Nuts and Volts BGs

Tom O’Loughlin painted the backgrounds for “Nuts and Volts,” a 1963 Warners cartoon directed by Friz Freleng. Layouts are by Hawley Pratt. The last two frames are parts of long pans that I can’t clip together.

Bing Crosby, Secret Weapon

Bing Crosby and Bob Hope went on the road on screen but during World War Two, they were on separate roads to entertain the troops. But, even then, the Old Groaner couldn’t escape the shadow of Ski Nose.

Here are two stories from 1944 about Crosby overseas. They both deal with a little-known fact of the war—Crosby was used as part of psychological warfare. The first is from the United Press.

Bing Crosby Goes to Work on Wehrmacht With Assistance of Phonetic German
By ROBERT MUSEL
LONDON, Sept. 3 (UP)—While Hitler is fooling around with buzzbombs and pick-a-back planes we're hurling a real secret weapon at Germany—der Bingle.
Der Bingle is what the Germans call it. Back home it's Bing Crosby.
From a position dangerously near its launching platform (a grand piano in the studio of the American Broadcasting system in Europe) I watched der Bingle go to work on the Wehrmacht. It was beautiful to see and hear and experts of psychological warfare said its effect would be beautiful too.
Der Bingle took off first in a snappy chat to the Wehrmacht which, the most powerful transmitters in Europe will smash right at the quivering ears of Hitler's "Herrenvolk." He astounded frontline observers by using reasonably good German. Since he doesn't speak German, der Bingle was later asked how come.
"I don't do it with mirrors," he said. "I do it with phonetics."
Der Bingle is a great favorite with the Germans and the gents from psychological warfare conceived the idea of having him do a little something direct, for the staggering Wehrmacht which probably doesn't appreciate what Generals Bradley and Patton are doing to it.
Thus, as Bing stepped to the microphone to make a recording, there was a mental image in my mind of a harried Hun, gasping and breathless and resting by the roadside ready to listen to anything as a change from the shell spitting tanks of his pursuers.
Bing, consulting his phonetic chart, began:
"Hello, German soldiers. Here speaks Bing Crosby. I've just arrived from America—the country where nobody is afraid of the gestapo and where everybody has a right to say and write what he thinks."
Der Bingle, rippling through the Teutonic gutturals with complete ease, told the Germans about constitutional rights, adding, "I sincerely hope that our rights and our freedoms soon will be observed again in your country. That's what we Americans are fighting for."
Letting this sink in for a brief instant, der Bingle signalled Corp. Jack Russian, pianist of Major Glenn Miller's band, and said: "But I didn't come here to preach. I came here to sing a few songs."
Bing then sang a song from a film in which he starred, except that the lyrics were cleverly twisted so that the sense of the song was really: "Come with me out of that nasty Hitlerland and back to the free world."
After that, because many Europeans such as forced laborers in Germany understand French, Bing did a song in that language. His phonetic French was not bad either.
A typist passing by asked what was going on inside the studio. "Bing Crosby is singing to the Nazis," she was told.
Increduously, the typist exclaimed: "To the Nazis! What kind of punishment is that?"

This is an unbylined piece from The New York Sun, October 12, 1944. The part about enemy territory was widely quoted for years.

CROSBY HELD TOWN IN REICH
Bing, Back, Tells of Exciting Eight-week Tour.
A two-man invasion of German-held territory in France and a two-minute capture of a town in the Metz area was accomplished by Bing Crosby, who is used to capturing top honors in crooning, and an Army lieutenant, while Der Bingle was on a U. S. O. Camp Shows tour in France. The singer recalled the experience today at the Waldorf-Astoria as he discussed his eight-week tour in which he sang for G. I. audiences numbering anywhere from a dozen to 15,000 soldiers.
Bing’s misadventure occurred early one morning when, after he attended Mass by himself, a lieutenant offered to drive him to a point near the front lines a few miles from where he was scheduled to sing.
“After we had traveled for ten or fifteen minutes,” the singer stated, “I became concerned because the telephone lines had run out and when you don’t see them, you know you’ve gone too far. Then we got to this town and I was surprised because I had looked at the war map earlier and it was still in German hands. I asked the lieutenant and he said that he was lost, and I said, ‘let's get out of here fast.’” Talking to a commanding officer that night Bing mentioned that he had been in the town.
“You couldn’t have been.”
“I sure as hell was,” Crosby replied.
“It was in German hands,” the officer protested.
“Well, we had it for two minutes.”
Lost 10 Pounds on Trip.

Crosby, who lost ten pounds during the trip, put on his show while under German gunfire on numerous occasions and was in London while buzz bombs, which he described as “frightening and devastating,” were falling. Though he had lunch with Gen. Eisenhower and visited Gen. Bradley and other high officers, he played only for enlisted men.
Praising the morale of the troops as “terrific,” Bing said: “The boys want to get home, but there is no whining. They want to know that the people at home are staying behind them and there is no weakening, and the needed supplies will be gotten to them. They are somewhat concerned about a complacent attitude. They’ve read about postwar planning discussions, and they don't want to hear about post-war plans. They want to get the war won first.
Crosby, who was dressed in a tan and blue sports combination, puffed occasionally on a big briar pipe while being interviewed. Asked if the report that he was a member of the Hollywood for Dewey Committee was true, he answered: “I don’t know anything about that.” He said that the men asked him mostly about Bob Hope (whom Crosby claimed the G. I.'s like most of all the entertainers), his children, his horses and Brooklyn. He mentioned that “a lot of pictures” have their premieres overseas.
Songs Soldiers Wanted.
In discussing the soldiers’ preference in songs, Crosby said that the ones they most requested him to sing were “White Christmas,” “Swinging on a Star” and “San Fernando Valley.” He declared that he had made recordings of songs for propaganda broadcasts to Germany, singing in German from words written out phonetically. “They told me I was adequate,” he said.
Although a great many German prisoners watched the shows and smiled, they probably didn’t know what was going on, Bing said. When asked if he had converted any of them, he answered with a grin: “I probably widened the breach.”
He lauded the Red Cross workers and members of his troupe which included Joe de Rita, Jean Darrell, singer; Darlene Garner, dancer; Buck Harris, guitarist, and Earl Baxter, accordionist. He said that he would leave for the coast tomorrow night and resume his radio program late this month.

The story shows you the difference between print and radio. In the Sun story, Crosby uses the word “hell.” No one thought anything of it. But when he ad-libbed it on the Jack Benny show on March 26, 1947, all, um, hell broke loose on the NBC switchboard.

Egyptian Melodies and Butts

What’s with Walt Disney and his butt violation jokes, anyway? I swear every single early Disney cartoon has someone getting shot, stabbed or whacked in the rear end, or characters shoving their tushes together (in 1931’s “Busy Beavers,” the title characters clunk their tales together).

Here are some examples from “Egyptian Melodies” (1931).



Despite this, the real point of the cartoon seems to have been an exercise in perspective (especially from about 1:14 to 2:00) and montage (toward the end). As you might expect, there’s no plot. Just a lot of dancing and butt piercing. Oh, and a hand-on-hip fey character.

Guns Everywhere and Nowhere

“I’m going to toin out da lights,” yells the detective in ‘Who Killed Who?’, “and when I toin ‘em on, I wanna see the gun here on dis table!” So he carries out the cliché.



Surprise! Followed by jumping take.



“We’ll try it again,” he shouts to the suspicious looking staff of the dead man’s mansion. Lights out. Another surprise and another take.



For reasons unknown, there are no credits, just a title card with Tex Avery’s name. Kent Rogers and Sara Berner supply voices.

Jack Benny's Shy New Singer

It was not an enviable task for Kenny Baker.

He was hired as the vocalist on the Jack Benny radio show and made his debut a week after Michael Bartlett walked out to grasp at a movie career. There wasn’t much time for Baker, Benny or writer Harry W. Conn to invent a schtick for him to use on the show when he wasn’t singing. But they came up with a naïve, at times ignorant, character that stuck with Baker—and eventually gnawed at him—until he quit the show after the episode of June 18, 1939.

Baker’s first show was on March 11, 1935. His character was a hit, so much so that the “dumb” aspect of Mary Livingstone’s character was written out—two dummies weren’t needed—and the snarky, sarcastic part was left behind, which made the show even better.

Here’s a Brooklyn Daily Eagle profile of Baker published January 19, 1936.

Out of a Blue Sky
Radiography of Kenny Baker, Benny’s Singing Stooge, on WJZ These Sunday Nights—Baker Is Apology Personified
By Jo Ranson
WE HAVE with us today (ahem, ahem) Kenny Baker, Jack Benny’s shy tenor-stooge and beyond the shadow of any doubt radio’s most timid soul . . . so hurry, hurry, hurry . . . when a featured performer steps on the stage the conductor in the pit usually marks the occasion by calling for a brassy fanfare and crash of the cymbals . . . but when young Kenny walks to the footlights—if they intend to keep the ballyhoo in character with him—they will have nothing noisier than the waving of an ostrich feather fan . . . he is a great big boy—somewhat over six feet tall and built in proportion . . . but the moment someone shoves him in front of a microphone, sticks a script into his hands and tells him to read, he is practically tongue-tied . . . if the microphone were new to him, we would not bring this up . . . but he has been singing for the movies a couple of seasons now . . . however, being a radio actor is something new to him . . . the characterization Benny worked up for him came as the result of an accident . . . just the same it is a “natural” . . . the first day he came to rehearsal, he was late . . . the gang was sitting around going through their initial reading . . . “Pardon me,” he stammered, “am I intruding?” Of course, he wasn’t, Jack assured him, and told him to make himself at home . . . Kenny took a seat in the corner of the studio . . . in a moment the jester introduced him to the cast . . . “What do you do?” cracked Mary Livingstone, instead of the traditional, “How do you do?” . . . “Excuse me, I’m a tenor singer,” countered Baker, in a loud voice that could be heard two feet away . . . Jack saw the humor of the situation, and almost verbatim it went into the first program... most of Benny’s former singing stooges have been wise guys, who knew the answers even before the questions are asked . . . Kenny doesn’t realize that he has the answer . . . he’s apology personified . . . “Gosh, you’ve got a funny face,” Mary told him one Sunday night . . . “Gee, I’m awful sorry, but what can I do about it,” replied Kenny politely . . . “You can stay home, can’t you?” flipped the Seattle poetess . . . “I know. I’ve tried that already,” came back the tenoring Milquetoast... and when hearty laughter greets his remark, he is genuinely surprised . . . Jack Benny is one of the most affable people in show business and the easiest person in the world to talk to . . . but Kenny is so shy he kept calling him “Mr. Benny” until Jack finally took him aside and told him that sort of formality would have to stop . . . one night after the show Johnny Green invited Kenny to join him at one of Hollywood’s bars for a nightcap . . . after giving his order, the music master turned to his guest with “What’s yours, Kenny?”. . . “Oh, a fudge sundae, as usual,” the timid soul said . . . Johnny told Jack the story a few days later and the next Sunday (no pun intended) the comic worked it into his “Barbary Toast” parody . . . Kenny is getting over his shyness slowly under the tutelage of Benny, who seems to be able to make good actors out of all kinds of singers and orchestra leaders . . . he admits he doesn’t have to work on Baker much . . . he is afraid if he gets any better, he’ll be worse, if you see what we mean . . . in other words, his naturally reticent manner is so disarming and comes over the mike so well, that Jack doesn't want to spoil him.. despite his timid-soul voice, Kenny is a pretty determined sort of a young man . . . among his accomplishments, he lists having acquired a wife at the age of 20 and a musical education paid for out of his own earnings . . . both are interesting stories.. Kenny and his wife were high school sweethearts and gave each other their wedding rings as graduation presents . . . after finishing school, Kenny’s father tried to interest him in the furniture business . . . he went out as a salesman and came back with no orders for three months . . . then he decided to work as a day laborer on the Boulder Dam project and saved money to take vocal lessons . . . like most everybody else, he has a secret ambition . . . he wants to be a violinist, but he has kept pretty quiet about it what with that other would-be Heifetz, the world’s foremost interpreter of “Love in Bloom” on the program.

Arguably, Baker’s tenure on the Benny show was the apex of his career. He was already on two shows when he departed and carried on with the “Texaco Star Theatre,” where he felt he’d get better songs, more air time and—most important to him—not have to act like a dummy. A format revision a few years later cost him his job. He had at least two shows of his own (one syndicated on disc by Ziv) but never attained the heights he reached when Jack Benny plucked him out of obscurity. You can read more about Baker’s departure HERE, his daytime variety show HERE and his later reflections HERE.

Toledo Loves Mel-O-Toons

If you try to think of the names of TV cartoon series before 1960 that were not comedic in nature, few names come to mind. One must be “Mel-O-Toons,” based on the ingenious idea of combining old children’s records and drawings to match the narration (with really limited animation cycles tossed in).

Most of the Mel-O-Toons weren’t all that visually interesting. Take, for example, these frames from “David and Goliath.”



We’ve written a bit of history of the Mel-O-Toons here before. Let’s add a few other items. The first mention I can find of them in Variety is in connection with another series which I don’t believe ever got off the ground. This is from July 17, 1959.

[Missing Words] To Burgess Tales
New World Productions has secured rights from Thornton Burgess for production of several series based on his works. Series will consist of 104 six-minute combined live action and animated cartoon films under the title of "Story[missing words]". [B]urgess, now 86 and still actively writing, has turned out some 16,000 stories dealing with Peter Cottontail, Paddy the Beaver, Roddy the Fox and other children's stories. Company has signed John Rust to adapt and narrate each full-color subject. Animation will be handled by Art Scott, who is now doing the company's "Mel-O-Toons" series of 62 six-minute animated cartoons based on childrens' records.

As the cartoons could be used as drop-ins for children’s show, they wouldn’t necessarily be in a station’s TV listings in the paper. They appeared on a station in Philadelphia as early as December 1959; one channel in New York still broadcast them in 1976. Evidently UAA wanted an extra push to get stations to buy them. Variety of November 9, 1960 explains what the company did.

UAA Melo-O-Toon Gets Toledo Test
In order to hypo its sales ammunition, United Artists Associated took the unusual path of buying time in test market of Toledo, to sample its recently acquired Mel-O-Toons cartoons. In mailings and on-the-air, it asked viewers to write-in. commenting on the two Mel-O-Toons shown Oct. 27, on WSPD-TV. The viewer response numbered over 400, virtually all commenting favorable on the two cartoons shown, "Rumplestiltskin" and "Waltz of the Flowers." Many replies came from kids in the 12 to 14 age bracket. Many parents compared the Mel-O-Toons favorable to what they called the usual violence in kiddie programming. Mel-O-Toons episodes are based on best-selling kiddie records. Viewer response will be used by UAA for its sales pitches throughout the country

This full-page Mel-O-Toons trade ad appeared in May 1960. “Top animation”?!



Back to “David and Goliath,” the children’s record was originally released by Capitol by October 1952, narrated by Claude Rains with music by Nat Shilkret (neither receive credit on the cartoon). It came out at the same time as other 45s and 78s featuring Woody Woodpecker and various Warner Bros. characters that were far more popular on TV than the Mel-O-Toons ever were.

Calling All Cuckoos

A teeny Woody Woodpecker grabs a mallet from clock maker Herr Spring and bashes him with it in “Calling All Cuckoos” (1956). Woody multiplies during the gag.



Storyman Homer Brightman seemed to think witless dialogue and clobberings for the sake of clobberings were uproariously funny because that’s all that’s in this cartoon. And Woody continued to go down hill in Unfunny Land for the next 15 years.

Animation credits went to Bob Bentley and Les Kline.

Watch the Birdie

Big game hunter Flip the Frog tries to shoot a lion like he’s shooting a photograph in “Africa Squeaks” (1931). Flip pulls out a cross-eyed bird and tells the lion to “watch the birdie.” Then he fires. The screen is filled with feathers.



When everything clears, we see the bird has been blown to bits. The Ubiquitous Iwerks Radiating Lines™ show Flip’s emotion.



The credits say the cartoon was drawn by Ub Iwerks.

CBS is Here

Radio in the middle part of the 1920s wasn’t much like the Golden Days of Radio that we think of today. There was no Jack Benny, no Ma Perkins, no Lux Radio Theatre. Radio stations broadcast shows with local musicians and singers, sports scores and news headlines. Even the correct time was a part of the broadcast day (and advertised in radio listings of newspapers). Some stations hooked up together to jointly broadcast special programming. Newspaper stories talk about the “WEAF network,” an occasional, ad-hoc thing. Eventually, that morphed into the creation of NBC in 1926, which was able to attract big-name talent by selling programme sponsorships.

A second network was created out of spite. NBC wouldn’t make a deal with a talent broker named Arthur Judson, so he helped set up United Independent Broadcasters which went on the air on September 18, 1927. By then it had assumed a new name thanks to a deal which sold the network’s operating rights to Columbia Phonograph.

Interestingly, the radio section of the Brooklyn Eagle that day devoted more space to an even bigger hook-up than the 16-station CBS debut. It was a six-hour broadcast from the Radio Industries Banquet to take place three days later, aired on NBC, CBS and the Atlantic Broadcasting Corporation (WABC New York), 80 stations in all, and included Mack and Moran, the Happiness Boys and Van and Schenk among the acts. You can see the Eagle’s preview story to the right.

So, how did the CBS debut go? Lewis Paper’s book Empire details dead air on some of the affiliates. The programming was heard loud and clear in New York, though the Eagle’s radio editor, the pseudononymous “L-S-N-R,” gave his review in the next day’s paper.

DEEMS TAYLOR acted as "interpreter" for his own opera, "The King's Henchman," that was the big feature of the opening program of the Columbia Broadcasting Company, which started business last evening, scattering melody and other things, through the ether, from two dozen stations, located between New York and St. Louis.
Mr. Taylor, we want to say right at the start, is one of the very best announcers—beg pardon—interpreters we have ever heard. Although he is the composer of a really great musical work, he "interpreted" or described it, and outlined, its plot, in the most delightful, human, unhighbrow manner imaginable.
It sounded almost as if a Bay Shore commuter, who had been to the Metropolitan Opera House, was describing the opera to a commuter from Patchogue, which is meant to convey the news that Mr. Taylor used every-day words, and an offhand, every-day manner, Mr. Taylor was introduced to the invisible audience by Maj. Andrew J. White, who acted as a sort of master of ceremonies. It was Mr. Taylor's aerial debut, and we congratulate him, not only on the successful broadcasting of his opera, but on his manner of letting us know what it was all about.
The debut into the ether of the Columbia Broadcasting Company was marred by too much advertising. Commercialism stuck out at every possible point. We have become hardened to the ad idea in radio, but it remained for this new concern to make it genuinely annoying.
We were reminded over and over again by a man with a very ponderous, slow delivery, of the identity of the owners of the company, the concern that was responsible for the hiring of the "facilities," and all the rest of it, so that it became very tiresome.
This was especially the case after Mr. Taylor's opera was over, and the "facilities" were taken over by a concern that manufactures various medicines and beverages. The musicians and singers were given trade names, and the frequent tiresome repetition of the names of the commodities took a great deal of the pleasure from listening to some really good music and singing.
The broadcasting itself, done through the new equipment set up at Kearney, N. J., by Station W O R, was very fine, indeed, and when the man with the slow, ponderous delivery was silent, everything was very much O. K.
The principal roles in "The King's Henchman" were admirably sung by Marie Sundelius, Giovanni Martino and Rafael Diaz, and the orchestral and choral effects were splendid.
A young woman who sang "Carry Me Back to Ole Virginny" between the ads displayed a very fine voice and a remarkably clear enunciation, with an especially fine regard for the much-abused letter "r."
An announcement of special interest to the S. F. D. (Soda Fountain Dispensers) fraternity was made between songs, and we have no doubt all the sundae specialists in the U. S. A. will soon be as busy with their fountain pens as with their fountain faucets, grinding out literary effusions, so as to be in line for cash prizes, and the honor of being crowned "K.D." (King Dispenser).
One of the announcements made by the man with the slow-motion delivery, concerned the singings of the "Street Song" from" "Naughty Marietta." He took elaborate pains to preface the name of the song with the ad stuff, but forgot all about the late Victor Herbert, the composer of the song.

Seas of red ink became oceans of red ink. Columbia Phonograph pulled out. Finally, a new company president was elected in September 1928. He was 26-year-old Bill Paley. The affiliate contract was revamped and Paley started signing up more stations, jettisoning WOR along the way. The network prepared for a relaunch broadcast. Here’s a feature column by the National Enterprise Association. It may seem odd the science editor would be doing a radio story but during much of the ‘20s, the radio pages of newspapers were filled with technical data about tubes, transmitters and propagation for the hobbyist. As networks grew, the focus of radio stories changed to programming. This appeared in papers on January 5, 1929.



Columbia Broadcasting System Has Speedy Growth
By ISRAEL KLEIN
Science Editor, NEA Service
NEW YORK, Jan. 5.—The high spot appearing in the spread of the Columbia Broadcasting System to the Pacific and the gulf coasts, may in the minds of some, be the prolonged “gala” program that has been prepared for this event on the night of Jan. 8.
But the real high spot, to those back of the scenes who have watched the progress of this national network, is the remarkable rise of this system from a chain of 15 stations only 15 months ago to a network of nearly 50 today. This and the National Broadcasting Company with its various divisions give the entire United States and adjoining territories “full coverage” of programs such as only New York can provide.
The extent to which the Columbia system has expanded is revealed in a booklet issued to prospective radio advertisers. Here it is noted that from a small chain confined to 15 stations in the northeast, furnishing only 10 hours of entertainment a week, the system has grown to one of 49 stations spread over the whole United States, broadcasting more than 21 hours a week and promising further expansion in this direction.
Buys WABC as “Key”
At the same time this expanded network is inaugurated, it is announced that the Columbia System has bought station WABC in New York and is preparing to build a new highpower transmitter from which the entire new network will operate. WABC at present is part time “key” station for the Columbia System, sharing its programs with WOR. After September, 1929, all programs will emanate from the new WABC studios and high power transmitters.
In addition the United Independent Broadcasters, which owns and operates the Columbia System, loses its identity in the change of official name to the Columbia Broadcasting System. William S. Paley, president of the United Independent Broadcasters, remains in the same capacity as head of the new Columbia System, while Major J. Andrew White, who has been managing the affairs of the old Columbia System as its president, becomes managing director of the new outfit.
The old network of the Columbia System remains the “basic network” of the new group. This consists of 27 stations in practically the same area which the original system covered. Here, according to the company's announcement, there is a population of 60,000,000, including a potential radio audience of 27,500,000.
Three new southern groups are to be added to this basic network. The first group Includes the stations in Richmond, Norfolk and Asheville. Serving a 5,000,000 population In the states of Virginia, North and South Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky and part of West Virginia.
The second southern group takes in Nashville, Chattanooga, Birmingham and Memphis, including more than 7,000,000 inhabitants in this territory.
The third croup in the south is rather southwestern, as the states of Arkansas, Oklahoma and Texas are represented with stations in Hot Springs, Oklahoma City, Wichita, Dallas, Fort Worth and San Antonio. Here is another 7,000,000 population to be covered by this addition.
The fourth, group to be added to the Columbia System is that of the far west and the Pacific coast. The stations in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle and Spokane have already been linked to the eastern network for an hour every Sunday evening for the last three months. Now Denver and Salt Lake City are added and all, will get the full time benefits planned, by the new administration.
The far west area covers a potential audience of about 7,000,000 persons, say the Columbia System officials.
In addition to these groups there are the supplementary stations in Minneapolis-St. Paul, Milwaukee and New Orleans which will take the programs of the new system. These broadcasters, it is estimated, have a combined potential radio audience of about 4,000.000 listeners.
The effectiveness with which the new Columbia Broadcasting System will cover the country is brought out in the following statement in the booklet issued by it: “In the territory blanketed by these stations. 87 per cent of the population of the United States is concentrated. Ninety per cent of all manufactured products and 79 per cent of all farm products are produced in this territory. Ninety-one per cent of the country's purchasing power is located here.”

“L-S-N-R” didn’t critique the January 8th gala—he did review a talk about hats on WNYC—but Paley’s autobiography reveals he went on the air and announced his little white lie about affiliates viz-a-viz NBC. Both were now nationwide networks, and both beefed up their programming to usher in the Golden Days of Radio.

Drag-a-Long Droopy Backgrounds

By 1954, Tex Avery’s long-time background artist, Johnny Johnsen was getting credited in MGM cartoons. Johnsen was called on, both at Warners and MGM, to come up with western motifs. Here are some of his paintings in the great cartoon “Drag-a-Long Droopy.” The best painting is a panorama of the Bare Butte Ranch, which I can’t snip together because part of it is on an overlay panned at a different rate than the background itself. You can see a piece of it below.



Oh, for a BlueRay DVD of this cartoon so everyone can get a better view of the details.

Johnsen painted from layouts by Ed Benedict.