Thursday, February 21, 2008

Of Pies And Puppets

The hippest kid's show was on a Saturday afternoon. Yards would empty as we all rushed home in time to see it. This wasn't Sally Starr or Chief Halftown or even Gene London. No, Saturday afternoon was lunch time; Lunch Time With Soupy Sales.
Soupy was the cool show to watch. He told us old jokes at a frantic pace with his tongue in his cheek, winking at us the whole time. Soupy knew that everything he did was corny and silly, and he let us in on it.
I couldn't wait for White Fang and Black Tooth, the biggest dogs in the world who spoke in canine gibberish, their arms the only part of them we'd see. You knew that at the end of every skit with White Fang that Soupy would be slammed in the face with a pie, and that Black Tooth would pull him off-camera to smother him with loud, wet kisses. The whole time Soupy would be laughing and his crew would be laughing, Clyde Adler the puppeteer would be laughing, and we'd be laughing at how ridiculous it all was. For me and for everybody, it was one big inside joke that everyone could enjoy.
Soupy took the kids' show format and turned it upside down. He told jokes about celebrities that went way over our heads, but we could tell by the way he told them that something funny was going on.
He had puppets like a lot of other shows, but his were con artists and hipsters. White Fang was always trying to scam him out of money. Pookie the Lion would lip sing scat jazz, Motown and the blues, tell insult jokes and perform skits with Hippy the Hippo who never spoke at all.
A knock at the front door would bring all kinds of wacky visitors, and only their frantically waving hands would be seen.
Man at door: "You gotta help me! Oh, you gotta help me!"
Soupy: "Well, what's the matter?"
Man: "My wife thinks she's a chicken!"
Soupy; "So why don't you take her to a Psychiatrist?"
Man: "I would but we need the eggs!"
Soupy: "Get outta here!"
He had a pot belly stove in which husband and wife Hobart and Reba lived. They weren't seen, but they were heard.
Reba: "Show me a cow dressed in rags, and I'll show you a bum steer."
Hobart: "Cool it, Reba."
He had a Do Not Touch sign hanging by the front door. I'd wait and wait and finally he'd pull the plug out of the wall that the sign hung on, and water would come rushing out.
The Words of Wisdom board every week, just an excuse for another old pun.
" Show me an English policeman hitting someone, and I'll show you a Bobby socks."
"Now what do we mean by that?", Soupy would ask, and he'd explain away the tired old joke by eventually getting around to telling us that we should respect the police because they are our friends.
Of course it was the pies that made him famous. He would be slammed in the face, the back of the head, and both of his ears, by White Fang and Black Tooth and all the crazies who came knocking at his door. Celebrities would line up to be on his show just to be hit with a pie.
It was a cheesy set, tired old jokes, a frantic pace and a pie in the eye, and I loved it. America loved it.
No matter what we were doing on a Saturday, no matter how much fun we were having, we couldn't wait to answer the call.
"Hey kids, come on in, Soupy's on!"

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