Pop Culture Revisited

  • by Drew

Since I’ve been doing all this writing about old time radio shows like Harry Lime and The Shadow, and the late, great Orson Welles, I am reminded of another interesting old time…well, event I should talk about. While working on my undergraduate thesis I got very involved in the study of literary hoaxes. That’s a whole other topic, but this line of research eventually led my to the Geritol quiz show scandal in the late 50s. It was discovered at that time that Producers on the show were giving answers to preferred contestants. There were investigations, some lives were ruined, and none of the rich bad guys suffered.

In the mid-90s, Robert Redford made a movie about it all. And, actually, its a very good movie. I know this because I researched the events and watched a number of documentaries about the scandal while I was in college. Several years later, I caught the film on a movie channel and thoroughly enjoyed it (Rob Morrow’s atrocious Boston accent aside).

At the time, Geritol was the sponsor, and had a reigning national tonic to help you age better, lose weight, stay regular, cleanse your body, heal everything, cure zombie-ism, lube your chassis and anything else you wanted it to do. They wanted drama. They wanted characters you could either love or hate, characters you would tune it to either cheer for or against. They sanctioned the producers to manipulate the contestant pool to heighten drama and weed out the less desirables.

They had a long run with Herb Stempel, a brash, working-class Jew from Brooklyn who could virtually sweat on command. John Turturro is fantastic in the role – trust me, I saw a lot of interviews with this guy. The real kicker, however, is when they lassoed Charles Van Doren, product of one of America’s great literary families, and a popular Columbia University professor, and made him an American folk hero.

If you haven’t seen it, you should. It’s a thinky movie, sure, but it’s also true. It’s all true. It reveals a dark but persistent and very, very real aspect of our popular culture. And if you think anything has improved since the 50s…think again.

What evil lurks…

  • by Drew

My love of Old Time Radio began with The Shadow. Back in my college radio days I got on some mailing lists with catalogs of esoteric recordings. These were back of ‘zine catalogs, mouse type on a single photocopied page with handwritten corrections, send a SASE for a copy of the pricelist kind of things. Within a year or two of my dawning interest, all of this back page stuff pretty much disappeared along with the ‘zines, moving onto the Internet. Sure, it was the early days, but it wouldn’t be long before those types of classified ad pricelists by mail were a thing of the past.

Anyway, in one of these catalogs I found a couple of inexpensive cassettes that I bought for long drives, going to gigs or back and forth between Boston and New York. It was the beginning of an insane collection, but most things big have to start out small…or, at least less big.

One tape I got was War of the Worlds. The other had a couple episodes of the Shadow. Classic, early episodes after the Shadow show format changed from a Tale From the Crypt style show to the more recognizable Lamont Cranston, man about town, version. The first season of Lamont Cranston as the shadow starred Orson Welles. And it was magnificent. Truly, truly, like a couple of Ambersons.

It was dark and moody and less comic-booky than the later seasons. In ran up through the 50s, so there was plenty of time for evolution. In fact, some of the later seasons, long after Welles left the show, were among the most enjoyable to listen to. They were more polished and often better written, if a bit safer or tamer. Radio seemed to go tame and lose a lot of its edge after World War Two. The same goes for movies and even a lot of music, I think. The woo hoo 50s really did end up begging for the 60s.

But in the late 30s, the world was on the verge of massive conflict and the tense energy pervaded all media. Thus, when I first heard the Shadow some 14 years ago, hissing out of the cassette player in my car, it was truly extraordinary. Radio show sponsors in those days were coal and cigarette companies, shaving cream and hair tonic peddlers. Latter day phisoderm and little blue pill merchants, maybe, but who cares. And a couple years later, they’d start asking all good Americans to buy War Bonds and follow the rationing rules.

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?

The Shadow knows. Ha ha ha ha ha!

[brought to you by Pennsylvania’s finest anthracite, Blue Coal]

Crosstown Traffic

  • by Drew

Old Time Radio is a favorite subject of mine, and an enjoyable pastime that almost no one seems to share with me. Nevertheless, for me, Old Time Radio and Orson Welles go hand in hand. It should come as no surprise, really. I mean, the War of the Worlds Halloween prank gone wrong is a well-enough-known story, and the tales are true.

A number of people tuning in late to the program did not hear the disclaimer at the beginning and believed it was a real news broadcast. This may sound far-fetched today, but if you listen to a lot of Old Time Radio, you can see (or hear) how the Mercury Theater actors gave a performance that sounded like the standard radio fare of the day, and thus, sounded “real.”

But the Mercury Theater on air was only one of the many radio programs Orson Welles was involved with. In fact, he was so in demand as a radio actor that he had trouble travelling across Manhattan from one radio broadcast station to another. Taxis couldn’t cut through NYC traffic fast enough for him to make all the live broadcasts he wanted to take part in.

Then he discovered a loophole in city traffic laws. It seems you didn’t have to be sick to hire an ambulance. So he traveled about the city in a private ambulance, sirens blaring, from appointment to appointment.

Wouldn’t you love to be a cop pulling that dude over.

Cop: What do you mean you’re not sick?
Orson: I’m a famous radio performer going to work.
Cop: You what?!?!
Orson: Just kidding, I just read a some kick ass colonix reviews and think I should check it out before I start gaining weight in my forties and max out at 350 pounds.
Cop: Carry on, chubby.

Eating for 4

  • by Drew

Speaking of the late great Mr. Welles brings to mind a few great quotes…or, paraphrases maybe, because it has been quite a few years since I took a legit film class. But there were many. Many, indeed, and I used to actually think that these anecdotes made me interesting to the opposite sex. Of course, now I know better. Ask my wife…I barely ever ramble on about this stuff.

That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

Anyway…things he said:

  • I’m not very fond of movies. I don’t go to them much.
  • I hate television. I hate it as much as peanuts. But I can’t stop eating peanuts.
  • I started at the top and worked down.
  • I don’t pray because I don’t want to bore God.
  • My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people.

 

That last is a favorite knowing how he blew up late in life. I don’t even think glucomannan could have stopped this guy. His regular dinner? Two steaks, rare, and a pint of scotch.

And I read somewhere that he actually put on weight for Touch of Evil. Wooo-hooo. No meat and potatoes for this bed and breakfast man…just meat and meat. And booze. And meat.

Bang!!!

  • by Drew

(cue zither music)
That’s the shot that killed Harry Lime, as those of you who saw the movie The Third Man know…

Ah, another old time radio treat I’ve been enjoying of late. The Lives of Harry Lime, a show Orson Welles did for a couple of seasons…somewhat after his Citizen Kane/Shadow prime, but long before his fat burner Touch of Evil days.

First of all, if you haven’t seen The Third Man, get off your butt and Netflix that baby. It’s a classic. Orson makes a late and magnificent appearance in the flick, but Joseph Cotten as the confused American in Vienna trying to figure out what happened to his old roommate is pure gold. This film had to be one of Hitchcock’s favorites.

This particular radio show ran from 1951-52, following the film’s release in 1949. The great thing (and I admit this may sound like a plot spoiler, but really, are you going to take my advice and see this wonderful film?) is that Harry Lime is a dead man in The Third Man. Yup. Dead as a doornail. So, this radio show, conceived after Graham Greene’s novel and screenplay, all takes place before the events of the film. How swell can you get?

Fences

  • by Drew

Some people say good fences make good neighbors. Others believe that kindness and open communication is best. I’ve met some people with a quiver and a half full of little apostles who still don’t know the first thing about ‘do unto others…’

These days we all sit anywhere we want on the bus, regardless of age, race, religion, or gender. At least in theory, because everyone knows cool kids sit in the back. And the water fountains are for all, and the park benches are for all…be they protected historical benches or modern benches, or fallen trees losing their bark.

Or maybe just the stump.

Listen.

Be sweet. Be sweet. Be sweet. Baby, please be sweet.

getting plowed

  • by Drew

On the relatively recent subject of plows and plow drivers – they’re nuts, right? I mean, as a generalization. They’re pretty much totally wacko. Yeah, I know there are a few normal ones out there, but the majority of guys who plow must be bat-poop insane.

This is excluding the guys who plow with back hoes and other heavy machines. They are often in a whole other class. And, of course, anybody who puts a plow on the front of a four wheeler atv. Half of those guys are cowboys, the other half are in the market for tweed sport coats and mac memory.

No, I’m talking about the standard winter sight of rusted out pickup trucks with even more rusted plows, flying out of driveways with no heed for oncoming traffic. They slide around and do donuts in the middle of the road. They bounce off trees, and in large parking lots, sometimes off each other.

I’ve know a few guys who’ve done heavy winter plowing and man, their attitude borders on a death wish. Seriously. I even knew this one guy who wouldn’t plow with any less than a half pint of vodka in him. Often more. He said it kept him loose when there were impacts.

“Impacts?” I asked. “You mean when you hit a pile of snow?”

He just laughed at that, shaking his head at my naivete.

snowblind friend

  • by Drew

Lying on the pavement with the misery on his brain –

Steppenwolf quote. Great song. Makes me think about plow guys in these blizzard days.

Okay, it hasn’t snowed too much in the last few days, but we’ve still well over a foot…everywhere. And now I’m reflecting on those heavy snow days and the familiar enemy of the sane: the snow plow driver. In particular I think of the guy who plows the driveway across the street from our. Ours has been paved for a couple years now and I am a snow blowing fiend whenever the powder falls. The drive across the street is gravel, or pea stone, or whatever you want to call it.

I should say, it was gravel. Last year, pretty much the entire length of stone got dumped at the foot of my newly paved driveway. Boy, that was annoying. Our neighbors got the guy to redo their driveway somewhat, but this year he was at it again. Not as much stone ended up in our yard this time, but man, you should see the mounds of snow. No, you don’t see gravel in the snow, you see about an inch of the underlying dirt.

I’m thinking this guy is going to need some life insurance. And not because he drives like a maniac…but because my neighbor, when she gets a look at that…

Blue, Gold and Vroom Vroom

  • by Drew

We just had the big Blue & Gold dinner for Cub Scouts. Boy, does this bring me back. I can still remember sneaking bits and pieces of such events from back when I was a scout. I mean, I never progressed beyond Webelos, something like 6th grade for me, but there were some good times.

The B&G dinner is a big family event for scouts, and it’s when most receive their next significant achievement, or the one they’ve been working toward for the year. My little guy got his Wolf badge, looking so good in his uniform. And the penne and meatballs plus salad served buffet style… not too bad.

The best part of the evening – the Native American dance demonstration. It was…illuminating. It gave me a whole new perspective on that snake dance ritual in Billy Jack, too. There’s really nothing I can say that won’t sound like a sleight, so I’m going to just leave it at that.

We still have a couple of good scouting events to end out the year. In a couple of months there’s an overnight trip to a battleship. I’m totally looking forward to that. And, of course, the Pine Wood Derby is only a month away. Our car is shaped and ready for paint. And I’ve already priced high risk auto insurance for the event, so we’re ready to roll.

Is it weird that I’m having more fun with my son as scout then when I was a scout myself?

Mattress Dump

  • by Drew

You know that warm feeling I had thinking about the kindness and generosity of people donating their used books to local libraries for fundraising book sales?…yeah, that’s gone.

I mean, I think it’s still really cool that people are willing to donate their stuff to benefit a charity, or people in need. But only when they do it properly. I guess it is hard to screw up library donations. You have books, you put them in an old office supplies box, and tote them to the library.

It’s kind of like the big metal Goodwill donation bins. You know, they put them in parking lots with clear instructions that they’re for clothes and shoes only. If you bother to read the smaller print you see that they ask people to not leave anything around the bins. This is because the owners of the land on which the bins are sitting usually get pissed if there’s a lot of garbage hanging around, and they will have the bins moved.

The instructions ask that you not leave bags of clothes or shoes around the bin if the bin is full. they also ask that you not leave anything else around the bin, like books (we already know the library will take them) or furniture or baby items like cribs and strollers. They are pretty specific.

So can someone tell me who the incredible ass munchers are that leave strollers and cribs and chairs and other huge things around those bins? Come one. How much ass do you have to much for your brain to rot so much that you gleefully dump your old jizzy couch next to the Goodwill clothes and shoes bin? There was actually just such a bin with just such a couch on my way to work, in a little park and ride lot. I noticed a couch and armchair show up about a year ago. Every week for about 2 months I drove by and it was still there. Finally, after two months, the couch and armchair were gone. And so was the bin. Thanks for ruining it for everybody else couch jizzer.

A couple weeks ago we went to a favorite local diner. Toward the back of the parking lot are a couple of Goodwill bins. Leaning against the Goodwill bins were a couple of mattresses. Seriously. Mattresses?Think about it. Somebody had to actually transport that mattress to the bins. Couldn’t they have just gone another mile or two down the road to the town dump? Talk about a super douche.

© 2026 Drew Bancroft. All rights reserved. Totally.