It's Just a Jokio

During war-time, it’s okay to ridicule the enemy. Of course, when the war’s over, the ridicule becomes really out of place. Bugs Bunny stopped nipping anyone from the Land of the Rising Sun, Popeye didn’t tell anyone in Japan they were saps, and Tokio stopped being a jokio.

Tokio Jokio was Norm McCabe’s last directorial effort for Warner Bros. It would appear he had left the studio and was in uniform when this cartoon was released on May 15, 1943 as his credit is “Cpl. Norman McCabe.” (The city was spelled “Tokio” back then).

The short is supposedly a captured Japanese newsreel and is full of unflattering, tired stereotypes. It starts out with a parody of the Pathé newsreels with the rooster crowing. Except the rooster turns out to be a Japanese vulture in disguise.

“Cock-a-doodle do, prease,” says the vulture, who then rubs its hands (?) together as the Japanese flag appears in the background. (The deal is Japanese people are polite and pronounce the letter “l” as “r,” so they say “prease” instead of “please.” Try to control the laughter).

The music behind this scene is “Fou So Ka.” You can hear it below, from a Victor recording in the U.S. Library of Congress.



The Japanese national anthem, “Kimi Ga Yo,” is under the opening credits.

Don Christensen gets the revolving story credit. Izzy Ellis is the credited animator, though I suspect Art Davis, Cal Dalton and John Carey also animated, with an uncredited Dave Hilberman providing layouts.

McCabe and Christensen don’t leave their ridicule for the Japanese. Hitler and Mussolini show up as losers as well.

Tralfaz Sunday Theatre: Printed Poison

See this actor?

I’ll bet you can’t name him. He has a connection with actor below.


Some of you will recognise him. Both actors are known for the voices, not their faces. Both were employed by Hanna-Barbera Productions in the 1960s.

This second actor is Alan Reed, the man who played Fred Flintstone. The first actor is Mike Road, who was Race Bannon on Jonny Quest. They both appeared in the anti-porn film “Printed Poison” (1965).

Road’s hard-boiled-detective-ish delivery is perfect for this strident picture, which must be considered pretty innocent in the face of what’s available on the internet today. It was based on a pamphlet circulated in 1964 by the Citizens for Decent Literature. We’ve checked newspapers and found some showings. One was at a meeting of the Huntington Park Knights of Columbus Council 2466 in December 1965 (“no persons under 18 years old will be admitted”), one of a number of Councils that either screened the film or made it available for other groups. Another was in March 1966 at a meeting sponsored by the 32nd Congressional District Republican Women Federated in the Long Beach, Calif., area.

Veteran radio actor Sam Edwards is here as a porn magazine seller, along with John Doucette as a District Attorney. Unfortunately, there are no credits. The stock music really adds to the atmosphere.

Benny at 39 for the 30th Time

What was Jack Benny doing on his 39th birthday in 1963?

What else? Working.

He was working out the bugs in a show that he was taking to Broadway. Instead of New Haven, where stage extravaganas of old made their mistakes and revisions before heading to the Great White Way, his location was Toronto.

Singer Jane Morgan was part of his show. So was 14-year-old Toni Marcus, perfecting her version of the “Getting To Know You” violin duet with Benny that she performed on his TV show that year.

For years, Jack gathered with the press upon his arrival in a city for an extended period. One reporter covering the Toronto arrival was Jim Coleman. No entertainment writer was Coleman. He was a sports columnist, spending time in Vancouver before (like a number of actors and print journalists) answering the call of Toronto the Good. When common sense prevailed, he returned to the West Coast and wrote for the Vancouver Province before retiring. At the time, Coleman also had a programme on the nascent CTV network.

This column appeared in the Southam papers starting on Feb. 11, 1963. Coleman doesn’t hide the fact the media (generally male back then, unless there were “women’s” things to be covered) were a bunch of horny liquor pigs. Canadians of a certain vintage will recognise Clyde Gilmour’s name. He was a music reviewer on the CBC for many years. His earlier career included a stop at the Province after time as the Canadian Navy PR officer in Vancouver beginning not long after V-E Day.

Jack Benny, a gentleman who has made a career of genuine urbanity and spurious parsimony, drew a crowd which would have taxed Maple Leaf Gardens when he starred at a press conference in a Toronto hotel suite the other afternoon.
The SRO sign was on the door an hour before Mr. Benny made his appearance, shrouded in a grey gabardine trench coat and a tired look.
Mr. Benny's arrival wasn't noticed immediately by the representatives of press, television and radio, who were up to their elbows in hors d'oeuvres.
Mr. Benny wasn't noticed because he was preceded by Miss Jane Morgan, a lady whose personal architecture causes the mind to boggle. Miss Morgan was wearing a mink coat and, when she began to slide the mink from her shoulders, I feared, for an instant, that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the coat.
Clyde Gilmour, the motion picture critic, was the first greeter as the official party pressed through the bulging doorway. Miss Morgan gave him her full 50,000 kilowatts.
"You and I have met before," she murmured, speaking through her clenched cleavage.
Mr. Gilmour, who normally is as sophisticated as David Niven, stammered some inane acknowledgment and squirmed back into the crowd.
"I have met her before," Mr. Gilmour explained, dabbing the perspiration from his brow, "but, she makes it sound so INTIMATE."
The nature of the entrance was a clever ruse conceived by David Palmer and Hazel Forbes, the press agents for the theatre where, Mr. Benny and his troupe will perform for the next two weeks. Miss Morgan swept into a sitting room, followed by 75 per cent of those interviewers who weren't moored to the bar.
Taking advantage of these diversionary tactics, Mr. Benny ghosted his way into a pair of adjoining rooms where the television and radio crews were ready with batteries of cameras and tape-recorders.
Strangely enough, I found myself among those following Miss Morgan. I didn't go of my own accord—I was shoved from behind. Wishing to describe her costume, in print, I sought some assistance from Helen Beattie Palmer.
Mrs. Palmer now is a dignified editor, but when I knew her first in Western Canada, she was a first-class, no-nonsense reporter who used to sit up all night, drinking bad whisky with the boys in the backroom.
"She's wearing a Don Loper full-skirted deep blue satin cocktail gown," said Mrs. Palmer, giving a genteel body-check to a radio-type, who was crowding us too closely. "If you want to describe the cleavage, you can look for yourself."
The radio type had his chin resting between Mrs. Palmer's shoulder and my shoulder. "Bro-ther," sighed the radio-type, as he peered at Miss Morgan.
Mrs. Palmer turned to glare at him. "Would you," she purred, "mind taking your necktie out of my drink. Oh, it isn't your necktie—it's your tongue."
The young Mr. Benny
When Mr. Benny eventually escaped from the television and radio room and was circled by reporters, he demonstrated quickly why he has dominated his branch of the entertainment industry for 35 years. His travel-weariness left him and, speaking in a voice which sounded exactly like Jack Benny, he warmed to the questioners who crushed around him.
He proved to be a bit shorter than I had expected—about five feet nine. Although he will be 69 on Thursday, he could pass as a man 15 years younger. That’s his own hair, although it's thin on top. The only really grey hairs are on his neckline and sideburns.
He explained why each year he has refused to appear on the vast open-air stage at the Canadian National Exhibition. "I have to have intimacy. I can't do one-line jokes," he said. "I'd be miserable trying to perform on a stage where I was so far from the audience."
With mock passion, he continued: "There isn't enough money in Canada to pay me to make myself so miserable. I'd come to Toronto and give a charity concert for nothing—but I wouldn't take all the money in the country to work on that open-air stage."
In answer to a question, he dragged up the immortal bon mot, credited to the late Fred Allen. To honor Mr. Benny, the City of Waukegan planted a tree on the lawn of the court house. The tree died within a few months. On his radio show the following week, Fred rasped: "No wonder the tree died—the tree was in Waukegan, but the sap was in Hollywood."
The ever-present Strad
Mr. Benny brought along his Stradivarius, an instrument which he plays on very slight provocation. A genuine music lover, he spent Saturday evening attending a piano recital by Arthur Rubinstein at Massey Hall.
I asked the management of the Royal York Hotel if they had received any complaints from other guests when Mr. Benny practised on his Stradivarius in his suite.
A hotel spokesman appeared wounded by the question.
But, all old newspaper reporters have spies. Mr. Benny has been quartered in a suite at one end of a corridor.
And although the hotel won't admit it, none of the adjacent rooms have been rented to guests—just in case Mr. Benny decides to play Love in Bloom on his Stradivarius in the middle of the night.

Oh, in case you’re not aware, Jack Benny’s birthday is February 14th.

Since a sports reporter covered a show biz star, it was only fair that a radio/TV arts student turned social reporter cover a sports star. The Toronto Star’s story on the post-premiere party didn’t initially focus on Benny or Morgan. It opened by pointing out that among the 400 guests was an unexpected appearance by Toronto Maple Leafs defenceman Tim Horton.

Commercials By Ernie Pintoff

If you know anything about Ernest Pintoff, it’s because you read about (or have seen) Flebus (1957), his one cartoon for Terrytoons. Producer Gene Deitch hired Pintoff from UPA, where he had directed the TV short Fight On For Old. After Pintoff started Flebus, he walked away from Terrytoons, leaving Deitch and animator Jim Tyer to finish the cartoon. Deitch recalled Pintoff stuck to himself mostly, playing his trumpet, and the only person he got along with at the studio was quirky old-timer Tyer.

Pintoff moved on to a short-lived business with Robert Lawrence, animating spots for American Beer, before striking out on his own. Obirtuaries in 2002 talk about his highs (an Oscar for The Critic) and lows (directing Falcon Crest and The Dukes of Hazzard) but don’t mention Flebus, nor his work in animated commercials, nor his books (nor, for that matter, his ownership of Wig Records). He told Howard Beckerman, recorded in the January 1974 issue of Filmakers Newsletter, that he went into live action because he “wanted to deal with people—bodies, breasts, reality!

“Live action made me verbal,” Pintoff continued. “In animation you just communicate with guys sitting around drawing boards. I put all of my ideas into the sound track and became known for that. In live action you have to be able to communicate with many people on a set, you’ve got to be articulate.”

I’ve never thought of slow motion film of the General Lee jumping over a barrier as anything more than a cliché, let alone “articulate,” but let’s get back to animation.

I really enjoy animated commercials of the 1950s and early ‘60s, which come in a variety of styles. Many people who worked at the theatrical studios found work on spots for TV. Here’s a short piece on Pintoff’s recent commercial work from Art Direction magazine of May 1961. About 90 issues are available on line and my only regret is the resolution is so low that the cartoon frames come out too murky. But this may give you an idea of some of Pinoff’s work.

Unfortunately, none of the animators are identified. A few who worked for him were Jimmy Murakami, Vinnie Bell and Jim Hiltz. My recollection is Emily Tip was a character on the Tip Top Bread commercials, created by Ed Graham, Jr.

COMMERCIALS THIS MONTH
BY RALPH PORTER

Film Art: The Little World of Ernie Pintoff

Twenty-nine year old Ernest Pintoff first came to my attention with the successful Emily Tip commercials. His influence in stylized animation has been recognized, and now, when newness of concept and form is so difficult to achieve, it is a pleasure to see him create ever-new delights for both TV and cinema.

This latest group of commercials shows freedom of movement; abandoned, unrestricted concepts and excellent integration of sound and sight. Pintoff is an accomplished musician and composer and usually writes his own music to accompany the output of his brush.

1—Royal Prime Yams
Agency: Hicks & Griest
Production Supervisor: Dick Renderly
AD: Len Glasser
Copy: Art Mayer
Music: Ernie Pintoff

2—National Guard
Agency: Fletcher Richards, Calkins & Holden
Production Supervisors: Bob Nugent, Steven Rapolla

3—Burry’s Scooter Pie
Agency: Weightman & Co.
Production Supervisor: Len Stevens

4—Alemite Agency: MacFarland Aveyard (Chicago)
Production Supervisor—Grant Atkinson

5—Lucky Strike
Agency: BBD&O
Production Supervisor: Bernie Haber
Creative Director: Georg Olden

If you have an archive.org account, you can read his ANIMATION 101 here. And you should be able to find versions of Flebus and The Critic on-line.

Around the Tree With Woody

Ink and paint departments were pretty anonymous in the Golden Age of Cartoons. They did top work, though. I especially admire dry-brushing work in the various studios, especially MGM.

Here’s an example from Walter Lantz’s The Screwdriver, a 1941 cartoon where Woody Woodpecker drives an authority figure crazy. You can see some of the drybrush work in one scene where Woody demonstrates speeding to a cop. There are also outlines of wheels; outlines find their way all through the cartoon.

Mel Blanc supplies all the voices (okay, there are only two characters), while Alex Lovy and Ralph Somerville are the credited animators. Bugs Hardaway and Jack Cosgriff are responsible for the story. Woody soon outlived authority-figure heckling, taking on stronger challengers like a hungry cat, a pal-sy wolf and Buzz Buzzard as wonderfully portrayed by Lionel Stander.

Can't See the Characters For the Trees

Tex Avery didn’t originate the “large body behind thin tree” gag, but he seems to have liked using it. All he and his gag writers had to do was find variations on it so it wouldn’t be stay.

Let’s see how he handled it in The Screwy Truant, a 1945 MGM release.

Here’s the basic gag.

Now, the variations.

Tex tries the body-parts-run-between-the-elms gag. The tail hops.

By now, Tex’s pace was fast enough that you didn’t have time to think about the gag.

Preston Blair, Ed Love and Ray Abrams are the animators.

Come and Knock On Her Door.

The young woman you see to the right had trouble getting sex.

We should qualify this. It was in a TV role she couldn’t get sex. And the show aired a little more than 35 years after this picture was taken.

She made her motion picture debut in 1941 opposite Ronnie Reagan in Warner Bros.’ The Flight Patrol, but was on the New York stage by the end of the year. You know her best as Mrs. Roper.

Three’s Company was Audra Lindley’s biggest success and led to a spin-off series starring her and TV husband Norman Fell. It debuted in 1977, which proved to be a busy and not altogether banner year for her career, as we are reminded in this column from the Newspaper Enterprise Association, Aug. 25, 1977.

Actress Audra Lindley— A Hit Could Ruin Her Record
By DICK KLEINER
HOLLYWOOD — Audra Lindley could be in the Guinness Book of TV Records as the only lady who has been in three TV series on three different networks in one year — and they were all dropped.
But there's a problem. The last of the three shows is being brought back, that could spoil the whole thing.
Audra was part of the cast of NBC's Fay and CBS' Doc — without question, flops, at least judged from the standpoint of doing a quick fold. And then she began playing the wife of landlord Norman Fell on ABC's Three's Company.
That lasted six weeks earlier this spring. And that was that. Except the show astounded people, even ABC, by being in the top ten on four of those six weeks. So ABC, no slouch at recognizing a potential hit, is bringing it back. Audra says she has been told they'll make 22 more for next season, with an option for a few more after that.
ABC is going to pair it with a new show called Soap on Tuesday nights. Both of them are shows that are built on foundations of double entendres, so the network's obvious gambit is to make that Tuesday night slot a mild adventure in the risqué.
That's OK with Audra Lindley, who feels that it's far better to go in that direction than in the violent direction.
"I don't think Three's Company is sexy," she says. "There is certainly nothing lewd about it. It's just light and frothy and it has a very happy mood about it. It's like a slightly risque joke. Anyhow, I'd much rather there was sex than violence on TV."
Audra Lindley isn't exactly what you'd call an old-time TV fan. In fact, for many years, there wasn't a TV set in her household. That's when her five children were small, and she felt TV was bad for them.
Then when she got divorced, somehow a TV set became a symbol of revolt, a gesture of defiance, so she went out and bought one.
But she still wasn't a big fan. In fact, a few years after that first set entered her life, she was signed to do a play with James Whitmore. She says she knew him by reputation, but she had never seen him work.
"The play was a hunk of junk," she says.
But things worked out. Audra became Mrs. James Whitmore in 1971. Until that time, she had always called New York home, even though she had been born and raised in California. But she grew up deciding to be a stage actress and went to New York and stayed the through thick and thin, mostly thick.
But Whitmore doesn't like New York. He much prefers California. So Audra came to California with him and, being a woman who loves working, started looking for work. She was lucky and found it — she played the part of Bridget's mother on Bridget Loves Bernie. She says that series was spoiled when the producers got away from the original concept.
At the moment she's very high on Three's Company. She likes her part and the people she's working with and the prospects for the project.
Audra's childhood was a moving one. Her father was an actor. Her mother was an actress who gave up her career when she had the fourth of her five children.
"My father wasn't very successful as an actor," she says. "Once in a while, now, I'll see him on a late, late show — he played a trapper with Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy in 'Indian Love Call,' and that's on once in a while. "He kept moving every year selling a house and buying a new one, I guess he felt the new house would bring good luck, When he was 65, he became a make-up man and made more money than he ever made as an actor.
"But I think my mother lived vicariously in my career, because she'd given up her own. She helped me pack my bags when I went to New York."

Three’s Company lasted eight seasons, but Lindley and Fell were gone after only two years, given their own series. The Ropers died after 28 episodes. Reporter Kleiner caught up with Lindley afterward. In his column of July 15, 1981, she bluntly said the series was deliberately scuttled by ABC because someone at the network didn’t like it, and kept moving it around on the schedule every time it gained an audience.

She told Kleiner she didn’t want to go back to Three’s Company. Not that the show needed her. Don Knotts had been brought in to replace her and Fell, and the former Barney Fife was, as you might expect, a hit with viewers.

Her career didn’t end. She continued to work in theatre and television, appearing on as Cybill Shepherd’s mother on Cybill, taping an episode a month before she passed away in October 1997.

One of Lindley’s most interesting projects was a film distributed by B’Nai Brith in 1958. It was the tale of a teenage girl shunned by her friends and neighbours for her visible support of Jews. Patty Duke has a small role as a friend in this non-commercial film. You can see it below. This is far from the broad comedy of Mrs. Roper (this version of the print has no credits but was the cast was mentioned in various publications at the time).

Calling Tom and Jerry

A phone comes to life in the Van Beuren cartoon Hook and Ladder Hokum (1933). It whistles to firemen Tom and Jerry to get out of bed.

Unlike Flip the Frog’s phone in the 1930 Ub Iwerks cartoon The Cuckoo Murder Mystery, it doesn’t say “Damn!” or anything else.

There are several other gags I like here, such as the fire pole made from a stream of tap-water, and the flames coming from a house spelling “Help” and “Hurry.”

George Stallings and Frank Tashlin get the “by” credit.

Gene Rodemich’s score opens with “Rhythm,” which is heard through a good portion of the fire scene, along with “Corn-Fed Cal” and “The Streets of Cairo” (during the hose-charmer scene). Hear “Rhythm” below.

Coyly Hidden Gags

There were all kinds of people who didn’t get screen credit in Warner Bros. cartoons but, every once in a while, their names appeared on screen anyway.

Several cartoons involved characters or things on book covers coming to life. One was Bob Clampett’s A Coy Decoy (1941). These book cartoons featured books resting on shelves, and the name of a Leon Schlesinger employee might find his/her name inscribed on a cover or spine.



On the book to the right of Daffy you’ll see the name “Kirsanoff.” This was assistant animator Anatole Kirsanoff, born in Ukraine in 1911. His mother was Russian actress Maria Kirsanova. Kirsanoff attended the School of Applied Arts at the University of Cincinnati, where he received three first and three second place ribbons in an art competition in his senior year in 1935. In 1937, he was working for Walt Disney. His wife was opera singer Rosalia Lynn.

A check of some local newspapers reveals he moved from Schlesinger to the Walter Lantz studio by October 1941, he and two others opened a glass business in Los Angeles in 1947, and he was in Chicago in 1953. You might have seen his name on various Filmation series. Scouts will be interested to know he was involved with Cub Scout Pack 352 sponsored by the Coldwater Canyon Elementary School. Kirsanoff died on May 2, 1973, age 61.



The book behind Daffy is “The Downfall of the House of Sasanoff” by Thomas. Michael Sasanoff handled some story and layout work after Clampett took over Tex Avery’s unit in 1941. Sasanoff was Russian-born in 1903 to artist/singer Max Sasanoff and came to the U.S. in September 1913. He attended the National Academy of Design, the Art Students League and painted murals for various libraries, theatres and schools in New York. In 1928, he was involved in the New York Council of the Unemployed, which the New York Times described as "a Communist organization." 1938 saw him employed as an artist and spieler on Coney Island. The following year, Sasanoff was working for the Fleischers in Miami and legally changed his name from Mische to Michael, though he had been going by "Murray."

After his stint with Schlesinger, he found work in New York as TV creative director of the Biow Co. In 1948, he created Sunny the Rooster, produced by Telefilm and voiced by Hans Conried for Schenley. After stops at Sarra, Inc. (1949) and N.W. Ayer (1957), he worked as creative director from 1958-62 at Lawrence C. Gumbinner Advertising (animated spots for Roi-Tan Cigars and Omega Oil). Following that, he became a stockholder and creative vice-president of Henry R. Turnbull, Inc. At the time he was living in New Canaan, Conn., where he began directing operas in 1957 and exhibiting his (non-cartoon) artwork. He died Dec. 20, 1984.

“Thomas,” I suspect, is Dick Thomas, who supplied backgrounds for Clampett’s black-and-white unit. We profiled him in this post on the Yowp blog.

Norm McCabe is the credited animator in this short, while Mel Millar gets the story credit. It was released on June 7, 1941, and on that date it was screened at Warners’ Sigma Theatre in Lima, Ohio, with the Priscilla Lane feature Million Dollar Baby.

I Never Ate Jell-O

Out of curiosity, I did a newspaper search of this date 50 years ago to see what Jack Benny was up to. Lo and behold, there was a feature article about him in the Burlington (N.C.) Times-News.

This article had been released to subscribing papers by the North American Newspaper Alliance earlier. In those pre-internet days, it was not uncommon for feature pieces to be spiked (that is, put on hold; I worked in a newsroom decades ago that still used spikes on the wall for wire copy).

This version was published in the Bergen County Record, January 18. 1973

The story answers a question some Benny fans ask now and again—did Jack use his sponsors’ products? In the case of his two best-known sponsors, the answer is “no.”

The jokes were on Jack
By DAN LEWIS
Entertainment Columnist
HOLLYWOOD — Jack Benny was guest of honor at a party tossed by NBC and the parent RCA corporation the other night. As one would suspect, it was filled with great fun and nostalgia. What makes a Benny function fun-filled is that Jack not only likes to tell stories about himself, but enjoys repeating what others have said about him.
It was of course more than coincidence that the tribute should be paid to Benny on the eve of his first television special of the season, “The First Jack Benny Farewell Special” (tonight on NBC-TV, 9-10).

Probably the greatest tribute to Benny was reflected in the presence at the party of Bob Sarnoff, chairman of the RCA board and its chief operating officer, Julian Goodman, president of NBC, and Don Durgen, president of NBC-TV.
Jack was presented with a special gift, an old RCA radio set, 1929 vintage. When he flicked the dial, memories flooded the room, as the voice of the late Fred Allen boomed from its speaker via playbacks from his old radio show.
In the acid style that characterized their hilarious feud in radio's golden days, Allen was heard declaring: "Benny was born ignorant, and has been going down ever since." And. "Benny has a pig on stage so it can eat the things the audience throws at him. Some weeks he has two pigs."
Jack stood on stage listening and laughing hard. Then he recalled another Allen gag. "They planted trees in my honor in my home town of Waukegan, Ill.,” Jack recalled. “Allen said 'How can they expect the trees to grow in Waukegan when the sap is in Hollywood?' " Jack loved telling the story.
Jack also made some startling observations: "All the time I was so successful with Jell-o (as his sponsor) I never ate a drop of it. I hated Jell-o.”
Later, Jack's sponsor became Lucky Strike cigarettes. "I never smoked in my life," Jack declared.
The stories about Benny's alleged cheapness have been legendary. Jack does nothing to discourage them. Even at this party, he helped perpetuate the legend.
He revealed that while he was sitting at the table with Bob Sarnoff during the dinner, he said he wanted to show Sarnoff that all the stories about him were untrue.
"You know, Bob," Jack recalled telling Sarnoff. "I'm not cheap, I'd like to pay for this dinner here tonight.”
Sarnoff protested. Jack persisted.
Finally, Sarnoff told Benny, “No Jack, I’d feel better if you let me pay for it.”
“Well, Bob,” Jack responded, “if you’re [sic] health is involved. . .all right.”

40 TV critics were invited to the dinner. It appears the Chicago Tribune’s Clarence Petersen was one as he reported on it, and had more quotes from Jack:

"When it comes to commercials, people will remember what you said when they are laughing at the same time. I'll never forget the first time we did it. I was nearly thrown off the air.
"Because the first company I ever worked for was Canada Dry Ginger Ale. We had one that I thought was so funny, where I told the listening audience . . . that the product was so good that we had a salesman whose territory was the Sahara Desert, and this salesman ran into a caravan of about 30 people who were dying of thirst; so our salesman gave each of them a glass of Canada Dry Ginger Ale, and not one of them said it was a bad drink.
"Now that's funny, isn't it? And do you know I was nearly thrown off of that show. They were gonna say: 'How dare you? We can't have that kind of negative advertising!' ”

Among the guests was Jack’s long-time friend, George Burns. Petersen recounted:

From the sidelines, George Burns ventured onto thin ice by recalling one of Benny's earliest stingy jokes.

"YOU DID A JOKE about taking a girl to a cafeteria," said Burns, "and you said she laughed so loud she pretty near dropped her tray."
Benny stared for a moment, then exploded: "You just spoiled the joke! Now, I want to show you how a great comedian ... I want to show you how you spoiled that joke. I remember that joke. Now here's the way you tell it: 'I took my girl to a restaurant and I told her something and she laughed so hard that she dropped her tray.' That's funny. You immediately spoiled it by saying I took her to a cafeteria—well, for crissake, in a cafeteria she would have a tray. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!."
It was one of the few times Benny has got the best of Burns, but Benny also told of a more typical exchange:
"NOT LONG AGO THE FRIARS Club of New York gave a dinner for George and me ... so we go to New York, to the Plaza Hotel, and take a suite of rooms—a living room and two bedrooms, a bedroom for him and a bedroom for me.
"Now, I said: 'George, let's get to bed early tonight because tomorrow we've got to think, and we've got to work tomorrow night. It's a dinner for us, and we're both going to have to make speeches, so let's get to bed early.'
"So I go to bed. I want to show you what this man can do. It's unbelievable.
"About 3:30 or 4 o'clock in the morning, I feel something tugging at my arm, and I wake up, and it's George, standing there with a deck of cards in his hand and I can hardly open my eyes. I'm sound asleep and he is standing there and be says, 'take a card.'
"So like a damn fool, I took a card. And he says to me, look at it.'
"I can hardly see. So I looked at it and he said, 'put it back in the deck.'
"And I, like a fool, I put it back in the deck, and he says, 'thank you' and went back to his own bedroom. "I didn't sleep for the rest of the night."
And no one slept at the Jack Benny party either. Benny even played the violin for us, which was enough to sour the wine in your glass, but it left a very good taste in your mouth.

Sad to say, Benny’s first farewell special was just about his last. He planned a series of them and work had begun on the third when he died of pancreatic cancer just after Christmas in 1974.