Jack Benny presents the "Golden Memories of Radio."

Kudos to my brother. This year he got me (his wife, too, of course, but I'm pretty sure he's the one who found it) a set of records of Jack Benny reminiscing about, you guessed it, the golden age of radio.

I finally got a chance to listen to side one of record one last night and was immediately hooked. Benny describes radio as "do-it-yourself television." You paint your own picture with your imagination. He begins with a clip to help warm up your imagination. And what is said clip? McGee opening his infamous closet, much to Molly's dismay, and the inevitable tumbling out of all of his junk. The scene is an array of clangs and bangs and clashes. Not a single item is named, yet the listener is able to create a clear picture for themselves.

The next clip comes from Philco Radio Time, a show hosted by my first love, Bing Crosby. Benny and his real-life wife and on-air costar are the guests on this episode, and the former is attempting a solo on his violin. After a few failed tries he proclaims, "I can't understand it, I've never played so poorly." To which Crosby replies, "Oh cheer up, sure you have."

Then Jack plays a clip chosen by George Burns himself as one of his particular favorites from his show. It's a scene where Gracie is complaining about a list of the best men from the previous half century. Gracie has her own idea about who should have been chosen as number one on the list, and goes on and on about what a great man he is, so handsome, so talented. And naturally George thinks he is referring to him but Gracie bursts his bubble by revealing it's Charles Boyer. George is shocked. Charles Boyer over Thomas Edison? Over Albert Einstein? "Einstein is the father of relativity," he interjects. "Who's she?" Gracie Responds. "Relativity Einstein?....I think she's with Warner Bros." is George's classic answer.

The last clip is Amos & Andy, a show I've never been able to get into. Mostly because they're white actors playing off of the archetypes of African Americans. The issue of racism in OTR is a post all in its own.

Coming attractions from "Golden Memories of Radio":
- Day Time Radio & Commercials
- The Great Radio Comedians
- Radio Adventure & Drama
- The Classic Radio News Broadcasts
- The March Toward WWII
- On-The-Spot Coverage of Sports! (the "!" is in the title, I didn't add that)
- Radio Reports WWII
- Great Moments of Humor & Pathos
- Special Production: Arch Oboler presents "Cat Wife." (I've heard this before and it's disturbingly creepy. I'll try to find it online. Totally worth a listen.)

I'm still here.

But all of my OTR tapes are in storage and my iPod is in desperate need of some updates. Stay tuned, I'll get on that shortly. Until then I'm searching online for this amazing "tale that is well-calculated to keep you in...Suspense!" starring Bette Davis that I listened to on a drive home from Dallas a few weeks back. When I find it, I'll tell you where you can listen to it.

Until then, my fellow OTR-aficionados...

Did you catch it? Did you?

Probably not. For sure no one in the audience did. It was probably the funniest part of his whole bit. Don't watch the whole thing, by any means. Let it load, then scan forward to 2:40 then watch until 2:50.



Now here is some good comedy to explain what caught my eye. Johnny Carson was copying it over 50 years ago, and last night Billy Crystal copied it on American Idol.
Classic.

oh. my. gosh.

A whole new world has been opened up to me.
I could create an entire new wardrobe out of Old-Time radio shirts.
Wow.
Fibber McGee and Molly

Burns and Allen

Jack Benny

The Surprise Party.

If I had been alive in 1940 my vote would have gone to Gracie Allen for President. In fact, come November, I might be writing in her name.

I know my name is Molly McGee, but I chose her mainly for sentimental reasons. That is a post to come. However, my true favorite comedienne has been and always will be Ms. Gracie Allen.

In March of 1940, Gracie Allen announced that she was running -- against Roosevelt, mind you -- for President. As her husband, George Burns, liked to explain the birth of the idea:

"Gracie and I were at home in Beverly Hills with our children [when she] suddenly remarked, ‘I’m tired of knitting this sweater. I think I’ll run for president this year.’”

Here are some classic "Gracie-isms" from the campaign trail:

She ran as the head of the Surprise Party. Why the Surprise Party? As Gracie later explained, her mother was a Democrat, her father a Republican, and Gracie had been born a Surprise.

Her campaign platform was "redwood trimmed with ‘nutty’ pine."

Queried on the Neutrality Bill pending before Congress, her position was an unequivocal "If we owe it, let's pay it."

Allen was a strong supporter of the Dies Committee--"If we didn't keep [it] going, who'd color our Easter eggs?"

Asked if she would recognize Russia, Gracie showed uncharacteristic hesitation: "I don't know. I meet so many people...."

As I was doing research for this post, I discovered that I can actually buy campaign merchandise! Generous hearts check this out, and know that according the page's size chart, I'd wear a medium shirt and I like it in brown.

"If the country's going Gracie, so can you."

Ask Molly McGee, part I

girlfriday poses the question:
did TV kill the Radio star?

For most, yes. For others, no.

Some never tried to transition into television, some tried and failed. A lucky few found success on the small screen.


George Burns and Gracie Allen are probably two of the most likable people to ever have careers in Hollywood. It would only make sense that the television version of their radio show would be so successful it would last for eight years.



The Jack Benny Program ran for an impressive 15 years on television.



Impressive, until you consider that his radio show ran for 23 years. To put in perspective, when he started the show, America was in the first years of the Depression; when he ended it, Eisenhower was president. He was still kickin' it on the radio when I Love Lucy and Ozzie & Harriet were airing on television. When his TV show ended in 1965, Beatlemania was still sweeping the nation. From Prohibition to LBJ. He was a part of American pop culture for that long.

Suspense? Dragnet? The Lone Ranger? All great contributions to the world of television that were birthed on radio.

Fibber McGee & Molly and The Great Gildersleeve, both hugely popular on the airwaves, only lasted a season on the telly. These are only two examples of what was typically the trend when shows tried to make the jump.

Of course TV was the ultimate cause for the demise of radio, which makes sense, and is just what happens in a world of advancing technology. Certain stars transcended radio. Their popularity couldn't be confined to the radio. America accepted them into their hearts, and weren't ready to let them go just because the medium they had met them on was fading into the past. Some stars were not so lucky. Faces made for radio, I guess they would say.

If you were pleased by this answer, and wish to have your own question answered, post them in the comments section. Molly McGee will do her best to answer your queries, that she will.

Screen Director's Assignment. Production: this blog. Star: me. Director: me.

I have kind of an obsessive personality. Not about all things. There are just certain ideas that I get into my head that I can't let go of. This blog, for instance. When I decided to create it, I had a concept. Posts about specific episodes, each with a headline that referenced Old-Time Radio in some creative way.

Then the unthinkable happened.

I had been using the same cassette and record player contraption for more than a decade. It also has an 8 track attached, but I've never used that. I use the record player from time to time, mostly for Christmas music and a Best of Mamas and Papas album. The cassette player I used on a nightly basis. I would choose a tape one night before bed, probably a favorite that I've listened to for years, and then I would listen to the tape for usually a month, maybe two. Like I said, obsessive.

One night in December, I went to push play on The Screen Director's Assignment of Miracle on 34th Street, and no noise emerged from my two-feet tall speakers, est. circa 1985. I took out the tape, assuming it was on the wrong side. It wasn't. I put a new tape in, pushed play and examined. Nothing moved. It just sat there, silently. I checked the tape, I hit the tape player a few times, because that usually fixes things. Nothing.

She lived a good life. She lived in seven houses, two cities and two states. She was kind of like a security blanket for me, or at least the device that delivered the blanket to me each night. She will probably be replaced by some lame-ass boombox from Goodwill, whenever I get around to going there. Maybe today. I wanted to show you a picture of her, but I haven't taken the picture yet, so that's why I couldn't download it. So that's Edmund Gwenn. He played Santa Claus in the 1947 film version and in the radio one that I haven't been able to listen to in over a month.

During Christmas I wanted to post about my favorite Christmas shows, I wanted to provide exact quotes but I couldn't. Instead of writing perfectly good posts quoting my shows with near perfect precision, I just didn't write at all. I didn't write anything. I can quote those shows backwards to front, but I wanted more. Because I have an idea and I want that idea to be executed perfectly. I need to get over that. It's really annoying.

Someday I'll provide you with a rundown of my all time favorite Christmas shows, but I'll surprise you with it. Who doesn't need a little Christmas spirit in, say, April?