Uncle John’s Curiously Compelling Bathroom Reader (78 page)

BOOK: Uncle John’s Curiously Compelling Bathroom Reader
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In 1995 Steve Fossett became the 1st person to make a solo flight across the Pacific in a balloon.

There was no arguing with the orders. Performers had two choices: obey or quit. And if they quit, they never worked for Keith and Albee again. “During my early years on the Keith Circuit,” wrote veteran vaudeville star Sophie Tucker in her memoirs, “I took my orders from my blue envelope and—no matter what I said backstage (and it was plenty)—when I went on for the Monday night show, I was careful to keep in bounds.”

The work was grueling. Acts played a minimum of two shows a day (2:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m.), but sometimes as many as four. The only days off were when there were no bookings. Producers never hesitated to call rehearsals on short notice any day of the week. There was no holiday pay, no overtime pay, no rehearsal pay. Performers were also expected to supply their own costumes and maintain them for the season, which ran 42 weeks a year.

Why did performers put up with such harsh conditions? Money. The pay was good in vaudeville. In 1910 the average American factory worker was lucky to make $1,300 a year; a small-time vaudevillian could make more than twice that. For women, uneducated immigrants, and the poor, vaudeville was one of the few ways they could earn a good living.

THE DEATH TRAIL

Performers worked their way up (or down) three tiers of vaudeville:


Small-time:
Theaters at this level were sometimes no more than a storefront with benches, often out in the middle of nowhere. The pay was as low as $15 a week, especially on the “Death Trail,” which was what players called a tour of one-nighters in towns like Butte, Montana, or Winnemucca, Nevada. Small-time was a training ground for new acts, or the last stop for old-timers on the skids.


Medium-time:
Good theaters in a wide range of cities, and good money—$200–$300 a week. This is where most acts earned their bread and butter.


Big-time:
The best theaters, the best cities, the best money. Headliners could easily earn $1,000 a week—a fortune at the time.

THE BILL

The formula for a vaudeville performance was honed and perfected by producers like Keith and Albee to make sure the audience (called “the big black giant,” by impresario Oscar Hammerstein) always got its money’s worth.

Sad fact: There are only about 700 mountain gorillas left in the entire world.


Opening act:
Usually a “silent” act—a juggling troupe or trained dogs, for example—that wouldn’t be ruined by the noise of the audience settling in. (Some silent acts, like juggler W.C. Fields and rope trick artist Will Rogers, went on to become headliners when they added comedy to their bits.)


Second act:
A juvenile brother or sister act, like the Gumm Sisters (Frances Gumm became famous later as Judy Garland) or the dancing Nicholas Brothers.


Third act:
A one-act play or comedy sketch featuring “legit” actors, like Sarah Bernhardt, Helen Hayes, or the Barrymores. Famous writers, such as J. M. Barrie (
Peter Pan
) and Jack London (
The Call of the Wild
), often provided material.


Fourth act:
A novelty act, like a magician or mind reader. Escape artist Harry Houdini started in this slot but quickly rose to headliner status.


Fifth act:
Celebrity guest stars held down this spot, which came right before intermission. Sports figures such as boxer John L. Sullivan or baseball’s Babe Ruth would come out to answer questions from the crowd. Helen Keller appeared with a translator, who signed questions into the palm of Keller’s hand. Carrie Nation, the famous temperance crusader, came onstage wielding the axe she’d used to break up saloons. Convicted murderesses were always a big hit.


Sixth act:
The act right after intermission was always something big and flashy—a lavish production number with lots of dancers and elaborate costumes, or a novelty orchestra. Tiger and lion acts were popular too.


Seventh act:
Called “next to closing,” this spot was reserved for the headliners. It was the star spot, and only the top acts earned it. They also made the most money—at a time when a laborer might earn $40 a week, Eddie Cantor was getting $7,700.


Closing act:
Being the closer was the worst. It meant you were on the way down and out. No one paid attention to you as the crowd put on their coats and headed for the aisles.

Producers often purposely put bad acts in the closing slot to help clear the theater faster, before the next performance. Occasionally the policy backfired with happy results. The Cherry Sisters were possibly the worst act ever to star in vaudeville. They sang so horribly off-key that they were booed and pelted with rotten fruit. Then a smart producer realized that the audience actually loved to hate the Cherry Sisters. So he set up a fruit stand in the lobby and sold “ammo” to the audience as they came in. When the sisters went on, they found themselves performing from behind a protective wire screen. As they sang, the crowd howled with laughter and fired away. The Cherry Sisters soon became one of the hottest acts in vaudeville, commanding top dollar, and remained a big draw for decades.

“J” is the only letter that doesn’t appear anywhere on the Periodic Table of the Elements.

THE PALACE

For a vaudeville performer, playing the Palace Theatre in New York City was like being in the World Series for a baseball player. Built in 1913 by impresario Martin Beck, who dubbed it the “Valhalla of Broadway,” the Palace was the pinnacle of vaudeville success. Monday matinees were packed with theater managers, booking agents, talent scouts, and other performers. A good response not only meant instant fame but also, more importantly, bookings all across the country. Performers would often take a lower fee just to get on the bill.

Unemployed players would hang out on the triangular patch of sidewalk outside the Palace, trading gossip and tips about possible work. So many of them “vacationed” there that the spot came to be known as “the beach.” Today it’s the site of the TKTS discount ticket booth in Times Square.

“WEEDING OUT THE CRAP”

It took discipline and stamina to make it on the vaudeville circuit. Sketches like Abbott and Costello’s classic “Who’s on First?” were polished by the continuous grind of playing “two-a-days.” Singers and comedians had to create material that would play coast to coast, for everyone from sophisticated urban audiences to rural hayseeds. “It took two years to get seven solid minutes to put in an act,” recalled Milton Berle. “You weeded out the crap, and then deleted and edited stuff that wouldn’t play.”

And acts had to be quick-witted to survive. Fred Allen was playing a show in Bayonne, New Jersey, when a cat walked onstage during his act, howled…and gave birth to a litter of kittens. “I thought this was a monologue,” quipped Allen, “not a catalogue.”

How old was Jimi Hendrix when he died? 27—so were Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison.

FORGOTTEN LEGENDS

Many legendary names in show business—Bob Hope, Jack Benny, Al Jolson, Mae West, Burns and Allen, the Marx Brothers, W.C. Fields, Buster Keaton, Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, Bessie Smith, Judy Garland, Jimmy Durante, and Bert Lahr, to name a few—cut their teeth in vaudeville. We remember them today because they made a successful transition to movies and radio in the 1930s and ’40s, and to television in the 1950s. But many of the biggest vaudeville stars didn’t cross over.


Eva Tanguay
(1879–1947): Known as “the girl who made vaudeville famous.” She had a so-so voice but knew how put across a song. Audiences loved this Canadian’s brassy personality and racy numbers. Billed as the “I Don’t Care” girl, after her biggest hit, “I Don’t Care What Happens to Me,” she followed it up with, “It’s All Been Done Before but Not the Way I Do It.”


Bert Williams
(1874–1922): The first black performer to become a national star. He made a dance called the “cakewalk” famous; his hit songs, “Nobody” and “All Going Out and Nothing Coming In,” were admired for their wry wit. And although his act was popular with blacks and whites, he still had to navigate a segregated society. He pulled it off with style: After a show in Chicago he stepped into a nearby bar and ordered a drink. When the bartender smugly told him drinks for “coloreds” were $50 each, Williams pulled out a wad of $50 bills and told the guy to buy a round for everyone at the bar.


Smith and Dale
, a.k.a. Charles Marks (1882–1971) and Joseph Sultzer (1884–1981): The top comedy team for 20 years. Legendary for their perfect timing and “rat-a-tat” delivery, they were Neil Simon’s inspiration for his hit play
The Sunshine Boys
. Here’s a sample from their signature sketch, “Doctor Kronkheit and His Only Living Patient”:

Smith:
“Are you the doctor?”

Dale:
“I’m the doctor.”

Smith:
“I’m dubious.”

Dale:
“Hello, Mr. Dubious. So what’s your problem?”

Smith:
“It’s terrible. I walk around all night.”

People on U.S. money who weren’t presidents: Hamilton, Franklin, Susan B. Anthony, and Sacagawea.)

Dale:
“Ah! You’re a somnambulist!”

Smith:
“No, I’m a night watchman.”

Ba-dum-pum.

CURTAIN DOWN

On Friday the 13th in May, 1932, the Palace Theatre did the unthinkable. It replaced its two-a-day vaudeville bill with a movie double feature. Most historians mark that date as the death of vaudeville. Several factors were to blame—the growing sophistication of audiences, who now saw vaudeville as old-fashioned, and the reliance of theaters on ever more lavish and expensive shows. Mostly, though, it was the movies. Films were easier and cheaper for producers to present, and ticket prices were much lower for audiences. Vaudeville limped on until the 1950s, but by 1926, nearly all of the great vaudeville theaters had been converted to moviehouses.

But vaudeville didn’t really die—its influence continued on in the new medium of television. Variety shows were a staple on early TV, and programs like Sid Caesar’s
Your Show of Shows
and
The Ed Sullivan Show
were pure vaudeville. Where does the ghost of vaudeville linger today? On
Saturday Night Live
and late-night talk shows like Leno and Letterman, which continue to be a collage of comics, singers, dancers, and even jugglers. As writer Larry Gelbart (
M*A*S*H
) said, “If vaudeville is dead, TV is the box they put it in.”

VAUDEVILLE TERMS WE USE TODAY


Hoofers
.
A nickname for dancers, who would beat their feet on the stage before their entrance to give the conductor the right tempo. It sounded like a horse stamping its hooves.


Corny
.
Unsophisticated comedy routines were considered “stuck in the corn,” meaning they appealed only to rural audiences. The term became shortened to “corny.”


Tough act to follow
.
When an act got a huge response, the next act had to work twice as hard to win over the audience. So it was a great compliment to a performer to be called “a tough act to follow.” For W. C. Fields and Jack Benny, both masters of their craft and never shy about taking on the competition, there was only one act they dreaded following: the Marx Brothers. Benny said after a while he gave up worrying about whether he could top the zany comics: “I just stood in the wings and laughed like hell.”

The average temperature on Mars is –81°F.

HOW TO FIND YOUR WAY HOME

In 1978 Uncle John journeyed to the Himalayas, searching for the world’s highest outhouse. Did he bring a map? No. Extra supplies? No. Did he find the outhouse? No. Did he have to be rescued? Yes. Don’t be like Uncle John. Read this article so you’ll know how to survive in the wilderness.

A
RE YOU PREPARED?
What would you do if you suddenly found yourself stranded—lost in the woods or alone in the desert? The more civilized we become, the less armed we are with the skills needed to survive off the land. And too often, people on outdoor adventures put themselves in harm’s way because of poor planning and a lack of basic knowledge about their surroundings. We pored over our library of survival books to bring you these general rules to follow any time you go on a trip—by car or on foot.

TIP #1: PLAN BEFORE YOU LEAVE HOME

• Whether you’re going on a long vacation or just a day trip, tell more than one person where you plan to go, what route you plan to take, and when they should expect you to return.

• Always have an up-to-date map in your possession. If you’re taking a long road trip, bring an atlas. If you’re hiking in the wilderness, bring a detailed topographic map of the area.

• A basic knowledge of where you’re going may save your life, especially if you’re heading into nature. What’s the terrain? What predators, poisonous plants, or insects live there? What kind of weather should you expect? Example: If you’re heading to the mountains—even in August—an unexpected storm could roll in and drench you with rain or even snow.

• Pack adequate food (some of it nonperishable), water, and warm clothes, including socks, gloves, and a hat. Basic survival kits with matches, a knife, and a compass can be found in any outdoor equipment or recreation store.

• Keep extra supplies in your car: two gallons of water (one for you, one for your car), nonperishable food, detailed maps, waterproof matches, a flashlight, spare batteries, flares, a dashboard cover that has “Emergency—Need Help” printed on one side, a whistle, first aid kit, rope, pocket knife, tools, blanket, extra clothing, jumper cables, and tire chains.

BOOK: Uncle John’s Curiously Compelling Bathroom Reader
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