January 25, 2006

• Man, our parents were into some weird shit.
• When's the feature film version of this coming out?
• Man, our parents were into some weird shit. Only in a pre-LSD world could Howdy Doody be considered anything short of disturbing.
• No kiddinc, MCT. I was always so creeped out by Doody and his upsettingly silk-clad human handler, I never noticed he was giving advice. And the mute clown...that show gave me such nightmares.
• Is it really that different for kiddies these days? Shows like Speed Racer condensed hours into nice ritalin-sized episodes, ha, ha! Is there a correlation between the name "Speed Racer" and... nevermind, a puppy!!
• I never Howdy Doodyed, but I was a Do-Bee!
• Believe me, it was a trying time to be a small boy with red hair, freckles, and ears that were not pasted flat to your skull.
• Surely it always is?
• I can't pick my teeth with a knife? What the hell is this all about? To hell with you, Howdy Doody!
• It's all the weirder to me knowing that Edgar Bergen began his ventriliquist act on radio. Did people love ventriliqists that much back in the mid century that they would happily indulge hem in any media?
• Acts not ideally suited for radio: ventriloquists strippers mimes
• Actually, radio in the old days was one of the better mediums for performers who worked in a fictional capacity. In some ways it was THE ideal medium for someone like Bergen, whose strength lay not so much his skills as a ventriloquist, but in his ability to create and sustain a number of different characters who acted vibrantly with one another and behavedg in distinct yet recognizable ways. Bergen's vocal range, superb timing, and gentle yet roguish wit were always superior to his ventroloquism per se. Bergen was in effect a one-man repetory company, he and the subpersonas he eatablished -- Charley McCarthy, Mortimer Snerd, Effie, etc-- were the show. I tend to feel sorry for folk who only know the sad travesty called radio these days. At its best, radio was an enlarging, intellectually engrossing experience. Example: When Fibber McGee's closet was opened, by gum you as a radio listener filled the theatre of your mind with the Niagra of sounds leading you into witnessing and co-creating a Mt Everest of closet junk tumbling, spilling, sliding, crashing and tinkling from it. I think no other medium, certainly no broadcast medium, has radio's remarkable ability to stir the imagination of each listener. Television shows you a story. Radio admitted you into the narrative itself.
• What beeswacky said so well... and a pox on Blanky for allowing me to click on that link without a warning about the sound! Everyone in the office now thinks i'm nuts... well, they always have but now it has been confirmed!
• "And the mute clown...that show gave me such nightmares." Really? I've never seen Carabell in action, but that was Bob Keeshan! Captain Kangaroo himself! I have a hard time seeing Captain Kangaroo giving kids nightmares. His haircut, maybe...
• I had nightmares about Captain Kangaroo's grandfather clock. Yes, I was an odd child. Ir ead somewhere that Fred Astair used to tap dance on the radio, too. Well, in the radio studio, not atop a radio set. Which he could have done very well if he'd wanted to.
• I spent a certain amount of time trying to BUY Captain Kangaroo's grandfather clock. Couldn't find it.
• filled the theatre of your mind with the Niagra of sounds hehe - ahh Cheers ya wackity bee!
• when I was much younger and unaware of his vocal talents, I burst into giggles when I saw a cassette labeled "Fred Astaire". mm, 30 minutes of tapping!