November 5, 2004 by s.z.

And Speaking of the Garbage That's In Soap Operas . . . Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of long-time World O'Crap reader Ivan's blog, Thrilling Days of Yesteryear.  It's about noir movies, classic comedies of film and TV, and especially old-time radio.  So, in its honor, we bring you one of our early posts (September 2003, a simpler time), based on an old advertising  cookbook we found at the thrift store, which in turn made use of the title character of a popular radio soap opera of the past. Aunt Jenny, the Go-To Gal of Littleton "Aunt Jenny's Real Life Stories" was a soap opera which played on the radio from 1937-56.  The people of the town of Littleton would have problems, then Aunt Jenny would gossip about them with the narrator, and then talk about how Spry could have made things better.  I couldn't actually locate the episode of "Aunt Jenny's Real Life Stories" that went along with Baking Power Biscuits that we used in constructing Magic Meat Pie, but I did discover that if you go here (Yummy Spry Doughnuts), you not only get Jenny's doughnut recipe and her threat ("I can make you a better cook. An' I mean YOU.  Yes, you, Martha Stewart!"), but also a link at the bottom of the page to a 90-second radio ad from Jenny's show.  In the spot, Aunt Jenny is NOT the drawling hayseed depicted in "Aunt Jenny's Favorite Recipes," but sounds instead like an aged Mrs. Drysdale.  The narrator urges her to share her secret for broiling fish (FYI: the secret is to brush the fillets with Spry).  Petunia, Littleton's only black resident, says, "Ummm-mmm!  It sure do sound lip-smackin' good!"  Then the narrator acknowledges the world-wide shortage of Spry (presumably caused by an international gang of Spry thieves), but urges you to "keep Spry on your marketing list until you do get it," because of its unsurpassed blandness (essential to the taste of Magic Meat Pie).   I guess he'd let you take it off your list now, though. Shedding additional light on Aunt Jenny and her Spry-empire, investigative Reporter and WO'C reader Ivan uncovered a 1948 Spry radio spot which includes a catchy jingle ("Rely on Spry, S-P-R-Y!"), and an announcer discussing Spry's classified "Cake Improver Secret!"  Jenny, who evidently was suspected of working for the Nazis at this time, couldn't be trusted with the secret and so was not part of this commercial. I also learned that Richard Widmark made his acting debut on Aunt Jenny's radio program in 1938.  Strange but true.  Oh, and here's a 1939 radio program listing: 10:45 AM: "Aunt Jenny's Real Life Stories" -- Spry Shortening.  The story: Molly married Chris Johnson only after her true love, Bill Crawford, disappeared after an airplane crash in South America.  Then Bill returned.  Tomorrow: What did Molly do? So, with all this background, I bring you my reconstruction of the story behind the biscuits.  I call it. . . Kiss of Spry We start with an organ playing the Aunt Jenny theme-song, "Believe Me if All Those Endearing Young Charms," while we watch a tin of Spry spin round and round, making the comical Spry Chef on the label seem to be tosing a pie at his own backside. We fade into a cluttered parlor furnished in Victorian style, complete with doilies, antimacassars, and antiballistic missiles.  A young woman dressed in the height of 1940s fashion (a macrame plant hanger around her neck, her hair stylishly wrapped around toilet paper tubes), is sipping invisible tea with a middle-aged woman with glasses and Sears-bought dentures, dressed in a paisley gown designed by Peter Max.  The younger woman (we'll call her Molly) is clearly troubled, and confides, "Oh, Jenny, I'm so fed up on all those jokes about bride's biscuits.  Ever since I married Chris, because my true love Bill Crawford disappeared after an airplane crash in South America and I needed a father for my unborn child, all his mother can do is make jokes about my cooking!  My father is the town's evil bank president, and so I grew up in luxury, never learning to clean, or sew, or make biscuits, and Mother Johnson won't let me forget it!  I'll 'bride biscuit HER, the old biddy.  And I know she's the one spreading those rumors about me having toilet paper rolls in my hair!" The older woman, Aunt Jenny, says kindly, "An' there's not a word of truth in 'em.  Besides, now, anyone can make good biscuits--or can buy them from Petunia's bakery, which is a heck of a lot easier.  And you can also easily end those 'Bride's Biscuits' remarks -- just follow this Spry receipt carefully an' you'll see!" Molly takes the folded piece of paper, reads it with apparent shock, and exclaims, "But, but . . .this paper says, 'Take a 3-pound can of Spry.  Grease Old Woman Johnson's back stairs with it.  Then call that nice young gangster, Richard Widmark, and hire him to push her wheelchair down the stairs.' Jenny, what does this mean?!?" Jenny's eyes twinkle as she explains, "Land sakes, Molly, if you want people to stop carpin' at you, you have to be willin' to take action.  Me an' Calvin have an ideal marriage ever since I banged him on the head with a large, economy-sized can of Spry, causing severe brain damage, after he complained about my pie crust once too often." Young Molly mulls this over, her large hands gripping the fragile teacup a bit too tightly as she thinks about her various problems.  "You may be right about Mother Johnson, but what I really wanted to talk to you about is my love life.  For you see . . . my true love Bill is still alive, and has returned from the jungle with a fortune in uranium!  He doesn't know that little Bobby is really his son, and that I married Chris only to escape the scandal of being [pregnant pause] . . .a pregnant girl with large paws.  But I . . .I still love Bill, now that he's rich and alive and stuff, even though I am married to Chris.  Whatever shall I do?" Aunt Jenny's face puckers in concentration as she thinks of some words of guidance for her young visitor.  Finally she says, "Well, I think I'll need to sleep on this one, since our 15 minutes are over.  But I can tell you right now, if you follow my biscuit recipe and use only 1/3 cup of milk, you would have a mighty hard, dense biscuit.  The kind of thing that could bludgeon a man to death, leaving his widow free to marry somebody else.  Think it over and we'll talk some more tomorrow." "Oh, and I want to tell all my listeners that Mr. Hitler is the kind of friend America needs right now, so we shouldn't get involved in his little tiff with Poland.  And I hear he likes cake, and is stockin' up on pure, white, bland, Aryan Spry, which proves that he can be trusted." Then, the organ theme returns, the narrator reminds us to tune in tomorrow and to buy plenty of Spry where you work or bank.  And our Aunt Jenny Real Life Story for today is at an end. 3:06:30 AM

Who Said It? Yes, yesterday's mystery guest was the ever-gracious Ann Coulter, whose column derides Karl Rove for making the campaigning George Bush talk about things like jobs and education when what REALLY gets the votes is gay bashing and abortion banning. Now, who said THIS? They're doing their best to suggest that the president won this election because the majority of Americans who voted for [him are] bigots, homophobes, and anti-gay. [...]  But they're misreading this on purpose. The real moral question, I think, centered around mostly things like the trash that the people see on TV every afternoon, not just at night. I think, when you get outside of the media capitals, New York and Los Angeles, San Francisco, the east coast liberal establishments, and you get out there into the red states, you'll find a total objection to the kind of garbage that's on Oprah some days, you'll find a total objection to the garbage that's in soap operas. Some people say it's soft porn. So, a vote for Bush was really a vote against Oprah and "All My Children." UPDATE: Okay, this one is kind of hard to identify without any context, so here's the very first paragraph of it, plus the graphic that illustrates the premise (caption in original): Ladies and gentlemen, yesterday, today, keep a sharp eye on this, the press and the Democrats, the Democratic Party, is attempting to say that the president won the election for one reason. What is it, Mr. Snerdley? No, it is moral, but there's a subset of moral values -- that's right, gay marriage. 2:12:36 AM

Deep Thoughts, by Peggy Noonan From TBogg we learned the glad tiding that Peggy had finished her stay at Happy Acres and was back to writing columns for The Wall Street Journal.  So, it's time for the return of one of our most popular regular features (in that we like it, because we always laugh out loud at the Jack Handey sayings, and some of Peggy's as well). So, as usual we've taken a quote from Peggy's column (they're the ones in maroon) and paired it up with an authentic "Deep Thought" by Jack Handey (in blue).  Once again, we have to say that we feel that Peggy is probably violating some copyright by encroaching on Jack's shtick this way, but we suppose her excuse is that she isn't really copying him at all, since she is trying to be serious here. The leaders of the Bush effort see it this way: A ragtag band of more than a million Republican volunteers who fought like Washington's troops at Valley Forge beat the paid Hessians of King George III's army. Savor. It's funny that pirates were always going around searching for treasure, and they never realized that the real treasure was the fond memories they were creating. I told some young people recently who were walking into a battle, "Here's how to fight: You fight until they kill you, until they kill you and stop your heart, and then you let them carry you out of the room. But you fight until they carry." Even though he was an enemy of mine, I had to admit that what he had accomplished was a brilliant piece of strategy. First, he punched me, then he kicked me, then he punched me again.     And now the president is speaking. He looks tired and happy. He looks as if the lines on his forehead are deeper. Maybe it's the lighting.  There are many stages to a man's life. In the first stage, he is young and eager, like a beaver. In the second stage, he wants to build things, like dams, and maybe chew down some trees. In the third stage, he feels trapped, and then "skinned." I'm not sure what the fourth stage is.  God bless the pajama-clad yeomen of America. Some day, when America is hit again, and lines go down, and media are hard to get, these bloggers and site runners and independent Internetters of all sorts will find a way to file, and get their word out, and it will be part of the saving of our country. Perhaps, if I am very lucky, the feeble efforts of my lifetime will someday be noticed, and maybe, in some small way, they will be acknowledged as the greatest works of genius ever created by Man.  You could not come away from their white-haired, soft-faced, big-eyeglasses visages without thinking: He should not be commander in chief. Worship the potato? The idea seemed silly to me. But then I thought, what else is more deserving of worship? It's simple, it comes from the Earth, and it can kill you if you disobey it.     And that's "Deep Thoughts" for this week.  We'd like to thank Peggy for making this feature possible, and hope she manages not to relapse until at least after Christmas. 1:02:25 AM