Sunday, February 09, 2020

ORSON BEAN "I ATE THE BALONEY"



For once, Twitter provided some kind of "service." After Orson Bean was killed via two careless Los Angeles cars plowing into him as he was crossing a street, a variety of people tweeted about the vast variety of his work and talent. He touched a lot of people in his 60+ year career. People posted:  


He was Bilbo in the original Hobbit cartoon. I LOVED HIM
He will always be whimsical "Mr. Bevis" from that Twilight Zone episode.
He was on “To Tell the Truth” all the time, he was part of my childhood.
He was on “Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman”
He co-founded the “Laurel and Hardy Sons of the Desert” group
Barbra Streisand said he got her on TV for the first time
He wrote about the Orgone. He founded his own progressive school.
I saw him play Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol”
He was Breitbart’s father-in-law.
He co-starred on Broadway with Jayne Mansfield, that lucky dog!

What a fine Broadway musical comedy actor: "Subways Are For Sleeping" and "Ilya Darling"
Saw him on Carson’s show all the time. Nice guy and such a funny raconteur.

MAD magazine showed him making a paper eucalyptus tree -- he was a good magician!
Fantasy signed two comedians to their label: Lenny Bruce and Orson Bean.

It was gratifying that there were only a few assholes posting photos of Rowan Atkinson.

Orson was a charming, fascinating, intelligent man.  Most know that he was born Dallas Burrows, and he had a somewhat difficult New England childhood. His mother was pretty nuts, a drunk who was simply impossible to live with. The young man had to leave home and work his way through school — and deal with a suicide note that included a line about "my son won't visit me." He lost himself in the fantasy world of radio, comic strips, and magic tricks. He developed a comedy/magic act, and tried out a variety of opening lines. When none got much of a laugh, someone suggested that instead of "Hi, I'm Dallas Burrows..." he try to get the audience on his side by having a funny name. "Roger Duck" didn't get a laugh. "Orson Bean" did. (But not from Orson Welles, who somehow decided that this was some kind of insult, or some kind of attempt to gain fame at the expense of HIS famous first name!)

Orson was very spiritual in his own kooky way, which included the time he sailed a paper plane out his window in New York….and some time after…it wafted BACK through his own window. He felt the odds of this happening were astronomical and there had to be something religious about it. Same deal when he believed he could communicate with a butterfly. Out of the blue, he published "MAIL FOR MIKEY," which expressed his positive view of something beyond the beyond. 


For these reasons, it was especially sad and bewildering about his last moments on this Earth. Only a few months earlier, he was on stage doing his "Scrooge" routine for Mark Steyn's annual variety show (which you can see on YouTube). He had won great reviews for a one-man show of his anecdotes and magic. And only a week ago, he and his wife had finished a limited engagement at the local theater in Venice that they so generously supported. He was sharp as a tack, vivid and vital — and he got clobbered by two fucking idiot L.A. drivers who couldn't pay attention to the road or drive at a safe speed. 

From what I've read, Orson was on his way to that same Venice theater where he'd performed a week earlier. His wife was already waiting for him, and since he was as spry as a 91-year-old could be, she had no worries that she needed to hold hands with him to keep him safe. One expected him to have the grand passing of "surrounded by his wife and family," and going easily over to the other side; not violence. 

I was so impressed by the vitality of his recent stage appearances, I'd even put off writing a letter of congratulations -- why bother the guy, and surely he'd be doing even more shows in the future. 

Orson was so contemporary, he was even a "meme star." Playing Ebenezer Scrooge was something he enjoyed greatly, and he might've been known to more people under 40 for that, than for being Bilbo Baggins or that crusty ol' guy on the "Dr. Quinn" re-runs. On some of those "meme generator" websites, Scrooge was simply referred to as "The Angry Old Man." Pick your own "witty" comment that the geezer might say....



Since this is a music blog, there wasn't all that much to choose from in offering a sample of Orson Bean. "I Ate the Baloney," weak as it is, beats the dated Broadway stuff, such as “Strange Duet” from “Subways are for Sleeping,” or “Po Po Po” from “Ilya Darling” etc.) It shows what charm he could bring to weak material. 



In case anyone actually cares, “I Ate the Baloney” is the actual title on the 1926 sheet music but the song is also known as “The Baloney Song,” “The Three Dreams,” “I Ate the Boloney” and “Piece of Baloney.” On Orson’s album, it’s duly noted as an “old vaudeville song,” and not one of the original bits that made him a surprise hit when he tried stand-up in NYC in the 50's. Orson mentioned to me that while the atmosphere back then was sophisticated and even edgy (the new stars were Nichols and May, Mort Sahl and Shelley Berman), he had "no interest in being dour," and favored light-hearted material and eccentricity. One of his oddest bits was about a sailor arrested for having sex with an ostrich. The shaggy Aussie ostrich story had a typical bounce-off-the-Bean punchline: "Well, if I'd known you'd all make such a fuss, I'd have married the bird!"


"I Ate the Baloney" (which pretty much gives away the punchline) was in the vaudeville tradition of ethnic comedy. The trio vying for the slice were usually portayed as an Irishman, Italian and Jew, or (in Orson's version) two Irishmen and a Jew. While there's some vague antisemitism here, back then, every group got equal abuse. There were dialect comedians making fun of blacks, Italians, Scots, Germans, Poles, and every other spicy citizen diving into the Melting Pot. Over the years, the wiseguy who ate the baloney was often whatever ethnicity the singer was. Dick Nolan, from Newfoundland, recorded a popular vesion about “Two Irishman and a Newfie…” 


The original poem appears in “The Journal of American Folk-Lore” (1921). The sheet music credit goes to Harry Lee, and as “I Ate the Baloney” was popularized in 1926 by dialect comedians Billy Murray and Monroe Silver who handled the Italian, Irish and Jewish lines. The verse by Harry Lee was traditionally sung to the public domain “Pop Goes the Weasel,” which only makes things more annoying. And yet, as always, it works for Orson, who was a most kind, generous and charming man. 

I ATE THE BALONEY - Orson Bean - instant DL or listen online - no idiot Password, Paypal donation demand or spyware from Ydray or other weasels

ROBERT CONRAD, 84 - Hawaiian Eye - "You're Getting to be a Habit with Me"


From my slightly worn (got it second hand) copy of "Hawaiian Eye," below is Robert Conrad (born Conrad Falk, March 1, 1935 – February 8, 2020) singing "You're Getting to be a Habit With Me." 

He got to be a habit with TV fans for decades, basically playing himself in different names or costumes. He was on series after series, the most popular including "Baa Baa Black Sheep" and "Wild Wild West." The vague Chicago accent was always there, as was his particular brand of TV cool, which involved a pugnacious indifference to most everyone. No wonder he once starred in a much-parodied commercial: "Go on, a dare ya to knock this battery off my shoulder." 

He was just what you thought he was. A cocky guy who seemed to enjoy taking down guys taller than he was (he was 5'8"), he was always up for a challenge on the set, including doing his own stunts whenever possible. His brand of self-confidence meant that he didn't throw himself at the ladies; he expected them to either make the first move, or reach for his cock as soon as he cocked his eye. In real life, he was quite a family man, married to his first wife for 25 years (and five children) and then adding three more kids via his second marriage. 

It was an odd trait of most TV heroes of his generation; show a certain "take it or leave it" disdain. Robert Vaughn and Gene Barry almost seemed nauseated by all the fawning and flirting they had to endure. Steve McQueen was more stoic, while Robert Stack and Craig Stevens figured they were the best studs available. It was somewhat rare for a TV cowboy or detective to need to be a "charmer," and rely on wit, personality or the bribe of a classy dinner and champagne on ice. Singing was also not required. Very few of the era's stars bothered to make even one record (Hugh O'Brian,  Edd Byrnes, Gene Barry, etc.) and rarely were invited to do another (Vincent Edwards, Richard Chamberlain, Pernell Roberts...) 

Robert Conrad only had one song on the "Hawaiian Eye" soundtrack. By the time of "Wild Wild West," the guy who sang most often on the show was guest-star Michael Dunn. The theme songs on so many of these shows were pretty terrible, weren't they? Over at Warner Bros., there was almost a formula to them: say the name of the show OVER and OVER, and do it as obnoxiously as possible: "77 Sunset Strip," "Bourbon Street Beat," "Surfside Six," "Hawaiian Eye...." all lousy. 

One of his last series attempts was "A Man Called Sloane" in 1979, and his last major film was "Jingle All the Way" in 1996. Fans still loved him, and the old re-runs, and he turned up with his own talk radio show in 2008, which continued for ten years. For one reason or another — probably "Wild Wild West" for most people, Bob Conrad remains a "habit," even if the song below is just one of those, "say, he sings ok" items. 

You're Getting to be a Habit With Me - instant download, listen on line, NO dodgy-creepy websites run by foreign thugs, NO Paypal donation request, NO dopey password