhaps I should amend that to a me-pleaser.)

First up, a broadcast from September 14, 1947 with guest star "Prince" Michael Romanoff. Romanoff was a real Hollywood character; he claimed to be of Russian nobility, and appeared in bit parts in many films including Arch of Triumph (1948) and In a Lonely Place (1950). He's probably best known, however, as a restaurateur, opening up in 1939 the popular Romanoff's restaurant in Beverly Hills, where the stars came to meet and greet and eat (the eatery closed in 1962).

The program deals with Edgar Bergen's recent inheritance of a three-story office building from his late uncle, but it's this exchange between Edgar and Charlie that made me laugh:

EDGAR: Well, Charlie...

CHARLIE: Yeah...?

EDGAR: I think it's school that starts tomorrow...

CHARLIE: Uh...yeah, yeah...that oughta take a little of the pep outta me...

EDGAR: School tomorrow...

CHARLIE: Yes, that's it, yes...back to Hoosegow Number 28...

EDGAR: Now, let me see...if I remember correctly...you were in the eighth grade last year...

CHARLIE: Yeah...

EDGAR: What grade will you be in this year, Charlie?

CHARLIE: Oh, you don't have to be so darn cute...you know darn well I'm doing an encore...

In this sketch, character actor Eddie Mayehoff plays the lawyer who's handling the estate—Mayehoff made a number of appearances in some Martin & Lewis films, including That's My Boy (1951) and Artists and Models (1955) (he's hilarious as a comic-book publisher in that one).  The tenants of Bergen's building barge onto the program to meet their new landlord, and one of them is, of course, the "Prince" himself:

EDGAR: Are you Prince Michael Romanoff?

ROMANOFF: I have been...and very successfully, too...

EDGAR: I see...

ROMANOFF: But I abdicated...

EDGAR: Why did you abdicate?

ROMANOFF: I like to be thought of as a common man...of course, not too common...

CHARLIE: A prince...gee, I should have won my ermine snuggies...

EDGAR: Why did you leave Russia?

ROMANOFF: I couldn't stand the weather...

EDGAR: The weather?

ROMANOFF: Yes, it...got a little too hot for me...

EDGAR: I think I understand, yes...pardon me, but I can't help but admire the beautiful gems on your cuff links there...

ROMANOFF: Yes...they're from the Royal Crown...

EDGAR: Ah...

ROMANOFF: ...and this ring has the Royal Seal...

CHARLIE: What's that on your vest?

ROMANOFF: That's Royal Pudding.

The McCarthy show was sponsored by Standard Brands--manufacturers of the aforementioned pudding, and, of course, Chase and Sanborn coffee. Romanoff was a guest on many old-time radio shows, including The Jack Benny Program, Suspense, and Duffy's Tavern. (I can only speculate that maybe they were trying to get a good table.)

The second program I listened to is a program from the week after (September 21, 1947), in which the featured guests are Walt Disney and Donald Duck. There had been a preview of the 1947 Disney feature Fun & Fancy Free before the broadcast, and there's a great essay on both that show and the movie on Bill Griffiths' Started By a Mouse website. Clarence Nash doesn't receive credit, of course, but it is he who provides the Donald voice--he was also no stranger to radio, playing the part of Gracie Allen's pet duck Herman on Burns & Allen's 1941-45 CBS series for Swan Soap.

“Just a love nest, cozy and warm…”

Of all the husband-and-wife comedy teams on radio—Jim and Marian Jordan (Fibber McGee & Molly), Ozzie and Harriet Nelson, Goodman and Jane Ace, just to name a few—no coupling produced more love, laughter, and affection that George Burns & Gracie Allen. The comedic couple—consisting of a daffy housewife and her ever-patient husband—made listeners (and later TV viewers) laugh for nearly thirty years.

Both Gracie and George caught the show business bug early on in their respective childhoods—Gracie, born in 1902, appeared with her father Edward’s song-and-dance act at the tender age of three, and also danced on tour with her older sisters when she was fourteen. George (b. 1896), at the age of seven, began singing on street corners and in saloons in New York City as a member of the Peewee Quartet. As he became older, George was not the most successful vaudevillian to ever trod the boards, but he was definitely the most determined. He did a variety of acts (including trick roller skating) under a variety of names on stage: “After playing a theater I would have to change my name,” he later recalled. “The booker would never give me another job if he knew who I was.”

George and Gracie crossed paths in vaudeville in 1923; he was dissolving his partnership with Billy Lorraine, and she was proposing that the two of them team up for an act. At first, Burns was the comic and Allen the straight-woman—but when audiences howled at Gracie’s straight lines and maintained dead silence during George’s punch-lines, Burns reversed the two roles, making the team a unqualified success.

The two were married on January 7, 1926, after three years of traveling on the vaudeville circuit. Two years later, they hit the big time with an engagement at New York’s prestigious Palace Theatre. Burns & Allen became fixtures on the Broadway stage after that, and in 1931 embarked on a 26-week-tour in England; it was here they established their broadcast credentials with a 15–week-series over the BBC. George quickly realized that radio would be the perfect medium for their talents; but upon their return to America, found that no one was exactly kicking in doors for their services. An audition for Grape Nuts led the agency executive to remark that Gracie’s voice was “too squeaky” for radio.

But later that year, help came in the form of an invitation from their fellow vaudeville pal Eddie Cantor to appear on his popular Chase and Sanborn Hour. The only problem was—the invitation was extended to Gracie only; Cantor would play the part of Gracie’s straight-man. Miffed at the snub, George agreed to the arrangement—on the condition that he be allowed to write his wife’s material. Gracie turned out to be a sensation on Eddie’s November 15 broadcast, and she stole the show. Both she and George were then invited to appear on The Fleischmann Hour with star Rudy Vallee, and after that triumph were hired for The Robert Burns (no relation to George) Panatella Program in February of 1932. Burns and Allen would take over the CBS program when star Guy Lombardo jumped ship to NBC.

Burns and Allen enjoyed enormous success on radio throughout the 1930s, appearing on various programs sponsored by White Owl, Campbell Soups, Chesterfield and Grape Nuts (apparently they had backtracked on that whole “squeaky” thing). But by the early 40s George couldn’t help but observe that their ratings had begun to slide. Numerous attempts were made to boost the listenership, but nothing seemed to work until George woke up in the middle of the night and realized that the problem was with their format. Since 1932, George and Gracie’s programs consisted of variations on their vaudeville flirtation act, where Gracie usually made eyes at either the guest stars or bandleaders on their show. As Burns succinctly put it, “We were too old for our jokes.” So in 1942, Burns and the writers revamped the program into a domestic situation comedy format, and it is this arrangement that is best-remembered by many OTR fans—particularly their popular Thursday night program Maxwell House Coffee Time for NBC from 1945-49.

The October 3, 1946 broadcast of Coffee Time is a typically funny Burns and Allen outing, and they are joined by guest star Eddie Cantor on this show. The program kicks off as George and Gracie are returning home from an evening out at the movies; from the dialogue and date of the show I would assume that they’ve just finished seeing The Big Sleep (1946):

GEORGE: How did you like the picture, Gracie?

GRACIE: I loved it! Mmm…the way that Humphrey Bogart handles women…

GEORGE: Bogart’s loaded with sex appeal, all right…

GRACIE: Yeah…you know, George, whenever I see him in person he reminds me of you…

GEORGE: He does?

GRACIE: Uh-huh…he always says, “How’s George?”

GEORGE: Bogey’s my pal…

GRACIE: How did you like Lauren Bacall?

GEORGE: Dynamite…they’re married, aren’t they?

GRACIE: Yeah…but gee, they sure don’t act like it…

GEORGE: Yeah, I’d like to talk to Bogart someday…

GRACIE: What about?

GEORGE: Well, a man is naturally curious to know what it’s like to be married to a gorgeous, seductive siren…

GRACIE: Well…I don’t think our marriage is any of his business…

Gracie asks George if they might take a romantic stroll through the park instead of catching the bus home, but George appears a bit reluctant:

GRACIE: I want you to be romantic…like Humphrey Bogart…

GEORGE: Every time I take you to a picture you want me to act like the hero…I wish I’d seen the “Lassie” picture…

GRACIE: So do I…then you’d love to walk in the park…

George finally relents, and as they walk through the park, reminiscing about past romantic experiences, they spot the park bench where George and Gracie first kissed:

GEORGE: Hey, look…there’s a bum asleep on our bench…

EDDIE (snores, then talks in his sleep): Oh, this bench is hard…

GEORGE: The light here is pretty dim but…I think it’s Eddie Cantor…

GRACIE: Oh, don’t be ridiculous…do you think this bum is the King of Show Business? The greatest comedian alive today? The man who makes millions laugh?

GEORGE: No…I think this bum is Eddie Cantor…

GRACIE: Look, George…I’ll prove that you’re wrong…I’ll bend down real close to him and pretend that I’m a nurse…

GEORGE: A nurse?

GRACIE: Yeah, listen…”It’s another girl, Mr. Cantor.”

EDDIE (waking up, yelling) Oh no! Not that! No!

GRACIE: George, you were right…it’s Eddie…

During Cantor’s lengthy broadcast career, the fact that he was the father of five girls—but no boys—was recycled over and over again as sure-fire joke fodder on his program--and others as well. In fact, the girls are the reason why he’s sleeping on the bench—two of his daughters have moved back home (with their husbands); forcing him out on the streets and unable to secure lodgings due to the housing shortage. Gracie concocts a plan: if they can marry off one of Eddie’s single daughters to Meredith Willson (the orchestra leader for Maxwell House Coffee Time), Eddie will be restored to his rightful place in the Cantor home:

EDDIE: Now, just a minute…as much as I want to go back home, I can’t let my little girl marry just anyone…you don’t do these things…I have to know all about this Meredith Willson…where is he from? What does he do? What’s his background? What does he look like? How old is he?

GRACIE: Well, he’s a man about…

EDDIE (interrupting): That’s enough! He’ll do!

Gracie and Eddie immediately set the plan in motion—and Gracie suggests that a romantic backdrop be the proper setting for Meredith’s proposal:

GRACIE: Fortunately, right in this room we have the world’s most romantic singer…

EDDIE: That’s right! (sings) “Oh ho…put your arms around me, honey…”

GRACIE (interrupting): Oh, no…no, Eddie…I…I didn’t mean you…I meant my husband, “Sugar Throat…”

EDDIE: “Sugar Throat”?

GRACIE: Yes…

GEORGE (warbling): “They say that falling in love is…wonderful…it’s wonderful…so they say…”

GRACIE: Ah…that’ll make Meredith propose…

EDDIE: Yeah…a thing like that could replace the shotgun…

There’s just one flaw in Gracie’s scheme: Meredith is incredibly bashful, and is going to have a difficult time popping the question to Cantor’s daughter Janet (who is chosen simply because she has the most comfortable bed):

MEREDITH: I just get so embarrassed…during the war, when they had women clerks in the clothing stores I had a terrible time…

EDDIE: You did?

MEREDITH: Until Japan surrendered, I went without underwear…

So Cantor and the Burnses attempt to coach Willson in the art of proposing:

EDDIE: I’ll explain all about getting married right from the beginning…first, the man and the woman go down to the city hall…they take out a marriage license, and the man pays for it…

GRACIE: He does? George…?

GEORGE (sharply): I paid you back later…

EDDIE: Well, let’s go ahead…after they’ve got the license, the man and the woman go to a jewelry store and pick out a wedding ring, which the man also pays for…

GRACIE: He does? George!

GEORGE: You’ll get it, you’ll get it…

EDDIE: Now, Meredith…next comes the wedding ceremony…you stand up in front of a preacher…he pronounces the proper words…and then you kiss…

MEREDITH: Even if he’s a complete stranger?

EDDIE: Bride, you kiss the bride…

MEREDITH: Oh…

EDDIE: Now you’re man and wife…you go home…and the groom carries the bride across the threshold…

GRACIE: He does? George!!!

GEORGE: You were carried across!

GRACIE: Yes, but my mother did it!

And of course, no Burns and Allen broadcast would be complete without a walk-on from Mel Blanc’s perennially “cheerful” Happy Postman:

GRACIE: …You see, Meredith Willson is getting married…

POSTMAN: Ohhh…he’s so young to suffer…don’t let him do it…

GRACIE: Oh, he’s marrying a very nice girl…Eddie Cantor’s youngest daughter…

POSTMAN: Really?

GRACIE: Yes. Meredith is getting the fifth…

POSTMAN: Well…if he’s smart, he’ll drink every drop of it…

In the end, it’s Janet who ends up doing the proposing—and Gracie’s scheme to solve the housing shortage starts to unravel when an influx of wedding guests means that the sleeping arrangements will have to be modified. The episode concludes with Eddie back on his park bench—joined by George, Gracie, Meredith and the Postman.

After relocating to CBS in 1949 with a show for Amnident Toothpaste, George & Gracie left radio behind for a weekly TV series airing on the same network beginning October 12, 1950. This hugely popular comedy show would last eight seasons—and perhaps would have run longer had it not been for Gracie’s insistence that she was quitting the show to retire. Most Burns and Allen fans remember the couple from their TV show, but having sampled generous portions of both programs from both mediums, I have to say that the radio version was vastly superior for any number of reasons. One of which was that the frequent appearances of guest stars on a weekly basis disappeared during the later years of the television run; another was the ill-advised introduction of real-life son Ronnie Burns to the cast (I just couldn’t see the Burnses with a son, for some odd reason--it was like something out of The Twilight Zone). 

But I suppose my main objection is that I never thought of George and Gracie as visual comedians; they were funny people who said funny things, which is why they were perfect for radio. Listening to their old shows today, I am impressed with the well-constructed wittiness of the program’s scripts (Paul Henning, the creator of The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction, was one of the show’s writers during the 1940s) and the innovative use of guest stars (one March 31, 1949 broadcast that explores Jack Benny’s parsimonious origins is an absolute riot). If you’re only familiar with George and Gracie through the TV show, I think you’ll discover that their old-time radio shows are a rare treat indeed.