Can You Come Over and Insult People?

If you’re going to be insulted by anyone, you couldn’t find too many people better than Groucho Marx.

"The One, The Only" did it to ordinary people on camera and off. No one seems to have been offended; I suspected they treated it as a badge of honour.

Here’s a wire service story that showed up in papers around May 21, 1961. That’s the year Groucho gave up You Bet Your Life, a show which didn’t even make it on the air on the east coast on February 2nd because someone forgot to deliver a tape to NBC in New York (the network substituted a documentary on the old Third Avenue El. It’s a shame Groucho didn’t narrate that).

Nowhere does the story mention Groucho’s new kinda-quiz show, Tell It To Groucho, debuting in the fall. Considering its fate, that’s all just as well.

The writer was quite correct about Groucho pretending to be baffled about the end of his quiz show. He told columnist Hal Humphrey the same year that he went with a new show because of residuals, adding that sponsors weren’t lining up to buy time on reruns of You Bet Your Life because the original show was still on the air. No sponsors means no stations, and no stations means no residuals.

Anyway, on to the insults! The drawing accompanied the Pittsburgh Press’ version of the story.

Groucho, the Delight of Hostesses
By RICK DU BROW
UP-International
HOLLYWOOD—Hollywood's most-sought-after guest for parties has no muscles, no sex appeal and rarely smiles. He's Groucho Marx.
Hostesses battle for him, because his wit makes their affairs the talk of the town the next day.
At a recent shindig, a bright-eyed young lady cornered him and told him she wanted her future husband to be able to swim, dance, ski, sing a little and ride horseback.
"You don't want a husband," barked Groucho. "You want a five-man relay team."
At another party, the host was speaking glowingly about famous persons who have lived to be 80 years old or more.
"Anyone can get old," said Groucho. "All you have to do is live long enough."

On one occasion, a clergyman told the comedian: "Mr. Marx, I want to thank you for all the enjoyment you've given the world."
"And I," replied Groucho, "want to thank you for all the enjoyment you've taken out of it."
The clergyman erupted into laughter and asked Groucho's permission to use the story in a sermon.
Rumor has it that Groucho will replace Jack Paar one night a week next fall. Most of Groucho's fans probably aren't aware yet that after 14 years this Marx brother is not coming back with his famous "You Bet Your Life" show next season.
In his own inimitable style, however, Groucho denies he will take over any part of the Paar show.
"Paar is a clever fellow. Everybody has been on the Paar show—Kennedy, Nixon, Billy Graham. Even Paar has been on the Paar show. Come to think of it, Khrushchev never made the Paar show, and that's the acid test. Would you want a leader who hasn't been on the Paar show?"
The eye-rolling humorist appears not to be too upset over the demise of his quiz show, although he is somewhat baffled by it or pretends to be.
"I don't know if the sponsors dropped it, or the agencies or the network. I don't pay attention to those things. But I have no complaint. The show lasted 14 years, 11 of them on TV, and I've made a lot of money and gone through two wives with this show –and four or five NBC presidents."
The comedian, once a top movie star, never took any guff from his sponsors on television.
When he was being feted at a cocktail party for his book, "Groucho and Me," a sponsor representative suggested that he put down his drink before posing for a picture.
"Ridiculous," said Groucho. "People watch TV with drinks in their hands. In fact, people watch television drunk. If they weren't, they wouldn't watch it."
Another time, Groucho was called in because NBC-TV had received some letters about the acid-like way he made some comments.
During the discussion, Groucho asked: "How many letters did we get?"
"Twenty-three," came the reply.
"How many people watch the show?" he asked an aide.
"More than 20,000,000." Without saying another word, Groucho got up and walked out. The network never complained again.
Groucho, in deadpan, mercilessly kids his old friend, restaurateur Mike Romanoff, when he eats at his famous dining place.
"Here comes that phony Russian prince," he says in a stage whisper so that all diners can hear.
Once, Romanoff came over with a smile to greet him and said:
"I just had my dinner."
"I wish you had mine," snapped Groucho.
Groucho is considered the fastest man in town with a line. Once, in a discussion about alimony, he defined it as "feeding oats to a dead horse."
When the conversation turned to gracious living, he offered this definition: "Having an icebox in the tropics."
Groucho is unfailingly polite to children, but cuts down offensive parents. In Romanoff's not long ago, he autographed a menu for a little girl, only to have her father follow her over.
The father offered his hand and said in an irritating manner:
"It's meant a lot to me to shake hands with you."
"It's meant a lot to me too," snapped Groucho. "Probably a skin disease."
Groucho is wealthy, likes to read, play golf and write letters. Of the termination of his show, he says:
"Really, I feel the way Man o’ War must have felt when he was retired. Except, in his case, he was going to stud and I'm just going to seed," says Groucho.

Felix Dogs It

Dancing butterfly. Dancing bear. Dancing flowers. Not exactly something you’d find in a Felix the Cat cartoon, but that’s what we get in April Maze. It was reported by Film Daily on September 21, 1930 that it was one of nine Felix synchronised to music by Copley Pictures. Basically, the Felix shorts were doing what other sound cartoon series were doing, and poorly at that. There was no singing or dialogue; just sound and vocal effects.

Felix isn’t only saddled with flora and fauna taking his screen time, he’s stuck with yowling kids. They even pray—twice! It’s far from the drunken Felix in Woos Whoopee. However, there are a few elements of the old Felix cartoons, such as the living wieners.

Felix and the kids go on a picnic. Among the food—wieners. I suppose they are supposed to be hot dogs, even though there are no buns, as the wieners bark like dogs.



When it starts to rain, Felix and his kids run away. The wieners follow behind, leaping.



Cut to the next scene where the wieners are rolling in a circle like a wheel. Because there’s a storm, the director (Otto Messmer?) switches from a positive to a negative of the shot off and on during the scene.



Cut to the wieners acting like horses, pulling Felix and the kids in the picnic basket along the ground.



Copley Pictures is still in the Film Daily Year Book in 1934 as the producer and distributor of Felix, but it stopped making new cartoons some time in 1930.

Yes, He's Crooked

The puns are almost non-stop in The Shooting of Dan McGoo (1945). “You know,” says Droopy to the viewers. “I think the dealer is crooked.” The camera pans to the left.



Metro was extremely high on this cartoon. It took out a full page ad in all kinds of trade publications.

The Showmen’s Trade Review of April 21, 1945 endorsed the cartoon:

The Shooting of Dan McGoo (Kids Itself)
MGM—No. W-545 8 mins.
The laughs in this Technicolor travesty on the Robert W. Service poem "The Shooting of Dan McGrew," starts early in the nine satisfying minutes for the subject kids itself, and that takes courage, even in cartoons. Its satiric vein continues with a hot number rendered by Red Hot Riding Hood as “the lady known as Lou,” in the Malemute Saloon in Coldornell, Alaska, in which the voice of Imogene Lynn is a mellifluent contribution. It is worth booking whether quality shorts are appreciated.

Incidentally, the title of this cartoon wasn’t original with MGM. The July-August 1931 edition of Radio Digest reveals the NBC Red network broadcast a show of detective send-ups by comedians “Snoop and Peep.” One was entitled “The Shooting of Dan McGoo” (it aired in southern California on KECA Los Angeles).

Bill Thompson is in the Midwest on military duty, so other than the first line, someone else is voicing Droopy. Frank Graham is the narrator and Sara Berner is Lou.

Moving to the Stars Address

No story gripped the radio columns—and some news columns, too—at the end of 1948 than CBS buying Jack Benny’s company Amusement Enterprises, meaning the Jack Benny show would move from NBC at the start of 1949.

CBS hyped and hyped the change; Benny even made fun of the hype on his first CBS broadcast. So did other CBS comedians, judging by the radio column of the Minneapolis Star Tribune of January 4, 1949. You probably won’t read a more thorough summary of what happened on the air the night of Benny’s debut, because the paper put two reporters on the story (kind of).

Frankly, this is far from one of my favourite Benny shows. The Jack/Mary song is nothing more than an over-long network promo—there’s even a reprise, as if to fill time because the show didn’t get enough laughs—with nothing funny in it.

In explanation, NBC replaced Benny with Horace Heidt’s Youth Opportunity musical talent show. And I strongly suspect the NBC staff announcer on duty that night was briefed on what exactly was going to take place; there’s no way he would have been unexpectedly thrown like that on a major network, especially because the extra banter would take up time and that would have to be accounted for on the network log.

AFTER LAST NIGHT
Joneses Keep Up With Nets
By WILL JONES
For awhile Sunday night I was afraid I'd have to listen to two radios at once. I felt some obligation to chronicle the new Sunday night sound of a CBS with Jack Benny, an NBC without Jack Benny.
Mrs. Jones came to the rescue. She offered to listen to one network for me, and to take careful notes. With the rescue came a crisis. We had to flip a coin. Mrs. Jones won CBS and the kitchen. I got NBC and the living room.
Amos ‘n’ Unday
First, however, we both listened to Spike Jones on CBS. Before the Jones show, a CBS announcer reminded everybody to listen to Jack Benny in a half-hour.
Jones rather set the tempo for CBS. The City Slickers played "Sunday." It was all about CBS programs. One line ended with Amos 'n' Unday, to rhyme with Sunday, which sort of gives you an idea. The song was interrupted by a squeaky violin exercise.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Benny,” said Jones, “but you don't go on for a half-hour yet.” Folks laughed, Jones, then paraphrased some Longfellow quote about Sunday.
Right off, CBS showed how wonderfully fully big hearted and confident it was about the whole Sunday night affair by allowing mention of another network, by letters. Buddy Clark, a guest, referred to “my own program on—you’ll pardon the expression—NBC.”
The first commercial had a Coke-on-Sunday theme. Joan Davis, another guest, was ready with a gag about Benny. With Benny, she said, it's “Give that man $4,000,000 to change networks!” With her, she said, it's “Get the net and give ‘er the works!” Folks laughed.
Jones came up with a picture of how it must be in Benny's dressing room:
“I can see it now . . . Jack—surrounded by all his Jack.” Folks laughed.
Those gags, it turned out, were of about the same tenor and caliber of all that were to follow. Jones and Miss Davis got around to Benny-the-pinchpenny and Benney's-toupee-gags, too, of course.
Chuckle in Kitchen
At this point I shuffled off to the living room and NBC. Before Horace Heidt's talent show moved into the old Benny time spot, an announcer warned:
“Don't miss a second of the next 30 minutes.”
Somebody also said, a bit desperately: “The youth of America is in the No. 1 spot of America!” This referred, of course, to the choice NBC time vacated by Benny.
I listened to a saxophonist, a girl duet and was in the midst of an accordionist playing “Quicksilver.” From the kitchen I heard a familiar noise: Benny's Maxwell starting.
I heard Mrs. Jones chuckling. (She told me what the gag was later. Mary Livingstone: “I hope you don't have the usual trouble with your Maxwell.” Benny: “Don't worry. Yesterday I had the motor tuned up.” Sound of Maxwell motor grinding. Mary: “Who tuned it? Spike Jones?”)
Heidt next offered a banjoist, a tonguing trumpeter. The banjoist won. By way of a guest, Heidt hauled out Judge Robert T. Patterson, former secretary of war. Patterson said he trusted “every worthy American citizen will support” Heidt and his talent show because of what they are doing for the youth of America.
Then Heidt urged everybody to have plenty of Philip Morrises around the house “whether you smoke or not, because Philip Morris is helping the youth of America.” It'll be interesting to see just how strongly these noble appeals can compete with Benny’s Maxwell.
Cues, More Cues
The same half-hour on CBS, reports Mrs. Jones, was preceded by a breathless network cue:
“This is CBS-Where-Jack-Benny-Starts-in-30-Seconds, the Columbia Broadcasting System.”
Benny was found, supposedly two hours before his program, heading for the CBS studios to report for work.
Several gags later—
Mary: “Why should you worry—
Benny: “I'm not really nervous.”
Mary: “Stop pacing up and down on the running board—you must have $1,000,000 down in your vault.”
Benny: “I know, but I don't want to break up the serial numbers.”
Mary spotted a billboard on the way to the studio:
Jack Benny has switched to CBS.
Phil Harris has switched to Sterno.

Harris, impressed with the occasion, announced his band would play something special—“That's What I Like About the South.”
Dennis Day came in wearing hip boots, without pants.
His explanation: “I lost them by force of habit. As I passed NBC I walked by, but my pants walked in.”
Jack and Mary sang a special number to the tune of “I'd Like to Get You on a Slow Boat to China.” Their version: “We'd Like to Get You to Stay Tuned on Sunday.”
Amos 'n Andy appeared briefly on the Benny show. On their own program, which followed, however, they wisely avoided the stock Benny gags. Their only reference to the new setup, said Mrs. Jones, was when Andy closed the program: “See you next Sunday, right after the Jack Benny show.”
Network Loyalty
Phil Harris must have left the Benny show early to run down the street in time to compete with Amos 'n' Andy at 6:30 p.m. His voice, at least, was on hand to interrupt an announcer who started to say, “This is NBC.” The fellow got to say "This is—,” and then Harris cut in with:
“Hold it, Bub! Don't bong them chimes until folks know that Alice and me is comin' on next—over N! B! C!”
This display of divided network loyalty was touching, especially in the light of Harris plans to move his own show over to CBS, too. The Phil Harris-Alice Faye script was free of references to networks or personalities until the sign-off. Then Alice said, “Fred Allen follows us on the air now!” Harris then saw fit to “welcome Horace Heidt to our network,” although Heidt has been on “our network” Sunday nights for some months now.
The NBC man with the network cue said, “This is—,” and was interrupted again. Mrs. Nussbaum this time. “Excuse it, pal,” she said. “. . . the Fred Allen show is arriving early over N! B! C!”
“For 12 years Edgar Bergen has been on at this time,” mused Allen. “Thousands of people tune in to hear Edgar Bergen, and instead of Bergen they hear me. And instead of his dummy—”
Portland: “They hear me!”
Allen made some feeble references to Benny, capital gains deals and Horace Heidt's program, but pointed no gags at them.
While this was going on, Sam Spade was getting into the act on CBS. The program opened with Sam saying to his secretary, “What have you been doing?” “Oh,” said the girl, “listening to Jack Benny.” “Jack Benny,” said Sam. “What's his last name?”

Making Looney Tunes

Ray Katz’ cartoon career began fairly easily. His brother-in-law gave him a job.

His brother-in-law was Leon Schlesinger.

He was personel manager of Schlesinger’s studio when it opened in 1933; he did some of the originally hiring, according to animator Don Williams. Later he was installed as sub-contractor in charge of the Bob Clampett unit making Looney Tunes; the Screen Cartoonists Guild treated his employees as a separate bargaining unit, according to Variety.

There’s no indication Katz knew anything about drawing (Chuck Jones didn’t speak well of him but Jones doesn’t seem to have thought highly of anyone in management) but it would appear he grasped the basics of how his Looney Tunes were made. Here he is giving an outline to the Decatur Herald of November 12, 1933.

When Schlesinger sold the studio to Warner Bros. in July 1944, Katz stayed as production manager under Eddie Selzer. But not for long. He went on medical leave in February 1945 and then quit the studio because of illness two months later. How sick he really was is open to conjecture. In July, he was hired to be the general manager of the Screen Gems studio and stayed until Columbia closed it over a year later. He went into commercial property building after that and died in Los Angeles on February 16, 1963.

How Animated Cartoons Are Made Is Told
Former Mattoon Man Now Hollywood Manager, Describes Method of Producing Movies.
By Staff Correspondent
Mattoon—Ray Katz, formerly of Mattoon and now of Hollywood where he is business manager for the Pacific Title and Art studios and Leon Schlesinger Productions, entertained a small group of listeners here a few days ago by telling how animated cartoons are made. The Schlesinger Co. produces all "Looney Tunes" and "Merrie Melodies" which rank, as animated cartoons, second to Walt Disney's brain child, "Mickey Mouse".
"The first, and one of the most important things," said Mr. Katz, "is the writing. We employ a staff of a dozen writers who do nothing but think up ideas for cartoons and plot stories. They have found that they work better in a group; when they work by themselves they easily go stale.
Hold Conferences.
"They have 'conferences' in which everyone seems to have a good time, laughing and joking; but in reality, they are hard at work, digging out ideas. The qualifications of a 'story-man' are uncertain; one of the best we have had never did a lick of writing before he came to our studios; in fact, he hadn't done any sort of work.

"The writing isn't like fiction writing. There can be very little dialog; the stress must be on action, and very simple action at that, particularly the little ridiculous things we catch ourselves doing and see others doing all the time.
"After the story is doped out, the director must go over it. Changes must be made to suit him. When this is done he takes the script to the 'lay-out' men, who design and sketch the background against which the cartoon is to be thrown, be it barnyard, desert island or cabaret. This, too, the director closely supervises. The director is the hardest working man in the outfit. For when this is done he takes his script and 'layout' to the 'animators'.
What Animator Does.
"Now an animator has to be a very accomplished person; being a cartoonist is not enough. He must also be something of a writer and an actor. If he can write, he knows situations that will be impressive and if he can act he knows the value of facial expression and posturing. When the director comes to him he will tell the story, stressing the desired action. The director may have to get down on his hands and knees and bark like a dog to get his idea across; things like that are not unusual.
"The animator must then go through the same actions himself to satisfy the director.
"After this the animator draws the first cartoons that are made. what we call the 'key pictures'. These are portrayals of the chief character in the most important situations in the story. These are inspected by the director, and are then turned over to more cartoonists whom we call the 'in-betweeners'. They fill in the script with all additional characters and situations.
Flashed on Screen.
"When this is done, the cartoons, and there may be between 6,000 and 10,000 of them, and the 'layouts' are flashed on a screen to see how they film. The bad ones are culled out and done over. When they are all ready they are taken to the inking and printing department. The originals were done on paper with pencil. In this department, the drawings are placed on wooden blocks with sheets of celluloid placed over them. The pictures are traced on to the celluloid in ink. This takes a long time. When it is done the celluloid plates are taken to the printer for toning, shading with black, white, or gray. This is done with both cartoons and backgrounds.

"When these plates are finished the first filming begins. The cartoons are superimposed, one by one, on the background scenes, and pictures are taken. A regular camera is used, not the kind that you crank, such as they use in the movies. To "take" between 600 and 700 feet of film, the usual length of the animated cartoon, requires two weeks, a thing that could be done in a few hours with a movie camera. These pictures are composite prints, and are fitted together to make the entire cartoon.
Begin Recording.
"When all this is done, and not before, the recording process begins. As I said before, we try to use as little dialog as possible; but we do insist on our musical scores being elaborate. Some of the highest paid talent we have with our companies is among the musicians. The recording is very like phonograph recording, synchronized to the movement of the cartoon."
When all this has been done, Mr. Katz explained, the business of distribution begins. He estimates that his company's cartoons are shown in at least 5,000 theaters throughout the world. One of the most surprising things about the distribution end of the business is that the animated cartoon is even more popular in England and France than it is in the United States.
American "Art."
A few years ago an eminent French critic startled many people in this country with a magazine article in which he stated that the animated cartoon was the most distinctive contribution America had made to dramatic art. Mr. Katz explained this by saying that the subjects of animated cartoons were always so simple that they could be truly appreciated in another country, "so long as the people are human."
Mr. Katz was a resident of Mattoon for many years, working with his father at the Katz Clothing Co. His brother. Elmore Katz started the "K" theater in Mattoon. Leon Schlesinger, president of the company for which Mr. Katz works, married a sister, Miss Bernice Katz.

The Patient Chair

A dental chair is a living being in the Flip the Frog cartoon Laughing Gas (1930), and it’s none too patient with a patient.

It politely invites the walrus to sit down and when the frightened patient refuses, it has to reach off screen, grab him and plunk him down. See how the chair and the hygienist duplicate their actions.



A better “living object” gag comes after the successful tooth surgery when Flip’s cash register demands to be paid.

The cartoon claims it’s “drawn by” Ub Iwerks.

My Masterpiece

Wile E. Coyote thinks his “masterpiece” can blow up Bugs Bunny. It’s a flying saucer. As usual, Wile E. outsmarts himself by having various selections of animals to choose from.



Perspective animation.



Crafty Bugs uses a disguise. I like how he briefly takes it off when the saucer isn’t looking, then puts it back on when the saucer turns to face him.



Bugs is a few steps ahead of the “Super Genius.”



More perspective animation.



Jones waits 24 frames after the saucer disappears into Wile’s cave before showing the explosion.



End of gag.



This is from Operation: Rabbit, released at the end of 1951.

More Tex

The country wolf sums up the reaction of Tex Avery fans when the world was told there would finally (!) be a Blu-ray release of some of his MGM cartoons. Animation fans couldn’t order it fast enough.

Now, Jerry Beck has revealed the Warner Archive people will be releasing Volume 2. When? Well, with the pandemic situation the way it is, the time line is a bit in doubt but it’ll be before the end of the year.

The revelation was made yesterday on the Stu’s Show podcast.

A few other things mentioned by the inimitable Mr. Beck:

● There were supposed to be 20 cartoons on Volume 1, but one was left off because of some temporary skittishness somewhere within Warners (in offices of entertainment companies, skittishness is practically an incurable pandemic). However, this cartoon will be included in Volume 2. Jerry left enough clues that the cartoon in question is Happy Go Nutty (1944). The cartoon contains an explosion/blackface gag cut out of other video and television releases.



I’m very pleased Warner Archive is releasing the cartoons uncensored. You’ll get to see a fully-restored version of the gag above along with some very funny stuff (including Avery’s end-title card turnabout).

● There will be more than 20 cartoons on this Blu-ray. Jerry didn’t say which ones but, in his opinion, this release will be better than the last one. There are so many great Avery cartoons, I’ll be happy with whatever is put on disc. I am looking forward to a restored Magical Maestro, though it’s best seen at a theatre because of Avery’s use of corners of the frame. It would be a treat if the original ending of Lucky Ducky somehow could make it onto the release. And Blitz Wolf, Avery’s first MGM release, is a huge jump from much of what he did at Warners, and it will have its war-time gags restored (some anti-Japanese animation was either changed or deleted). And there are so many more.
● The door is open to possible bonus materials. The impression I get from Jerry is Warners is like any huge conglomerate. It owns all kinds of things but they’re all separate and apart. So just like profits from Disneyland aren’t used to shore up some ABC streaming channel, Warner Archive can’t just put its hand out and get cash from Warner Home Video or any of its other entertainment companies. It’s a small operation that has to make it on its own, or at least well enough so the corporate hierarchy doesn’t dissolve it. This is a windy way of saying Warner Archive doesn’t have the money for frills. Assembling a little professional-looking video, even limiting it to stills and voice-over narration, takes time and some expense. Perhaps Jerry and Mark Kausler or Keith Scott could be induced to do commentary tracks. Even .png files of the MGM cartoon synopses from the Library of Congress would be welcome. Keith, incidentally, is responsible for what really is the bonus material for the first Blu-ray, though it’s not on the Blu-ray itself. He wrote about the voice actors on Volume 1 at the Cartoon Research website.
● Eventually, all of Tex’s MGM cartoons will be released.
● Other Warner Archive projects are taking a proverbial back seat (in the Car of Tomorrow?) for now. Sorry, fans of the churn-‘em-out, 1950s Famous Popeyes, it means you’ll have to wait because...sing along now:
I’m full of bravery
But let’s see Tex Avery
Says Popeye the Sailor Man
(Toot Toot. Eyebrow goes up and down)

By the way, if you want to hear animator Bob Jaques and Thad Komorowski examine each of the cartoons on Volume 1, tune into their podcast here.

Again, my thanks and appreciation to Jerry Beck for making these sets finally a reality.

Totie

Totie Fields was loud. Totie Fields was funny.

Oh, Totie Fields was plump, too.

That was part of her schtick, as she barrelled through her act (cleaned up for television, I imagine) on Merv or Sullivan or gagged on Hollywood Squares. There was no self-pity. Freight trains don’t have pity. That was the kind of force she was on stage.

She, Phyllis Diller and Joan Rivers may have been the best-known female stand-up comediennes of their day. By “their day,” I mean the 1960s (it was a day when the term “comedienne” was still in vogue) though Fields was singing and joking professionally on stage in Hartford, Connecticut as far back as 1949.

Totie Fields Wants Job
By HAROLD STERN
NEW YORK, March 19—Totie Fields, the queen-sized comedienne who guests on this Sunday's Ed Sullivan Show, would like nothing better than a TV series, preferably from New York.
“But I wouldn't want to star,” she said. “I want to be a second banana. It's just a matter of time. It must happen. There are so few comediennes around, it has to be inevitable.
“It isn't a matter of work,” she continued. “I'm booked through next October in clubs. Finding things to do isn't hard, but finding the right things can sometimes be a problem.”
One thing Totie Fields doesn't believe in for herself is topical humor.
“I dig all kinds of comedy,” she explained, “but I'd rather do basic material. I'd hate to have to depend on today's paper and come up with something strong only to find out that the audience hasn't read today's paper. I think comedy has to be association. Something that has happened or is likely to happen to people in the audience.
She's the Butt
“I do material about myself, not about other people. I made that mistake only once and luckily someone pointed out what was wrong. Even though the audience laughed, they didn't enjoy it. Now I make sure that the premise of my material is honest. People believe me. And no one in the audience can get offended at what I do because I'm the butt. This helps me maintain a warm relationship with my audience.”
Totie, who's been happily married for 14 years, believes that whatever she may look like, a woman entertainer must remain feminine.
“There are too many women who try to be men when they do comedy. A comedienne can't come on with a line like: ‘These are the jokes.’ You can't be hostile and expect your audience to like you. And you can do jokes and still be a woman.”
She demonstrated: “I'm the Elizabeth Taylor of the fat set. I don't worry about my weight (about 170). I don't have to. Everyone else does. But I have trouble holding my weight. I'm a light eater. Every time it gets light out, I eat. . . etc.”
Though she may eventually get her own series, she will be seen exclusively on the Ed Sullivan Show this year. She has two additional appearances booked with Ed after this Sunday.
Completely Relaxed
She was schooled in the Borscht Circuit and feels this sort of background is invaluable to anyone trying to be an entertainer. She seems completely relaxes about her career and apparently places it second in importance to her home and family.
She admits she would not like to live and work in Hollywood.
"But it isn’t all bad,” she said. “I had one funny experience the last time I was out there. George (her husband, George Johnston) and I like to watch television in bed and we were watching a one a.m. movie and I was eating a tremendous turkey leg and having a fine time.
“Then came the commercial break and the announcer said: ‘And stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen, we've got a real treat for you. A little later tonight we're going to have a visit from one of the funniest people in the world.’
“I couldn't wait to hear who it was and just as I turned to George and said: ‘I wonder . . .’ the announcer said: ‘None other than Totie Fields.’
“I screamed, threw the turkey leg in the air, jumped up, got dressed and, believe it or not, we made it to the studio. By the time the film had its next break, there I was sitting with the announcer, cigarette dangling rakishly from my fingers and looking casual.
“But when he asked me, ‘And did you come here directly from work?’ I couldn't resist answering: ‘No, directly from bed.’”

Totie got serious in a lovely feature article in the September 17, 1974 edition of The Honolulu Advertiser. The musing about Totie’s legs ending in wheels is ironic, considering what the future held in store.

Totie Fields
Jewish mother with a gift of laughter
By COBEY BLACK
Advertiser Columnist
A well-endowed blonde, her curves held in check by no more than a string, strolled onto Kahala Beach.
“Let's beat her up,” yelled a dumpy matron in a dressmaker bathing suit. “Let's get a gun and shoot her.” The matron flounced from the surf, shaking a dripping fist. The blonde stared at her, startled to a standstill.
“Off the beach, young lady. Off! Off! This beach is for middle-aged fat ladies only.”
Then the blonde recognized Totie Fields and burst into laughter.
IF HUMOR'S your bag, you'll have a Fields day with Totie. Though pumpkin shaped, she's top banana on the comedy circuit. The madcap of Jewish mothers, the mop-maned darling of TV talk shows, the raucous rebel of middle-age, Totie may share Medusa's hairdresser but her victims are reduced to jelly, not turned to stone. Her intrinsic good nature is irrepressible, her all-embracing heart irresistible.
“A woman can't be funny unless she's a happy woman," according to Totie. But surely, deep in that exhuberant [sic] frame, there's a serious woman screaming to get out, I suggested.
“Honey, there's nothing serious about me at all,” contradicted Totie. “The only thing I take seriously is my family. I have the most precious husband God ever made and two darling daughters, both in college. But I'm not a serious person. I see something funny in everything. You have to if you're a comedienne, and I'm the highest paid in show business.”
Reluctant to disclose the secret she confides only to the IRS, Totie admitted that “I could make $100,000 a week if I wanted to. Not every week, of course.”

TOTIE WALKS as though her legs end in wheels and as we rolled up to her cabana, on the private preserve of Kahala Hilton sand confined to celebrities, I noted that her physiognomy resembles one of those child's drawings made of a series of circles. Beneath the halo of unruly curls, the spinning cogs of her mind reel out a non-stop monologue.
“The gift of humor is the greatest gift in the world,” continued Totie. “It's a gift from childhood. Everything springs from there. I don't think that what we are is a mistake. I had a marvelous childhood, the youngest of a large family raised in Hartford, Connecticut. My daddy, who owned a supermarket, was the most delicious man I ever knew.
“He was widowed at 36, with five children. I was only five years old when my mother died and I can honestly say, without meaning to be sacreligious, that I never missed having a mother. I had two of them and three fathers. They lavished me with love. I was everybody's toy.
“I THINK that's why I adore Hawaii, because the people here still have a loving quality that has been lost to greed on the Mainland. There's a feeling of family here. Would you believe that my daughter, Debby, attended a Mainland school in which she was the only child in her class whose parents were not divorced?”
Totie's not one to wait for an answer.
“This family feeling, which also includes our friends, is a very important part of my life. I think people are drawn to us because of it. Our house in Las Vegas is always full. Last week, Alan King, Sammy Davis, Jr., Phyllis Diller, Steve Lawrence and Edie Gorme came over for dinner, and just before we left Joel Gray and Florence Henderson dropped by for lunch.
“Los Angeles Magazine said we and the Bob Stacks entertain more than anyone else in show business. George cooks and I tidy up. I've been married to George Johnson 24 years and he still laughs at my jokes. Loving and being loved, that's what's important.
“AND AGAIN I go back to my father. He loved life, every minute of it, every blade of grass, every passing cloud. He always kept a blanket in the back of the car and when we kids were small, he'd take us driving until we'd pass a hill with a view, or a lovely tree or a field of flowers and then he'd pull over to the side of the road, spread the blanket and we'd all sit there, enjoying the beauty of nature.
“I drive my kids insane to this day by swooning at my kitchen sink over a desert sunset outside the window. I spent two hours this morning just looking at those three swaying palms. And for me to sit still two hours is a miracle. "Yet Edie Gorme and I can talk all morning about a petunia. Everything she grows, however, is bigger and better than mine. One day I'm going to get a gun and shoot her. I have 60 rose bushes and love every one of them. I bet that's a side of me you didn't know, Cobey.”
BEFORE I could admit I was already dazzled by Totie's spherical dimensions, a room clerk passed us, leading two VIP guests to their private cabana.
“Honey, bring us two Tabs and two straws,” called Totie, “and give them the check.” The guests looked back in dismay.
“It's a funny thing, Cobey,” carried on Totie, without dropping a comma, “but when you have a tremendous earning power you appreciate what money can't buy. When my father became ill, I realized how little money meant to me, compared to healthy parents, happy children, pretty faces, three palm trees in the sunlight. And when daddy died, all my money couldn't replace what I lost. At every stage of life, you've got to appreciate what it's offering you.
“EVEN YEARS ago, when I was struggling and was I ever, darling. Do you realize how thrilling it was to a manager to sell a fat little Jewish girl with a funny face? it never occurred to me to give up. I took every dancing lesson available, tap, toe, ballet, aerobatic. I skipped music lessons only because we couldn't afford a piano.
“By the time I was six, I was a real performer. At 10, I was practicing signing my autograph. Every one of my teachers was as convinced of my success as I was. There was only one thing I wanted more than show business. That was motherhood. I decided I would have both. Georgie was a performer. I met him when I was 19 and he was 20. We were married six weeks later and became parents nine and a half months after that. I must say God had been good to me.
“Not that it's all been velvet; a working mother still has two jobs whether she's in show business or a salesgirl in a dime store. At least your kids know where you are when you're working. “INVARIABLY, two minutes before my cue to go on, I'd get a phone call: ‘Mom, I just flunked algebra’ or ‘Mom, I think I've got the measles.’”
The two Tabs arrived. “Put in the straws, honey,” said Totie to the waitress. “I don't want anyone to think we're drinking booze. You never see a booze glass with a straw in it. I have a hard drinking neighbor who sips straight vodka through a straw. ‘No one suspects I'm an alcoholic,’ he says.”
Totie raised her Tab in a toast to Hawaii. “I'll be back at Christmas with eight kids, two of my own and six nieces and nephews. This beats a fancy toy. Hawaii's delicious. Kids too.
“Even the little kid who accosted me in the Kahala Hilton elevator last spring. I was riding up to our rooms with Merv Griffin and an angelic little girl about five years old got on at the second floor. ‘I know who you are,’ she said to me, ignoring Merv. ‘You're Totie Fields. My mother loves you. I beamed at Merv. We got off at our floor and the little girl popped her head out before the door closed and yelled ‘And my grandmother hates you.’ “If I see her again, I'll shoot her.”

Fields had a leg amputated in 1976 but still continued to perform, though not for much longer. She was named “Entertainer of the Year” by the American Guild of Variety Artists in 1978. She was dead of a heart attack later that year. She was 48.

Carol's Centrefold Man

“I was so bad, you can’t believe it,” he once admitted. And because of that, he ended up getting a regular TV job for seven years.

The interviewee was former state high school wrestling champ Lyle Waggoner. He was terrible at an audition in 1965 for the role of Batman. Yes, the Adam West Batman.

But that left him available when Carol Burnett wanted him as the male sex object for her new variety show in 1967, albeit he was technically playing the part of the show’s announcer.

Waggoner was bashed in some quarters for his acting range—he left Burnett to show he was more than a face that made middle-aged women giddy—but he was enough in demand that he spent four seasons co-starring opposite Lynda Carter on Wonder Woman.

Here’s a feature story from the Sioux City Sun of March 17, 1968.

Waggoner ‘Overnight Success’ After Four Years
By DICK CHAMP
Journal Staff Writer
It took four years in Hollywood but Lyle Waggoner has finally become an “overnight success.”
The big break for the tall (6-4), handsome actor came last summer when he tried for the role of announcer on the Carol Burnett Show.
He got the role and now viewers of the show recognize Lyle as the announcer Miss Burnett swoons over every week.
Waggoner also feels, he said in a telephone interview, that he's getting a chance to act in the role.
The St. Louis native decided four years ago that acting was what he wanted to do. So he left his own seasonal business in St. Louis to try to get into the film industry.
He was in Hollywood about a week before he took a salesman's job. A couple months later he got a contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer and was taking lessons in all facets of show business singing, dancing, acting.
“Things didn't go too well at MGM,” he says, “but I thought I might like to do commercial acting.”
He tried that but things were “pretty slim” for awhile. He went a year without a commercial acting job. After he got the first one, Waggoner found that things went a little better but he still was seeking an acting job.

He finally got an acting contract—seven-year one from 20th Century Fox. It was the school at Fox which helped him get the TV job. He now has an arrangement with 20th to go back with them after the Burnett show has run its course.
Lyle, who wasn't necessarily an announcer, heard from his agent that a person of his type (a leading man) was being sought for the job. Waggoner, a longtime fan of Miss Burnett's, had an interview and after a few weeks he started the show.
He feels now that he has gotten valuable experience in the announcing role. And he doesn't regret the decision to take the job. He was offered a role in Land of the Giants, a series scheduled next fall, but he turned it down.
The reason he didn't take it was that in the Burnett show he's playing himself and getting the opportunity to play a variety of characters in the skits. “I feel I'm identified with my own name,” he said, “rather than with a character's name.”
Since joining the show Waggoner has found that working with "pros" like Miss Burnett, Harvey Korman and others has been a great aid. “The members of the cast get along well,” Lyle says, “and the ‘pros’ help me a lot.”
Shooting winds up in April after the cast has shot three episodes for next season. “You really can't take anything for granted in this business,” Waggoner says, “but I think we'll be picked up for next fall.”
For Waggoner the hiatus period will probably be spent making some commercials and possibly doing some guest shots as an actor. He may also do some summer stock and movies.
Explaining that he has never regretted the decision to pass on a series, Waggoner says he “couldn't have asked for a better break than I'm getting. I feel that producers might feel that I have a good image for a movie leading man and I get to show my versatility.”
He thinks that in movies or stage plays he would be cast in light comedy and says “That's pretty much my type of role.”
Away from the set Waggoner says he's the “world's greatest game (sports) player. Right now I'm hung up on golf, billiards and handball.”
He also rides a unicycle some and says he likes any kind of game—“I'm a real nut for that kind of thing.” “That kind of thing” would include game shows on TV and he says he'd like to get on some of them.
Waggoner also does quite a bit of sculpting and cabinet making “when I'm inspired.”
Looking back (and ahead) Lyle Waggoner gives much of the credit to his wife (sorry, girls) of five years, Sharon, who's a former beauty contest winner.
“I have a gorgeous little wife who has encouraged me in this business,” Waggoner says, “and she hasn't ever expressed any jealousy. If anybody asked me the major factor for me in this business, I'd have to say it's my little wife, Sharon.”

Waggoner’s other main accomplishment, if you want to call it that, was his picture-spread in the first edition on Playgirl magazine. According to this story by syndicated writer Tom Donnelly previewing the issue, he was one of two centrefolds. This was published June 10, 1973.

Girls, are you ready for this?
By TOM DONNELLY
WASHINGTON – “He’s the stuff of which sexual fantasies are made, a 6-feet-4 hunk of gorgeous beefcake. He's ‘The Carol Burnett Show’s’ big turnon, Lyle Waggoner.”
So begins a profile, or, to be more precise about it, a paean of praise accompanying a four-page foldout of Waggoner in the nude, presumably the big come-on in the first issue of Playgirl, a publication billed as "the entertainment magazine for women.”
Playgirl isn’t the only new sex magazine aimed at women, by the way. California Girl, a San Francisco-based magazine that went national this month, offers nude male models capering about on the greensward and bold editorial statements to the effect that. “Today’s woman is entitled to a sex life.”
A spokeswoman for Viva, which debuts in September and is published by the people who brought us Penthouse, said that the new magazine “recognizes that women have heads and want to know about more than homemaking and kids; they want to know what's really happening in the world around them. We’ll tell them.’’ There won’t be any beefcake per se in Viva; the emphasis will be on “male-female nude sex.”
Playgirl is published in Los Angeles and whereas it boldly, some might say brazenly, exploits the Playboy formula for a distaff audience. Hugh Hefner has nothing to do with it. Editor Marian Scott Milam said the publisher, Douglas Lambert, is “a businessman of varied interests” who has owned and operated a nightclub called The Playgirl Club in Orange County for 10 years or so.
“That nude picture of Burt Reynolds in Cosmopolitan really triggered the birth of Playgirl,” Mrs. Milam said. “Mr. Lambert decided women were ready for this.”

By “this” Mrs. Milam presumably means the graphic aspect of Playgirl.
The editorial content of the first issue is, by and large, rehash of themes from Cosmopolitan. “Hong Kong — Playgirl’s Paradise” says a girl can have a simply divine time dating and dining and shopping in that exotic port; and if she “has qualms about sitting alone in a bar and looking like a pick-up,” why she can sit over a drink in a hotel lobby and, with any luck, get picked up there. “In Hong Kong this is not considered in the least bit unchic.”
The “Playgirl Philosophy” (“a playgirl is independent, self-confident, sensuous, aware, involved, adventurous, daring, curious, vital ...”) is so vapid as to make the boyishly lecherous musings of Hugh Hefner seem the work of a sage from Olympus of sex. Pictorially speaking, Playgirl goes far beyond the published fantasies of Helen Gurley Brown. Quantitatively, at least. Naked young men appear, here, there, everywhere. Twelve of them illustrate Playgirl’s astrology chart.
In the fashion section, a nude male cuddles up to a blonde modeling Mr. Blackwell’s latest gowns; she leans against pillars and posts, her flowing draperies concealing his vital parts whenever his hands aren't. The male vital parts are concealed in every instance in this first issue of Playgirl: the men clutch footballs, or guitars, or the backs of chairs or arrange their legs so as to shield the “ultimate vision.”
There are two celebrity nudes in the collection.
The centerfold shows a TV actor named Ryan MacDonald, formerly of the serial “Days of Our Lives,” stretched out in the Burt Reynolds attitude on a towel beside a swimming pool. It seems that Hollywood columnist Joyce Haber asked her readers to vote for the man they’d most like to see in the bare, and MacDonald won out over such more famous names as Tom Jones, George C. Scott, Robert Redford, Paul Newman, etc.
Lyle Waggoner may not have topped any polls, but Playgirl goes all out on him, with stripped-to-the-waist pictures, a bikini brief picture, and that possibly historic four-fold section which, when detached from the magazine, is approximately 204 inches by 164 inches. The nude Waggoner lolls in a chair, one arm resting on a nearby desk, his right leg discreetly crossed over his left.
Editor Milam is elated.
"Our first issue was a sellout,” she said. “Six thousand copies! In just a few days! For the July issue we’ve ordered 700,000; and we’re going up to a million for the third. We got 1,000 answers to our questionnaire in the Los Angeles area and (most) wanted more male nudes. Their only complaint was they thought we were too conservative. They want to see more!
“I suppose we can’t have any full frontal shots, but I think our subjects can be presented in movement — so there won’t be the connotation of posed pictures. Along with better nudes we’re going after better content. You see, I came in as editor quite late, so a lot of the material in that first issue isn’t what I would have chosen. I didn't, for instance, have anything to do with the ‘Playgirl philosophy.’ I’m going after serious authors, like Tennessee Williams and Vincent Price.”
Does she anticipate running out of men willing to pose in the nude? “Heavens no!” said Mrs. Milam. “That’s no problem. We can always get them from modeling agencies if we have to, but I think we can get them from just everywhere. We’re going to continue having two nude centerfolds, a celebrity and an unknown.
For the next issue George Maharis is the celebrity and a young college student is the unknown.”

Waggoner semi-retired from acting after Wonder Woman and opened his own successful company leasing trailers to stars on movie sets. He was 84 when he died.

Just think how different things would be if he had been a better Batman.