Idle American: Bob, Ray and dog nights

Readers with long memories yearn for more clean, creative humor. Sadly, folks in the first half of their lives are clueless about the golden years of radio. It featured 30-minute comedy shows with multiple thigh-slapping moments via radio.

The late Bob Elliott and Ray Goulding teamed up for the Bob and Ray Show , beginning in 1945 when America cried for smiles. Mere mention of their names caused grins for almost 50 years, the final few on TV.

They could have had a field day describing a recent bark in the park night at Denver’s Coors Field, where temperatures dropped more than 40 degrees from Saturday to Monday. Several hundred dog owners had purchased the allotted tickets a few days earlier, when the temperature was in the 80s. The announced attendance of some 16,000 was overblown. In fact, take away absentee season ticket holders, the figure might actually have reached 1,000, and that includes the dogs (mostly huskies.)

No, it wasn’t springtime in the Rockies.

Cameras didn’t lie, and Rockies’ faithful could have hoped that the TV guys would choose only up close camera shots, even if it meant forfeiting repetitive proof that our flag and the Rocky Mountains are still there.

An old joke fits. A woman caught her hubby winking several times at their housekeeper. Startled that he’d been seen, he stammered, “OK, are you going to believe me or what you saw?” On that cold Denver night, I think I’ll go with cameras instead of announced attendance figures.

Back to Bob and Ray. They were famous for comically reporting on inconsequential events in the dullest places.

Here’s a sample that’s fairly typical: “Our setting on this warm, sunny afternoon is the left field cushion rental booth of the Tucson Cowboys’ minor league baseball team.” (Bob might have been trying to remember whether the Cowboys were playing the Bisbee Bees or the Las Cruces Farmers.) Then he introduced Ray, purportedly to interview the cushion guy face-to-face at the stadium, but actually he was sharing a microphone with Bob during their early years in Boston.

“How many cushions have you rented today?” Ray asked the vendor, whose hems were exceeded only by his haws. He stammered, indicating that an accurate count might be hard to come by, since some cushions were out for repair, some stolen and a few fallen through bleacher cracks. Apologetically, he added, “Offhand, I’d say none. Business is lousy.”

Overall, we are a frustrated bunch, trying to take on technology head-on, and it keeps smacking us in the nose.

And it’s getting worse. We thought kudzu grew fast.

What about  the frustrated mom, trying to rouse her son from slumber? “You’d better get your AI body and iCloud mind out of bed and go to work,” she fumed.

Time was, we thought our only enemy was creeping tension. Technology doesn’t creep, it leaps, threatening us at every turn. It’s particularly true when words and numbers are scrambled in deceitful advertising.

We are bowled over by the cries of fellow Americans who’ve also been hobbled by deficiencies in both arithmetic and English.

Grocers’ ads overwhelm, period. They have gone too far, fooling us with in-store signs and newspaper ads such as, “Fresh eggs, $2.50 a dozen; $4.50 for 18.” Do the math.

Think how many companies might have made it, but missed by a number - or letter - or two. What if the motel chain missed the mark, proposing “Motel Five?” Also considered unfit were WD-39, Phillips 65, Heinz 56, Six-Up, Colt .44 and even Route 65. (There are many more, but these examples came quickly to mind.)

Now, Sam’s Club hits us with re-sizing. For years, I’ve bought Member’s Mark half-and-half in half-gallon containers for about $3.50.

Today, they sell it only in quart cartons, $2.72 each. I realized too late that I’d forgotten to allow for, uh, inflation AND deceit. Sam’s should now call it fourth-and-fourth.

Dr. Newbury, longtime president of Howard Payne University, lives in the Metroplex with Brenda, his wife of 60 years. Email: newbury@speakerdoc.com. Phone: 817-447-3872.