Which person comes to mind when you read “Idol of popular music lovers throughout America”?
Admittedly, the phrase has a certain archaic sound to it. But even so: Elvis Presley? Bing Crosby? Benny Goodman? Glenn Miller?
No, it’s EDDIE CONDON!
I’ve been posting about the fabled Eddie Condon Floor Show for some time now. My friend Rob Rothberg — who has a fabulous collection of what Ebay calls “entertainment memorabilia” — generously sent along copies of what appears below. Circa 1949, it appears to be a prospectus for the program, an effort to find a sponsor (cash bulging out of corporate pockets) so that the show could stay on the air. I assume that the booklet was the creation of Ernie Anderson, but I am sure that Phyllis Condon and Paul Smith, her brother, made some contributions; both of them worked for advertising agencies.
Although the Condons had a dog, whose name escapes me as I write this, I find it difficult to envision Eddie or perhaps Joe Bushkin telling everyone how Ken-L-Ration made for bright eyes and a healthy coat. Or Tide detergent. But stranger things have happened. Some jazz fans will remember the radio and television commercials Louis did for Schaefer and Rheingold beers and Fords — why else would I hear his voice ringing out, “You’re ahead in a Ford / All the way!” some forty-five years later?
The prospectus didn’t succeed, but here are pictures and text:
Condon and Sidney Bechet, of course.
Looking off (handsomely) to the mysterious East, where the sponsors ride over the mountains in expensive suits:
You see I didn’t invent this enthusiastic prose.
That camera makes me think of the NBC peacock — spreading its animated self as a totem of “living color” even when most viewers saw it in black and white.
I didn’t know that “the proverbial duck” also played tenor guitar, but no matter.
These photos are more familiar; they surfaced in Hank O’Neal’s EDDIE CONDON’S SCRAPBOOK OF JAZZ, a wonderful book.
It’s an interesting mix of “jazz” and “popular” — Condon recognized talented musicians, however they might have defined themselves. I wonder, however, what songs Frankie Carle played when he appeared.
A cherubic Billy Butterfield, a pleased Joe Bushkin — sixty years ago, when newspapers paid attention to jazz.
That’s a dramatic art photo — Gene Krupa and Roy Eldridge framed by the bent wood of the chair. And, to the left is an easel. Was this the program on which Mischa Reznikoff (husband of photographer Genevieve Naylor) sketched while the musicians improvised?
Here comes the hard sell . . .
Oh, how I wish this prospectus had appealed to some firm — Proctor and Gamble, say. Then, instead of watching BONANZA on Sunday nights, we could have seen Cutty Cutshall and Pee Wee Russell.
I think that Virgil Thompson was praising the Town Hall concert series, but the sentiments remained true.
The VOA transcriptions might be the source for the audio portions of the Floor Show that survive.
Ernie Caceres to the left, Peanuts Hucko, Bushkin, Butterfield . . .
Alas, it didn’t work. But Condon’s career didn’t end when the show did, and he kept playing and organizing bands into the early Seventies, when I got to see him in action — a subject for another post. Right now, let us remember the time and place when it was possible to have such high art on nationwide television, with or without a sponsor.