Freberg Underground! Show #1 - Stan Freberg

contributed by Allen Belovarac, July 9, 1995

Released on Capitol Records T/ST-2551, 1966
reissued on SM-2551

  1. Opening
  2. Father of the Year Award
  3. The Shaft Theatre:"The Flackman and Reagan!"
  4. Digit Dialing Demonstration (Song:"They Took Away Our MurrayHills")
  1. Pop Art Interview
  2. Anybody Here Remember Radio?
  3. Folk Songs for Our Time:
    1. "Oh Dat Freeway System"
    2. "Poor Bobby Baker"
    3. "Dey Took Away My Diner's Club Card"
    4. "Which Is the Girl? Which Is the Boy?"
  4. Closing


ANNOUNCER: From deep within his fantastic headquarters...far beneath the city's hum...comes the first terrifying edition of...Freberg - Underground!
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Leapin' lizards! What was that?
FREBERG: That was a man talking through a cardboard tube.
FREBERG: Go ahead please.
ANNOUNCER: Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?
FREBERG: Helen Gurley Brown?

If you're wondering what this thing you're listening to is all about
What you're hearing is the audio debut
Of an underground recording quite Frebergian no doubt
And with luck maybe controversial too

Mr. Irving P. Laverney
Who's the Capitol attorney
Promised I can say satiric things like
Marv says Sandy

But when all is said and done
He'll certainly offend no one
He's nice clear through
And he's Red White and Blue
He stands for Mom's Apple Pie and LBJ
Lawrence Welk and The American Way

A more conservative man
Could not be found
Welcome to Freberg

ANNOUNCER: And now here's the star of Underground, in a plain brown wrapper... Stan Freberg!
FREBERG: Good evening. You may be wondering how the title of this program, Freberg Underground, came to be selected. Capitol records simply fed several show titles into a computer, and that is the title the computer selected. Among the titles the computer rejected were: The Green Hornet...The FBI In Peace And War...The Romance Of Helen Trent...The Kate Smith Hour...and Renfrew Of The Mounted. Any questions?
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Yes. What kind of a weird album is this, anyhow?
FREBERG: Well, you might call it an audio program.
FREBERG: Well, there didn't seem to be any more network comedy shows on the radio anymore, unless you could count Barry Goldwater's acceptance speech from the Cow Palace in 1964, and I suppose Ma Perkins is still running somewhere. But other than that, there are no more comedy radio shows, which concerned me extremely.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Extremism in the pursuit of comedy is no vice!
FREBERG: Nicely put, yes. At any rate, I shall try to appear in these audio specials on a regular basis. Along with me on our anti-establishment excursion will be my splendid little stock company of players and singers, and a battery of white lipped attorneys.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Will the program be broadcast over the radio?
FREBERG: No, you have to go into the record store and buy it. And so, welcome to Pay Radio.


FREBERG: Thank you, Peter.
ANNOUNCER: Each month Mr. Freberg will pick a worthy person or institution to receive...The Freberg Award!
FREBERG: Thank you. It wasn't much, but thank you. Tonight to start the ball rolling, our Father Of The Year Award goes to...May I have the envelope please?...Well! Dr. Edward Teller, father of the Hydrogen Bomb! Wonderful. You ah, you got Dr. Teller on the phone? Right, here, I'll take it, yeah. Hello, Dr. Teller? Hah, congratulations, sir. How does it feel to be the father of such a famous bomb? What's that? Oh, you couldn't take all the credit? Yes you could too! Where have we reached you, sir? In, uh, in your bomb shelter. How long you been down there? Oh, you're living there right along now, huh? I see. And, uh, and the family, yes. Well, on behalf of the entire world, let me just say thank you for giving us the Hydrogen Bomb. What's that? Use it in good health? Right. Thank you Dr. Teller. And on that joyous note, let us get on with the show.


ANNOUNCER: The Shaft Theatre! On the air! A tribute to television programming which has attained that which the medium is truly capable of! Tonight - the story of a press agent and a political candidate! The Shaft Theatre Presents: "The Flackman And Reagan!"
ANNOUNCER 2: 1966! A zowie year for an election campaign! And in Film City, USA, Ronnie Reagan and his press agent Flackman plan their strategy!
REAGAN: Golly, Flackman! Will I really get to be Governor of California?
FLACKMAN: You will, if you can start conducting yourself as a politician, and forget you were ever in show business.
REAGAN: I forgot it already, believe me, sweetie. [Tap Dancing] I was telling my makeup man just this morning.
FLACKMAN: Stop that tap dancing.
REAGAN: Wait a minute, watch this. Here's how I'll come tapping down the stairs for the press in Sacramento. Waving a little American flag. Maybe have Shirley Temple by the hand.
FLACKMAN: Nobody ever tap-danced his way into public office.
REAGAN: What about George Murphy?
FLACKMAN: Shut up. [Phone ringing] The Flackphone. Yes, comissioner? He did? When? We'll be there in five minutes.
REAGAN: What is it, Flackman? The Riddler?
FLACKMAN: The Governor.
REAGAN: Worse yet!
FLACKMAN: He's just announced that he's not going to turn this state over to Ronnie Reagan and his bunch.
REAGAN: Holy Sacramento!, why not?
FLACKMAN: Let's put our thinking caps on, Ronnie.
REAGAN: Right.
FLACKMAN: The Governor is a democrat. You're a republican.
FLACKMAN: Democrats don't like to turn their states over to republicans. That's it!
REAGAN: You've figured it out!
FLACKMAN: It certainly is a bizarre attitude all right.
OLD WOMAN: A couple of baseball players here to see you, Bruce.
SANDY: Hiya, Flackman!
DON: Hiya, Flackman!
FLACKMAN: Sandy, Don. What can I do for you?
DON: Well, we were on the Hollywood Palace, see?
SANDY: And we were hoping that maybe you could help us to be Governor.
REAGAN: Wait a minute. Wait a minute, I'll handle this. You think you can just jump from the ballpark to one lousy TV guest appearance and that qualifies you to be Governor? Oh, no, that's not the way it works.
SANDY: But then how-
REAGAN: You get a few movies under your belt, and then maybe people will accept you as Governor material.
DON: I know, but-
REAGAN: Later! [Door Slam] Some of these kids today, huh?
FLACKMAN: Yes. Meanwhile, we've got to get you elected. Come on, old friend, to the Flackmobile.
[Engine Rip] REAGAN: Golly, Flackman! How can I ever repay you for helping me?
FLACKMAN: Well, for openers, you can take your foot off my cape.
[REAL Engine Rip] REAGAN: What's that little bicycle wheel dragging along the back of the Flackmobile?
FLACKMAN: I'm trying to see how much farther I can go on Platformate.
COMISSIONER: Well, Ronnie, have you deciphered the Governor's statement that he wouldn't turn this state over to you and your bunch?
REAGAN: Flackman figured it out, Comissioner. It's because I'm a republican, and he's a democrat.
COMISSIONER: Incredible! The mind reels.
FLACKMAN: That's only part of the riddle, Ronnie. What does he mean by your "bunch"?
REAGAN: Search me.
COMISSIONER: Sinatra? Dean Martin? Sammy Davis Jr.?
REAGAN: Wrong bunch.
COMMISIONER: John Wayne? Barry Goldwater? William Buckley Jr.?
REAGAN: That's the bunch.
FLACKMAN: Wait a minute. Bunch, banana, top banana. He's referring to your show-biz background.
REAGAN: Holy George Jessel, Flackman! That's it! Show me a man who won't turn his state over to show-folk, and I'll show you a crabby old Governor!
FLACKMAN: Nicely put, Ronnie.
REAGAN: What's the matter with movie stars, anyhow? [Violin] Look at us. Do we not have teeth? Hair? Shoulders? If you prod us, will we not run for Governor? And if you prick us, will we not get emotional? I will not have my integrity questioned....
[Footsteps, Door Slam]
COMISSIONER: Well! He blew up and walked out of the room! It's not like him!
FLACKMAN: Yes it is. Come back in here, Ronnie.
[Door Open]
REAGAN: Hi, gang!
FLACKMAN: Must you be so dramatic?
REAGAN: Look at it this way. If I blow the Governor bit, there's always the Academy Award, right?
FLACKMAN: Good thinking, Ronnie. Now it's time for your appearance on Face The Press. To the Flackmobile.
[Engine Rip, Skid]
REAGAN: Why have we stopped?
FLACKMAN: This isn't the Flackmobile. We got in a Yellow Cab by mistake.
CABBIE: You're tellin' me. Now would you mind gettin' off my lap, buddy?
FLACKMAN: Sorry about that.
REAGAN: Let's go.
ANNOUNCER: Disengaging himself from behind the wheel, the cowled crusader slides off the cabbie's lap, and into the TV station with Ronnie!
CHRISTOPHER: Welcome once again to Face The Press. We'll start our questions with Miss Gray.
GRAY: Mr. Reagan, as a republican, running for an important public office, uh, what would you say are the crucial issues here?
REAGAN: Well, the most crucial thing to me, that takes precedence above everything else, is that I come across on television better than Nixon did. When he ran for President.
GRAY: Would you consider that crucial?
REAGAN: Well, it was to Nixon. One lousy makeup job, zap!, wiped out, just like that.
CHRISTOPHER: The color question was raised recently by some factions. I wonder if you could give us a few facts on that.
REAGAN: Yes, well, he used the Max Factor number 4 beige to cover up the five o'clock shadow, and came out like clown white.
CHRISTOPHER: Mr. Reagan, what is the name of your press agent?
REAGAN: Flackman, Leonard Flackman.
CHRISTOPHER: And where is he at the moment?
REAGAN: He's changing over there in that phone booth.
CHRISTOPHER: Oh, I see. Well, uh...
REAGAN: Here he comes now.
[Struggling, Huffing]
FLACKMAN: Sorry I'm late. Those leotards are murder.
CHRISTOPHER: Well, that brings up an interesting question. Although you're dressed in a business suit now, Mr. Flackman, why are you frequently seen leaping aboout in blue tights, a wide yellow belt, boots, a cape, and a mask?
FLACKMAN: I try to blend in with the crowd on the Sunset Strip as much as possible.
CHRISTOPHER: I'll accept that.
GRAY: Uh, Mr. Reagan, you've spent most of your life in Hollywood. Surely you realize that California's problems are statewide. Uh, Mr. Christopher, for example, wonders how you feel about San Francisco.
REAGAN: Yes, well. Uh, I think it was one of the great pictures of all time.
GRAY: Can't we get down to cases here. If you were Governor, how would you have handled the Watts riots?
FLACKMAN: Be careful how you answer that, Ronnie.
REAGAN: Right. I stand on my record. If you consider the way I dealt with civil disobedience in "Girls On Probation" and "Law And Order," I think you see the kind of leadership that is needed in this state.
GRAY: Well, what would you have done about the unrest at Berkley?
REAGAN: Once again, as far back as "Naughty But Nice" and right up to "She's Working Her Way Through College" I had a firsthand knowledge of student problems of one sort or another. I straightened out Betty Grable in that last one.
GRAY: But those are movies! What about the-
REAGAN: Of course it's important that a Governor has a sense of humor, too. It isn't all heavy drama. Did you catch me in "Bedtime For Bonzo?"
GRAY: "Bedtime For Bonzo"! These are violent times, Mr. Reagan! How are you equipped to handle a major crisis?
REAGAN: In "King's Row", I lost both my legs! How's that for a crisis, lady? What do you want from me?
FLACKMAN: Cool it, Ronnie.
FLACKMAN: There's something fishy about that woman reporter...underneath that wig... [Struggling] ...and that rubber...unh...mask...How now, Brown Governor?
REAGAN: The incumbent himself! In a May Craig suit!
BROWN: That's right! And I'm not gonna turn this state over to any handsome, virile, republican movie star, with all his hair, and a nice smile!
REAGAN: Why don't you try smiling for a change, instead of looking so crabby all the time?
BROWN: You'd look crabby, too, if you were Governor of a state full of cooks, like this one! [Running] Of course, you'll never get the chaaance......
REAGAN: Zowie, Flackman! Did you see that footwork?
FLACKMAN: Yes. He jumped from the far left wing of the stage, onto the loose liberal plank and your platform, catapulted himself right out through the window onto the middle of the road...and got away.
REAGAN: That's what I call a tricky Governor! Oh well.
CHRISTOPHER: Have you any final words before we sign off, Mr. Reagan?
REAGAN: Just this.
Give my regards to Murphy
And leaders of the GOP
Tell all the boys in Sacramento
That I've found the rest of me

Tell them of how I'm yearning
To mingle with that smoke filled throng
Here we go!

Give my regards to Lyndon too
And tell him I'll be there ere long

ANNOUNCER: Will the quick Ronnie Reagan jump over the crabby Brown Governor? Gubernatorially speaking? Don't miss the next star-studded election! Same big state! Same big libel suit!


ANNOUNCER: The nineteenth century fairly crackled with the brilliant inventions of Thomas Edison, Samuel Morse, and Alexander Graham Bell. Tonight, we welcome the the 20th century inventor, who has tried to streamline Mr. Bell's invention. The inventor of all-digit dialing, Mr. Ned Numeral!
FREBERG: Good evening!
NUMERAL: Good evening.
FREBERG: Uh, take a couple steps to your left, there, Mr. Numeral.
NUMERAL: All right. Ok?
FREBERG: Oonch a little bit further.
NUMERAL: Too about where that big X is on the floor?
FREBERG: Ah, that's right.
NUMERAL: Very well.
FREBERG: Ok, let her go, boys!
NUMERAL: What do I do [Trapdoor Opens] nooww...
FREBERG: I hope he had some shark repellent there with him. So much for digit dialing. And now... [Knock] Excuse me just a moment. Come in...
EMERSON: Mr. Freberg?
EMERSON: I'm from the telephone company.
FREBERG: My check is in the mail.
EMERSON: I was referring to what you did to Mr. Numeral; I didn't find that too amusing.
EMERSON: It might interest you to know that all digit numbers are easier.
FREBERG: Really?
EMERSON: People are tired of trying to remember things like MurrayHill 5 or Trinity6. Too hard. We simplified it for them. We gave them area code 212-473-29768, for example.
FREBERG: Ah, world of difference there. I didn't notice you consulting us about it, though. Putting it up to a vote.
EMERSON: We put it up to the machine.
FREBERG: The what?
EMERSON: The computer. Here, I have a picture of it in my wallet. See here? It's called UniVac.
FREBERG: Ah, yes, uh-huh.
EMERSON: Here's another shot of it, taken with our two smaller machines. That was taken last summer!
FREBERG: You have a nice family. The oldest computer there-
FREBERG: Yes, it has a familiar look to it.
EMERSON: Really? Well, it's standing right over here.
[Footsteps] EMERSON: Mr. Numeral was planning on giving you a digit demonstration before you were so rude to him.
FREBERG: Sorry about that...
EMERSON: I'll just pull the curtains aside here.
FREBERG: Alright.
EMERSON: Meet UniVac.
FREBERG: Uh, did this computer select the actual name All-Digit Dialing for you?
FREBERG: What were some of the names it rejected?
EMERSON: The Green Hornet, The FBI In Peace And War...
FREBERG: Yes. I thought it looked familiar! Does it do away with a great many employees?
EMERSON: It eliminates 832.1 persons.
FREBERG: Is that a fact.
EMERSON: We feed our problem into the computer, it thinks it over for a while, zap!, out comes the answer. Here, I'll give someone's old telephone number to the machine, let me see...Lackawanna8400, and show you how it's converted to an all-digit number. We just slide the card in a slot here, there we go...
UNIVAC: The card you have given me -click- is outside my programming area I convert only Et -click- water through Jetson Lackawanna is handled by another computer Please check the yel -click- low pages of your instruction manual for the proper machine This is a recording.
EMERSON: Heh heh, that's sort of embarrassing...
FREBERG: Embarrassing, yes.
EMERSON: Yes, here, I have another card, uh, there we go...
FREBERG: It was sort of all scrunched up in your wallet there, does that matter?
EMERSON: That doesn't matter.
[Beeping, Honk]
UNIVAC: The card you have given me is mutilated It may be that you have folded it incorrectly or carried it all scrunched up in your wallet Please make sure from now on that it is a nice straight card and that you are feeding it to me correct -click- ly This is a very angry recording.
EMERSON: Well, uh, that, uh, that gives you a rough idea.
FREBERG: Yes indeed.
EMERSON: There's no nonsense with the computer, you know right where you stand.
FREBERG: A little to one side, I should imagine. Do you forsee an all digit society with numbers for people instead of names, Mister, uh, I didn't catch your name...
EMERSON: Emerson, I.B. Emerson. That's the sum and total of it, yes. All digit dialing is just the beginning. And you wait. It's going to get a tremendous reception...
FREBERG: And I think I hear it coming now. [Door Open, Screaming Mob] Here's all yours, folks!
EMERSON: No, no, please! Help! Put me down! Just wait until you try to get an extension phone!
[Door Slam]
FREBERG: Looks like they've got his number all right. All right people, uh, let's open our Manhattan Telephone Directory Hymnals to page 212.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: What area code?
FREBERG: All right, cut that out, now. Here we go.

(Song: "They Took Away Our MurrayHills!")

They took away our MurrayHills
They took away our Sycamores
They took away Trafalgar and State
They took away our Plaza, our Yukon, our Michigan
And left us with 47329768
Remember Susquehanna!

With a hi-ho 370
And a merry 54422
Who said it's cumbersome
See the nice number some
UniVac machine's gone and picked out for you

They took away our Lexingtons
They took away our Delawares
They came and got Tuxedo and State
They swiped ElDorado, and Judson, and Trinity
And left us with 47329768
Blessings on the telephone company!

With a hi-ho 370
And a merry 54433
Goodbye dear old prefix
Hello 736
Oh they're a million laughs down at AT&T


FREBERG: Over the last couple of years the world of modern art has been shaken up with a new kind of "art." It all started with the painting of chicken noodle soup cans by Andy Warhol. Later he painted chicken gumbo. He didn't want to repeat himself, y'know. Where it will all end is something I don't care to think about. But by way of examing this upstart art, we take you now to the chic Manhattan apartment of Mr. and Mrs. Bud Taste. Take it away George Spelvin in New York!
SPELVIN: Thank you, Stan. Uh, Mr. Taste, uh, I guess you hold the record for acquiring the largest collection of Pop Art in the country, correct?
MR. TASTE: Yes. Or to put it another way, in as far as acquiring the widest collection of Pop Art in the country, I hold the record.
SPEVIN: I see. Well, let's start with this light bulb mounted on a marble base. Uh, what is this?
MR. TASTE: Uh, I think it's about sixty watts.
SPELVIN: Now that's a striking abstract sculpture over there.
MR. TASTE: Yes, uh, that's a wrecked automobile fender by John Chamberlin.
SPELVIN: Oh, what does he call it?
MR. TASTE: "Wrecked Automobile Fender."
SPELVIN: Well, uh, can you describe this unusual grouping of pop sculpture, uh, right next to it here?
MR. TASTE: I think I'll let Emily tell you about that one.
MRS. TASTE: Well, yes, um, this is a life-sized plaster replica of myself, Mr. Taste, and our German Shepherd, Buster. In repose.
SPLEVIN: The- Well, it seems the sculptor made an actual casting of you, did he, is that right?
SPELVIN: And, uh, how was that accomplished?
MRS. TASTE: He just came in one day and gun-nighted us.
SPELVIN: And, uh, how did your dog react to that?
MRS. TASTE: He didn't care for it too much.
SPELVIN: But he finally went for it.
MRS. TASTE: He went right for his throat, yes.
SPELVIN: Yes, well, I can imagine.
MR. TASTE: Yes, your average German Shepherd doesn't like to be gun-nighted.
SPELVIN: I've heard that said, yes. Do I see someone else in the grouping there?
MRS. TASTE: That's the gas man. He accidentally walked into the line of fire. Now, he belongs to the ages.
SPELVIN: Let's move on to the living room now, if we may.
MRS. AND MR. TASTE: Yes, surely.
SPELVIN: I notice what appears to be the rear half of a Greyhound bus parked just inside your living room here.
MR. TASTE: Yes, uh, that's called "Backseat 37 Greyhound."
SPELVIN: Ah yes. And, what's inside the backseat of the Greyhound bus? MR. TASTE: The backseat of a 37 Dodge.
SPELVIN: And what's in the backseat of that?
MR. TASTE: Much ado about nothing.
SPELVIN: Yes, well, this is effective. The whole dining room wall is covered with a reproduced comic strip, complete with jungle warfare, and so forth. Do you find overtones of Modianni here?
MR. TASTE: No, Steve Canyon, mostly.
SPELVIN: Well, it's a very moving tableau,the machine gun going "rat-tat-tat-tat-tat." Do you and your wife find a message in the work?
MR. TASTE: Yes. The message for Emily and I in that work is "rat-tat-tat-tat-tat."
SPELVIN: I should say.
MRS. TASTE: Won't you sit down?
SPELVIN: Where would you suggest?
MRS. TASTE: We sit on the hamburger, usually.
SPELVIN: As I noticed it there. A six-foot wide amazingly realistic cheeseburger covered in, is that mohair?
MRS. TASTE: Sesame seeds. We use it as a divan, but it's the work of a young girl we've tried to encourage. MaryAnn Tuffet.
MR. TASTE: Yes, uh, this was her hamburger period. After this she worked in hot dogs for about six months.
MRS. TASTE: We have her very first hot dog upstairs. We use it as a loveseat. Fortunately, the room is done in mustard, so it ties in perfectly.
SPELVIN: Oh, how appropriate!
MR. TASTE: She did a mural for us in the dining room, uh, she worked on hardtack instead of canvas. Very exciting technique.
MR. TASTE: Oh, beautiful. Vivid green peppers, vibrant red tomato paste, real hamburger meat for texture, and mozerella cheese over the whole thing. She called it "Noodles in Conflict."
SPELVIN: Well, I'd certainly like to see that one!
MR. TASTE: Gee, I'm sorry, we ate it last night.
SPELVIN: How has her work generally been received?
MRS. TASTE: Enthusiastically! Her "Clubhouse Sandwich 66" was just bought by the Johnsons.
SPELVIN: Lyndon?
MRS. TASTE: Howard.
SPELVIN: What better place for Pop Art! And now back to Hollywood and "Freberg Underground."


FREBERG: Thank you. And now we'd like to, uh...
MARYANN: Mr. Freberg?
FREBERG: Yes? Who are you?
MARYANN: I'm MaryAnn Feemster(?) , I'm ten years old, I've been sitting in the audience?
FREBERG: Ah, yes?
MARYANN: I've been thinking about what you said about how you're doing this because there aren't any more radio programs?
FREBERG: Ah, yes?
MARYANN: Mr. Freberg...Ah, what's a radio program?
FREBERG: Well, when you listen to the radio in the morning, what do you hear?
MARYANN: Disc jockeys and news, or sometimes news and disc jockeys.
MARYANN: Is it possible to hear something else?
FREBERG: It was back in the 1940's, yes.
MARYANN: Back in the olden days?
FREBERG: Ah, yes. There were what we call radio programs, like what we're doing here, with actors, and live musicians, and sound effects men, and guest stars.
MARYANN: Oh, you mean like a television program, when the picture tube blows out.
FREBERG: Something like that, yes.
MARYANN: What did you look at?
FRBERG: You didn't look at anything. You just listened.
MARYANN: Boy, talk about your radical ideas!
FREBERG: Look, dear, you're just too young to remember, I guess. I'll have someone from the audience explain it. Anybody here remember radio? Anybody, heh-heh...Anybody at all?
FREBERG: Oh, good! Here's a lady! Here's a lady! Come right up here, madam. Watch your step, dear. You do remember radio programs, do you?
OLD WOMAN: Oh, yes, yes, I remember them.
FREBERG: You used to listen to them, did you?
OLD WOMAN: I did as a girl, yes, my goodness yes.
FREBERG: For the benefit of this young lady, could you tell us what it was like?
OLD WOMAN: Well, it dear, I'm trying to remember...
FREBERG: Just take your time...
OLD WOMAN: Well, if my memory serves me correct, we'd hurry to get the dishes done, and we'd all sit around the living room, listening to the...uh...
OLD WOMAN: Radio! That's it.
MARYANN: Pardon me, what did you look at while the radio was on?
OLD WOMAN: Oh, we looked at each other. Kind of stared off into space while Inner Sanctum was on, The Whistler, The Shadow...The weed of crime bears bitter fruit, do you know who said that?
OLD WOMAN: LeMont Cranston, that's who. Compared to him, my dear, James Bond is a fink!
MARYANN: But I still don't know what you used for pictures.
FREBERG: You used your imagination.
MARYANN: Your what?
FREBERG: Look. You could do things on radio that you couldn't possibly do on television. My sound effects man and I will give you a demonstration right now.
FREBERG: Okay, people, now, when I give you the cue, I want the 500 foot mountain of whipped cream to be shoved into Lake Michigan, which has been drained and filled with hot chocolate. Then the Royal Canadian Air Force will appear overhead, towing a ten-ton maraschino cherry, which will be dropped into the whipped cream to the cheering of 25000 extras. Alright, cue the mountain! [Corresponding Effect] Cue the Air Force! [Corresponding Effect] Cue the maraschino cherry! [Corresponding Effect] Okay, 25000 cheering extras! [Corresponding Effect] Now, you wanna try that on television?
MARYANN: I see what you mean.
FREBERG: You see, radio was a very special medium. It stretched the imagination.
MARYANN: But doesn't television stretch the imagination?
FREBERG: Up to 21 inches, yes.
OLD WOMAN: Mr. Freberg?
OLD WOMAN: What did they do with all those radio people? Did they go into a rest home?
FREBREG: No, they went into television, and after about 26 weeks they went into a rest home! Thanks for being with us!


FREBERG: What with the continuing interest in folk music and hootenannies, I got to worrying the other day. What kind of folk songs will they be singing a hundred years from now? I mean, they can't go on forever singing about cotton and plantations. All that boll weevil jazz. The people of the next century should have songs to sing about which reflect life as it was in the 1960's. And so I've started the ball rolling, by writing a few folk songs for our time to be sung in the year 2066, but still keeping that Stephen Foster flavor. Imagine, if you will, that a hundred years have passed, and that I am a folk singer of that era.

"Oh Dat Freeway System."

FOLK SINGER: Good evening. I'd like to sing for you now an old folk song about freeways. A freeway was a long ribbon of concrete. And the people used to ride what they called automobiles on them, back in the 1960's. This was, of course, when the oil companies were still able to supress the invention of water driven vehicles, and we all remember what a hullaballou there was about that. Anyway, they put these gasoline driven automobiles onto these freeways and drove them back and forth, every day, back and forth. And as they drove, they sang this plaitive song, "Oh Dat Freeway System."

See de automibles
Oh dat freeway system
Talk about your painful ordeals
Oh dat freeway system
Lawd the misery I feel
Oh dat freeway system
Like a play of Eugene O'Neill's
Oh dat freeway system

Oh what grief
At the cloverleaf
My massa run out of gas

Now he's losin' his wheels
Oh dat freeway system
What he hollers isn't genteel
Oh dat freeway system

Ezekiel saw the wheel
Right there in the middle of the freeway
Hear the tires squeal
Gonna be some ? alert

All up and down the aggravation
Sadly the honk
While their radios play
Bad jingles
Or at best
The Beatles
Seldom Thelonius Monk

"Poor Bobby Baker."

FOLK SINGER: And then of course, they sang songs about their various heroes of the day. Here's one.

Bobby Baker
He seemed like a nice enough guy
Bobby Baker
There was more to him then met the eye

He might have missed that big expose scene
If he had only kept his nose clean

Bobby Baker
There was more to him then met the eye eye eye eye
Poor Bobby Baker
He says they've uncovered as much as they can
Unless they decide to dig deeper

"Dey Took Away My Diner's Club Card"

FOLK SINGER: Now a song of great sadness and heartbreak...Dey Took Away My Diner's Club Card, Lawd Lawd.

Oh my heart am heavy
And my soul am saddened too
I've got to say a fond farewell
To the life I have lived
And to good times bid adieu

Dey took away my Diner's Club Card, yes, yes
And they said it was no longer mine
Then they took away my 'Merican Express Card too
Now I gotta lay cash on the line, lawd, lawd
I gotta lay cash on the line

Oh the pain I'm feelin'
And my heart am most acute
I've got to shell out 20 bucks
For the check I picked up
And a four dollar tip to boot

Dey took away my Diner's Club Card, yes, yes
And they said it was no longer mine
Then they took away my 'Merican Express Card too
Now I gotta lay cash on the line, lawd, lawd
I gotta lay cash on the line

FREBERG: A lotta people...A lotta young kids burning their Diner's Club Cards.

"Which Is The Girl? Which Is The Boy?"

FOLK SINGER: Here's a folk song that the old folks would sing to their children in the summer evening. A song of great frustration, and anguish.

Which is the girl?
Which is the boy?
Which one is Blanche?
Which one is Roy?

What a dillemma
With their duplicate hair
Just when you think you've kissed Blanche
You discover that's Blanche over there

The only way that you
Can tell Bernard from Liz
Is if she's backcombed hers
When he has ironed his

Which is the nephew?
Which is the niece?
Which one is Ralph?
Which is Bernice?

How to detect them
It's as everyone says
She looks like Senator Dirkson
And he looks like Joan Baez


FREBERG: Well, the old clock on the wall says we have to go now. I do want to mention, however, that in our next Pay Radio album, along with more folk songs and The Shaft Theatre, we will be covering such subjects in the national interest as...The courship of George Hamilton...that'll be a good one...The problems of surfing in Albequerqe, New Mexico...a panel discussion questioning the advisability of the new LSD breakfast cereal, Sugar Frosted Acid Flakes... One good thing about that, the kiddies probably watch less television that way...get their own programming going there...Also, a brief explanation of our foreign policy, providing we can find anybody to explain it...And, uh...Oh yes, our version of the Watts riots as a musical. So until next time, this is Stan Freberg saying: We're a little late, folks, thanks for listening, God bless you, and...Goodnight!
ANNOUNCER: From Hollywood, this has been the first edition of Freberg Underground, written and directed by Stan Freberg! Featuring June Foray, Peter Leeds, Byron Kane, Naomi Lewis, Charles Lane, Donna Freberg, Jr., and Jud Conlon's Rhythmaires. Music arranged and conducted by Billy May and George Bruns, with original songs by Stan Freberg. All libel suits should be addressed to Mr. Irving P. Laverney, Capitol Attorney, Hollywood, California. Stay tuned for the next Pay Radio edition of Freberg Underground, which will be heard over most of these same record players. Bill Woodson speaking.

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