As many connections as Burbankers had to entertainment, not to mention the presence of Warner Bros., Disney, and Channel 4 in town, perhaps many of us got in front of or near a camera at least once. I got on once and even got bleeped before it was over.
If you recall the daytime program "You Don't Say!" starring Tom Kennedy on NBC you may remember that two celebrities would be featured weekly, each paired with a contestant to play a game where you passed clues to your partner by giving a leading statement of one or more sentences with the very last word missing. There were rules such that you couldn't use a proper name or a word that was a direct part or descriptive of the name or the object you were going after. Even if you did not complete Seventh Grade with honors you probably could figure it out. But then being under the color television studio lights and in front of a live audience might be intimidating...
Spring of 1969 "Fritzie" at work mentioned that her daughter had been on the program and had done quite well--and maybe I should try out. Not a super-complex process: Call in for studio audience tickets and attend a taping; When the audience host announces that contestant applications are available you pick one up, fill it out, send it in, tada!
O.K., you let them call you and schedule you for a group tryout where an Associate Producer conducts a mock run of the show to give all the applicants who showed up opportunity to be "on stage" to observe how you might work out in studio. When called to the front I had to get my partner to say the name of a well-known place, person, or thing. Unfortunately I did not know anything about Rossano Brazzi or how to pronounce his name. The first clue that came to mind was either "bra" or "brassiere" and I flubbed it and the other team won on the second clue. Yet there was something redeemable and I was invited back a few days or weeks later and put in line for a possible taping once we got through a course of coaching and practice required for all or most contestants.
When it looks promising for your glorious but brief period on the set you begin to wonder who the celebrities will be. You know that one is male, the other female, and they probably are well known from theater, movies, television, or the recording industry. Most of the women contestants probably hope to be paired with a popular heart-throb of the day while men look for some lady star definitely qualifying as a "Babe." If practical, you should just hope for someone smart enough to know the rules and willing to help you win. When I was a contestant-in-waiting two of the stars taping in successive weeks were comic musician Mr. Allan Sherman ("Camp Granada") and actor Bob Crane ("Hogan's Heroes"). Mr. Sherman was described by contestants who worked with him as a gentleman and he was good at the game. Bob Crane was likable as could be but I had heard that he did terribly on television game shows; he lived up to that reputation. My regrets to the two women celebs who also were on during those tapings but I can't remember everything although I am sure they did a great job. On the other hand, Bob Crane was messing up so bad that an Executive Producer came in to lecture us non-celeb contestants that "these stars aren't dumb," which we would have believed except that we'd seen and heard Bob Crane's showtime actions by way of the studio monitors. All the same people liked him and I guess he had a heart-melting smile. Women would have fought for the chance to appear with him.
The opportunity for non-celebrity fame came the week that Miss Vera Miles and Mr. Jack Albertson were the stars. Both were pleasant and enjoyable film, television, and theater veterans who treated us contestants very well although I think Miss Miles eventually wondered how she could get teamed with one of the densest contestants in TV's short history. So now let my confession begin.
During a game round in which Miss Miles and I were paired she opened with a clue statement that pretty much went:
"You take an ocean cruise and while you're on deck the seas get rough and the boat begins to rock. You get this queasy feeling in your stomach so you go over to the rail and you -------"
And I dutifully and knowledgeably answered, "heave!"
She shakes her head and subtly waves her hands for no.
A little startled I come back with "vomit."
Vera Miles indicates no once again.
I try, "throw up." Of course that's two words, not one, but we're running out of time and once again the very classy but disbelieving Miss Miles is signaling no. And perhaps a touch frantically.
Now, it's not like I don't know what the action is that Miss Miles has described, but there's a particular term that she knows and she probably expects anyone with an IQ greater than his waist size (30 in those days) to recognize. I would expect that in other circumstances but not with the clock counting down on us.
Fast as possible I gave Miss Miles every one-word and single-hyphenated expression that came to mind including up-chuck and puke (which actually had to be bleeped for some cultural reason, I guess). Still, no. I honestly felt I had let this lady down as the signal sounded and the opportunity and the win went to the other team, which suffered no vocabulary deficit like mine. And then it hit me...
Was it a Seventh Grade Talent Show we had at John Muir Junior High during the 61-62 school year? I see Don Ray or another classmate walking across the stage carrying a pail while someone calls out, "Where are you going with that bucket?" To which the answer is, "I'm going to watch Wyatt Earp (urp, urp, urp)!" Funny. Hilarious. And memorable to somebody but apparently not to me at the time I really needed to remember it. And so I let down the co-star of "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance."
After a busy career that she continued into 1995 Vera Miles got out of performing and I understand she maintains her privacy. But if anyone has contact with that very beautiful lady from Boise City, Oklahoma please convey my apology because she gave the very best and sharpest clue of that week only to see it evaporate in the slow memory of a college student from Burbank, California.
And I'd really like for you to see the actual show, but NBC saw fit to re-use all or most of its color video tapes. You'll have to trust me. And just one more thing if you don't mind: I went to IMBd.com for the rundown of her career and filmography and, so help me, the "You Don't Say!" appearance is not there. Her "Password" appearances are, but not a hint to verify the story I've told. I've had a close relative accuse me in the past of making stuff up. (Actually I'm certain now that I did not make Don Ray up.) Who knows but an old fascination with the entertainment industry left me in a condition of being little more than an animated studio prop. All the same: Miss Miles, my apology to you remains.
