On the Lighter Side: Sunday nights at 7, and remembering Jack Benny

Editors Note: John Dupont writes this week's installment of "On the Lighter Side" on behalf of Joe Guilbeau.

In the 1930s and ’40s, Americans did not have TV or internet. They had newspapers, movie theaters and something called the “theater of the minds,” commonly known as radio.

They got much of their news, music, sports and other entertainment from that mahogany box. While they couldn’t see who was talking, it made people use their imagination.

Sometimes it made listeners cry or sit in suspense, and many times it made them laugh. Few programs brought laughter quite like the voices listeners heard Sunday nights at 7.

Jack Benny was one of the most popular radio performers of his era. He also starred in some great movies later became a very popular TV star.

But the radio show made him a household name.

Listeners would hear the NBC radio chimes and the voice of announcer Don Wilson to introduce the show, which carried the name of the sponsor, as was the common practice in those days. It would either be the “Jell-O Program” or “The Grape Nuts Program” or “The Lucky Strike Program.”

Then, they’d hear the long list of stars: wife Mary Livingstone, Eddie Anderson (his valet Rochester, who got the best lines on the show), bandleader Phil Harris and Irish tenor Dennis Day.

It would then open into the situation, with stories that often centered around Benny (as a character) being a vain, petty cheapskate. Rochester got the loudest cheers and the most laughs as he outwitted Benny and teased him about his cheapness.

The same applied to Mary Livingstone, who played his girlfriend on the show, even though she was his real-life spouse.

The character of Phil Harris was that of a brash playboy who enjoyed more than a few drinks when he partied with his band members.

Dennis Day was a smart aleck young man whom, like everyone else, got a dig or two on Benny in each show.

It did not stop there. Anytime Benny was shopping or going to a doctor or boarding a flight or train ride, the person serving him would be Frank Nelson.

All Jack had to say was “Oh mister … mister ...”

“Yessssss?” Nelson would reply, in a loud staccato voice.

And then there was Mel Blanc, the same man who did dozens of voices for some of best-known cartoon characters.

Blanc was the voice of the Benny’s parakeet “Polly,” he did the sound effects for Jack’s jalopy, along with voices of many characters on the show.

Benny was not a comedian telling jokes. He was the joke.

His style influenced many comedians who followed him. Watch sitcoms such as “Seinfeld” or “Frasier,” and what you see is a style Benny perfected.

Benny’s style never grew stale.

It’s no wonder Benny’s radio show had a long run and his TV show lasted 15 years. Even after his TV series ended in the mid-1960s, Benny stayed busy until a month before he died in December 1974.

What set apart Benny from other comedians was that he made sure most of the funny lines went to his characters and not himself. Benny may have played a cheapskate, but he was remembered as one of the most generous performers in show business.