Monday, December 3, 2012

Mayberry Mondays #67: “Howard, the Dream Spinner” (12/28/70, prod. no. 0320)

We’ve often had some lively back-and-forths here on the blog in the past on the merits of Mayberry R.F.D.  Some people find it an inoffensive but terribly bland sitcom (I belong to this group) and others feel that it is a blot on the television landscape, considering the show that preceded it.  (Not surprisingly, no one has come to the defense that it is a true television classic, because we’re all reasonably sane people.)  But I will submit to you that the surefire formula for an above-average episode of R.F.D.—defined as one that you could actually watch a second (or third, if you take into consideration how much wine you’ve drank) time—is simply this: put pedantic county clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) on television and hilarity eventually ensues.

One of the funniest of all the R.F.D. outings is an early first season episode entitled “The Panel Show,” in which Howard and fix-it savant Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman) are selected from those Mayberrians capable of walking erect to participate in a hard-hitting TV debate program (the subject being city life vs. country life) taped in New York.  Howard and Emmett journey to the Big Apple, and while Emmett remains the same curmudgeonly, know-nothing rube we’ve come to know and mock…Howard becomes mesmerized by the trappings of big city life and reveals to his hometown friends that he’s unmistakably gay.


Okay, I’m just kidding about that.  Be that as it may, Howard is able to make amends for his goofy behavior by composing a poem that poor-but-honest-dirt-farmer-turned-town-council-head Sam Jones (Ken Berry) sends to the newspapers and reads aloud to the townsfolk planning to shop at the local Tar ‘N Feather for supplies to run Mistah Sprague out of town.  The solution works: the angry mob is reduced to tears, and Howard is rehabilitated in their good graces…such as they are.


Another rib-tickling R.F.D. outing, “The Mynah Bird,” finds our hapless county clerk a guest on a local kids’ show called Circus Party for the purposes of showing off his pet mynah MacBeth…not realizing that MacBeth has been switched to one of the non-talking mynah variety, thanks to Sam’s son Mike the Idiot Boy (Buddy Foster) and his craven sidekick Harold (Richard “Fishface” Steele).  Again, because it was unseemly to have an unhappy ending in a sitcom at that time in TV history, Howard is able to save face before a television audience when his proper bird is restored in the nick of time.

With that windy introduction out of the way, this week’s Mayberry Mondays installment is entitled “Howard, the Dream Spinner”—and it combines the surefire laugh-getting devices of Howard on TV with Howard spouting poetry (a method used not only in the aforementioned “Panel Show” but also “Howard the Poet”).  The episode gets underway with a scene at Mayberry’s diner; Sam and village idiot Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) are seated at a counter when a comely waitress asks the two gents what they’ll have.

“I’ll just have the coffee for now,” mutters Goob as he still struggles to read the menu.  But looking up, he notices that the waitress is a new one in the establishment.  “Well, hello there!” he greets her hornily.


Sam introduces her as “Edna Pritchard” (no explanation as to how they met—something I’m sure his girlfriend would be interested) and “nice to meetcha’s” are exchanged.  But Edna must think we’re been asleep for eight years…because we know she’s no stranger to Mayberry—she’s Charlene Darling-Wash, object of affection to demented hillbilly Ernest T. Bass (Howard Morris)!

Okay, that’s because the part of Edna is played by Maggie Peterson-Mancuso (billed here as Margaret Ann Peterson in an effort to throw us off the trail).  Peterson was born on January 10, 1941 in Greeley, CO and spent much of her formative years in a musical quartet with her brother Jim and two of his friends until the group happened to perform at a Capitol Records convention in 1954.  There she attracted the attention of Andy Griffith’s manager, Richard O. Linke, who suggested that the group come see him once Maggie had graduated high school.  The Ja-Da Quartet, as they were known, did a few TV shows (Perry Como’s, Pat Boone’s, etc.) and released an album in 1959 (It’s the Most Happy Sound) but soon broke up shortly after.  So Maggie landed another gig (with The Ernie Mariani Trio) and after meeting Andy Griffith Show scribe Aaron Ruben and director Bob Sweeney, was cast as attractive mountain gal Charlene Darling (“Paw—can’t I just look at the pretty man?”) in the episode that introduced both the Darling clan and Ernest T., “The Darlings are Coming” (03/18/63).

The Andy Griffith Show episodes featuring Peterson (there were five “Darlings” outings, plus a sixth episode from Season 8 in which she played a girl named Doris in “A Girl for Goober”) are probably her best-known television work, though she also guest starred in episodes of Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C., Green Acres, Love, American Style and The Odd Couple.  But her most frequent boob tube gig was doing what she does in this episode—in the second season of The Bill Dana Show; Peterson joined the cast as coffee shop waitress Susie.  (One of these days I hope to finish a post I started about that series many, many moons ago.)  Today as Maggie Mancuso, Peterson works in the bidness as a location scout for film and TV shows.

But let’s get back to the coffee shop in Mayberry.  We learn from the following dialogue exchange that waitress Edna is a woman of literary talents.

GOOBER: Uh…I don’t see the salmon loaf on here…
EDNA: Oh…um…well, when Mr. Benson let me write up the menu I sort of…fancied it up a little… (Pointing to the menu) There it is…”Salmon Surprise”…”An aquatic delight from the ocean’s briny deep…”
GOOBER: Hey…that’s pretty good, huh, Sam?
SAM: Yeah…that sounds a whole lot better than plain ol’ salmon loaf…
GOOBER (his face falls slightly): Does it cost more?
EDNA: Oh, no!  It’s still ninety cents!

Look, I know that while salmon are essentially freshwater fish that migrate to the ocean—do they really qualify as “briny deep” inhabitants?  Well, this is just nitpicking on my part—Edna excuses herself because she has an order to pick up, and then syndication-mandated editing finds Sam entering the council office, where we can hear his girlfriend, bakery doyenne Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka) excitedly shouting his name.  (No, I’m not going to go there.)

MILLIE (excited): Sam…Howard has the most exciting news!
SAM: Oh, really?  What’s up, Howard?
HOWARD: Well…
MILLIE (interrupting): Howard is actually…no…no no no no no…I don’t want to spoil it…you tell him, Howard… (She begins giggling loudly)
HOWARD: Well, Sam…as a matter of fact…
MILLIE (interrupting again): Howard’s going to be a television star!
SAM: A television star?
MILLIE: Uh-huh!!
SAM: Really?
MILLIE: Well, it actually…
HOWARD (his turn to interrupt): Actually, as you know, Sam…the newspaper in Mt. Pilot owns the television station, and it seems that my literary efforts in my weekly column “Mayberry Happenings” have attracted the attention of the big brass…

Oh…kiss my brass, Howard.  They probably need something to fill in the time slot between Judge Judy and Katie.

SAM: Well…
HOWARD: …they want me to do a fifteen-minute television program called The Poet’s Corner
SAM: Oh…
MILLIE: Isn’t that wonderful, Sam!
SAM: Oh…yeah…that’s swell, Howard!  What time is it going to be on?

“…so I can make every effort to avoid it!”  Because let’s not kid ourselves—the only way anyone enjoys poetry is if it’s a cartoon moose reciting it.  Howard says that it will be on three afternoons at week, starting at five…and in the following scene; Sam and Millie watch The Poet’s Corner in the council office.  (By the way, I’m on record as saying that I prefer Millie-with-a-bob from the first season, but I kind of like the way she wears her hair in this episode).


This gentleman introducing the poet laureate of Mayberry is Dick Whittinghill, a longtime radio announcer/disc jockey for KMPC in Los Angeles from 1950 to 1979.  (He later moved to rival KPRZ after his retirement—and passed away in 2001.)  Whittinghill, who was a one-time member of the musical aggregation The Pied Pipers, also did some TV (he was a friend of TDOY god Jack Webb, appearing on both Dragnet and Adam-12) and movies, which include Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? and Moon Pilot.

ANNOUNCER: …and now…to bring you this…quiet oasis…in amidst this workaday world…here is…Mayberry’s own…Howard Sprague…The Dream Spinner…

“Ohhhh…dream spinner/I believe you can get me through the niiiiight…”

MILLIE: Oh, here he comes…here he comes!


Actually, now that I think about it…anytime you stick a pipe in Howard’s mouth it’s pretty much comedy gold.


HOWARD: Good afternoon…I would like to begin our little journey into the world of poetry today…with a romantic classic by Edgar Allan Poe…the simple and touching…Annabel Lee

Howard starts to read the poem, humorously accompanied by an organ rendition of Beautiful Dreamer, which I’m guessing is the Dream Spinner’s theme song.  As Howard reads from Poe, Millie and Sam give an enthusiastic thumbs-up on Howard’s new TV venture.

MILLIE: Oh, isn’t that beautiful
SAM: Yeah…Howard’s doing a real great job!


But over at the fix-it shop, the Siskel and Ebert of Mayberry have a different take on Howard’s program…probably because Siskel is watching it on an antique set someone dropped off at the shop some twenty years ago.  (Well, and the fact that Howard is choking on his pipe by then, too.)  Countdown to Vosburg laughter in five…four…three…two…one…


EMMETT: That darn TV set…we hardly saw Howard at all!
GOOBER: Well, that’s okay…it worked long enough to see how rotten he is…

There is then a cut back to the council office and Cousin Alice (Alice Ghostley) has stopped by to justify being added to the opening credits of this show’s third season.

ALICE: Anything special you’d like for supper, Sam?

“Oh, for appetizers I thought we’d start with goat cheese medallions and hot ripe olives roasted with garlic…then a second course of creamy cucumber soup with slivers of sweet onion, followed by a salad of fresh Japanese persimmons and sliced green peppers on fresh lettuce leaves, then stracotto al Barolo: slices of rare beef braised in red wine sauce with Italian tomatoes, onions, celery and fresh thyme.  I thought we would then cleanse our palates with a mint sorbet before plunging into the main entrée, individual lobster tails poached in butter.  And then a luscious crème caramel served in buttered ramekins to follow.”

SAM: No…no…no thanks, Alice…anything again will be fine with me…
ALICE: Okay…I’ll see you later…
SAM: Yeah…

Alice is all set to go home and whip up her specialty, creamed chipped beef on toast, when she catches a glance of Howard through the council office window.  “Goodness gracious!” she exclaims.

“Why…what’s the matter?” Sam asks, to which she replies “Wait till you see the Dream Spinner…”


Howard, my man…you are the gift that keeps on giving.

HOWARD: Hello, all!
SAM: Oh…hello, Howard…how…how are you?
HOWARD: “God’s in his heaven, and all’s right with the world”…Browning…

Must be why he’s wearing sunglasses…though a little sun block wouldn’t hurt him, either… (Get it?  Browning?  Is this thing on?)

ALICE: Did the Mt. Pilot station think your program was well received?
HOWARD: Oh, yes indeed…they forwarded me my first batch of fan mail
SAM: Fan mail?
HOWARD: From my vast unseen public…

Annnnnd there’s a reason for that.  But Howard, who’s never more hilarious than when he’s full of himself, takes time to read one of the many, many letters he’s received from out there in Television Lant.

HOWARD: Just as an example, listen to what Muriel Doolittle of Walkertown has to say…”Dear Dream Spinner…I watched your first program and thought it was real good…your poetry was real good, too…I’ve heard of Edgar Allan Poe someplace before…I think in a movie by Vincent Price…”

Every episode…one laugh-out-loud moment.

HOWARD: “My mother and sister thinks you are real good, too…”
ALICE: Howard, that’s wonderful
HOWARD: Well, I have to be running…to paraphrase Milton, “I must thus leave thee…”

And thus leave he does…but in another syndication-mandated cut, he winds up at the humble bidness establishment of Emmett Clark, ready to regale its proprietor and a visiting idiot with tales from his adoring public.

HOWARD (reading a letter): “…and I feel your program is a romantic island in a sea of turmoil and strife…I’m enclosing a poem I wrote in case you’d care to read it on the air…a devoted admirer…”  How ‘bout that, fellas?  A devoted (he sniffs the perfumed letter) feminine admirer…

Whatever pours your coffee, Howard.

EMMETT: Well, I suppose that poetry stuff is bound to bring out a bunch of crank letters…even more if you wear that outfit…
HOWARD: Emmett, these aren’t crank letters…they’re expressions of thanks for my poetic readings…
GOOBER: Well, we didn’t get to see much of your program last time, Howard…just the part where you were chokin’ to death
HOWARD: Well, I recovered very nicely after the first commercial, thank you…
EMMETT: Are you gonna do that lady’s poem on the air?
HOWARD: I may…reading contributions like this could help establish a rapport with my viewers…
EMMETT: Yeah…I still remember a Valentine Day’s poem that came in a box of candy I sent to Martha once…

What a memory you have!

EMMETT: “My thoughts on this day flatter you like a sparrow/In hopes you’ll be struck by Dan Cupid’s arrow…”
HOWARD: Emmett, that’s hardly a literary gem…
GOOBER: Hey, Howard….I got a great poim you can read on the TV…
HOWARD: Well, uh, thank you, Goober…but…
GOOBER: “I come from a planet beyond the moon/To blast your cities and seal your doom…”  Captain Whammo’s always sayin’ that in Space Age Comics
HOWARD (with a look of disgust): Fellas…as the Dream Spinner
                                                                                      
“Ohhhh…dream spinner/I believe you can get me through the niiiiight…”

HOWARD: …I’m aiming my program at lovers of culture
EMMETT: Well, we were just tryin’ to help…are you tryin’ to call Goober and me dumb or somethin’?


Emmett must be practicing to be a lawyer, since he asks a lot of questions to which he already knows the answers.

HOWARD: No, of course not…but I hardly think Milton got his inspiration from a box of candy or the comic book set…
GOOBER: Milton who?

Captain WhammoMilton who,” mutters Howard in disgust as he exits Emmett’s shop.  Needless to say, Mayberry’s resident Manchild is a little nonplussed at being dismissed as Howard’s intellectual inferior…something you would think he’d be used to sixty-seven episodes in.

GOOBER (mimicking Howard): “Captain Whammo…Milton who…”  Boy, that Howard’s really gotten snooty since he got that TV program…
EMMETT: Yeah, who does he think he is—sneerin’ at our poetry?
GOOBER: Yeah, I’d bet he’d be glad to use it if it came from a (more mimicking) feminine admirer
EMMETT: Yeah…him and his romantic fan letters…
GOOBER (after a pause): Hey Emmett…what if we sent Howard a poim and he thought it came from a feminine admirer?
EMMETT: Huh?

Here’s Goober diabolical scheme: the two of them will compose a “mushy love letter” to Howard with a “poim” that they’ll ask him to read on the air.  When he does, they’ll have the last laugh and there’ll be much hooting and poo-flinging.  “You know, Goober,” Emmett says to his chum, “for somebody in the comic book set you really come up with some great ideers…”

While this deviltry is going on, His Snootiness is taking a brisk stroll through the park when he meets up with Sam’s slightly stupid son Mike.  Because Mike doesn’t recognize Howard in his “Hollywood producer getup,” Howard has to remove his sunglasses to reveal his true identity.

MIKE: Oh…it’s you, Mr. Sprague…
HOWARD: Say, Mike…you didn’t happen to…catch my little TV program the other day—did you?
MIKE: Oh, sure…Cousin Alice made me watch it…
HOWARD: Oh…well…what did you think?
MIKE: It’s okay….but tell me something, Mr. Sprague…is that the same Edgar Allan Poe from the Vincent Price pictures?

Mike with the callback win this week!  “Yes, Mike…the very same,” says Howard, crestfallen that he’s been beaten by an idiot child.  Meanwhile, back in the lab:

EMMETT (putting his pen down): There…that does it…
GOOBER: Read back whatcha got…
EMMETT: Okay…”Dear Dream Spinner”…

“Ohhhh…dream spinner/I believe you can get me through the niiiiight…”

EMMETT: “Watching you on television…and hearing you read that beautiful poetry…I feel like I have known you all my life…your melodious voice thrills me more than I can say…”
GOOBER: Ha!  That melodious voice thing oughta get to him…
EMMETT: Yeah…yeah…”I hope you can read the enclosed poem I wrote for you…because it expresses my fondness feelings as I sit in front of my TV set…yours forever, Melissa…”

I would reference the old Allman Brothers Band tune here but I only had enough funds to use Gary Wright’s Dream Weaver for this post.  Emmett is inspired to call Howard’s fictional lover “Melissa” because “Martha used to watch a soap opera that had a Melissa on it.”  But these two chuckleheads will need a woman to write the letter for her handwriting, and after dismissing Millie as a participant Goober tells Emmett that Edna would be the perfect candidate.  “She’s got beautiful handwriting—when she writes out the menu she calls corned beef hash ‘a symphony of dining’ and all that stuff!”  So as Goober gets ready to go over and ask for Edna’s help, Emmett produces the “poim” they will use—which he liberates from an old feed store calendar.  Reading aloud the poem, Goober remarks: “Boy, is that corny—Captain Whammo wouldn’t be caught dead with a hunk of junk like this!”

EDNA: Well…sure, Goober—I’ll copy it on some fancy stationery and mail it today…
GOOBER: That’s swell, Edna…boy…
EDNA: Uh…now you’re sure this Howard Sprague’s a good friend of yours…?
GOOBER: Oh, he’ll get a big kick out of this whole thing when we tell him!

Somebody’s going to be getting a kicking, all right…but it won’t be Howard.  Well…on second thought…Howard’s not much of an ass-kicking guy.  We break for a commercial, and when we come back it’s time for another installment…of The Poet’s Corner

(By the way—the fact that Goober and Emmett are watching this on the same TV set from earlier would seem to suggest…that Emmett actually repaired it.)

HOWARD (on TV): Now…another request…this one from a lady in Mayberry who signs herself…”Melissa”…
GOOBER (excitedly): Hey!  That’s it!  That’s us!
EMMETT: Yeah!  He fell for it!
GOOBER: Shh!!!  Here he goes…
HOWARD (on TV): I want to thank you, Melissa, for your very touching and personal letter…I could tell from your words…and from your handwriting…that you’re a very warm and sincere person with a true appreciation of beauty…and now if I may…I’d like to read the poem you wrote…inspired, as you say, by…your Dream Spinner…

“Ohhhh…dream spinner/I believe you can get me through the niiiiight…”

GOOBER: He’s gonna read it!  He’s gonna read it!
HOWARD: “Our love survives/March winds that blow/Defies November’s/Early snow/Mocks Old Man Winter’s/Icy hand/When chill December/Grips the land/As long as we/Are not apart/It’s always springtime/In my heart…”


“He fell for it!  Hook, line and sinker!” guffaws Emmett as the two of them nearly fall off the chairs they’re sitting on.  And with a practical joke of this magnitude…it’s only a matter of time before they succumb to the temptation to let others in on the fun…

SAM: What are you guys talking about?  Huh?
EMMETT (as he and Goober can’t stop laughing): We sent Howard a phony letter and signed it “Melissa”!  And he went for it!
GOOBER: Don’t you get it?!! “Melissa”—that’s us!  We’re “Melissa”!  One of his… (He tries to catch his breath but he’s laughing too hard) …feminine admirers!

Why Sam hasn’t pondered at this point as to whether Emmett and Goober have news for themselves I will leave up to you to speculate.

SAM: Boy, I’d be careful if I were you…practical jokes like that can get out of hand…

“He never wants to go cow tipping either, Goob.”

SAM: …Howard takes that program pretty seriously…
EMMETT (still laughing): Oh, he’s takin’ it too seriously…he’s turned into a regular stuffed shirt…
SAM: Well…maybe…I’ll see you guys later…

“I’m going in search of adult company.  Maybe Mike knows some kids.”  Sam moseys off, leaving his easily amused comrades in hysterics.  “Oh, you don’t look like a Melissa to me,” chortles Goober, as the subtext starts to get a little uncomfortable.  Meanwhile, the actress playing the part of “Melissa” is given another letter to write.

EDNA: Another letter for the Dream Spinner?

“Ohhhh…dream spinner/I believe you can get me through the niiiiight…”

GOOBER: Yeah…
EDNA (glancing at the letter): Ah…this one’s shorter than the last one…
GOOBER: Oh, that’s okay…we just wanna him to give a signal to Melissa on the TV screen…like when Carol Burnett yanks on her ear
EDNA (reading a little more): You want him to touch his moustache?
GOOBER: Yeah…Emmett wanted him to throw a kiss!  But this was my idea…

Anyone in here warm besides me?  I think I’ll open this window…

EDNA: Well, okay…I’ll copy it and mail it, but…uh…I hope you fellas know what you’re doing…

This, by the way, is Edna’s “tell” to let the audience know she’s not lived in Mayberry that long.  Speaking of tells, the Carol Burnett Show reference—while amusing in itself—gets a little added verisimilitude when you know that the comedy-variety series aired one half hour after R.F.D. in the 1970-71 season (The Doris Day Show, our next project here at TDOY, was sandwiched in between).  Carol’s show didn’t actually become a Saturday night staple until its seventh season.

HOWARD (on TV): ..and I want to thank…one of my most faithful listeners…that elusive creature who signs herself…”Melissa”…for her most recent warm…and sincere letter…


Okay…even I had to laugh at that bit.  But not quite as hard as Emmett and Goober, who nearly fall off their bench in hysterics (with Goober imitating Howard’s “moustache sweep”).  Well, looking at my watch I see it’s time for the shocking dramatic plot twist, so on to the council office!

HOWARD: Uh…Sam?  Could I talk to you about…something rather…personal…?

“No.  Thanks for stopping by, Howard.”

SAM: Well, sure!  Hey…you look pretty serious
HOWARD (taking a deep breath): Well…a man’s usually serious when…Cupid’s arrow finds its mark…
SAM: Oh?
HOWARD: Strange as it may sound, Sam…I…I think love has finally come to Howard Sprague…

“I have to admit, buddy…it does sound strange.”

SAM: Well, say…this is news!  Who’s the girl?
HOWARD: Well, that’s the problem, Sam…we’ve never met…I only know her from her letters—she’s a devoted viewer of The Poet’s Corner… (Sam smiles) She calls herself “Melissa”…

Wait for it…


Boinnnngggg!!! That is the look of a man who’s just pictured Howard in a rented tux standing in front of a minister with Goober and Emmett wearing bridal gowns.  A lesser man would bolt out of the council office right now and head for his farm…then drink all of the antifreeze in his tractor.

SAM: Melissa?  Uh…Howard…look…i-i-if…if you only know this girl through her letters…well…why, you have no idea what she looks like or anything!
HOWARD: No, but I know, Sam, she’s right for me…yes, I can tell from her words…from her handwriting…from the poem she wrote…Robert Browning must have felt this way when he received the first letters from Elizabeth Barrett…

Hoo boy.

SAM: Look…Howard…I think you’re being pretty impractical about this thing…besides—if you only know her first name, there’s…there’s no way you can even find out who she is!
HOWARD: Well, I intend to try…I’m going to ask her on the air to send me her address!  To answer in kind the yearnings of a happy heart…
SAM: Oh, brother…

I don’t want to watch this…and yet I’m powerless to look away.

HOWARD: What do you mean, “oh brother”?  What kind of a reaction is that?
SAM: No…I’m sorry, Howard…I’m sorry…it’s just that I’m…trying to size up this whole situation, that’s all…look…I think you ought to forget about this Melissa…yeah…don’t…don’t talk to her on the air…just…don’t…don’t try to contact her at all…just…drop the whole thing and put her out of your mind…
HOWARD: Well, now that’s strange advice when you see how much she means to me!  I mean, I come in here and bare my soul to my best friend…I can’t ignore her, Sam!  I expect to get more letters from Melissa and I intend to track her down!
SAM: That’s just it, Howard—you’re not gonna get any more letters from Melissa!
HOWARD: Well, how can you say that?
SAM: I guarantee it!

Sam can’t quite tip his hand that he knows “Melissa” is in actuality a couple of chowderheads whose idea of a fun Saturday afternoon is watching the bread truck being unloaded at the A&P.  He tries to get Howard to believe that his lady love is “some silly kid with a schoolgirl infatuation” and that now that she’s had her fun, she’ll probably move on to other things.

But Howard remains stubbornly steadfast:  “I must say, I expected a more understanding and romantic attitude from a man who knows all the words to Carolina Moon.”  So once again, Sam must come off the bench and substitute for Andy Taylor, who’s probably doubled over with laughter at his investigator’s job in Raleigh, having been clued into the particulars of this little poetry experiment.

EMMETT: Sam…we were just pullin’ a harmless little joke…I don’t see what you’re gettin’ so upset about…
SAM: Because I just left Howard…and the poor guy has completely flipped over this phony “Melissa”…now, I never thought the idea was too funny in the first place…and now, thanks to you guys, Howard’s built up such an image of this girl—he thinks he’s in love with her!
EMMETT: I’m sorry…we didn’t wanna do anybody any harm…we just won’t send him any more letters…
SAM: Yeah…and you’re gonna do something else, too…y-you just can’t leave him hanging there in mid-air…you’re gonna go talk to Howard, and you’re gonna tell him the truth…
EMMETT: Oh, but Sam…
SAM: …and you’re gonna apologize for pulling that dumb stunt!  (He starts for his car)
GOOBER (following him): Sam…he’s gonna be sore
SAM: Sure!  He’s gonna be sore…but at least he’ll appreciate the fact that you realize you made a mistake…knowing Howard…well…eventually he’ll forgive you…

Assuming he doesn’t go insane and attack you with a scythe.  “Oh, and another thing,” adds Sam as he prepares to drive off.  “You’d better tell him today…’cause if you don’t, I will.”  (Maybe it’s just me…but that sounded like a threat.)

“Boy, Emmett…you and your brilliant ideas!” fumes Goober as he stomps off toward his office in the gas station.  But I think Goob’s overreacting here…my prediction is that Howard will take this jape all in stride, and the three of them will enjoy a hearty chuckle about what rapscallions Goober and Emmett can be.


Okay…so my batting average is somewhere around Criswell’s.  I never claimed to be a true psychic.

GOOBER: That’s right, Howard…we’re “Melissa”…me and Emmett…
HOWARD: But…I simply can’t believe it!  How?

So Frick and Frack explain to Howard how they pulled off the elaborate ruse: getting Edna to write the letters, the feed store calendar poems, etc.  Both men are insistent, however, that Edna’s participation was minimal outside of supplying the handwriting.  Nevertheless, Howard is crushed: “I suppose I’ll get over this someday…I don’t know how long it will take…in the meantime…the kindest thing you could do for me is…never mention it again.”

Emmett and Goober both agree, but as you are fully aware by now Goober cannot recede from any scene without saying something moronic.  “I hope this won’t keep you from lettin’ me service your car,” he tells Howard, as Emmett punches him in the back and drags his ass out the door.

With a scene dissolve, we find Sam back in the council office and Howard entering with an envelope in his hand.  He does not look happy.

HOWARD: They’ve done it again
SAM: What?  Who?
HOWARD: Those idiots…Goober and Emmett…

A little redundant, but since we’re close to wrapping this up I’ll let it slide.

HOWARD (showing him the envelope): “Melissa’s” handwriting…
SAM: Oh, no…oh, those…crazy guys…you’d think after all that happened, they’d have enough sense to quit… (Howard turns back toward the door) Wait…where are you going, Howard?  No…now…wait a minute…look, I don’t blame you for being angry…but I don’t think you oughta go see those guys until you’ve cooled down a little bit…
HOWARD: No, don’t worry…I’m not going near Goober and Emmett…I’ll probably never speak to them again!

I’m sure Goob and Emmett see that as a win-win.  “But I am going down to the diner and find this Edna and tell her to cut it out!”  And in the next scene, he does just that.

HOWARD: I realize you don’t know me, Edna…that you thought you were probably helping your friends with what seemed like a very big joke…but…
EDNA: Actually, Mr. Sprague…
HOWARD: I want you to know even if they don’t that the joke is over… (Handing her the envelope) You can return this to them if you like without my compliments…
(Howard gets up, ready to leave)
EDNA: Howard…uh…Mrs. Sprague...
HOWARD: Yes?
EDNA: Don’t blame them for this letter…it was my own idea…
HOWARD: What?
EDNA: Well, I think if you opened it you’d understand…

Howard’s still a bit pissy to even open the letter: “I’m surprised that you’d continue with a joke that wasn’t even funny in the first place!”  So Edna does it for him.

EDNA: “Dear Dream Spinner…”

“Ohhhh…dream spinner/I believe you can get me through the niiiiight…”  (Speaking of jokes that weren’t even funny in the first place…)

EDNA: “…this is to…apologize…for my part in a very childish prank…watching you on the air I’ve learned to admire you as a very warm and sensitive person…one who’s truly devoted to a love of poetry…and beauty…”
HOWARD (finishing the letter): “Your sincere reply to these letters on your program…has made me quite ashamed…and I must confess, more than a little…envious of the imaginary Melissa…sincerely…Edna Pritchard…”  (Awkward pause) It’s really very…touching letter…I…must say your honesty and charm are every bit as commendable as your handwriting...
EDNA (smiling with embarrassment): Oh, Mr. Sprague…
HOWARD (chuckling): Call me Howard…

Ah, Howard…you’ve discovered one of the perks of being in the broadcasting biz: a groupie.  Howard asks if he might take her out for a ride when she’s finished her shift, and Edna explains that she’s done with work for today—she was just finishing up tomorrow’s menu.  As she gathers her things, Sam comes by the diner, alibing that he’s just there “for a bite” but he’s probably concerned about Howard strangling Edna—and that’s when he learns that the two of them are headed up to a secluded area for some hot monkey sex.  As they get ready to go, Sam notices a new item on the menu:

EDNA: Oh, that!
SAM: Uh-huh…
EDNA: That’s frozen Indian curry with imported spices…
SAM: Well…how ‘bout that, Howard?  She calls it…uh…”Dream Spinner Surprise”…

“Well,” replies Howard, flustered.  “Elizabeth Barrett Browning couldn’t have said it better.”  I digress…plus I think the odds of finding a curry dish in a Mayberry diner are as remote as my winning a triathlon.  So let’s get to the coda of this thing…

We find Howard, Millie and Alice in the council office, helping Sam stuff and lick envelopes—with Millie kidding Howard about his new girlfriend Edna in a sing-song fashion, and Alice mooning over the way the two of them met.  Sam invites Howard to double date with him and Millie at the movies next Saturday.

HOWARD: Ah, gee, Sam…next Saturday I promised to take Edna up to Myers’ Lake
ALICE: Myers’ Lake…oh ho ho ho ho…

More hot monkey sex!

HOWARD: Well, she’s never seen it…and according to the almanac, there’s gonna be a full moon…
MILLIE: Oh, Howard…
HOWARD: I told Edna that if the…surface conditions were favorable, I could skip a stone halfway across…
SAM: Well…by all means…let’s hope for…favorable surface conditions

Well, it’s not the train going in the tunnel at the end of North by Northwest…but it will have to do.  (Personally, I think it would have been funnier if Ernest T. Bass had come gunning for Howard, after mistaking Edna for Charlene.)

Cousin Alice’s participation in this week’s episode (come to think of it—the whole gang showed up for this one!) means that Thrilling Days of Yesteryear’s patented Alice-o-Meter™ moves up a notch to six appearances for the Aunt Bee wannabe in the third and final season of the sitcom.  Next week, a dreary exercise entitled “Millie’s Egg Farm”—which I might have enjoyed more had it been first-season-cute-bob Millie.  But it does feature an appearance from an actress who would later create a memorable character in Tim Burton’s debut feature film.

You know, I try to point out continuity errors on this show whenever I can…but I don’t always bat 1.000, and while searching for an earlier essay I wrote on the episode “Howard the Poet” I made an interesting discovery.  Episode #60 is called “Howard’s Nephew,” and it’s an equally tiresome installment that features the titular character, a kid named “Spud” who is not a bowtie-wearing dweeb like his county clerk uncle but rather a disreputable hippie who longs for a simple life of hanging out by himself in the woods as far from civilization as possible.  The inspiration for this lifestyle comes from Spud’s familiarity with Henry David Thoreau, author of Walden, and at one point in “Nephew” we eavesdrop on this conversation between Howard, Sam and Emmett:

HOWARD: Well, I found out what his alternative is…
SAM: Oh, yeah?  What’d he say?
HOWARD: He wants to follow the lead of Henry David Thoreau!
EMMETT: Who’s he?
HOWARD: He was a nineteenth century philosopher, Emmett, who decided he wanted to withdraw from civilization…so what he did, he set himself up in a shack in the woods and lived off the land…
EMMETT: Ah…a nut, huh?

In episode #60, Emmett has no idea who Thoreau is.  But he should—because he actually reads Walden in episode #29, “Howard the Poet”!

AUNT BEE: Ladies…ladies and gentlemen…now…I realize tonight that our meeting of the Literary Club was to be a discussion devoted to Thoreau’s Walden…but… (Noticing a hand up) Yes, Emmett?
EMMETT: I read it…
AUNT BEE: Fine…but tonight…
EMMETT: …and you can have it!

Emmett later asks token black resident Ralph Barton (Charles Lampkin) if he’s read the book, and upon getting a negative answer he explains: “It’s about this nut who couldn’t get along with anybody, so he goes out in the woods…”

Suffice it to say, I completely forgot about this incident…and as clearly indicated, so did the person in charge of continuity on this show.  But what might be a glaring error on another sitcom actually isn’t too out of place on Mayberry R.F.D.—it’s evidence that Emmett is slowly in the throes of senile dementia.  (Though in the fix-it man’s defense he does point out that Thoreau is a “nut” on both occasions.)

Okay…don’t forget: “Millie’s Egg Farm” next week.  Be there.  Aloha!

6 comments:

Chris Vosburg said...

I was rolling on the floor long before "Chris Vosburg laughter in five..four"

Ivan, I say this often, and I'll say it again, as long as you keep doing it: your best and funniest post ever, from cartoon moose to antifreeze in the tractor and everything beyond, this had me in stitches.

And oddly, so did the ep itself. It's actually very funny [shaking head in disbelief], and it's like MRFD found it's stride, sort of. Long may it run!

And lastly (yeah that'll be the day), the shot of Howard in the Comfy Chair reminded me of the local PBS channel's clumsy attempt to rerun a classic sixties TV series with a presenter to Explain It All For You.

A bona fide psychologist, in a winged armchair, with pipe in mouth, and bookcases in background and dog at his feet, explaining the psychological ramifications of what was up with Patrick McGoohan's "The Prisoner".

Seriously, he'd smarmily lay out the plot points of each ep, patiently explaining to us poor uneducated plebes what was really going on.

And he got most of it wrong, the dope.

He was laughed off the air after three eps, for which I'm grateful, because I was about ready to throw a cinderblock at the TeeVee.

Chris Vosburg said...

Also, for those who wondered what an "ascot" was when I mentioned Thurl Ravenscroft wearing one in comment a while back, Howard splendidly dishes out this form of neckwear in several of the captured stills.

Also, cringed to see the badge of bad sixties fashion, enormous collar lapels worn outside the jacket. I don't think I ever succumbed to this, but can't guarantee that. I thankfully recall there are no photographs of myself in that era.

Howard Sprague: Hollywood.
Hollywood: Howard Sprague.

Chris Vosburg said...

And Millie with her hair up was cute, but Millie with her hair down must have made Standards and Practices squirm in their seats a bit.

Rowrrr.

Mike Doran said...

In re Millie's hair:

I'm wondering if anybody besides me noticed that Maggie Peterson and Arlene Golonka looked enough alike to be plausibly cast as sisters?

And, given Maggie's pre-existing relationship with the Mayberry-Griffith-Linke complex, could this be why Arlene was the one who had to change her hair for this occasion?

Coincidence?

You decide ...

Stacia said...

Aaaaagh I'm a week behind and missed a Howard episode! Noooooouuuuuuu...

By the way, DYING at those screencaps of Howard you got from the previous episodes. Oh, Howard.

Ken Berry's face, especially during the BOIINNGG moment? Absolutely priceless. I woke up cats laughing at your joke about the wedding and the antifreeze.

I like Arlene's hair better in this episode than usual, I think because it doesn't look like a wig. Oh, I know that helmet hair often looked like a wig when it wasn't (thank you, Aquanet), but the more natural look suits her.

Gotta agree with Chris, this was the best write-up yet, out of a whole bunch of excellent ones.

Stacia said...

Just commenting to get comment notifications. Thanks, Blogger! (Dinks...)