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A Writer's Web Corner    John Achor

THE GOLDEN AGE OF RADIO . . . AND BOX TOPS!

Do you remember when radio was king? It was not only king, radio was virtually the only in-home entertainment. Come with us to those thrilling days of yesteryear ... out of the past come the thundering hoof beats of ... Whoa! Great show, but not among those I really remember.

I can still hear Clayton Moore as the Lone Ranger, but those were typically self-contained episodes. The ones that really grabbed me were the continued, serial types. The names that stand out in my memory are ones like Captain Midnight . . . Little Orphan Annie . . . Tom Mix . . . Terry and the Pirates . . . and Jack Armstrong, the Allllll AMERIcan Boy! These were the heroes that drew me to the radio around four-thirty each and every afternoon. A new hero each quarter hour until 6 p.m., when something dumb--like the news--came on. Fifteen minutes was just enough time to recap the previous episode, carry the story line along for a few moments and leave us with yet another cliff hanger.

We all had a built in alarm clock even without a watch. My internal alarm was so sophisticated that it didn't matter how far from a radio I happened to be. It allowed me to reach home in time--even from the most distant point in the neighborhood. This magnificent internal device also provided for the required warm up time. Yes, we did need allow time for those vacuum tubes to come up to temperature before reception was decent.

I don't remember how many commercials they carried, but the sponsors got more than their share stuffed into each daily chapter. That may be the reason the story line advanced so slowly. Each show depended on an audience share, and what better way to insure listeners for tomorrow than a cliff hanger today.

The writers were masters of the cliff hanger ploy. Everyday, day after day I was left breathless wondering how Tom or Jack or the others would get out of their latest predicament. Weekdays were bad enough, but to get me to tune in again Monday, the writers needed a spectacular cliff hanger on Friday.

I remember hearing a story about a writer on the Jack Armstrong show. He was hired on a Friday morning and would not actually begin writing until the following Monday. "Lad, how would you like to stick around for today's show?" said one of the veteran writers. "Kinda get a feel for how we work."

"That would be swell!" was the enthusiastic response.

The story line led Jack toward the end of that episode leaving him in a deep pit with no possible handholds for climbing. Beyond that, the rim of the pit was surrounded with hostile and threatening natives each armed with a razor sharp spear.

The newly hired writer was as breathless as I was each Friday. "How in the world can you possibly rescue Jack from this impossible situation?"

The veteran writer looked at him and said, "Son, we don't share our story line with anyone not on the writing staff. Since you're new and don't officially start work until Monday, you'll just have to sweat through the weekend just like the listeners do."

The following Monday, the writer hurried to the studio to begin his first day on the Jack Armstrong writing team. With bated breath, he asked the veteran who had put him off last Friday, "How about letting me see today's script?"

The old veteran grinned and handed him several pieces of paper. "Take a look at the answer to the question you had last Friday."

Whipping past the opening credits he gazed at the first line of the Monday script. The narrator would be speaking and the line began: "After escaping from the pit, Jack ..."

When all else fails, take the easy way out. I have a hunch the writers used this ploy more often than I remember. Every Monday I simply breathed a sigh of relief for Jack and the others and tuned an ear to remainder of that day's adventure.

These types of diversions kept us tuned day after day, but just listening wasn't enough. The sponsors wanted to make money too. This is where the writers conspired with the sponsors and became masters of pushing the product. I was in my teens before I realized that Battle Creek, Michigan was not the capitol of the United States.

Battle Creek seemed the center of the universe for cereal products, which brings me to another curious question. Why did all these shows seem to have a breakfast cereal or product for a sponsor? That will have to remain an unanswered question. I never solved that riddle, yet I remember Wheaties, Instant Ralston and Ovaltine among others.

So you ask, just how did they manage to push those products? Sometimes they were subtle, and sometimes they were not so subtle. Those less skillful, were ones like Captain Midnight and Little Orphan Annie. As regular as clockwork, they would simply come up with their latest offer. Who among us could be without the latest Captain Midnight Secret Squadron decoder badge or whistle? Yes, one year the decoder came as a plastic police whistle with the decoder dial on the side. I can still picture that blue whistle and the red decoder dial.

I do remember one offer from Little Orphan Annie, an Ovaltine Mix-up Mug. Or was it a Shake-up Mug? During the first commercial, the announcer gave us the usual warning, " ... stay tuned for a special offer!" Oh boy, here it comes--got to make sure I get the address correct. If not, I may miss this one altogether. A typical child's fear, no matter that the offer would be repeated for at least two weeks.

Then it struck me. Panic gripped me, my stomach was a huge knot rising in my throat and perspiration broke out on my forehead. Here I was with pencil and paper--ready to get the address ... and my mother was visiting the next door neighbors. Why should that be a problem? I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE YET!

I was torn. Should I stay and attempt to memorize the address or should I try to get next door and back before the next commercial. In my panic, I managed neither. My mother must have been intuitive for she arrived back home before the final commercial--when the address was again repeated--and she saved the day. Whew, talk about a close one.

On the subtle side, the real masters of marketing were the writers on the Tom Mix show. Tom would never stoop to sell anything. He cleverly left this up to his sidekick. For some reason the full name of his pal is not so clear in my mind as was the star's. Maybe that is because he was crass enough to make the sales pitch.

They all had sidekicks. Little Orphan Annie had Daddy Warbucks, or was he a mentor. Captain Midnight had Icabod Mudd. It seems like Terry had several, but Big Stoop comes to mind. To the best of my recollection, Tom's best buddy was a sheriff by the name of Mike.

Back to crass ol' Sheriff Mike. Mike was the one who kept up a running commentary on Tom's adventures. He even explained to us dumb kids the how and why of events. Just like we couldn't figure it out for ourselves. Why, I could tell just from Mike's tone of voice that an offer was on the way.

The offer became a part of the story. Not blatantly, but very subtly woven into the plot. Ol' Mike wasn't so smart, I always knew it was coming long before he even announced the latest "be the first in your neighborhood to own the . . . (you can fill the blank)!"

Tom was about to be accosted from behind by some villain as the episode ended (cliffhanger). The following day, Tom whirled in the nick of time to face the villain down (after escaping . . . ). This time I knew it was different. Mike looked incredulously at Tom and said with a rising tone, "T-o-o-o-m, how did you know he was thar?" Boy, Ol' Mike must have thought us kids were stupid; he couldn't see an offer coming, but we could. I held my breath till the following day.

There it was. As plain as the nose on your face. Patiently, Tom detailed to the less than brilliant Mike how he knew the villain was behind him. Of course! Anyone could see that Tom was wearing a new ring. Inside the crown, was a small mirror and viewing ports. By bringing the ring up to eye level, Tom had peered into his ring and the angle of the mirror allowed him to see behind.

This time was like all others. At the first hint of a new--whatever it would be--during the next commercial break I would race to the kitchen. With a prayer on my lips, I ripped open the doors of the cupboard cabinets and searched the shelves. Since this was an offer from Tom Mix, it had to be a Ralston Purina product. Even before my frantic search ended, I knew what I would find.

Yes, there were boxes of Instant Ralston on the shelf. I may be saved yet. Oh no, all those boxes of breakfast cereal and not a single boxtop in sight. Everyone knows that an OFFER requires a BOXTOP as well coin of the realm. Acquiring twenty-five cents, while no easy chore in those days was child's play compared to a boxtop.

Racing back to the radio to make sure that they really wanted a boxtop this time, I wracked my brain for a new ploy of my own. "I really love Instant Ralston for breakfast" probably wouldn't work again. Evidence the numerous topless boxes already on the shelf. Maybe pepper liberally sprinkled into the boxes would give thought to weevils and my parents would throw out the old cereal. If that worked, it would be easy to request a replacement.

Those lucky kids who lived in Battle Creek. I bet they hand delivered their boxtops and quarters directly to the factory and took their prize home with them. No waiting two to four weeks for the treasure. In retrospect, the time lag was really short for those days. Without a single computer to speed the process, they took half the time requested today.

At least those kids had boxtops to hand deliver; and I had none! What now? I cannot remember how I was able to convince my parents that one more box top was a necessity of life; akin to food, shelter and the like. I suppose I was actually reduced to eating the cereal. Whatever the ploy, I don't think I missed a single offer in those days.

I only have one regret. I wish I still owned those mix-up mugs, decoder badges, and secret compartment rings, not to mention any number of items that glowed in the dark. Not only would they bring back fond memories, they're also extremely valuable as collector's items. What happened to them you ask? They probably were tossed out along with some 1930's Walt Disney comics--but that's another tale for another time.