Priceless Memories - Bob Barker [67]
“I would like that,” I replied.
And with those words, we launched a relationship of almost eight years for Dorothy Jo and me with the Southern California Edison Company. We did two shows a day, three days a week, in towns and cities from the beach to San Bernardino in the east, and from South Los Angeles to Lancaster in the north. Talk about experience—I got it, hours and hours of it. And no matter how much talent you have for doing audience participation, there is no substitute for experience.
Our shows for Roy Rick in the Department of Water and Power auditorium and in the Southern California Edison Electric Living Centers were immensely successful because they were unique in character. To the best of my knowledge, no utility had ever used a radio show to attract women to an appliance demonstration, and an audience participation show was the perfect vehicle.
To open the festivities, Dorothy Jo went out onstage, introduced herself, and expertly established a party atmosphere that prevailed throughout the day. An Edison home economist conducted an appliance demonstration that was informative and fun, and then out I came to select contestants to start the radio show. I chose some contestants before we began taping, but not all. I wanted folks in the audience to know they still had a chance to participate right up until sign-off.
One of the staples of our radio show was a contest in which half a dozen ladies discussed such subjects as “my huband’s worst fault,” “my own worst mistake,” “how to get a man,” et cetera. Of course, the audience would choose the winner. Sometimes Dorothy Jo wrote a commercial to the tune of a well-known song, and I would have fun auditioning ladies by having them sing the scales. Eventually I chose a quartet and they sang our commercial.
Maybe I would go on a search for the lady who had been married the longest, the oldest lady, or the lady with the most children. The most middle-aged lady was sure to shock the winner. At that time, the average age of a woman in the United States was seventy-two, so you were middle-aged at thirty-six. Some women couldn’t handle that.
One time I was looking for women who collected things and an elderly lady raised her hand.
“Madam, what do you collect?” I asked.
She said, “Sonny, I’ve been married four times, and it was quite a collection!”
How could a show with that kind of material possibly miss?
• • •
Although things were progressing splendidly, there was an uncertainty lurking in the background of all of our radio activity. I was still in the naval reserve, and the Korean War had broken out by this time. There was some speculation (actually, I considered it a strong possibility) that I would be called up for duty. All naval aviators were automatically in the naval reserve for a number of years. I was checked out in the Corsair, a propeller-driven plane, and they were using it at that time in Korea. I remember thinking that the navy might call me up to get more training in the newer jets, or they might want me to come and fly Corsair missions. Either way, I considered it a distinct possibility, and I remember thinking that if I did go back into the service, I might just stay in the navy because I did not feel like coming back out to Hollywood and starting all over again. But apparently my destiny was sealed because once again the war ended without my help, and I never piloted another airplane in my life.
Dorothy Jo and I also developed and sold our own local television show during this period. This show was on KHJ on Vine Street. I met Jerry Mertens, who was with an advertising agency, and Jerry had a client, an independent druggist who was not fond of the large drug chains. This client had a product he wanted to market and promote. He believed he had the solution to teenagers’ complexion problems. The product was called Teen Tone. He wanted a television show that would attract teenagers, who would hopefully buy jars and jars