Terms Which Have Disappeared

[BlueTrain]

There were some good expressions of mild disgust in the Laurel and Hardy films, "another fine mess" being the most common, I think. Jack Benny could get a lot of mileage out of one word: "Well!"

Sometimes a one-word expression could carry a lot of weight if used in an otherwise "innocent" movie, like the too-short Nancy Drew series. In one, her boyfriend said "Gosh, Nancy. I mean, GOSH!" Just the way he said it was perfect. But that's what good acting is.

I had a tape of the Jack Armstrong serial but I have no memory of any expressions but all the characters were good. I must get a DVD version. That one was made just after the war, I believe (I'm not double-checking anything in this post, so there be inaccuracies), so it's a good time-capsule of things. Curiously, if I'm remembering it correctly, Jack Armstrong has souped up car (anyone say "souped up?") that he uses to run down a hit-and-run driver. After it's all over, a policeman is admiring Jack's car and asks him what he's going to do with it and if I'm not mistaken, he says he's going to take it out to Pomona and try for a record. Anyway, one has this image of a typically dressed man walking down the street in a double-breasted suit and a snap-brim hat. But in one scene a man is walking down the sidewalk bare-headed. But it's California, after all. I'm not sure about his suit, though.

The television show "Green Acres" was obviously set in the countryside and presumably not far from New York. But I don't remember anything about their accents (Zsa Zsa,'s, yes). It might be possible there is a city accent and a rural accent no matter what part of the country you're from. And small towns used to be very city-like, I assure you.

 

[ChiTownScion]

I haven't seen one of the Pa and Ma Kettle movies for a while and I don't remember where they were supposed to be living. In the old B-westerns, the location was usually a little vague and often geographically wrong, given where they were actually filmed. Of course, they were being filmed about as far west as you could go in the first place.

Back in my Civil War reenacting days, "Ma and Pa Kettle" was one name by which we referred, ejusdem generis, to the spectators who'd show up to view the living history and battle scenarios. Other terms (with obvious Era origins) were "Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Snerd from Keokuk, Iowa" and "Mr. and Mrs. Jubilation T. Cornpone from East Abscess, Indiana," and a few more that are unprintable.

Spectators were a necessary distraction/ annoyance in that hobby: on the one hand, their admission fees made the events possible (and some were actually quite knowledgeable about history), but their modern clothing, accoutrements, and language could be an impediment to the 1860's impression we tried to present.

 

[Inkstainedwretch]

In British theater there is a "dialect"called "Mummerset." It's a sort of generic Brit-rural speech that is not exactly native to any region but just sounds sort of vaguely countrified to urban audiences. Hollywood and television use a similar rube-redneck-hick rural accent that's sort of southern-midwestern but not exactly located geographically, but audiences hear it as "country."

 

[BlueTrain]

I agree and going back to what I had already written, I guess that was the point I was making. In real life, to put it one way, it's easy to "countrify" one's accent without becoming particularly regional. At least I think it is. But it's more difficult for a country born and bred person to sound like they're from the city, especially the big city, and not to sound like you're putting on an act instead of either toning down an accent or stressing it for effect. Doing either is perfectly natural and I think is commonly done by most people to suit the circumstances. But there's more to it than that.

Someone who grew up and continued to live "way out" in the country or alternatively, in the city, will have had different life experiences, exposure to unlike things and will react differently to new things. Such things, if you follow me, will only increase the differences in their accents and vocabulary. Different regions of the country can have slightly different vocabularies, although people from other places will usually have no trouble understanding anyone in the country, especially after they ask the other person to speak a little more slowly. It was embarrassing for me to do that when we were traveling in England a few years ago, but I only had to do that if the speaker was actually English and not Scottish or Ukrainian.

 

[Stearmen]

The television show "Green Acres" was obviously set in the countryside and presumably not far from New York. But I don't remember anything about their accents (Zsa Zsa,'s, yes). It might be possible there is a city accent and a rural accent no matter what part of the country you're from. And small towns used to be very city-like, I assure you.

There is a lot of arguments to where Hooterville was? The opening scenes were filmed north of Los Angeles, back when there was still farms there. Of course, the Cannonball is actually Sierra #5 which is in California. As for the accents, they are all over the place! Arnolds is the only one I can clearly identify, but, I'm not telling!

 

[Inkstainedwretch]

Speaking of rural California and obsolete terms, in the small towns of the California farming zones the word used to express what the rest of the country calls a "redneck" is still "okie."

 

[Zombie_61]

...To date, however, I've never heard anyone say "swell" in normal conversation...

A good friend and I will use "swell" in a jocular manner, i.e. something like, "Gee, that's swell!" said as precociously and obnoxiously as possible, but it's almost always followed by an inaccurate recitation of the scene from the I Love Lucy episode "Lucy Hires an English Tutor" in which the great Hans Conried plays Percy Livermore, the aforementioned English tutor:

Percy Livermore: "We must rid our speech of slang. Now, besides 'okay' I want you all to promise me that there are two words that you will never use. One of these is 'swell' and the other one's 'lousy'."
Lucy: "Okay, what are they?"
Percy Livermore: "One of them is 'swell', and the other one is 'lousy'."
Fred: "Well, give us the lousy one first."
Percy Livermore: "I don't believe you quite understand."
Ethel: "Uh, don't bother to explain Mr. Livermore, just tell us what the words are and we won't use 'em."
Lucy: "No."
Percy Livermore: "But, don't you see, the words...well, the other...may I have a glass of water, please?"
Lucy: "Okay. I, I mean, yes. Would you help me, Ethel, and get a pitcher and some glasses? Ha ha, I would say 'okay'. That's a swell way to get off to a lousy start."

 

[KILO NOVEMBER]

The television show "Green Acres" was obviously set in the countryside and presumably not far from New York. But I don't remember anything about their accents (Zsa Zsa,'s, yes). It might be possible there is a city accent and a rural accent no matter what part of the country you're from. And small towns used to be very city-like, I assure you.

Here's a sign of mis-spent youth, I know that it was Eva, not Zsa Zsa.

 

[BlueTrain]

You are no doubt correct. I watched very little television when it was on, since I was either out of the country while I was in the army or away at college. I'm not even sure I've ever seen a complete episode, which is clearly why I know nothing about the Gabor sisters. The location of Green Acres and the town had a vagueness similar to the location of Springfield, where the Simpsons live. And as it happens, I actually live in Springfield, Virginia, home of, uh, well, actually, I don't know anyone else who lives here, or rather, there, since I'm not there now but here instead, if you follow me. I actually live in West Springfield, an important distinction if you live here, I mean there. There is a North Springfield but no South Springfield or East Springfield and that is somewhat troubling at times. I think the interstate highways had something to do with it.

 

[MisterCairo]

Say goodnight Gracie...

I've used that to blank stares.

Heck, I've used "This one goes to eleven" and "Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?" to blank stares. It's amazing how recent something "vintage" can be...

 

[LizzieMaine]

The location of Hooterville was deliberately left vague -- one could even argue that it existed outside of space and time, a sort of bizarre melange of the early 1930s and the mid 1960s in which the normal rules of the physical universe didn't always apply. How else does one explain the appearance of "words" (the program's production credits) in thin air which were visible to all the townspeople except Oliver Douglas, or the manifestation of fife music audible to everyone but Mr. Douglas whenever he delivered a patriotic speech?

Douglas himself was likely a resident of "our" universe who had been lured thru a dimensional gap into this alternate world, which explains his constant perplexity at aspects of the "Hooterville" universe which seemed perfectly normal to everyone else. Lisa Douglas, obviously, was a native resident of this alternate reality who had been sent to bring Oliver across the void between universes for some sinister, unrevealed purpose. Pity him.

It may well be that the Shady Rest Hotel served as the weak point in the fabric between realities, since it seemed to share elements of the "real" and the "Hooterville" world. This may also explain Uncle Joe Carson's constant state of physical debilitation, as he found his energy sapped by the strain of acting as the unwilling doorkeeper between realities. Only Sam Drucker understood the true nature of "Hooterville," and may, in fact, as Milburn Drysdale suspected, have been the sinister puppetmaster who manipulated realities to suit his purpose.

 

[Inkstainedwretch]

How about this sign-off that everyone was using in the 60s?
"Good night, Chet." "Good night, David."

 

[EngProf]

The location of Hooterville was deliberately left vague -- one could even argue that it existed outside of space and time, a sort of bizarre melange of the early 1930s and the mid 1960s in which the normal rules of the physical universe didn't always apply. How else does one explain the appearance of "words" (the program's production credits) in thin air which were visible to all the townspeople except Oliver Douglas, or the manifestation of fife music audible to everyone but Mr. Douglas whenever he delivered a patriotic speech?

Douglas himself was likely a resident of "our" universe who had been lured thru a dimensional gap into this alternate world, which explains his constant perplexity at aspects of the "Hooterville" universe which seemed perfectly normal to everyone else. Lisa Douglas, obviously, was a native resident of this alternate reality who had been sent to bring Oliver across the void between universes for some sinister, unrevealed purpose. Pity him.

It may well be that the Shady Rest Hotel served as the weak point in the fabric between realities, since it seemed to share elements of the "real" and the "Hooterville" world. This may also explain Uncle Joe Carson's constant state of physical debilitation, as he found his energy sapped by the strain of acting as the unwilling doorkeeper between realities. Only Sam Drucker understood the true nature of "Hooterville," and may, in fact, as Milburn Drysdale suspected, have been the sinister puppetmaster who manipulated realities to suit his purpose.

LizzieM has this "Green Acres" situation well figured out. My main enjoyment of the show - which was a lot - was the total surrealism of the humor and situations.
If you haven't seen it, think "Twilight Zone" meets "I Love Lucy".
Two of my favorite examples:
1. Oliver comes in to the kitchen and asks Lisa, "What's for dinner?" She say's she's making "hot-water soup" - "you put water in a pot and then put it on the stove..." Oliver (exasperated) tells her that there's no such thing as hot-water soup. Just as he says that, Eb the farmhand walks into the kitchen and opens the pot lid and enthusiastically says. "Oh boy, hot-water soup!"
2. Doubling up on the surrealism, Oliver and Lisa are shown in a dream-sequence in an Old-West saloon. She's dressed as a saloon-girl and he's dressed like a gambler. They are disagreeing/bickering as usual. Lisa - to emphasize her point - tells Oliver to "Put your money where your mouse is." (Hungarian accent). She points down and there is a little white mouse on the table sitting next to Oliver's poker chips. Oliver looks down - then back at her - and says, "That's not my mouse." and flips it with his finger and the mouse flies across the saloon.

I've always wondered how such a bizarre show made it through the network executives that had to approve it. Perhaps they were so dense that they didn't catch the strangeness of it.

(Trivia: John Wayne never fought in a war. Oliver Wendell Douglas/Eddie Albert won a medal for heroism for saving wounded Marines at the invasion of Tarawa.)

As for the Shady Rest, it may well have been some sort of wormhole between universes. In one episode Dennis Hopper ("Easy Rider") and Smiley Burnette ("Frog Millhouse") are both in the hotel's parlor at the same time talking to each other.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Paul Henning, executive producer of "Green Acres," Jay Sommers, the program's creator, and Dick Chevillait, its head writer, were all veterans of radio, where they were known for their absurdist approach to comedy. Henning had been a longtime writer for Burns and Allen in the 1930s and 1940s, where he put a great many words into Gracie Allen's mouth over the years, Sommers had written for Red Skelton, Milton Berle, and Lum and Abner, and Dick Chevillait co-wrote "The Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show," which needs no introduction to fans of extreme, absurdist humor.

"Green Acres" is very much a program in the vein of 1940s humor, where gags and characterizations didn't necessarily have to make sense. It was actually the loose descendant of a radio series called "Granby's Green Acres," which Sommers had created for CBS in the late forties, although it didn't feature the surrealism that the TV series would have. That, to a great extent, came from Dick Chevillait.

Henning could do pretty much anything he wanted to do at CBS-TV in the mid-1960s, after setting the network on fire with "The Beveriy Hillbillies" in 1962 -- it was the runaway hit of the season, and the network begged him for a followup, which became "Petticoat Junction," and then another followup, whihc was, of course, "Green Acres." Henning's power at the network continued until Fred Silverman took over as director of programming in the early '70s, saw that the network was skewing heavily toward the middle-aged -- a demographic with a native appreciation for absurd 1940s humor, but a demographic not in high favor with the Boys From Marketing. So all those shows went, and Henning was done. He lived quite well, however, off syndication rights, for the rest of his days.

 

[EngProf]

Paul Henning, executive producer of "Green Acres," Jay Sommers, the program's creator, and Dick Chevillait, its head writer, were all veterans of radio, where they were known for their absurdist approach to comedy. Henning had been a longtime writer for Burns and Allen in the 1930s and 1940s, where he put a great many words into Gracie Allen's mouth over the years, Sommers had written for Red Skelton, Milton Berle, and Lum and Abner, and Dick Chevillait co-wrote "The Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show," which needs no introduction to fans of extreme, absurdist humor.

"Green Acres" is very much a program in the vein of 1940s humor, where gags and characterizations didn't necessarily have to make sense. It was actually the loose descendant of a radio series called "Granby's Green Acres," which Sommers had created for CBS in the late forties, although it didn't feature the surrealism that the TV series would have. That, to a great extent, came from Dick Chevillait.

Henning could do pretty much anything he wanted to do at CBS-TV in the mid-1960s, after setting the network on fire with "The Beveriy Hillbillies" in 1962 -- it was the runaway hit of the season, and the network begged him for a followup, which became "Petticoat Junction," and then another followup, whihc was, of course, "Green Acres." Henning's power at the network continued until Fred Silverman took over as director of programming in the early '70s, saw that the network was skewing heavily toward the middle-aged -- a demographic with a native appreciation for absurd 1940s humor, but a demographic not in high favor with the Boys From Marketing. So all those shows went, and Henning was done. He lived quite well, however, off syndication rights, for the rest of his days.

Fred Silverman and the Boys from Marketing missed that one for sure in terms of demographics. Somehow they didn't get the idea that the Baby-Boomers (not-middle-aged!) grew up on "Mad Magazine" and then went on to "National Lampoon", so we were perfect customers for the surrealistic humor in "Beverly Hillbillies", "Petticoat Junction", and "Green Acres".

We were not aware of the 1940's comedy style, but we knew what we liked. (Some of us provided our own "surrealism", by other means, unrelated to what was being shown on TV.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

The guys who created "Mad" grew up on "Ballyhoo" magazine and Fred Allen and Stoopnagle and Budd on the radio in the 1930s, and Henry Morgan in the 1940s, so there's a clear line of descent there. Every generation has had had its smartasses.

Silverman, who was 33 years old when he took over at CBS-TV, was all about "relevance," which was the Madison Avenue buzzword of the moment. He and his consultants believed that hip, urban people in the 25-44 demographic wanted hip, relevant programming -- in addition to canning Henning's shows, he also dumped Jackie Gleason, Red Skelton, and Ed Sullivan, pretty much any program created by, written by, or featuring performers born before 1920.

 

[EngProf]

The guys who created "Mad" grew up on "Ballyhoo" magazine and Fred Allen and Stoopnagle and Budd on the radio in the 1930s, and Henry Morgan in the 1940s, so there's a clear line of descent there. Every generation has had had its smartasses.

Silverman, who was 33 years old when he took over at CBS-TV, was all about "relevance," which was the Madison Avenue buzzword of the moment. He and his consultants believed that hip, urban people in the 25-44 demographic wanted hip, relevant programming -- in addition to canning Henning's shows, he also dumped Jackie Gleason, Red Skelton, and Ed Sullivan, pretty much any program created by, written by, or featuring performers born before 1920.

"He and his *consultants* believed...''
Now there's the problem: As Dogbert (from "Dilbert") says, "I like to con people and and I like to insult people - I'm going to become a "consultant".

 

[Stearmen]

"He and his *consultants* believed...''
Now there's the problem: As Dogbert (from "Dilbert") says, "I like to con people and and I like to insult people - I'm going to become a "consultant".

Like being employed by a "think tank!"

 

[Stearmen]

The location of Hooterville was deliberately left vague -- one could even argue that it existed outside of space and time, a sort of bizarre melange of the early 1930s and the mid 1960s in which the normal rules of the physical universe didn't always apply. How else does one explain the appearance of "words" (the program's production credits) in thin air which were visible to all the townspeople except Oliver Douglas, or the manifestation of fife music audible to everyone but Mr. Douglas whenever he delivered a patriotic speech?

Douglas himself was likely a resident of "our" universe who had been lured thru a dimensional gap into this alternate world, which explains his constant perplexity at aspects of the "Hooterville" universe which seemed perfectly normal to everyone else. Lisa Douglas, obviously, was a native resident of this alternate reality who had been sent to bring Oliver across the void between universes for some sinister, unrevealed purpose. Pity him.

It may well be that the Shady Rest Hotel served as the weak point in the fabric between realities, since it seemed to share elements of the "real" and the "Hooterville" world. This may also explain Uncle Joe Carson's constant state of physical debilitation, as he found his energy sapped by the strain of acting as the unwilling doorkeeper between realities. Only Sam Drucker understood the true nature of "Hooterville," and may, in fact, as Milburn Drysdale suspected, have been the sinister puppetmaster who manipulated realities to suit his purpose.

Much like Gilligan's Island, where the island was obviously in an alternate dimension. Where the Howell's and ginger had three years of clothes and the rest of the crew only had what was on their backs. Or, the professor could make a radio out of coconut's, but could not fix the boat, after all, you can't just sail out of different dimension!

 

[Zombie_61]

...Heck, I've used "This one goes to eleven" and "Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?" to blank stares. It's amazing how recent something "vintage" can be...

I hate to be the one to burst your bubble, but those movies are now 32 and nearly 30 years old, respectively. They might not be "vintage", but I think most people these days wouldn't consider them as "recent" either.

But your point is well taken. When I was growing up, everyone knew who the Three Stooges and the Marx Brothers were even if they had never seen their movies. But I've cracked wise using lines from both sources to co-workers who were either my approximate age or not much younger, and they had no idea who I was talking about even after I had explained it to them.