The Friars, Pennies and Benny

Jack Benny died on December 26, 1974 and, for a number of years, around the anniversary of his death, I've posted a newspaper editorial or column from the next day or so where the writer outlines what Jack meant to people and to comedy.

This time, I’m just going to pass along a few clippings of tribute. These are from 20 years earlier.

Eddie Cantor had a syndicated newspaper column. He had been a huge vaudeville star before Jack (growing up in New York helped) and made a mark in the early days of talking pictures. Jack evidently liked Cantor, who appeared a number of times with him on radio and TV. Jack also lobbied for him after Camels cancelled his radio show for speaking out against bigoted broadcast haranguer Father Coughlin. Stingy jokes stuck with Benny until the day he died:

Here’s Eddie’s note about Jack in a column of Dec. 8, 1954.

“I don’t think Jack Benny got his money just from saving pennies. Of course, that helped. I’ll never forget a part at his house a few years ago. Several of us were kidding around with each other’s theme songs. Rudy Vallee sang “Love in Bloom”; I sang “My Time is Your Time”; Jack Benny sang “I Love to Spend—.” That’s as far as he got—he had to be put to bed, hysterical!”
As the MC’s say, “Seriously Folks,” it’s surprising that Jack Benny can remain a millionaire, what with all the contributions he made to worthwhile causes. You can take it from Cantor, the old “chnorrer” (beggar, to you). No one in show business, but no one, gives more than Mary Livingston’s [sic] husband. I know. That’s the “jack” in Benny you never heard about.

Hy Gardner had a show on WPIX in New York and became one of the principals in the disastrous replacement for Steve Allen’s Tonight show in 1957. He went on to To Tell the Truth until Mark Goodson or someone realised Tom Poston was funnier. But he was, by profession, a New York newspaper columnist whose work was syndicated.

One of his columns dealt with that venerable New York institution of the first half of the twentieth century: the celebrity testimonial dinner. Jack Benny (and others of his vintage) referred to them on their radio shows. Here’s a snippet from Gardner’s column of Dec. 8, 1954. I can’t help but wonder if Benny’s writers came up with the first-mentioned joke.

Mary Steals the Spot
All the thunder of a shindig the New York Friars threw for Jack Benny, when Jack moved to Hollywood, was stolen by his wife, Mary Livingstone, even though she wasn't present.
She was home, but her telegram, read aloud, got the biggest laugh of the night. Milton Berle, Harry Hershfield, Doc Rockwell, Jay C. Flippen, Lou Holtz — all the regulars were on the dais; one after another they eulogized Benny until he began growing a third head. At the height of his flight into the clouds, a Western Union messenger arrived with a telegram. The toastmaster read the wire to himself, then stood up, put his hand solemnly on Jack's shoulder and read the message aloud: "Dear Jack," it said, "when you come home tonight, don't forget to put the garbage in the incinerator. Lovingly, Mary.” . . .
On George Washington's birthday this year, Jack Benny flew in from Hollywood to turn the tables on [George] Jessel and act as toastmaster at a testimonial dinner. Introducing Mayor Wagner of New York, Jack said that Bob had the third most important job in the country. "Being President, of course, is first, the second," he explained, "is being head waiter at the Copacabana when Martin and Lewis are appearing there."

Erskine Johnson was another columnist, syndicated by the Newspaper Enterprise Association. In December, he had a few brief notes about Jack:

Jack Benny had lunch in a Fairfax Avenue delicatessen and the owner hastily scribbled this sign for his window: “Jack Benny is eating lunch here.”

Jack Benny about movies on TV: “They’re like furniture—either early American or old English.”

And there came this unusual complaint Johnson reported on Dec. 4:

Jack Benny can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned, but TViewers are complaining to me about his smug “isn’t this funny” smiles directed to the camera in the midst of his laugh ploys. They say they don’t mind Jack playing to the camera in his opening monolog, but that his lens-peeking between plot lines is irritating and unnecessary.
“Never look at the camera,” is rule No. 1 in the ABC’s of movie emoting.
Maybe it should apply to TV laugh-getting, too.

Some viewers don’t seem to have understood Jack’s expression was facetious. And it was his expressions that helped build his television career and kept him on the air until he died.