Golden Age of Radio

  HE MAKES LIKE SUPERMAN BUD COLLYER KEEPS A SCHEDULE THAT WOULD WILT EVEN THE COMIC BOOK HERO HE PLAYS ON THE AIR BY TWEED BROWN IT’S 10:45 most any week-day morning at the RCA building in Radio City. A studio door suddenly bursts open and out streams a human form—faster than a speeding bullet—and disappears into another studio three doors down the hall. It’s not a bird—not a plane—it’s not even Superman . This human chunk of greased lightning in Clayton (Bud) Collyer, a radio character who makes like Superman —both on the air and off. The above 100-foot sprint in occasioned by Bud’s super schedule which calls for him to appear on NBC’s “Road of Life,” from 10:30 to 10:45 five days a week and on ABC’s “Listening Post,” from 10:45 to 11 an equal number of days. There’s only a 30-second lapse between Bud’s last words as announcer-narrator on “Road of Life” and his opening lines on “Listening Post.” “It’s a good thing both studios are in the same buildin

Henry, bitter rival of. . . George Bigelow, favorite to win. . . The great race, in spite of Dizzy. . . And Henry’s mother. . . And loyal father. In a story as gay as the Aldrich Family broadcasts themselves, lovelorn Henry, down for Cupid’s count, finally triumphs with the aid of Dizzy and bicycle build (after a fashion) for two HEN—RY! Henry Aldrich!!” His mother’s voice, poured with practiced pitch down the narrow basement stairs, summoned the chubby young man from the silence of day dream which had already begun to vex his companion, a thin boy about his own age, who was industriously oiling the sprocket of a tandem bicycle upended on the cellar floor. “Yes, Mother?” Henry’s reply was almost automatic. “Mary and I are going to the movies. Do you and Dizzy want to come along or are you going to work on that bicycle all night?” Henry roused his attention sufficiently to introduce a slightly offended tone

Camel Caravan: Come to the Clubhouse to enjoy Fine Tobacco and Great Jazz! Memories of Navy Boot Camp. It should have felt like an extended vacation to be in sunny San Diego in January and February, but it was Boot Camp. We were learning important things like how to march, the proper way to wear bell-bottomed jeans, and how to carry a very heavy rifle that hadn't been in a firing condition since the late 1940s. Many hours were expended contemplating important issues, like whether or not there was a naked lady drawn into the front leg of the Camel on the cigarette package. One day one of our Petty Officers posed a question which kept the barracks buzzing for several days. "If you were stuck in the desert on the front of the Camel cigarette package with nothing but the camel, the palm trees, and the pyramids, how would you survive?" Us Boots came up with a number of theories and guesses; of course all wrong. Sit in the shade of the palm trees? The pyramids? Drink th