Variety (January 1953)

106 Wednesday, January 7, I953 RADIO-TEIJEVISIOIV Forly-sevettlh PSkIETY Anniversary JL *HHiiHiiiiiiiiuiuiiiiiiiuHi(iiiHUiiiiiinimtiniMiiiniimiiuiiiiiiiinimHm>iimiiHWH)iiiiiilimimmmHH«iiimimMininiuimiiiimiHmHimiitiimimiiiiiniiiiMiiiiiiNiimiiiimiiiimm' ; : = I WILD STATIONS I HAVE KNOWN jj c E ^ .=. uiiiuiiiimimiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiinmi H_ T TATTM GAVA i (Freelance Announcer) Whenever a group of radio and/ or television announcers get to- gether—say, for instance, at an audition—sooner or later, just kill- ing time, they’ll talk about the smalltime radio stations where they first broke in as announcers. One man will tell about the job he had on a 250-watter where he did the announcing, rode the board, checked the transmitter readings, wrote copy, pulled and replaced records, edited the news, wrote up the log, answered the phone and emptied the wastebaskets. Another will tell about his job on a 250- Watter where, when he wasn’t ac- tually on the air, he was out sell- ing time—at 50c per spot. As I say, this topic of old radio stations is a favorite with an- nouncers—ranking easily in popu- larity with the subject of Famous Fluffs. Of course, I hasten to state that I began my broadcasting life fairly ' high up in the station hierarchy— my first job was with a station of 500 watts, not just 250, though since the station was located on a pier well out on the Atlantic Ocean, at least half of this tre- mendous power was directed fruit- lessly out to sea. The standing gag was that we had a faithful bloc of listeners among the fish. This sta- tion, now defunct, was located in Convention Hall in' Asbury Park, and was one of these operations where you do everything from an- nouncing chores to sweeping out. j Transm itter Take s Hiat u s | One nf the nicest things about this station, since those of us on the announcing staff got very lit- tle time off (“those of us” may be a little grandiose, as there were just two), was that it was continu- ally going off the air. The trans- mitter seemed to break down at least twice a week, sometimes stay- ing off for days. It was quite com- mon to get all set for a terrific record show, announce it, spin the theme, and then receive notifica- tion that the transmitter was out again. This pleasantly interrupted the day’s work, but it ruined our bargaining position with the sta- tion’s manager. We kept claiming that we should get at least one day off a week, but management was able to point out that we got plenty of time off if you just add- ed up the one hiatus after another that came as a result of transmit- ter failure. At these times, we would sit around the studio mar- velling at the wondrous opportu- nities for announcers by reading about the jobs available in the want ads section. (“Announcer /. wanted. Must have first phone li- Spph Experiment Via Mpls. Video Minneapolis. What’s_declared to be “the most elaborate symphony telecasting ex- periment in the U. S. to date” started Jan. 4 with the first of WCCO-TV 10-hour long Minneapo- lis Symphony orchestra concert tel- ecasts, over the air at 2:30 p.m. on various Sundays, extending through April 26. Made possible by various' dona- tions, the experiment “focuses on problem of relating the Minneapo- lis Symphony orchestra to the com- munity which it serves,” according to the University of Minnesota an- nouncement which points out “this will not be merely a straight tele- cast of symphonic music, although experiments also will be made with format and content presentation. Project’s theme is “A Great Sym- phony Orchestra and the Region It Serves.” Key cash contribution, making the project possible, was from the Fund for Adult Education via NAEB grant-in-aid. Other cash, service and personnel contribu- tions are from WCCO-TV, Minne- apolis Symphony Orchestral Asso- ^^ciation, Minneapolis AFL Musicians Association, Minneapolis Symphony W Orchestra conductor Anatol Dorati, and the University of Minnesota, with the latter coordinating the co- operative venture. cense, car, be able to write copy and act as parttime time salesman. At least 10 yrs. experience. No floaters, drinkers or womanchasers. $35 per week, 10 hr. day. Espe- cially fine opp’ty for someone with money to invest. Station KKKK, Tapioca, Arizona”). The most fun we had was on re- mote broadcasts. An announcer on his first remote is like Amelia go- ing to her first ball. It’s exciting and challenging—you. feel that you’re finally beginning to get somewhere. Of course, our re- motes weren’t exactly like NBC’s or CBS. We didn’t carry Xavier Cugat from the Starlight Roof or anything like that. But we did have a very nice remote from a little bar down past the railroad station that lasted for about three weeks (or until the owner dis- covered that the broadcast hadn’t brought in even one extra cus- tomer). We were our own remote engineers, naturally, and we would set up the equipment, plug every- thing in, rig the mike, give the test back to the station to what we liked to call “master control,” as well as do the audience warmup. This was always fun, though once again the difference between our operation and the big time was pointed up sharply because, usu- ally, our audience in the bar would consist of three or four shadowy old men staying in out of the cold, spending the evening interminably nursing one beer. Warming them up was no easy task, but, though it was impossible to get any applause out of them, I usually managed, by air time, to get at x least one of them to go “Ya-a-a-ah!” in what could easily be interpreted as en- thusiasm. We had, of course, no phone line, so I would call tfie station in the pay phone booth .about two minutes ahead and just hold the phone until, back at the station, they gave me the go-ahead. (One of these days I must tell you about the time a woman wouldn’t get off the phone to let me make my call).-Then I’d run over to the equipment, pre-set the gain, dart to the microphone and shout, “Emil’s Place is on the air!” The biggest thing that happened to me during my year with this station was when a regular an- nouncer failed to show to announce a band remote with Harry James et Cie. from Convention Hall. The web frantically phoned our little station and asked if we could spare an announcer to do the show. As I was the only one there I an- swered that it might possibly be arranged. Then I put on some of- the longest transcriptions we had to fill till I got back and ran in to do my first network broadcast. Time after time I had seen these announcers come down from New York, chat casually with Vaugnn Monroe, Gene Krupa or whatever, warm up the audience, and then, with no excitement or fuss, go on the air— network. Not just one 1 little station In one little town, but hundreds of stations across the country! And here was I, with about four months* broadcasting experience, about to go coast to coast! It was a heady moment, I can tell you. And I think, on the whole, the show went fairly well. Of course, I was a little nervous, which accounts for my referring to the place as Convention Hall, At- lantic City, instead of Asbury Park, and for crediting a competing net- work. This, coupled with the fact that I had never seen this particular type of mike before and therefore spoke into the wrong side, thus creating an interesting telephone filter effect, may have taken some of the polish off my network debut, but, as I say, on the whole, it went well. The web told me later over the phone that they were some- what upset over a small pleasantry I had made to Harry James during the show when, in an effort to keep things on the lighter side, I had asked him what it was like to spend all his time with Rita Hayworth, totally forgetting, in the excite- ment of the evening, that it was Betty Grable he was married to. The New York office of the net even told me that the remark might have caused some sort of legal action, but, fortunately, since I was on the dead side of the mike, it could just barely be heard. How- ever, these .are minor things and, except for announcing the wrong number once and calling the male vocalist by the female vocalist’s name, it went, as I say, well. When I got back to my own little station after the show, I was horrified to . find the program director there awaiting me. It seems that one of the longest transcriptions we had in our library, and which I had put on to fill for me during my ab- sence, was “The Christmas Story,” and, as this particular event took place in July, we had hurried right over from home to discuss my lat- est theory of programming.'It was doubly disastrous having him there at that time because I had hoped to get out of having to empty the wastebasket- that evening. The only place to empty the basket, which was always the last chore to be done before heading for home, was on the other side of Conven- tion Hall, and the only way to the other side was, through the ball- room. So, there was no help for it, and the hun • ’eds of dancers were somewhat startled to see the big network announcer who had just signed off the show weave his embarrassed way through them to empty out the day’s trash. The next station I worked at was a 5,000-watter in Massachusetts where things were quite different. Here we had an AFRA contract, congenial surroundings and a large staff of engineers to do all the en- gineering work. Life was perhaps pleasanter in a way, but much duller. And when I finally got to New York and went to work for a network station—a radio station that looked like a radio station— I used to think back often to the hectic, hilarious days in Asbury Park, where, to quote a very apt phrase, we didn’t make any money, but we had a lot of fun. BEST WISHES KENT TAYLOR Currently on TV as “BOSTON BLACK IE” Humor’s No Laughing Matter By RED BUTTONS This may sound crazy, but after my first 13 weeks in television and believe me, it’s been the roughest, toughest three months in nvv 17 years of show business—I love it. In fact, I love it like a brother How can comedy be tough? Why do I like to beat my brains out* just for a laugh? I’m glad you asked me. Let m « tell you how it all came about. me When Mario Lewis, CBS-TV’s executive pro . ducer, called me up last summer and asked* “Red" how’d you like to do a TV show—a half-hour eveiv week?”, right away I get coy all over the place But all the time I’m playing hard-to-get. Marin should hear what I’m mumbling!: “Hoo-hah, this sounds good ... I’m tired of shuffling around on club dates . . . this is my bit? chance to live like a human being . . . it’ll k e J; me out of town while I’m still in New York V do all my travelling on the cable, the camera has all the headaches ... a chance to play the moun tains without riding on a bus . . . Florida without the upper berth . . . Missouri without the mule train . . . California without the covered wagon . . . and I work one night a week! Thk is fine . . . this is for Red Buttons!” End mumbling. “Mario, I don’t know—but I’ll think it over,” I said, filling mv foun- tain pen with the other hand. We made a deal, of course. The show went on. I don’t want to siv the reviews were great. They were. But this is when I found out for the first time, that the coin has two sides. ’ Believe me, the easiest half-hour of the week is when I’m on (lie air. Nobody can come near me for 30 minutes! It’s that other 167!^ hours . . . skull sessions with the writers read the script . . . memorize it . . . play it out in rehearsal it’s no good . . . throw it away . . . start all over . . . another conference . . . this is better . . polish it up . . . rehearse some more . . . costume fittings ... the censors don’t like this bit . . . rewrite it . . . more re- hearsal . . . watch the other programs to make sure we don’t copy time for studio rehearsal . . . now the technicians get in the act Harriet, send out for'coffee and Danish . . . haven’t eaten all dav . * on second thought, make that French crullers . . . take five, everybody . . . who’se got some ideas for next week . . . let’s go . . . this won’t work . . . where’s the writers ... we only got two hours to fix it up . . break for dinner . . . everybody be back in 40 minutes for makeup * * t See what I mean? But then comes that big pause that refreshes* Thirty minutes on the air, and we start all over again. “All right,” you say, “Buttons is a convincer. Television is a touch hard. assignment. Just as tough for the comedians as it is for the heavies. But that love! What’s with this love stuff?” Sure, I love it. And why not? ’ Some soft music, maestro—and I’ll tell you why. It’s that one, big compensation—that one big thrill. The thrill of recognition. Believe me, it’s really great. You walk down the street, and you hear somebody say: “Look—there goes Red Skelton.” Red Buttons Radio Reviews MR. MYSTERY With Paul Killian; Carmena Free- man, guest Producer: Wynn Wright Director: Charles Granzow Writer: Mildred Merrill 15 Mins.; Tues., Thurs., 10:15 p.m. MBS, from New York New series is basically a promo- tion piece for Mutual’s 8 p.m. cross-the-board. whodunit strip and its high-rated Sunday detective lineup. Kickoff stanza opened with a quickie five-minute monolog (with dramatic flashbacks) about a 22-year-old girl wasting in prison as a result of her ties with a holdup artist. It was followed by “Mr. Mystery” (Paul Killian) spieling about the web’s collection of pri- vate eye programs and the fact that the new show is designed to intro- duce dialers to the “people behind the stories.” First guest was Carmena Free- man, editor of Dell’s Inside Detec- tive and Front Page Detective mags. Gab dealt with the unusual aspects of a woman editing crime publications. She told how she got the post, following work as a news- paper police reporter. The story dramatized earlier, incidentally, was from one of her mags and led to the capture of the hoodlum when a restaurant owner spotted the killer’s pic in the mag and recognized her cook. As a blurb, it’s a fairly interest- ing vehicle. Bril. MISS BARBARA ENTERTAINS 15 Mins.; Tues., 12:45 p.m. DY-DEE SERVICE WRGB, Schenectady A 13-month baby—the daughter of an unidentified WRGB director —stars on the experimental “Miss Barbara Entertains.” The cameras are focused on her and guests (between 10 and 18 months, and serviced by the sponsor) in a play container, while Ted Baughn does off-screen comment and commer- cials, and an engineer spins music. Verdict, on first and second blocks, would be interesting but probably, to some male viewers, a shade on- the monotonous, There was a sameness as the tots toyed with blocks, wrapping paper and other objects, While Barbara’s well- dressed mother stepped in occa- sionally to set things right. Lenses did not catch her face, although once, momentarily, they photo- graphed a chin corner. Piquancy naturally surrounds, and uncertain- ty creates anticipation, on such a program—how will the small ones behave, what vagrant impulse will seize them? Jaco. Top Churchman Defends Kaufman in 'Show Biz’ Row, Blasts CBS’ Move Ousting of George S. Kaufman from the panel of CBS-TV’s “This Is Show Business” turned into a cause celebre last week, with several other comics refusing bids to replace him and a high church official deploring the firing in a strongly-worded note to CBS board chairman William S. Paley. Kaufman was dropped from the show when the net reportedly re-., ceived “several hundred” protests from viewers after the playwright, on the Dec. 21 stanza, quipped, “Let’s make this one program on which no one will sing ’Silent Night.’ ” Top CBS execs, meanwhile, have claimed off the record that Kauf- man’s axing was done at the in- sistence of American Tobacco, the show’s sponsor, and BBD&O, the ciggie firm’s agency. Web set Steve Allen to replace Kaufman on the Jan. 4 broadcast of “Show Biz,” which is slated to bow out of its Sunday night at 7:30 slot in a few weeks. Luckies is dropping the show in favor of a new Ann Sothern vidfilm series. In his letter to Paley, the Rev. Dr. Truman B. Douglass, chairman of the broadcasting and film com- mission of the National Council of Churches, also took the network to task for other so-called irrespon- sible firings on the basis of pro* tests from a “minority” of view- ers. “It would seem to me,” he wrote, “that before CBS accepted these self-appointed defenders of sanctity as arbiters of good taste in the realm of religion, some at- tempt might have been made to obtain the opinion of responsible representatives of religious bodies.” He denied that' Kauf- man’s remark was sacrilegious, declaring that the “real sacrilege is the merciless repetition of ‘Si- lent Night’ and similar Christmas hymns by crooners, hillbillies, dance bands and other musical barbarians.” Kaufman’s spot previously had been offered to Fred Allen and Garry Moore, both of whom had turned it down, Allen offered no explanation but Moore reportedly refused it on the basis that the show was only due for three more broadcasts. On his own daytime show via CBS last week, however, Moore lashed out against the in- cident,