Mark Kausler’s CatBlog

Don’t Kiss

Hello Readers, this week I’m doing a little tribute to a man who lit up my childhood in St. Louis many times via his Detroit program in the 1950s and his Los Angeles programs of 1962 and 1979. Soupy Sales has gone on to entertain in heaven, he left us Oct. 22nd at the age of 83. But first, the comics!

Krazy is from 12/18 to 12/23/1939. Offissa Pupp is ever vigilant in his anti-brick campaign, using his usual weapon, the Jail , and a phalanx of alarm clocks in the 12/23. Ignatz refers to a “Juice Harp” in the 12/19 strip. This musical instrument, used a lot in jug bands and Mountain Music also went by the popular name, the “Jew’s Harp”. You can look it up.

Marvelous Mike, from 7/29 to 8/3/1957, reveals Mike to be way ahead of his time. He invents the interactive comic strip! From the mail that Bill Bell is getting from children, it looks like a smash. The syndicate prexy isn’t too happy so far, we’ll see what develops. I like the little personality touch in the 7/31, as Mike spells out “procrastinate” with his letter blocks. 8/1 and 8/2 are a little faint, because the microfilm was so dark that I thought I would try to lighten the strips so they would read better. That’s a whole string of mailmen in the 8/1, bringing in sacks of mail to the Famous Features office.

Felix is from 7/6 to 7/12/1936 this time. Felix continues to attempt to “live” with the Dooit family. Socky the bodyguard and Snobbs the butler try to make life difficult, but Felix always makes the adjustment. A running theme in the strip is the ingratitude of Felix’s “owners”. When Felix does something good for them, they lavish him with milk and sardines, but as soon as a few days elapse, they try to get rid of him again.

Losing Soupy Sales is like losing a good friend. Strange that I think of him as a friend, since I only “met” him one time, in 2006 at his Walk of Fame ceremony (that’s Soupy with Johnny Grant, the ‘Mayor’ of Hollywood in the photo up there). I was so happy just to be able to see him, it was pouring down rain that day, but the faithful were there, and Johnny Grant caught a pie in the face. Soupy couldn’t talk except to say, “I thank you from the bottom of my heart”, in a strangulated whisper. In our house, in 1962, Soupy’s Los Angeles show came in on Channel Seven. Soupy had something more than jokes, pies and puppets. He had CHARISMA, he could look at you through the TV camera lens and make you feel like you were a part of his world. That’s where the friendliness comes in. His slight North Carolina accent made him seem a bit cornpone, but he was fast and witty. It’s interesting that Soupy was really closer to my parent’s generation than mine, he was born in 1926 (nee: Milton Supman), and served in the Navy during World War Two. Yet, he projected such a youthful vibrancy and enthusiasm, us “youts” accepted him as a “kid”. He could de-fuse a joke that bombed by saying “Well, let’s look at it this way,” and make a funny face. Or, he would launch into a fast dance called “The Soupy Shuffle”, which, as Mom pointed out, was a new version of a dance called the “Flea Hop” which was big in the 1920s. My Dad was never a man to suffer fools gladly, and my brother and I were often the fools, but Soupy could make him double up with laughter. When White Fang would get really vicious after a bad joke and pummel Soupy with pies to the sound of rifle shots, that did it! The more pies that flew, the funnier the show became. Of course, the show was really Nebbish comedy. Soupy got no respect from anybody, the crew, White Fang, Black Tooth, Pookie, Peaches, Herbie the Elephant Man or Spanky (from an old film clip). Clyde Adler and later, Frank Nastasi, were the offscreen tormentors that doused Soupy with water, put ice down his back, blew him up with firecrackers and of course, pummeled him with pastry. Clyde Adler was the puppeteer and voice man in 1962, my greatest year of Soupy “awareness”, and his delivery was spot on. The sneering disrespect in his voice, in any of his many roles on the show, always just as a pair of hands at the door, or hands hidden in “dog mittens”, created sympathy for the top banana. Clyde’s voice for White Fang was loud, inquisitive, and occasionally tearful, when Soupy tried to take his beloved fire hydrant away. When White Fang threw a pie, he snarled really loud, and the loud rifle shot of the pie made me think of a dog bite. There was a “monster” subtext to the show, the dogs were monsters, and even the little lion puppet, Pookie, could be a little monstrous himself. “These are the jokes, laugh it up”, Pookie would declare. Pook originally just whistled, then Adler came up with a tiny, slightly sneering voice for him, and his personality bloomed. It’s interesting to compare Soupy’s attitude toward puppets to other host/puppet shows of the 1950s and 1960s, Bob Smith and Howdy Doody had a very loving relationship, and even the villains on the show, like Mr. Bluster, never really got too monstrous. Burr Tilstrom, Fran Allison, Kukla and Oliver Dragon were the most gentle of the puppet shows. (Soupy actually replaced them in the summer of 1955 on ABC. I wonder what Burr Tillstrom thought of THAT!?) Fran Allison always had a very warm interaction with the puppets, their “villain” was Bulah Witch, and she was a complete incompetent, but a charming one. Oliver Dragon could look a bit like a monster, but he was really a cuddly dragon with only one tooth. Shari Lewis and Lamb Chop were a little sharper in the comebacks, but that was the late 1950s. Soupy had a more casual, matter-of-fact interaction with Pookie and the Dogs. I never got to see Willie the Worm from the Detroit shows, but he was reported to have been a unique character as well. Soupy would kiss Pookie across the puppet stage, often to the lion’s disgust, as he would spit right after the kiss. Sometimes the kisses were very lengthy and loving, the puppet’s rubber head getting mashed in the process. When Pookie took a pie in the face, it was the most visually hilarious of all the pie gags. Imagine a little hand puppet, completely covered in gooey shaving cream, mane frazzed out to all compass points, indignant, and trembling with rage! The fact that most of the larger puppets, like the dogs, were never seen on camera, let the viewer’s imagination fill in the void. The White Fang of my imagination was a 20 foot tall dog with a wolf-like head full of teeth. My Black Tooth looked like a tall, canine Effie Clinker (if you remember your Bergen). My Dad and I would often “talk” to each other in Fang and Tooth squawks. Soupy’s pie throwing became a big fad, my friend Elliot (Gibbons, from the 8th grade) and I threw pies made out of old oatmeal at each other at school. Elliot often drew pictures of Black Tooth’s arm throwing a pie: What memories! White Fang was part of the Soupy gang as far back as 1952, as this clipping from Radio-TV Mirror reveals: This article describes Soupy’s 1952 radio show in Cleveland, when he was known as “Soupy Hines”. This article, from TV-Radio Mirror (note the switch) from 1955 covers a later Soupy on Detroit TV when he changed his name to “Sales”: It’s hard to believe he was ever that young. You can read a lot more about the early history of Soupy and Clyde Adler over on www.detroitkidshow.com. It’s interesting that the talented Mr. Adler didn’t do much performing outside of the “Soupy Sales Show”. His voice was so funny and forceful, he should have at least done cartoon voices. However, he preferred to be a film editor in Detroit, when Soupy wasn’t doing his regular show on TV. Clyde chose not to do the New York 1965 show. That’s why there are two “camps” of Soupy fans, those who like Clyde’s version of the puppets, and those who like Frank Nastasi’s more squeaky and nasal puppet voices. Nastasi was funny, though, and you can tell that Soupy really enjoyed working with him on the few kinescopes that are still around.

If you go to http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2009/10/23/remembering-soupy-sales/, you’ll be overwhelmed by the outpouring of love for this man and his old shows from many fans from all walks of life. Many of his old jokes and favorite “routines”, real or imaginary, are discussed on that blog. Soupy made it all look effortless, but a daily live TV show is and was a relentless grind. Here’s one of my favorite photos of Soupy at WNEW in 1965 from Life magazine, looking completely drained, as an assistant makes hot tea with honey in it for him:  Soupy smoked backstage to relieve the tension:  Outtakes are around on video from the KTLA 1979 show, revealing a driven comic, getting angry at himself for blowing a routine and using some “effen” strong language. Soupy’s live puppet-based shows usually only lasted for a few years at a time, Soupy needed to rest every once in awhile. By the time he did his last really good show, he was 53.

Looking back on his work, now, it all seems pretty remote. I love the friendly and silly slapstick of his programs, but comedy has changed. It’s now much more aggressive and coarse than Soupy’s show ever was. Of course, in a way, Soupy’s program was a more violent, faster paced version of the old TV puppet programs, which were fundamentally gentle. The show was aimed at a general audience, really, not just children. Have you ever seen Robert Homme’s “The Friendly Giant”? It’s about the coziest puppet show ever done, definitely wouldn’t have a chance on TV now.  The only puppet and live people show left is “Sesame Street”. It’s less gentle than the Giant, but there are no pies anywhere on the show, except where educationally appropriate.

Soupy, I will miss you, and the wonderful little off-stage world that you and your puppet brainchildren lived in. I will leave you in my mind as a happy man, on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, right outside the Hollywood Roosevelt, surrounded by your fans and wife Trudy:  You do dat, and we’ll love you and give you a big kiss! Oh, sorry, Don’t Kiss (That’s a Black Tooth bit)!