Radio-TV mirror (July-Dec 1954)

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Odor OffPna ^°man's ;n plain envoi s? bailed "ENNDS", Dept tV }p ^ * e 222, Murray Hi]', Q?'f.P-° *°* York 16, NTy. station, New What Every Linkletter Should Know (Continued from page 32) confused that my conversation was mostly stuttered English, Dad talked in fairly unbroken French, and our companion spoke a mixture of fractured everything. What's the point of all this? Just this: My mother and dad are always trying to teach us kids, by example, a way of life. I guess you could say honesty was a good description of our way of life — that is, being honest with yourself. It seems that if you are honest to your own conscience you'll find happiness and peace of mind, you'll never hurt anyone, and the golden rule takes care of itself. So Mom and Dad set this philosophy down in an atmosphere of understanding. You can talk about anything at our house and you're guaranteed to get all the information on the subject that the folks have at their command. That's what they want. If the kids have questions about first dates, who and when do you start kissing the boys or girls, what about sex, where do babies come from — all those questions fall into their domain. They'd much rather we come to them with our questions than go somewhere else to get answers which are not reliable. So that was their reasoning in regard to the French sidewalk-cafe episode. Here I am, a young buck of seventeen, and they figured it was time I learned, close-up, about some of the things that go on over on the other side of the street, so to speak. Just meeting the lady in question was interesting enough. In talking to her, Dad, like the great emcee he is, got her to tell us the story of her life. Poor, and even kicked out of her father's farm house because there was so little to eat, she had had to fend for herself. There was no work in the big city, Paris; so she was forced into the streets. In that conversation,. I learned as much about the life of France as I did about the life of the girl. It was made very clear to me that the culture of France is entirely different from our American way of life; they think differently about things; they're mostly farmers; they're not mechanized as we are — so I really learned a lot. As for the girl, I felt sorry for her. It was very obvious to me, too, what the lesson was my dad was trying to drive home. He was showing me as close up as he dared what happens to people when they sink in life. Another point was obvious to me, too: I was a young man; I'd soon be away at college, out on my own. There'd be great stretches of time when I'd be out of the sight ofjny parents. I'd have to make all my own decisions. Dad was simply making it easier for me to be honest with myself. He didn't say it, but he was thinking: "There may be opportunities for you to make the acquaintance of this sort of person. You've had your chance to see her up close. You may someday ask yourself, 'Do I want to be identified with this sort of thing?' And if you are honest with yourself, as we have taught you, then your only answer can be 'No.' " This last summer, you know, I worked with Dad on Art Linkletter's House Party. He set it up so I'd get experience helping him with the commercials, then later working on stunts with the audience. The first day I went into the studio to do the bit with the commercials, Dad sent me straight home instead! Why? Because I didn't know the first thing about Pillsbury Cake Mix, the product we were going to sell. He said, "How do you expect to make an honest presentation if you've never used the product? Have you ever bought any Pillsbury?" "No," I said, thinking that he knew Mother did all the shopping. "Well, do you know that Pillsbury is the biggest-selling cake mix? Have you ever used any?" "No-o-o-o," I said. "Okay," he said, "then the first thing I want you to do is go down to the market; stand by the flour table and make a tally for the first fifty boxes of cake mix that are picked up. Then I want you to buy a box of the brand that sold most, take it home and bake a cake." So I did. Pillsbury won by ten lengths. I took some home, baked the cake. Maybe you saw it on the show. If I do say so myself, it was terrific. Believe me, I can now honestly say that Pillsbury is the greatest; and that's what Dad was after. There's a great "do it yourself" wave breaking across the nation. If I may say so, I think Dad made the first splash: He was a do-it-yourself man when the wave was just a ripple. For teaching us kids the philosophy of "be honest with yourself," my dad thinks "do it yourself" is the ideal tool. Of course, he's right. Being honest with yourself takes decisions, and we all make our own decisions. Take my diving suit, for example. There was a decision I had to make, and it wasn't easy. There's a crazy new sport, "skin diving," that takes a rubber head-to-toe swim suit, swim fins, face mask, and fish spear — which all cost money. The outfit is a magic key which opens up a new wonderland, the ocean floor. You can get your dinner down there, too, everything from bass to abalone, and the wonderful part is, it's all free! So I wanted this swimming gear in the worst way. Like I said, though, it was expensive. Sure, I had the money in the bank, but I also had my eye on college; that bank money was pretty well labeled. So I had a decision to make: the swim gear or a hole in my college savings. The decision wasn't easy — for, as Dad taught me, I had to be honest with myself. After some thought, I realized that college came first. I wasn't defeated. I've got a Mason jar in my drawer into which I throw all my nickles, dimes and pennies. Everything over that goes into the bank. I knew I had exactly thirty dollars and twenty -two cents in the jar. With that, I went down to the Navy supply store, bought five yards of sheet rubber, and Mother and I made the diving suit! It served me very well and I saved about a hundred bucks. Next summer, I'm going to be out on my own. I hope to have a radio or television show in a small town somewhere in one of the western states, so I'll really be "going it myself." My dad thinks that security is a wonderful thing for kids in their formative years. But the time comes when you've got to let them shift for themselves. I'm frankly looking forward to being on my own. It will give me every opportunity to make my own decisions, to put into practice the philosophy Dad has taught me. I hope I come out as well as he has. You know, he had it pretty rough as a kid. He probably had plenty of chances to make the wrong decisions, to take the wrong turning in the road. But he always played it straight, he always played it honest. And that's because his father gave him a philosophy to live by. And that's what my dad's done for us: He's given us kids love, security, and affection in our young years when we've needed them most. He's given us things, too, but he hasn't gone overboard — we've always been able to work within our means for the toys and gear we've wanted. But the most important thing our mother and dad have given us is a way of life. So that's my philosophy of life; and I guess it's a good golden rule to live by.