I think I'm going to try to post a lot more at the HP. It's fun.
I did about a half hour of deep dive into the name and address listed on the cover of this TV Guide. I found the house in Rockland, Maine, where it was delivered. I found a preacher/author/publisher in Rockland with the same last name, who may or may not, of course, have been connected to the people. This fella has written a good bit about Universalists in Maine, and, indeed, the house where this TV Guide was delivered is just up Broadway/U.S. 1-A from a Universalist church. In its Google Maps picture, you can see several hand-printed signs in front of the church, along the street:
UB BRAVE
Rise Up in spite of the Ache
We Work For Justice
Rise UP
Don't Agonize/ORGANIZE
Well, whoever it was who lived in this house and paid for this TV Guide that my wife purchased for me off eBay, thank you. And thank you, Wife, for I sure enjoy flipping through it.
Here's what was on TV this Wednesday, Oct. 30, 1974, in Rockland, Maine.
Comments flow ...
If you click on the pictures, it pops out the JPEGs to be big enough to read the little show descriptions.
ReplyDeleteHere's Hazel Shermet, talking acting choices in her voicing of Henrietta Hippo for New Zoo Revue.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure I've mentioned this 10 times at the HP, but I go to church with a woman in Madisonville who worked in youth ministry at a Las Vegas church with some of the people who created New Zoo Revue.
For my money, the Name That Tune "Golden Medley" segment is the most exciting segment of game-show history. There's something about the offset of easy-listening sendups of popular hits and the urgency of the clock and the terrific graphics. Plus, Tom Kennedy of Louisville, Kentucky, is always, ALWAYS pitch perfect and authentic in his excitement with the moment--never fake cool, never fake hot. I love him.
ReplyDeleteInteresting. This Name That Tune airing in Maine at 10 on a Wednesday morning would not have involved Tom Kennedy, however. Thank you, Wikipedia, for setting me straight:
ReplyDeleteTwo daytime Name That Tune series were broadcast by NBC in the 1970s. The first ran from July 29, 1974, to January 3, 1975, with Dennis James hosting; while the second was broadcast from January 3 to June 10, 1977, and was hosted by Tom Kennedy. Both series were lower-paying editions of the concurrent syndicated series and were both produced by Ralph Edwards.
Wikipedia ... so fantastic ...
DeleteUnfortunately for James's career in his last season as host of the weekly Price is Right sometime in the 1976-77 season, when the Cliff Hangers game was played and (lost) on a syndicated night-time episode, the contestant playing the game lost when the mountain climber tumbled over the cliff, which prompted James to shout out "There Goes Fritz!". He was not aware of the heartbreaking personal crisis that model Janice Pennington was facing as her then-husband Fritz Stammberger had then recently vanished while mountain climbing in Afghanistan. Pennington, devastated and distraught by James's comment, ran off and remained backstage crying for the rest of the episode. Because of this incident, some fans later speculated that James's blunder was what led to him being dismissed from his hosting duties in 1977 when Bob Barker took over until its cancellation in 1980; however, the real reason for James's departure was that his five-year contract with the show had expired in 1977 and was not renewed, in favor of Barker.
YouTube's Tattletales inventory is impressive.
ReplyDeleteBut from among the plethora of available episodes, here's one from at least the same week of this one shown in Maine on Oct. 30. It's ridiculous how happy this discovery has made me.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to take a short break, and then I'm coming back to lay down some high-tech, B2B-comms love to a half-hour of Bert Convy and friends to close out this week
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of Watergate, here are the commercials that NBC showed during its evening-long coverage of President Nixon's resignation announcement. I love the internet.
ReplyDeleteI am, in fact, a bit of an Aqua Velva man myself.
ReplyDeleteJimmy the Greek is one of the guests on Mike Douglas this afternoon. Here’s some of his syndicated “King of Odds” column in the Oct. 1, 1974, Tampa Times:
ReplyDeleteThe name of the game, halfway through the National Football Conference season, is “wild card.” Each of the three divisional racs has the appearance of a lock. You could parlay St. Louis, Minnesota and Los Angeles as No. 1’s and get no better than 1 to 2. But what a scramble for the open playoff berth!
There are six teams from the East and Central divisions with 4-3 or 3-4 records who like their chances to dip into the post-season gravy. But on all counts, including schedule and momentum, the raace shapes up as a stretch duel favoring Dallas, with Philadelphia and Detroit the co-second choices.
… If this were a horse race for a wild card, I’d make it Dallas 5-2, Detroit 7-2, Philadelphia 7-2, Washington 5-1, Green Bay 6-1, Chicago 8-1.
What Wasn't On TV Today (1974) was the heavyweight championship fight in Kinshasa. Fortunately for us, George Plimpton was (famously) there, and here's how he opened his story in the Nov. 11, 1974, Sports Illustrated: "It is hard to imagine what the extraordinary events in the predawn hours under a pale African moon in Zaire are going to do to the future of boxing. Kids who for years in the backlots of the world have emulated the flamboyant and graceful style of their idol, Muhammad Ali, the butterfly who floats and stings like a bee, will now imagine themselves coming off their stools and standing stolidly and flat-footed in the corner of the ring, or, more extreme, lolling back against the ropes, their upper torsos out over the press-row typewriters at the angle of someone looking out his window to see if there’s a cat on his roof. For such were the Ali tactics that surprised everyone—including the men in his own corner—and proved insoluable to George Foreman, the heavily favored heavyweight champion, leading him to destruction as surely as the big cartoon wolf, licking his chops, is tricked into some extravagantly ghastly trap laid by a sly mouse."
ReplyDeleteI don't feel well enough versed in the history of Sports Illustrated to know whether 1974 SI was peak SI. But it's pretty darned high.