Seems like there is a limited number of plots that a successful show must do during its run if it's to fill all the cultural niches its audience expects. Of course, there are the obligatory observances - Halloween, Christmas and New Year - and some that are not tied to a day, but to the heart - weddings, babies, birthdays. But there are others that sneak in unexpectedly and are even more interesting to me. Among them: The UFO show.
Seems like every series needs to do a UFO show; I love this type of shows nearly as much as the Christmas show. I suppose it's the era that soldered my synapses,[1] though it predates me. (I didn't see Lucy and Ethel don space suits and climb to the top of Empire State Building until I was in college and watching reruns.) I don't know the earliest pop culture reference, but it was alive and well in radio with many science fiction series of course, but also the half hour comedy, including the
Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show.[2],[3]
I have 2 copies of this episode under different titles; the one I've streamed here is the best quality. I have them as 500326__LAST_DAY_IN_PALM_SPRINGS.mp3 (poorer quality) and 500402__THE_FLYING_SAUCER.mp3 (better quality).
Both March 26 and April, 2 1950 were on a Sunday, the day the show aired. I tried to catch any differences between them, and since they were done in front of a live audience, this shouldn't be difficult, but they appear to be the same show. The flying saucer spin would have been appropriate on April 2, the day after April Fools, but March 26 would seem to be too early. One thing you'll notice as you go back into the OTR vaults is that the popular culture of our parents and grandparents spent much less time on holiday themes before the holiday than we do today. They often saved the special songs and stories for the week of the event and did the broadcast before the event (or, more rarely, a day or a few days after the event, and then only in the case of large observances, and then because the fun factor compensated for the anachronism[4]).
I could be wrong (because I simply don't know) but my guess is that March 26 is too early, especially since the show doesn't reference April Fools; the plot may have been conceived however with that in mind.
Click here to listen to and Phil's encounter with a UFO
(BTW, this UFO episode occurs within another genre, The Family Vacation; the show was actually broadcast from Palm Springs, as you can tell from Phil Harris's closing comments - "we're a little late," a la Jack Benny. I don't know but presume this was unique enough to call out, just as live radio shows still do today.)
[1]
To put a twist on an old question, "If you were stranded on a deserted Island and could have only one Old Time Radio show, which one would it be? Well, since it's my question, I'll revise it to include all my favorites, and while I'm at it, I'll mention that someday, should any kind soul be at my funeral, do me a favor, play some Old Time Radio. Let's all share a laugh with some wonderful people that went before us, the ones my mom and dad listened to, and their parents with them. This is what I'd choose...
Life of Riley
Phil Harris and Alice Faye
Martin and Lewis
Jack Benny
Put it on shuffle, okay? Break it up a bit. And put a copy of
Music for Chameleons in my coffin, and my Sangean ATS-909, I'd like something to read and listen to while I'm wiping my feet; I expect that to take a while.
[2]
My father worked like a dog his whole life. He's retired now, enjoys his couch and baseball games more than ever, but once upon a time he would drag his tired frame home from the grocery store after a day of bearing the impossible expectations of customers and bosses, kiss his wife and hug his children, sit down in his La-Z-Boy and read some of the paper while dinner was cooking. Twice I can remember him bringing something to me on his way home from work, on occasions I was home sick, and they were very special to me:
1.
A board game of Barnabas Collins House of Dark Shadows➚, which we couldn't watch because it was on while we were in school, but there were a couple moves based on it and kids my age were allowed to stay up longer than me and they watched it and came to school and talked about it. I thought I was missing the most important TV event in history.
2.
Erik von Daniken's Chariots of the Gods➚. Every child my age, perhaps that was 5th or 6th grade, was reading it or talking about it. We devoured this sort of thing - aliens, the Bermuda Triangle, ghosts and demons and such, and scanned the skies each night certain that if we were patient enough we would see a UFO, because there were so many, it was only a matter of time.
And to this day, I want to believe it all, and what's the harm. I still have the book.
[3]
I share Phil Harris's aversion to bright light. I know it's just a joke for the show, but if it were up to me, I'd have rain and fog most days. I say "most" because I like a sunny Saturday morning or crisp Easter sunrise like most people, but after about 10am, I'm ready for a cool soft cozy gray.
[4]
Ever watch
A Christmas Carol after Christmas? I mean after all the presents are opened and guests have come and gone and dinner is a salty memory at the corner of your mouth. There's something palpably empty in it, like a detached 4th of July bunting after a picnic or extinguished birthday candles on a half-eaten cake.
My favorite version bar none is with Albert Finney in
Scrooge➚. All-time-favorites of course are most often hooked very deep into our childhood memories; seldom (though it happens) does a movie or book or piece of music come along and we say "Ah, yes, that's my
new all-time-favorite."
In fact, what is my favorite Lucy? Of course, the Lucy I grew up with, the one that worked for Mr Mooney (another OTR star Gale Gordon). That kaleidescope of faces and opening musics is among the deepest and earliest of my TV memories.
You all know what actors look like they're acting; it's especially evident in silent pictures (they were compensating for lack of sound), and often in radio (where they compensate for lack of pictures); when you can see or hear the acting, you're not seeing or hearing the story.
Unremarkable so far; I can get 10 minutes in and my mind is wandering so badly I forget what just happened a minute ago. Still worth the listen, there aren't very many. "The Insect" is good, but suffers from a prolonged effort to convey "these people are really scared; don't believe me? Wait, wait... listen to them be scared some more..."
I've noticed this in myself. I connect better with information on a conference call than I do in a meeting around a table with live bodies. I use an earpiece and microphone and will often stand and tilt my monitor so I can pace while listening. If I sit down, I'm a goner; email, chat, or the web will suck me in.[2]
If you happen to work in a cubicle jungle most of the day like me and want to create your own summer, complete with cicadas and rain storms and all sorts of wonderful mindscapes, try the freesoundproject http://www.freesound.org/➚. If I'm at my desk and have the time, I will alternate between George Noory, OTR, news, and relaxing sounds.
Likewise, the same literary mind behind The Epic of Gilgamesh could have produced The Iliad or Paradise Lost or Leaves of Grass. A word is a word is a word, in clay, on paper, or blinking back at me from my computer; of course it's inextricably fixed in its context (literal and physical) and connected in ways we cannot fully understand because we were not there, did not kiln the clay, and do not speak the language. There is as much a connection between a stylus and clay as there is between ink and paper; if you didn't live in a culture where poetry was a tactile accompaniment to an oral tradition, you can't understand Gilgamesh the way Mesopotamians understood it, which is to say, we don't.
Many will insist on face-to-face meetings because they assume everyone processes information the same way they do and need to be in front of each other to be accountable. That's sometimes true, but not for everyone. It would be nice if everyone were a teacher, if only for a little while, to observe the different ways people process information.
Seems like every series needs to do a UFO show; I love this type of shows nearly as much as the Christmas show. I suppose it's the era that soldered my synapses,[1] though it predates me. (I didn't see Lucy and Ethel don space suits and climb to the top of Empire State Building until I was in college and watching reruns.) I don't know the earliest pop culture reference, but it was alive and well in radio with many science fiction series of course, but also the half hour comedy, including the Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show.[2],[3]
Both March 26 and April, 2 1950 were on a Sunday, the day the show aired. I tried to catch any differences between them, and since they were done in front of a live audience, this shouldn't be difficult, but they appear to be the same show. The flying saucer spin would have been appropriate on April 2, the day after April Fools, but March 26 would seem to be too early. One thing you'll notice as you go back into the OTR vaults is that the popular culture of our parents and grandparents spent much less time on holiday themes before the holiday than we do today. They often saved the special songs and stories for the week of the event and did the broadcast before the event (or, more rarely, a day or a few days after the event, and then only in the case of large observances, and then because the fun factor compensated for the anachronism[4]).
Ever see a couple actors from different shows appear on a new one together? It's like watching a family reunion. When it's intentional, like The Love Boat or Fantasy Island, it can be enjoyable, but when it's coincidental, it's magic.
Hank Rosenfeld talks about his collaboration with Irving Brecher on NPR's The Story. Irving Brecher was (news to me) the creator of The Life of Riley, "on radio, in the movies, and as the very first television sitcom!"[1]
Mason Adams is probably best known for his grandfatherly intonation of "With a name like Smucker's, it has to be good,"[1] but he also did quite a bit of TV[2] and Old Time Radio, including CBS Radio Mystery Theater. (Mason Adams on IMDb➚ and Wikipedia➚)
I won't give it away, but the plots are very similar and listening to one will likely spoil the other. (In fact, there seems to be a mini-genre around this plot.) But they are both worth your time. Which one first? Peter Lorre is such a pleasure to listen to, you can enjoy "Death is a Joker" just for his presence alone; but IMHO "Death is a Joker" moves faster and for me is far more intense and believable. I would listen to that first to enjoy it the most.
Writer connection: You may remember Mason Adams in Lou Grant. (I never did understand how the character of Lou could go from TV comedy to newspaper drama, but it worked for a number of seasons.) As a writer, I was struck by actor Daryl Anderson as Dennis "Animal" Price, staff photographer; there is a scene where he is in a phone booth, talking to someone on the phone about a note he had scribbled on a piece of paper that was reflecting poorly on someone; the words were "smoke screen." I don't remember the story, only that I was dumbfounded and impressed that two words scribbled on a piece of paper could so clearly implicate the writer or his subject (which I think was a politician that had thrown up a "smoke screen"). I got an memorable lesson without having to learn it first-hand; for a writer that's rare. Nowadays young writers learn that lesson online, where the evidence remains forever.
I still remember Grandpa Cairns putting on a very old wax recording on that Magnavox of him as a boy singing (IIRC) a Scottish song. His smile was as broad as sunrise; for a moment, Grandpa was elsewhere. The record was old and Grandma was concerned it would damage the needle, so they stopped playing it. I don't know where that record is now.
The title of this blog is drawn from lyrics by The Mosquitoes[1], led by Les Brown, Jr, son of the better known Les Brown of "Band of Renown" fame. The Wellingtons are credited with singing the opening theme to Gilligan's Island in the first season, and of course they appeared as The Mosquitoes, with Les Brown, Jr guest starring as their front man. The Mosquitoes were invented for that episode, but The Wellingtons were a real act; from what I could find out, a folk trio.[2]
I'll be downloading some Dimension-X to break up my nighttime mystery treat. I like comedy even more, but overdosed on my comedy favorites a while back and have lately turned to mysteries in the evenings.
CNN reported last night on "In the Arena," just before going to Piers Morgan, on the effects of the heat wave engulfing much of the US (including me) was having. It was one of those 60-second sayonara segments that did nothing but be topical and provide a segue into the next program.
A local TV station is playing old episodes of Route 66 and I'm recording and watching them (well, listening while watching out of the corner of my eye; I have it in a small window in Windows Media Center to my upper left). I never watched the series as a child, began airing before I was born, so it's entirely new to me. I've heard though that George Maharris "defined" cool for a generation; I'm kind of surprised at that, because I prefer Glenn Corbett in the role.
(... which probably places me in the minority; but I haven't had enough exposure to Maharris to understand his charm. Also, I was introduced to Corbett as Dr Zefram Cochrane in Star Trek the Original Series, who everyone my age knows was the inventor of the warp drive. The Zefram Cochrane I knew was not the one portrayed by James Cromwell in Star Trek: First Contact. The franchise ruined a lot of good characters, and Zefram Cochrane was one of them. I'll be damned if I can understand why they added all the cranial crap to Klingons; it's a needless distraction that hides the Nazi-like precision of their cruelty and instead transforms them into Neanderthalian brutes[1].
Route 66 aired when the interstate system was being built, and the brand of auto wanderlust was a much different; a cross country trip meant many more stops, tire repairs, mom-and-pop hotels and restaurants. It was more of an adventure, and I remember that fondly, not from personal experience, but because those days were remembered fondly by the generation that preceded me, and the images and stories carried over in family photos, record albums, and home movies.
(Neighborhood friends from Erie, PA, The Chippolettis, who vacationed in Hawaii back when an airplane trip was a once-in-a-lifetime event for many people, showed us their Super 8 movies of Jack Lord walking down an outdoor hotel balcony during the filming of an episode of Hawaii Five-0; they said they watched many takes before the director was happy. BTW FWIW, I think the CBS attempt at the new Hawaii Five-O is abysmal. You can't reinvent that kind of success; you can build on it, but you can't repeat it; more on that later perhaps.)
