I have to tell you, cartooners…this week’s Doris Day(s) was a real chore to do—because of all the episodes of The Doris Day Show I’ve watched so far, this is one of the worst. As Leonard Pinth-Garnell (Dan Aykroyd) might say on Bad Playhouse: “Stunningly bad!”
The episode opens with Webb Farms handyman Leroy B.
LEROY: Country Music Jubilee…listen to this…”Country songwriters,
attention…we need your lyrics! Last
year, Pee-Wee Harwood made more than $250,000 with his country-and-western
hits… (Whistles)
Sure indication that you’re talking to an old person: anyone
who refers to the music as “country-and-western.” Case in point: my parents, who continue to
call it that despite the fact that it ceased being “western” eons ago.
Sure you do! His
biggest hit was “She Broke My Heart, So I Broke Her Neck.”
LEROY: He’s only been one of the
biggest country-and-western songwriters for the last ten years…you must have
heard his biggest hit…
“You Used to Be the Cream in My Coffee—But Now You’re Just
Grounds for Divorce.”
LEROY: “I’m Just a Caboose in Your
Train of Thought”…
Leroy sings a snatch of Harwood’s multi-platinum selling
song, and puts enough twang into it so the audience realizes it’s
country-and-western. When he finishes
the part about “travelin’ through the tunnel of despair” Doris
adds a “Woo woo!” train effect, indicating she may have come across the tune at
one time. “Well, it was on every jukebox
in town anyway,” offers Leroy.
The two of them then do a little comedy bit where Doris
attempts to talk to Leroy but the two of them keep “missing” each other as they
poke their heads under and above the table.
This isn’t funny, but Leroy bumping his fool head on the underside of
the table when Buck (Denver Pyle) walks in, calling his name, did make me
snicker.
LEROY: Unfinished business?
LEROY: Oh…yes, sir…I’ll get right
to it… (He downs the rest of his milk and gets up from the table)
Jesus, Mary and Joseph—that coffee cup is huge. No wonder Buck’s always a crankypants, what with his caffeine intake and all. “That was a little joke,”
“It sure was,” acknowledges Buck. Okay, I did laugh at this only because my Mom
and I do a similar routine where, after making a joke, I say in a ridiculous
accent: “I make leetle joke.”
“Very leetle,” is usually her response. But back to Doris —the
scene fades out with her singing “I’m Just a Caboose in Your Train of Thought”
with Buck smiling in approval. The scene
shifts to the barn, where Leroy sits up in the hayloft with a pad of paper and
pencil, working on becoming a country-and-western songwriter. “They buried her under the silo/White the
cows and horses cried,” he says to himself.
(Don’t quit that day job, Dobbs.)
A scene outside the barn finds Buck walking around and bellowing “Leroy!”
LEROY: Did the mail come yet?
LEROY: Yes, ma’am…it’s empty…
LEROY: Thank you!
This next bit with the postman made me misty with nostalgia…for two reasons. First, “Henry the Mailman” is played by
But what also made me sentimental about this was…well, contrary to what you may think—I was not always a dazzling urbanite; I grew up in a rural part of West Virginia (at that time 98% of the Mountain State was rural) where we got our mail in the same fashion—a guy delivered it from a station wagon. I don’t remember when I saw my first actual mail truck—it might have been the same time I saw someone actually delivering the mail by walking, which was on my first trip to Savannah, GA.
In this screen cap, you can see the family’s mailbox and just make out the zip code: 91405. That’s a
HENRY: Nice day, isn’t it?
HENRY: No…no…nothing for Leroy…
Leroy arrives at the wagon, and is disappointed to find no
mail for him. He even badgers Henry if
he “looked in the back seat real good” and offers that something might have
fallen out of the sack. Or it’s possible
that it got mixed up in another bag, because personal experience has proven that
the USPS never makes a mistake, he said, choking on his orange juice.
LEROY: Henry…would you mind if I
looked for myself?
HENRY: Well, I don’t mind,
Leroy…but Uncle Sam would…
A dejected Leroy walks away, and the only words of
consolation that the coffee-crazed Buck can offer him are “Maybe tomorrow,
Leroy…”
HENRY: You know—I ain’t seen so
much fuss over the mail since Armand Turner lost that chain letter…
Aw…you’re, like, a real human being, big guy. So a dissolve finds Doris—and I know you’re going to be positively gobsmacked by this—in the kitchen, finishing frosting a cake…and offering her hopped-up-on-sugar kids Billy (Philip Brown) and Toby (Tod Starke) a chance to sample said frosting. “Here…just a lick,” she tells Billy…and then she admonishes him with “finger,” indicating that he’s to take some of the frosting on his finger in case he and his brother have typhoid or something. When Toby asks if he can have a piece now, his mom tells him “That’s for supper, honey”—and this made me laugh out loud because with the frequency of sugar-laced treats baked on this show I can actually believe that’s the only item on the menu. (Well, there’d also be milk.)
Incidentally, although Fran Ryan—who plays housekeeper Aggie Thompson—is seen in the credits of this week’s episode, she does not actually appear in “The Songwriter.” I say this in case you Aggie fans were concerned that
Leroy comes charging into the house, with Lord
Nelson—formerly of the Nash family in Larchmont ,
NY
BILLY: Ain’t you gonna open it?
TOBY: Yeah, Leroy…open it!
There’s a bit of additional business in which Leroy admits
that he’s too nervous to open the letter…but he finally does, and then cries
out “I did it!” This prompts the family
to join in the chorus (“Leroy did it!”)…
LEROY: I sold my song!
LEROY (holding it up): See?
BILLY: “Weeds in the Garden of My
Heart?”
LEROY: Well…yes, sir…
“Get the hell off my property, you dipstick! You’re fired!”
LEROY: Well, not the whole
song…just the words…the company I sold it to put the tune to it…don’t it look
real professional? Yeah… (Pointing to
the music sheet) What’s that one there?
LEROY: An E-flat…how about
that! I got an E-flat in my song!
Leroy asks the family if they want to hear what the company
had to say, so he starts to read the letter…humorously, Buck puts his reading
glasses on (which have been hanging off one ear the whole time) I guess in
order to hear better.
LEROY (reading): “Dear Leroy…” How ‘bout that—startin’ off real friendly-like…”Congratulations on the start of a new and profitable career…our panel of judges considers your lyrics the finest they’ve read since Ernest Tubb…” Ernest Tubb?
And somewhere out in The Great Beyond, The Texas Troubadour
is weeping.
LEROY (still reading): “If you
could compose four or five more songs in the style of ‘Weeds in the Garden of My Heart
LEROY (again with the reading): “We
are sure such an album stands an excellent chance of winning…which would rocket
you to stardom…however, since time is of the essence, don’t procras…procras…”
Leroy has trouble making out the word “procrastinate” (a word with which I am all too familiar) and even Buck doesn’t offer much help. Finally
LEROY (finishing the letter): “Get
those country gems to us in a hurry…sincerely…” (Slightly flustered) Country
gems…hey, Mrs. Martin—do you think you could sing it from that?
So everyone gathers around the piano (even Nelson!) to hear Doris
sing that Leroy B. Simpson standard, “Weeds in the Garden
of My Heart
There are weeds in the garden of my heart
But they’re watered with tears from
my eyes
You planted those weeds in my heart
When you said those words “You I
despise”
I’ll say this for
You choked out the flowers
With hardly no thought
You stomped on my garden
Which you shouldn’t have done
There are weeds in the garden in my
heart
But there’s one thought I got
consoling me
Though I got weeds in the garden of
my heart
I’m still living in the land of the
free
Cut to The Great Beyond, and E.T. is laughing his ass off…joined
by Harlan Howard, Hank Cochran and a few others.
LEROY: Oh, yeah—that patriotic
stuff is good…and you know, it gives a song a happy ending…
BILLY: That’s great, Leroy!
TOBY: Yeah…that’s great, Leroy!
Oh, what do you know, you little turd—you couldn’t even get into the school choir. Leroy asks Doris
what she thinks of the song and she replies: “Well, Leroy—I don’t know what to say” then repeats the phrase,
changing the emphasis to the word “say” in order to spare his feelings.
LEROY: Everybody come on in here
now and sit down…
Leroy reveals that he has another surprise—which prompts a
laugh-out-loud reaction from Buck: “Isn’t this one here enough?” No, Leroy tells the family that when the
royalty checks start a-pourin’ in, he’s going to lavish them with expensive
gifts: a mink coat for Doris (“Where would I wear it?”);
a new hay-baler for Buck (“Where would I wear it?”); a canoe for Billy and
Toby. Doris
admonishes him that he really doesn’t have to do this…but Leroy counters that
they’re the only family he’s got, and he wants to do something nice.
LEROY: Anyway, I’d better get to
work on my songs…it ain’t gonna be easy to measure up to “Weeds in the Garden of My Heart
LEROY: Well…they don’t pay me anything…I pay them fifty dollars for puttin’ my words to music…
Say what?
LEROY: I pay them fifty dollars to
put music to my words…
“It can’t be from what I’m payin’ you…”
This just in…the music industry is populated with unscrupulous dirtbags. And in other news…sugar is sweet! Back with more of The Doris Day Show after this message from her sponsor…
The news that the family’s beloved (if unbelievably stupid) handyman Leroy has been swindled by a fly-by-night music publishing company has given Doris a major sad…so much so that the next scene finds her scarfing down bacon, while Buck pours coffee into his tremendous mug. Buck is all for telling Leroy the truth: that those songs of his are purely awful, but
Leroy comes into the kitchen, wishing all a good morning and
lamenting that he was up all night practicing his songwriting craft—he was
stuck for a word to rhyme with “meander.”
Doris suggests “oleander,” and a pleased Leroy recommends
that she take up songwriting, too—she might have a knack for it. And thus…a fiendishly clever idea takes root
in the Widow Martin’s brain.
The scene then shifts to the living room; it is night, and Leroy rushes in to tell the family he’s finished his last song. He asks Buck if he’d like to hear it, and Buck responds: “Well…as a matter of fact, Leroy, I was…” Before he can complete this with “thinking about walking the parapet,”
Your love is like butter gone
rancid
It’s no good now; it’s started to
turn
I pray that it’s just like the man
said
You can’t put it back in the churn
Can’t put
Can’t put
Can’t put it back in the churn
Oh, durn!
LEROY: Oh, yeah…durn…it rhymes with
churn…
You watch your phraseology, young lady.
BILLY: Hey—that’s great, Mom!
The kids clap their approval, and the audience starts to
think that maybe the dropping of art and music classes from school curriculums
isn’t such a hot idea after all. But Doris
wants the opinion of the real songwriter in the household.
LEROY: Ah…uh…well…it’s… (Clears his
throat) It’s different…
LEROY: This is awful!
LEROY: Did you ever want to tell
somebody something for their own good…and you just couldn’t?
LEROY: When she asked me how I
liked her song I just couldn’t tell her!
I hate to say this, but…when it comes to songwriting…your daughter just
don’t have no talent!
The scene shifts to
LEROY: Well…I’m afraid she just
don’t have it…but how do you tell somebody they don’t know how to write songs?
Leroy is certain the company is going to turn down Doris ’
“rotten song”: “It’s all full of rancid butter and wormy apples.” So when Doris is
turned down and Leroy’s money starts rolling in, he’s going to get her a
“silver fox with a tail in its mouth to go around her neck” along with the fur
coat…”just to make up for it.”
LEROY: That’s it! I mean…you being an amateur and all, you
might have to keep on trying for a while before they’ll take one of your songs…
LEROY: Well…what if they did? Songwriting ain’t everything! You’re a good mother and a good friend…and we
all love you…
It’s true, Dodo. We do all love you. Doris asks Leroy if
he’ll read the company’s response…and in doing so, he learns that they’ve not
only accepted her song—it’s the exact same letter he received, right down to
the Ernest Tubb comparison.
LEROY: It’s the same letter they sent me…
LEROY: And your song was…
Now it’s Leroy’s turn to have a sad. He shuffles out of the barn, depressed…Doris
goes after him, and finds him in the miserable room he calls home, crumpling up
pieces of paper he’s torn off his pad.
Well, let’s cut to the quick on this one.
Coda time!
Doris, her kids, her pop and Leroy are gathered around the piano, singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” in round fashion. The song ends in a tremendous flourish, and even Nelson punctuates it with a bark (which I found cute).
You think I’m kidding about this? Well, after Leroy conveniently finds an
excuse to be anywhere but there, Doris and the kids strike up a chorus of “Your
Love is Like Butter Gone Rancid”…and suddenly Buck has a reason to mosey,
too. Doris then
improvises another chorus of lyrics:
You’re gonna be sorry you’re
leaving
‘Cause we’re having cake and ice
cream
You’re gonna be sorry dear Grandpa
Now that you’re splitting the scene
Cake and
Ice cream
We’re having cake and ice cream
Oh, boy!
And fade out…as once again, Doris
shamelessly bribes the kids. Ye gods,
that was painful. (Cut to Gob: “I’ve
made a huge mistake.”) If you’re wondering why that was painful,
it’s because it sprang from the prolific pen of Joseph Bonaduce (Danny’s pop),
who wrote “Miss Farmerette” for Mayberry R.F.D. (In Joe’s defense, he also wrote “The Panel Show”—proving that even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.) Joe will return later this season with
another horrible contribution in “The Clock.”
8 comments:
>“You Used to Be the Cream in My Coffee—But Now You’re Just Grounds for Divorce.”
That's downright Falstaff Openshaw-esque.
Thoroughly enjoying your dissection of "The Doris Day Show". I have great memories of watching it when it first aired and the cover of my book, "Was That a Name I Dropped?" is me and Miss Day. As the biggest female film star of that era, she certainly deserved better writing for her show but she is always watchable and, like you, I laugh out loud at some of her reactions.
Paul E. Brogan
Concord, NH
This plot might've worked better with Goober or Howard as the prospective songwriter on Mayberry RFD. Here, it's comedy "by the numbers", and how painful it can be at times.
Another authoritative analysis of this underwhelming show! :)
Mr. Leal turned my head with shameless flattery:
>That's downright Falstaff Openshaw-esque.
It does have an OTR connection: Jack Benny was a guest on Bob Hope's show one time and they did a sketch in which the two of them pretended to be disc jockeys. That was the title of one of the records they were playing.
The "She Broke My Heart, So I Broke Her Neck" comes from my longtime WV paisan Jeff Lane.
I have great memories of watching it when it first aired and the cover of my book, "Was That a Name I Dropped?" is me and Miss Day.
So, Paul...I have to know: why did Doris give Fran Ryan the sack?
R.A.M. theorized:
This plot might've worked better with Goober or Howard as the prospective songwriter on Mayberry RFD.
Oh, don't I wish Howard had been in this episode.
this underwhelming show
The perfect description of the Doris Day sitcom.
The first few months of filming were very difficult as Doris had just lost her husband in April, 1968. They started filming in June. During those first months Doris and her son Terry were discovering the mess her husband, Marty, had left her finances in. (Eventually she would sue the attorney and win more than 22 million in 1974). It was a difficult time on the set and Fran was running her mouth to the Press about the strain the show's star was under.
I stumbled upon this site just to get the words to Doris's Rancid Butter song. But you have left me puzzled. Why are you bothering to write page after page after page of details lavishly illustrated with pictures and dialogue. For what? A 25-minute TV show which you are clearly not impressed with.
Anyway, I enjoyed the series (especially this episode). It gave me an insight into the everyday story of countryfolk in the USA. (If you are interested in the everyday story of countryfolk in England, there is BBC Radio-4, weekday evenings at around 7pm.)
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