Tag: Soupy Sales

The Zen of Mr. Ed and Wise and Wascally Wabbits

My brother loved cowboys. Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger and Tonto, and of course Marty’s favorite, Hopalong Cassidy.

I myself preferred Rin Tin Tin. Every time I heard the words “Yo Rinty” my ears perked up and I felt like chasing bank robbers. When Rin Tin Tin came after you it was no contest. He was always a hero.

Then Mr. Ed came along of course.

Yes, I watched Mr. Ed. Did I believe a horse could talk, no. Although he did sound so authentic. But it wasn’t that Mr. Ed was a talking horse that made him fun. It was what he said. Let’s face it, if Ed was an intellectual saying stuff like E=MC squared (I don’t know how to type squared) that would be boring. Even if the words were coming out of his ass.

So it wasn’t the talking angle that captured viewers. It was the mouth on him. He reeked with sarcasm and because he was a horse, pulled it off. People couldn’t say what Ed said. No way. But from him…pure gems. The ruder and more demanding he was, the more entertaining the show. And Wilbur just went along for the ride. Literally. Ed had no filter and the subjects were universal.

On being a household pet: “If you had a dog, you’d let him sleep in the house… Then call me ‘Rover’ and wake me at eight.”

Food: “Stop gabbin’ and get me some oats!”

A simple life: “Well, time to hit the hay…oh I forgot, I ate it!”

Ed on fashion: “I’ll wear it till it goes out of style. Then I’ll eat it!”

He was demanding, sarcastic and always lording his superior intelligence over poor Wilbur.

One of my favorite episodes was when Mr. Ed was reading the morning stock reports in the paper and said he was glad his money is tied up in hay.

He then began a dialogue about his lack of financial security and what would happen to him post Wilbur. What if his wife Carol married a horse hater? Watching him question Wilbur about his will was brilliant. Hey, even a horse has to have something to retire on! Maybe it was Mr. Ed that subconsciously influenced our decisions to start an IRA.

Okay so the humor isn’t Seinfeld, but what did we know?  Even Larry David had to start somewhere. To us sophisticated humor was Milton Berle dressed as a woman. Or the three stooges, I will say no more.

Of course there was nothing odd to us about talking animals. After all, if you grew up in Detroit you ate lunch every day with Black Tooth, White Fang, Willie da Worm and Pookie the lion.

To be honest they were far superior to many people I’ve had to dine with in my life. There have been times I would’ve much preferred listening to Black Tooth kissing Soupy, than conversing with the person sitting across the table from me.

Seriously, can anyone top Soupy asking White Fang if he took a bath and White Fang answering “why, is one missing?” I still laugh.

Or when White Fang was chasing a rabbit and shot it and Soupy said, “Oh well, Hare today, Gone Tomorrow.” Do not mock me…just watch this Soupy moment on a day you need a laugh and tell me you aren’t hysterical. Here’s the cyber land address, or whatever it’s called https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fv9Rr6zPZuE.

When one thinks about it, we actually started believing animals talked with fairy tales and of course there was Jiminy Cricket.

Yep, a cricket that wore a top hat, carried an umbrella and sang When You Wish Upon a Star. I still wish on stars. Oh sure, like you don’t. And I still clap for fairies, too. Tinkerbell counted on us.

Rocky and Bullwinkle. Iconic and the whole Boris and Natasha thing, too funny. Who didn’t love Dudley Do Right or Peabody’s Improbable History? I’ll give you two to one odds even Peabody could never have seen this future coming.

We had Mickey Mouse and his club. Yes, I was a Mousketeer. Winnie the Pooh and his big tummy. Somebody needed Ozempic.

There is no way I could ever write about talking animals without mentioning one of the greatest of all time. The king of sarcasm, the greatest stinker of all, the irascible and inimitable Bugs Bunny. The wascally wabbit himself.

Who couldn’t love him watching him dress as a woman to fool the Tasmanian Devil? Always outwitting Elmer Fudd, and Elmer was the one toting a gun! Funny when you think about it there was a lot of violence in those cartoons, hello roadrunner. Yet, perhaps because it was a cartoon we never equated it with any reality. Today I suspect it wouldn’t pass the PG13 seal of approval.

Bugs was not only the best, he was a step ahead at all times and we loved him for it. There was Zen in Bugs. His wit, his guts, his brain taught us one of life’s great lessons…brain beats brawn anytime.

The whole crew was wonderful, Daffy Duck, and poor Sylvester whose mouth was always watering for the Tweety Bird. If you think about it animals brought us a wealth of laughter and a lot of wisdom to boot.

They are and were such a positive part of our lives. Still today kids are watching and enjoy new generations of talking canines, rabbits, dragons, pussycats and numerous other species.

I personally believe this is one of the foundations for growing up compassionate and kind.

Loving animals, feeling as though they are friends and being entertained by them.  Learning this at a young age has always and always will be an enjoyable and important lesson.

So if you’re having a bad day, watch YouTube. All the old shows are on there and I guarantee the kid in you will still be singing along. M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E.

Lunch Was Super With Soupy Sales

It wasn’t a fancy lunch at the Polo Lounge or Spago, but mostly peanut butter and jelly, some tuna fish and lots of Jello that went boing, boing, boing. Not five star or gourmet fare, but they were the best lunches I’ve ever had. As a special perk the menu for the next day’s lunch was posted on the blackboard so we could entreat our mother to duplicate whatever Soupy was having. We weren’t just viewers, we were Birdbaths. Members of an elite card carrying club that drank United Dairies milk.

I’ve been really fortunate in my life to meet and dine with some pretty incredible people, but I’ll take my memories with Soupy Sales, White Fang, Black Tooth, Willie da Worm, and Pookie over anything. The knowledge I gleaned from the words of wisdom written on the blackboard under the title Soupy Sez were invaluable. Such gems as; “Be true to your teeth or they’ll be false to you,” “Over the teeth and through the gums, look out stomach here it comes,” “When a man writes a song in his automobile, it’s called a cartoon,” “You show me a man who puts his parakeet in the blender and I’ll show you a man who makes shredded tweet,” “Birds are really something to crow about, but a bird in the hand can be a mess,” “Show me a woman who has misplaced her handbag and I’ll show you a tote-all loss,” “Show me a novel caught in a wind storm and I’ll show you a book gone with the wind,” or “Show me a midget king and I’ll show you a twelve-inch ruler.”

Or such informational weather reports on his ancient radio as, “there will be a volcano eruption today so for your own safety learn the words to lava come back to me.”

Add to that learning to dance The Mouse and the Soupy Shuffle and our aerobics were included with lunch.

It wasn’t just learning the skill of taking a pie to the face or being made aware how careful you need to be before opening a door unless you knew the pointed finger or arm waiting on the other side or a celebrity waiting to get a pie in the face. It was the interaction between friends that taught me so much. Let’s face it, who else could ever get away with throwing a pie in Frank Sinatra’s face and live? The pranks, including one infamous moment Soupy opened the door to a naked woman we never saw on camera as he fell apart, are still part of the show’s mystique.

Of course White Fang and Black Tooth were the experts at getting one’s point across without the use of intellectual phrases or complex sentences. Just a few shakes of the paw and a couple of familiar grunts were all we needed to get the message and laugh uncontrollably. Their grunts far exceeded the intelligence of most politicians today. No interpreter necessary, we understood every “eh eh eh” White Fang uttered. To this day an imitation of those two extremely vocal hounds can send me into fits of laughter. Perhaps I can credit them with my editing abilities. Thanks guys for jump starting my journalism career.

Of course Willie da Worm as Soupy called him, was a great life lesson as well. Prone to sneezing fits and health issues, he owned the moniker, “the sickest worm in all of Detroit.” He made one wonder how many other sick worms there were in Motown. The way Soupy delivered his sympathetic offerings to the poor little ailing creature taught me true compassion. It’s one thing to offer empathy to another human being, but the idea of opening my heart to a worm, I have to confess it opened my eyes. Nowadays Willie da Worm would have to take  a COVID test. Times have changed indeed.

Soupy was constantly telling Black Tooth, the biggest sweetest doggy in the United States, “don’t kiss.” While he attempted to untangle himself from her hugs he advised her to drink lots of milk because it gives the cows something to do.

I could double up in hysterics faster at a puppet hand that made noises than at people.

Now Pookie, that was one cute little lion. Always referring to Soupy as “Boobie” it’s no wonder I love cats so much. And that cat could scat like Ella Fitzgerald or put on a wig and sing like Petula Clark. Okay so maybe he sang pretty badly, but I was actually grateful something existed with a voice worse than mine.

White Fang, the biggest, meanest dog in the United States was not only nasty, but oh so clever and conniving. He never failed to put one over on Soupy. Guess it should have taught me to beware of cute dogs or good looking men with bad intentions.

The guys in the studio snickered at all the puns and bad jokes and many times you weren’t quite sure why. So I also learned the meaning of an inside joke.

Between the insane news reports and future guest stars like Moshe Dyan Cannon and Belly Savalas, it was non-stop insanity. Yet, more than anything from watching the interaction between Soupy and the gang, we noticed how Soupy, befuddled look on his face, actually listened to his puppet friends. Maybe that’s where we learned how.

Yes, the humor was shtick and craziness was the order of the day, but we laughed and loved every minute. Half the humor we got, half not so much, but we heard the guys in the studio roaring with laughter so we smiled along. The point is we had a side order of giggles with our lunch. It wasn’t politically correct and it didn’t have the artful banter of a Neil Simon, but it lightened our day. And after lunch we returned to school with a full stomach, a happy heart and Soupy throwing us a big kiss.

When Did I Become a DJ’s Song Introduction?

How many times through the years have you heard a DJ introduce a recording as an oldie but a goodie.

I now realize that I have become exactly that, an oldie but a goodie.

And what might you ask makes you think you are a goodie? Oldie one gets without the need for an explanation.

Perhaps it is the fact my memory now resides in Google and the things I remember and treasure are on Facebook pages I share with thousands of others. We realize there is a limited number of us who are aware things we once adored ever existed. But thankfully I can still recall the things that made childhood so special.

Of course the very accomplishment of reaching that certain age, puts you in a category that should be applauded.

As Barry Manilow sings, “I made it through the rain…”

So if indeed I did, and we all did, then what now?

What is our next great achievement?

Becoming an oldie but a goodie seems rather lackluster, although damn nice to hear.

What is our next stage? Antique?

Rare antiquity? Salvageable?

Should I run every time I see someone resembling Indiana Jones heading in my direction?

Is my fate to stand alongside Cleopatra’s barge in some museum as an example of how wrinkles evolved?  

It must give one pause. So I’m pausing. Largely because I need to more often now. Pause I mean. Racing through stuff is no longer the option it once was.

Currently, sharing becomes selective. Telling your grandchildren about meeting Soupy Sales loses its flavor when they turn to you with a blank stare and ask, “What’s a Soupy Sales?”

I now understand our accomplishments, exciting moments, and fulfilled goals must be taken at face value. Our face. And despite the fact we now have so many more moments to share, there are fewer left who have any idea what we’re talking about.

Thus the need for Facebook pages dedicated to stuff that happened sixty years ago.

So finding an old hanger from a department store we hung out at over sixty years ago that no longer exists seems exciting to us. Especially when you can post it on your Facebook page and there will actually be others who are equally jubilant.  

I dread to think what would happen if Facebook disappeared and we had to wander the streets talking to ourselves or anyone who would listen about how we found the recipe for J.L. Hudson’s Maurice dressing..

I’d prefer to tell my grandchildren that elevators used to have uniformed people in them pushing the buttons and opening doors.

Still, as their eyes glaze over you might regret not posting about it on Facebook instead.

Here’s a scary thought. What if you had to go through life boring everyone you meet until you heard snoring as you recount how you lost your skate key from around your neck.  

Can you even imagine how millennials would look at you if you told them your mother filled twenty books of S&H Green Stamps to get a toaster?

Or that a bank used to give small appliances away to get you in the door to open an account?

Now you’re lucky if there’s anyone there to even help you at a teller window.

I don’t believe they want to be bored when you share these little gems from your past. I just think young people can’t in any way relate. Let’s face it, things are very different now.

There is no way anyone would believe you didn’t pay for light bulbs or Bill Knapp’s gave you a free cake for dessert on your birthday.

It so begs credulity you may as well walk into a party and announce you just arrived from Mars on the Concord.

Telling my grandsons we had trucks driving through the neighborhood selling baked goods. Or a milkman dressed like milk sounds like a fairy tale to kids that can order anything they want with one click on Amazon.

Yes, I understand that times change and life moves at breakneck speed, especially as you age. Still, is it so terrible to believe Clarence got his wings when that bell rang?

I agree living in the moment may be the right thing to do. But is wanting to remember some of the happiest times of your life and share them so bad?

I feel lucky that my grandsons will take time off from building robots or Minecraft and listen to my tales of the past. Sure, a yawn may slip out, but they listen. And at times they are even intrigued by my tales from ancient times like the fifties and sixties. Or the events that colored our lives in the past.

I can’t tell you how often my grandson has asked me to tell him about the day JFK was assassinated because he knows how important a memory it is for me.

So even if it’s a pity listen, I’ll take it gladly because it’s borne out of love. And at least he understands who John F. Kennedy was and how much he meant to Baby Boomers.

I know we need to have a balance now. It’s important to keep making new memories as we selfishly guard the old. Exactly what that balance is, don’t ask me. I still consider a balanced breakfast a sleeve of Oreos dipped in a glass of milk.

Is it me or Has Everyone on Planet Earth Lost Their Mind?

Is it me or Has Everyone on Planet Earth Lost Their Mind?

It’s pretty well accepted we are born into one world and leave another.

Although this has always been the case, I believe Baby Boomers are leaving the strangest world yet.

It’s truly amazing that anyone born shortly after World War II spends a great deal of time talking about how different life was back then and it’s been my experience my generation is quite confused by the insanity which we have suddenly found ourselves a part.

This planet is bats..t crazy.

After the war America was suddenly in a new world position. We were the cowboys in the white hats that had swept in and saved the planet from the bad guys. We were Gary Cooper and John Wayne combined and had cleaned up Dodge City.

The evil axis had been destroyed and now life was moving forward with a whole new attitude except…

Yep, even as a child I remember there were problems to deal with.

Russia and China. Okay, sounds familiar right?

I guess some things never change. We took cover in the school basements to protect from atom bombs. Heard tests of air raid sirens and watched as neighbors dug holes in their back yards to build fallout shelters.

To say I was terrified of Red China would be an understatement. But I’m twice as scared now.

Politics aside and that’s where they should stay, childhood was an amazing time in America.

The fifties were filled with exciting new inventions like television and telephones in every home, and all kinds of new gadgets.

I remember my first HiFi. Wow, and even those little red record center fillers for 45s seemed high tech to us.

We thought the world was a really cool place. Between the Mickey Mouse Club and American Bandstand we felt such a part of everything.

We played outside until the streetlights came on, walked to the corner to purchase penny candy like licorice records and wax lips and the latest comic books; my friends and I just lived for those Archie Annuals. Then we would carry our treasured comics home in a bag with our sunflower seeds and candy to read and share the rest of the day.

Life was so simple and so amazing. Of course we were kids so there was no real awareness of problems that plagued our parents; and that’s the point isn’t it. Our parents tried to keep us unaware of the difficult issues of the times. Unaware that polio was sweeping the nation even as we happened to pass the TV and see a picture of a scary iron lung that might have given us nightmares.

We didn’t pay any attention to politics, which is why we grew up healthy and normal.

When politics finally entered the picture so did protests, drugs, death and confusion.

We played games like jump rope, hopscotch, monopoly and Mr. Potato Head, and of course Operation.

My friends and I cut movie star pictures out of magazines like Photoplay and Modern Screen and then traded them like baseball cards.

We chewed the bubble gum and saved the baseball cards and boy do I wish I still had some of those cards today.

We rode our bikes everywhere and after school the neighborhood kids played baseball or football in the street. We spent the day roller-skating up and down the block with our skate key around our neck on a ribbon. Then happily ran inside to get our money when we heard the Good Humor truck ring its bell.

We knew our neighbors and we acted respectfully toward everyone.

In the winter we put on our snowsuits, boots, scarves and gloves and braved the walk to school, then home again for lunch, then back again, then finally home to sit in front of the TV watching the few channels playing our favorite shows. We were terrified of our teachers and being sent to the principal’s office was tantamount to as bad as it gets.

We walked to the movie theatre on Saturdays to watch a double feature or a matinee of fun flicks like The Blob, I was a Teenage Werewolf or Gidget.

We ate Oreos for an after school snack with a large glass of cold milk and at dinnertime we all sat together at the kitchen table, eating and discussing the day.

Bedtime was bedtime and we couldn’t stay up except on Tuesday night when I got to stay up later to watch Milton Berle, probably the first drag queen before we ever knew what a drag queen was. Most nights I would listen to my cool, new clock radio until I fell asleep.

Our fathers pushed the lawn mower around the grass on Sundays after a brunch filled with favorite foods.

To shop on Saturdays we hopped on a bus and went downtown to big department stores. We felt so grown up when we got to eat lunch in the dining room where stores like Hudson’s featured kids meals.

We could hang out at the record store for hours, then go home and play a new favorite singing and dancing around the living room practicing the newest steps.

We knew the names of everyone on Bandstand, what Soupy Sales was having for lunch the next day and that Hi Yo Silver meant a guy in a black mask and his faithful companion Tonto would soon be riding in to clean up the town. We watched Sky King and Fury on Saturdays and never noticed that the scenery on Star Trek was made up of Christmas lights.

We were incredibly innocent and Lord do I wish I still were.

I feel badly that children today are being subjected to politics and brainwashing and sadly losing their youth to political agendas.

There is a lot to be said for being protected from the hardships of life unless and until one is forced to face them.

It was different times and Baby Boomers shared a bond those programs provided. To this day “Yo Rinty” is a call to which every one our age responds.

Sure, some might say I’m coloring the past with an overly optimistic brush. Perhaps, but from the reaction of my friends when I wax nostalgic and they jump in with their own fond memories, I think not.

I look around this strange, insane world and am reminded someone once said ignorance is bliss; I choose to believe it’s actually a blessing.

From Clarabell to COVID-19. Have Baby Boomers Come Full Circle?

spaghettipie

 

 

From Clarabell to COVID-19.

Have Baby Boomers Come Full Circle?

As a child, Wednesday was my favorite day. Why? Well as any Baby Boomer knows that was “Anything Could Happen Day.”

This piece of information means little to anyone under seventy of course, but to my generation not privy to the wonders of Alexa and Instagram, “Anything Can Happen Day” meant mystery, excitement and something unique was about to enter our unsophisticated worlds.

For those of you who don’t remember and I’m sure you’re few, “Anything Can Happen Day” was the weekday on the Mickey Mouse Club when we could be surprised by a guest, adventure or anything out of the ordinary.

The other days we pretty much knew what to expect. Monday was “Fun With Music” Tuesday was the guest star, Thursday was “Circus” and Friday was “Talent Round Up.” We were also treated to serials like Spin and Marty, Corky and White Shadow, Annette, The Hardy Boys, all shows we anticipated and watched faithfully? Okay, why?

Was it merely because we secretly longed to be Mouseketeers or Meesketeers like Cubby and Karen? Were the Mooseketeers, Roy and Jimmy with his “mouseguitar” so appealing? Beats me, but I’d love to hear some thoughts and opinions about why we were so dedicated to those mouse ears.

As you probably guessed I have some theories or I wouldn’t have brought this up in the first place.

I think it was partly the thrill of belonging to something that was not only featured on that great new innovation that possessed us called television, but also that these kids were our age.

Our worlds back in the fifties were very small and protected. Most families had one car and we walked to school. Our friends were in our own neighborhoods and within walking distance, which is why we socialized with kids on our block.

Suddenly there was this new great invention that took us to worlds far away with people outside our sphere.

We became interested in their lives and adventures and felt a part of some strange new unique planet we could reach by simply turning a knob.

The Mickey Mouse ears were a symbol of something beyond ourselves and outside our comfort zones that made us feel energized and curious.

We were joiners back then, Soupy Sales had his Birdbath Club with its membership card and we could also buy and wear our own mouse ears.

We were cub, brownies, girl and boy scouts and this belonging seemed to come natural to us.

The delight in the assurance the world was far larger than our small corner made us hunger for more.

After we outgrew the Mouse, and I’m not certain we ever really did because Disney has remained a big part of all our lives, it was all about American Bandstand.

We rushed home from school to watch ABC’s daily dose of teen addiction as all the regulars danced their way through the show. There was a guest singing and chatting with Dick Clark or as I refer to him, the Dorian Gray of our generation. That man never aged and although he was a nice man I’m sure he had a picture in the attic somewhere that was growing old while he stayed young.

Just like the Mickey Mouse years we reveled in the feeling of being a part of the Bandstand phenomenon and bought magazines to keep up with the lives of regulars like Pat Molittieri, Justine Carrelli, Bob Clayton, Arlene Sullivan, Kenny Rossi and Carole Scaldeferri.

Wow! I’m freaking out right now that I remembered those names without having to look them up. Please don’t ask me what I had for lunch yesterday but fifty years ago, no problem. Actually the sixties are much clearer to me now than when I lived them.

But I digress.

What does it say about our generation that we were so willing to leap on the bandwagon and embrace Howdy Doody, Soupy, Micky and Bandstand?

Can we judge it as negative or was it truly one of the most positive things we ever encountered?

Okay, I’m going with positive here and not just because all my readers know how I feel about Black Tooth and White Fang.

Those early shows actually shaped our characters more than we knew and the lessons were subliminally woven through the fabric of our lives.

First, we became eager participants in society. Our experiences with these shows or the clubs they offered were positive reinforcement for the importance of being a part of something greater that existed outside oneself.

Second, it provided a better sense of the vastness of the universe. Our worlds were small and contained, but we were suddenly able to travel to distant lands and observe places that offered us new adventures in addition to reading. Sure, we had the cardboard spaceship of Flash Gordon, but no one was buying that whole flying-through-space-on-that-primitive- paper-cutout were they?

Third, it taught us that knowledge could be obtained anywhere. Outside of the schoolroom we continued to learn and grow as individuals.

And perhaps one of the most hidden and obscure subliminal messages came from Clarabell, Howdy’s favorite clown. No, I haven’t lost what’s left of my mind. Although he could only honk his horn to converse we realized that speech isn’t the only path to understanding and communication, and often we need to listen with our ears, instincts and at times our hearts.

We also discovered that “Anything Can Happen Day” is not only a metaphor for life because each day is unknown, but something we should embrace and if we’re open to the unexpected many amazing journeys await us.

There was nothing overt about these lessons and they seeped into our souls without our awareness they’d found a home. Yet they colored our lives, helped create the people we became and still today remain part of whom we are.

So by now you’re wondering how COVID-19 enters into this discussion. Well sadly it seems to have brought us full circle.

All the lessons of our childhoods that propelled us out into the world to travel, socialize and absorb are now stifled by this horrible invader that has us locked down. Once again we are watchers in front of the television and sadly at a time when most of us are free and able to move about in the world.

Okay, so it’s a flat screen nowadays and a great deal larger than the twelve-inch RCA black and white, but we’ve returned to living vicariously once again.

We must be content with travelogues instead of that trip to Tuscany we planned. We watch that chef prepare his special lobster bisque instead of visiting his restaurant in New York to taste it first hand.

We watch the Disney channel to keep up with our grandchildren’s favorite new shows, talk about coming full circle that damn mouse never left.

Sure, we’re back in front of the television again and of course there are far more options than the couple of channels we had as kids, but we’re prohibited from socializing, traveling or seeking those adventures we were programmed to undertake and embrace.

So life has changed and I know I’m not the only one anxious to get back out and live.

So please Clarabell, honk your horn for a cure for COVID so we can hear, see, love, live and engage without the need for Netflix.

Spaghetti Pie

1 generous serving of spaghetti cooked

2 eggs

1 cup of grated Parmesan cheese

1 cup of spaghetti sauce

6 Meatballs broken up

1 cup of shredded mozzarella cheese

1-8 ounce package of cream cheese

1 tablespoon of chives dried or fresh

1 tablespoon of olive oil

Salt and pepper

Place your cooked spaghetti in a bowl and add Parmesan cheese and 2 eggs and mix together well. Spray a 10-inch pie pan and place spaghetti inside pushing it up the sides to form a piecrust.

Place in a 350 degree oven and cook for 10 minutes until partially set. Set aside

Mix together your cream cheese and chives.

Scatter meatballs in a layer over spaghetti crust. Cover with a layer of sauce. Dollop the cream cheese on top and sprinkle some mozzarella cheese on top.

Roll out piecrust to fit over top of pie pan with enough to tuck edge of crust under rim.

Cut in pie slices and serve hot. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I Learned From Lunch With Soupy Sales

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What I Learned From Lunch With Soupy Sales

It wasn’t a fancy lunch at the Polo Lounge or Spago, but mostly peanut butter and jelly, lots of Jello that went boing, boing, boing or some tuna fish, but they were the best lunches I’ve ever had. The menu for the next day’s lunch was posted on the blackboard so we could entreat our mother to provide it as well.

I’ve been really fortunate in my life to meet and dine with some pretty incredible people, but I’ll take my memories with Soupy Sales, White Fang, Black Tooth, Willie da Worm, and Pookie over anything. The knowledge I gleaned from the words of wisdom written on the blackboard under the title Soupy Sez were invaluable. Such gems as; “Be true to your teeth or they’ll be false to you,” “Over the teeth and through the gums, look out stomach here it comes,” “When a man writes a song in his automobile, it’s called a cartoon,” “You show me a man who puts his parakeet in the blender and I’ll show you a man who makes shredded tweet,” “Birds are really something to crow about, but a bird in the hand can be a mess,” “Show me a woman who has misplaced her handbag and I’ll show you a tote-all loss,” “Show me a novel caught in a wind storm and I’ll show you a book gone with the wind,” or “Show me a midget king and I’ll show you a twelve-inch ruler.”

Or such informational weather reports on his ancient radio as, “there will be a volcano eruption today so for your own safety learn the words to lava come back to me.”

Add to that learning to dance The Mouse and the Soupy Shuffle and our aerobics were included with lunch.

It wasn’t just learning the skill of taking a pie to the face or being made aware how careful you need to be before opening a door unless you knew the pointed finger or arm waiting on the other side, and in later years a celebrity waiting to get a pie in the face, but the interaction between friends that taught me so much. The pranks, including one infamous time Soupy opened the door to a naked woman we never saw as he fell apart, are still part of the show’s mystique.

Of course White Fang and Black Tooth were the experts at getting one’s point across without the use of intellectual phrases or complex sentences. Just a few shakes of the paw and a couple of familiar grunts were all I needed to get the message and laugh uncontrollably. Their grunts far exceeded the words of most politicians today. To this day an imitation of those two extremely vocal hounds can send me into fits of laughter. Perhaps I can credit them with my editing abilities. Thanks guys for jump starting my journalism career.

Of course Willie da Worm as Soupy called him, was a great life lesson as well. Prone to sneezing fits and health issues and the moniker of the sickest worm in all of Detroit, he made me wonder how many other sick worms there were in Motown. Now Willie would have to take  a COVID test. The way Soupy delivered his sympathetic offerings to the poor little ailing creature taught me true compassion. It’s one thing to offer empathy to another human being, but the idea of opening my heart to a worm, I have to confess it opened my eyes.

Or constantly telling Black Tooth, the biggest sweetest doggy in the United States, “don’t kiss” as Soupy attempted to untangle himself from her hugs or advising her to drink lots of milk because it gives the cows something to do.

I could double up in hysterics faster at a puppet hand that made noises than at people.

Now Pookie, that was one cute little lion. Always referring to Soupy as Boobie it’s no wonder I love cats so much. And that cat could scat like Ella Fitzgerald or put on a wig and sing like Petula Clark. Okay so maybe he sang pretty badly, but I was actually grateful something existed with a voice worse than mine.

White Fang, the biggest, meanest dog in the United States was not only nasty, but oh so clever and conniving. He never failed to put one over on Soupy. Guess it should have taught me to beware of cute dogs or good looking men with bad intentions.

The guys in the studio snickered at all the puns and bad jokes and sometimes you weren’t quite sure about what. So I also learned the meaning of an inside joke.

Between the insane news reports and future guest stars like Moshe Dyan Canon and Belly Savalas, it was non-stop insanity. Yet, more than anything from watching the interaction between Soupy and the gang, we noticed how Soupy, befuddled look on his face, actually listened. Maybe that’s where we learned how.

Yes, the humor was bad shtick and craziness was the order of the day, but we laughed and loved every minute. Half the humor we got, half not so much, but we heard the guys in the studio chuckling so we smiled along. The point is we had a side order of giggles with our lunch. It wasn’t politically correct and it didn’t have the artful banter of a Neil Simon, but it lightened our day. And after lunch we returned to school with a full stomach, a full heart and Soupy throwing us a big kiss.

Rustic Onion Galette

6 medium onions sliced

¼ cup of sliced leeks

1½ cups of heavy cream

1 small package (4 oz.) cream cheese

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

½ tea thyme

Pastry large enough for a tart shell puff or regular

½ stick of butter

Olive oil

Add olive oil and butter to frying pan and heat

Add onions, leeks and seasonings and sauté on medium heat until onions are just turning brown and beginning to caramelize. Add cream cheese and cream and continue cooking until cream reduces a little and cream cheese melts through well. Taste and add seasoning if necessary. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in microwave and add 1 tablespoon of flour. Mix together and add to cream mixture until thickened.

When done place on pastry and fold sides up leaving a small opening at the top. There is no wrong way to fold a galette just as long as all the sides are folded around the filling. It’s a perfect recipe to be creative. Place it in a 350-degree oven for 30 minutes or until pastry is cooked.

You may also use this recipe for tiny tarts for hors d’oeuvres or add mushrooms to onion sauté and extra half and half or milk and make a delicious soup. Also great with some goat cheese or Gruyere sprinkled on top when warm.