Buster and Ernie at the Ol' Ball Yard

Winter has turned to spring in this part of the world, and that means the advent of yet another baseball season. To get you in the spirit, blogging buddy Ernie and I are offering an unusual collection of baseball songs. (In the photo above, Ernie seems skeptical of my ballplaying prowess.)

Ernie was the mastermind behind most of the playlist, and he has selected some of the most obscure selections you can imagine - from comic monologues to tribute songs, from country to classics, stretching from as long ago as 1903 to 1957. There are tunes celebrating the stars of old along with the obscurities - adding up to 22 selections in all.

As usual, we'll cover these in chronological order.

Cal Stewart - Uncle Josh Playing Base Ball

Cal Stewart as Uncle Josh

The earliest piece comes from Cal Stewart, who visits the ball park in "Uncle Josh Playing Base Ball" from 1903. Actually Josh first goes to a football game and then on to the baseball field, where he joins the action with predictable consequences. Josh was a yuk-yuk-yuk hayseed character, and his routine is very much in the vein of his previous appearances here, when he encountered the big city department store and a cafeteria, except this one involves an angry goat.

Concert Band - Cubs on Parade

Tinker, Evers, Chance, and all the Cubbies

The Chicago Cubs were the hottest thing in the major leagues from 1906-8, when they won two out of three World Series. They then hit a fallow period for the next 108 years. In 1908, a generically named Concert Band came out with a lively march called "Cubs on Parade," which we presume was in honor of the baseball team rather than denoting something zoological.

Weber and Fields - Base Ball

Joe Weber and Lew Fields were huge stars in vaudeville, but only worked together sporadically by the time Columbia recorded their "Base Ball" routine in 1916. Their "Mike and Meyer" characters spoke in German dialect, here with one explaining the game to the other. This routine features our first instance of "kill the umpire" and ends with a joke at the expense of the long-gone and not very successful St. Louis Browns.

"Babe" Himself - "Babe" Ruth's Home Run Story

The Babe

In 1920 the biggest star in baseball was the Great Bambino, Babe Ruth, who had just moved over to the Yankees from the Red Sox and was busy setting home run records in both 1919 and 1920. This recorded monologue - "'Babe' Ruth's Home Run Story" - is a remarkably contrived and uninformative three minutes with the slugger detailing his triumphs in a laconic manner. Still, it's fascinating to hear his voice in his prime.

Les Brown and His Orchestra - Joltin' Joe DiMaggio

Let's jump ahead to 1941, where we're in a different world with Les Brown's swing band hymning the praises of a later Yankee - "Joltin' Joe DiMaggio." Singer Betty Bonney tells the story of the Clipper's 56-game hitting streak, which is still the record. Betty died recently, and her New York Times obituary gives the background of the song. 

From this time forward, most records found it obligatory to bawl "strike one" etc., and "kill the umpire," along with the crack of hickory on horsehide (or is it horsehide on hickory?).

Ferko String Band - Babe (Dedicated to Babe Ruth)

Joe Ferko formed the Ferko String Band more than 100 years ago to perform in Philadelphia's Mummers Parade on New Year's Day. In the late 1940s, the Ferkos made a series of records for the local Palda label, including our next selection, which is my own favorite in this group. It is a loose and lusty reading of "Babe (Dedicated to Babe Ruth)" by Charles Tobias and Peter DeRose. I believe this was recorded in recognition of Ruth's 1948 death from cancer. It is a joyous sing-along celebration of his life, accompanied by a ensemble that sounds like it is part marching band and part stage band - which is what the Ferkos were.

Johnny Mercer - The First Baseball Game

Johnny Mercer

A preacher delivering a sermon using baseball as a simile sounds like something that Johnny Mercer the songwriter would come up with, but it actually is a 1948 song by Don Raye and Gene de Paul called "The First Baseball Game" that Johnny the singer recorded for Capitol. Among the lyrics: "Ol’ Saint Pete was checkin’ errors / Also had charge of the gate / Salome sacrific’d Big John the Baptist who wound up ahead on the plate." Not sure what the lesson was, but the lyrics are terrific.

Count Basie and His Orchestra - Did You See Jackie Robinson Hit That Ball?

Jackie Robinson

One of the great events in baseball history was in 1947 when Jackie Robinson broke the Major League's color line by joining the Brooklyn Dodgers. There was more than one song written to mark the occasion, the best-known being Buddy Johnson's "Did You See Jackie Robinson Hit That Ball?", here in Count Basie's 1949 recording. Ernie also uncovered a "Baseball Boogie" recorded in Robinson's honor by Brownie McGhee, but that 78 was quite noisy, so we opted for the better-known song.

Gene Kelly and Betty Garrett - Take Me Out to the Ball Game

There have been any number of films with a baseball theme; one notable example from the musical realm is Take Me Out to the Ball Game, which, with a title like that, just had to utilize Albert von Tilzer and Jack Norworth's 1908 classic "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." In the 1949 film, the song is allotted to Gene Kelly and Betty Garrett. Neither had a great voice, but they both radiated personality, so this is a fine record of perhaps the most famous baseball song of them all.

Michel Rosenberg - Getzel at a Baseball Game

Michel Rosenberg

Baseball has appealed to all facets of society and is an example of sport bringing us together. In the late 1940s, Banner was a well-known Yiddish and Hebrew label whose best known artists were perhaps Molly Picon, Myron Cohen and the Barry (Bagelman) Sisters. On this side, Borscht Belt comedian Michel Rosenberg does his "Getzel at a Baseball Game" routine. It's in Yiddish, but he does throw in the occasional phrase in English, e.g., "Gimme blintzes!" and "It's gonna be some game!"

Fat Man Humphries - Doby at the Bat

The first player to break the color line in the American League, Cleveland's Larry Doby, also was honored in more than one song. An earlier post includes Freddie Mitchell's "Doby's Boogie." And today's collection features Fat Man Humphries' "Doby at the Bat," a rough-and-ready, small-label R&B toast to a great player. It dates from 1950.

Glenn Young Orchestra - Harry Caray Polka

Harry Caray in St. Louis

Radio announcers were (and still are to an extent) the portals to baseball for avid fans who could not attend in person. They themselves became popular personalities. One of the most famous - and longest lasting - of this breed was Harry Caray, whose most notable assignments were for the St. Louis Cardinals, the Chicago White Sox and the Chicago Cubs. Harry was quite a promoter, so my guess is that the idea for this rollicking "Harry Caray Polka" from 1950 originated with the man himself. It features his catchphrases "It might be ... it could be ... it IS a home run!" and "Holy cow!"

Johnny Vadnal - The Baseball Polka

Johnny Vadnal

Let's move on to another polka from the same year, this one from Johnny Vadnal, one of the leading lights of the very active Slovenian polka scene in Cleveland, whose best-known exponent was Frankie Yankovic. These ensembles tended to have a smooth sounding female trio offsetting the pronounced polka beat and decidedly choppy male vocals. Vadnal is choppier than most, at least in this "Baseball Polka," also from 1950.

Sugar Chile Robinson - The Bases Were Loaded

Baseball songs and stories have often adopted the pitcher-batter duel as a drama in miniature, starting with "Casey at the Bat." Here, juvenile boogie woogie pianist/singer Sugar Chile Robinson has it tougher than most, being called on a strikes by a pitch that beaned him - and that with the bases full. This drama can be found in a 1950 Rudy Toombs creation called "The Bases Were Loaded," which Robinson recorded for Capitol.

Helen Traubel - Take Me Out to the Ball Game

"Yo-ho-te home run!"

Wagnerian soprano Helen Traubel was a wonderfully good sport who liked to sing popular songs, including this splendid 1950 record of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," with Arthur Fiedler and orchestra. The performance is notable for including the seldom-heard - and very good - verse by composer Albert von Tilzer and lyricist Jack Norworth. The latter actually wrote two verses for the song - one in 1908 and a replacement in 1927. Traubel sings the latter. Here is an explanation for the alternative versions.

LeRoy Holmes and His Orchestra - Little League

Baseball for the young ones was only loosely organized when I was a kid - largely via the Little League and then high school teams. Now my 10-year-old grandson is on an organized team that travels all over. A harbinger of this professionalization of a kiddie pastime was this recording of "Little League," the Official March of Little League Baseball, as recorded by LeRoy Holmes back in 1951. It may have had something to do with the Little League World Series, which had begun in 1947. 

Jane Morgan - Baseball, Baseball

Jane Morgan and the All-Stars

What if you are not all that interested in baseball and the object of your affection is more obsessed by the box score than by scoring points with you? Such was the dilemma faced by pop singer Jane Morgan in her entertaining 1954 record "Baseball, Baseball." She eventually gets her revenge but has to go to extreme measures to do so. Old reliable George Barnes provides the backing.

Phil Foster - A Brooklyn Dodgers Fan

In the mid-1950s, longtime comic and actor Phil Foster styled himself as "Brooklyn's Ambassador to the U.S.A." He even did a series of shorts called "Brooklyn Goes to ..." with the destinations being such glamorous locales as Paris and Cleveland. In his amusing 1954 record "A Brooklyn Baseball Fan" he gives some insight into Dodger fandom. Just a few years later (see sheet music above) he was praying to keep Dem Bums in Dat Ebbets Field. It didn't work - they were off to LA in 1957.

Tom Anderson - Love Goes on Like a Ball Game

Billboard review, February 20, 1954

We've already heard a preacher using baseball as a simile; now here's country singer Tom Anderson claiming that his "Love Goes on Like a Ball Game." Anderson only made a few records, but he was a good singer, and his lament here shows that off well. I believe that he and the Deep Valley Boys were from Virginia.

Willie Mays and the Treniers - Say Hey

Willie Mays

A baseball great who was both the subject and the purveyor of a song was centerfielder Willie Mays of the New York (soon to be San Francisco) Giants. Like Joe DiMaggio above, Mays appears at the beginning of the tune, then gives way to the kinetic Treniers. The song is named for Willie's catchphrase "Say Hey." Mays and the arranger of this record, Quincy Jones, both died within the past year. Twins Cliff and Claude Trenier passed away some time ago.

The Voices of Walter Schumann - Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, Mo.

From a staging of Damn Yankees

In Douglas Wallop's 1954 novel The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant, middle-aged Joe Boyd makes a pact with the Devil to be transformed into young baseball phenom Joe Hardy so that he can save the Washington Senators' season. Wallop's story became a Broadway musical and the subsequent film Damn Yankees. In the staging the Senators welcome the new hero in the number "Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, Mo." here in a spirited version from the Voices of Walter Schumann.

The Voice of Mickey Mantle and Teresa Brewer - I Love Mickey

Teresa Brewer and Mickey Mantle

Teresa Brewer's singing was a strange combination of Kay Starr and Betty Boop. I don't care for her vocalizing, but here she extols my childhood hero, slugger Mickey Mantle of the Yankees, so we just had to include the record. For some reason, Coral billed the Mick as "The Voice of Mickey Mantle," so as to assure us we weren't getting his ear or elbow on the record. The conceit here is that Brewer squeaks "I Love Mickey" and The Voice of Mickey responds, "Mickey who?" It goes on like that for a couple minutes. I'll stick with the Treniers.

That's all for today. But Ernie and I enjoyed doing this so much that, to paraphrase Ernie Banks, "Let's post two!"

Until then, as they say at your local Field of Misbegotten Dreams, "Play ball!"

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The Obsolete Collection (Food Division)

I hope you will indulge me as I venture into one more Obsolete Collection - this time the Food Division. You can find the first Obsolete Collection here; and the Retail Division here.

For the Food Division, I've chosen both the foods themselves and the means of delivery. Let me illustrate by moving on to the first category.

The Cafeteria

Oh, I'm sure that cafeterias still exist; there's possibly one in your local junior high school. But their popularity has declined.

For those not versed in cafeteria culture, let me explain that in each such establishment, you pick up a heavy plastic tray and push it along a set of rails that unites all the food stations and ends with the cashier. You help yourself to a prepared delight such as pudding, and at certain points you ask the attendant for an entree - say, mashed potatoes and meat loaf.

These places did have a sort of plebeian atmosphere, so they have fallen from favor with many people. For example, the art museum near where I live once had an excellent cafeteria, which they have now changed into a fancy restaurant and a lunch spot where you have to move among disconnected stations to find what you want. It doesn't work well, but then again - it's not a cafeteria! (Well, yeah, it is - only atomized.)

To memorialize this once-proud institution, we hear from Cal Stewart and his hayseed character Uncle Josh, via "Uncle Josh in a Cafeteria." Previously Josh visited a big city department store; this time he takes the train from his New England home to New York to visit a cafeteria - a questionable enterprise to be sure. The record is from 1919.

The Hot Dog Stand

In this section, I intend to honor specifically the hot dog stand, not the hot dog carts that clutter up urban sidewalks. (For all I know there are hot dog carts on the moon.) These stands were small buildings where you could get a dog, perhaps a burger, and something to drink. I can't remember the last time I saw such a place, although ice cream stands still abound.

Hot dog stands and the wiener itself have been celebrated in song for some time. Back in 1939, there was a popular number called "At a Little Hot Dog Stand," where of course two hearts met to enjoy an encasement of processed meats and fillers. The song was recorded by several artists, but today we have Dick Todd, the "Canadian Bing" complete with Crosby's mid-period mannerisms, in a charming rendition of the Sam Coslow-Larry Spier tune. Todd finishes by inviting the listener to his wedding celebration - at the hot dog stand. Big spender!

There are also songs honoring the frankfurter itself, so I've included a few of them. First we have Chris Powell and the Five Blue Flames in a 1949 record of "Hot Dog," in which they declare their affinity for this sausage, which to their taste has to be accompanied by a cola. A good record, but I wish they would have revoked that man's tenor saxophone.

Finally, a terrific 1935 disc from Texas' Roy Newman and His Boys called the "Hot Dog Stomp." It's advertised on the label as "Hot Dance" music, and so it is. The group is a string band with guitar, clarinet, fiddles and all the trimmings.

The Diner

A giant "EAT" sign is the universal insignia of fine dining

Diners are still around, but few are the type that I am describing here. Like Chicago's Burlington Diner above, these were marooned old streetcars or Pullmans that were converted for the food trade. The interior presented a lineup of stools at a long counter. On the other side of the counter were the attendants and food apparatus.

Such diners often appeared in movies. The one that comes to mind is the Owl Diner in the Goldwyn Follies of 1938, with short-order cook Kenny Baker serenading Andrea Leeds via the Gershwins' "Love Walked In." You can see the clip here.

We have two songs today that are set in a diner. First is "Dinky's Little Diner" from 1946, with ex-Harry James vocalist Connie Haines. She was an expressive singer, but her diction isn't so good, so you may have a hard time following her. I did learn that Dinky fashioned his diner out of an old caboose.

You'll have less trouble following Harriet Clark as she tells her tale of finding love "At a Dixie Roadside Diner," which songwriters Edgar Leslie and Joe Burke located in Carolina because it rhymes with "diner," sort of. Harriet was the vocalist with the Charlie Barnet band. This comes from 1940.

The Automat

These days - and even back then - most people who are familiar with the Automat were exposed to it not in person but as a movie setting - such as Doris Day and Audrey Meadows carrying on a conversation through the Automat's windows in 1962's That Touch of Mink.

Let me explain. In the Automat, rather than having the food handed to you cafeteria-style, you would be confronted by what seemed like hundreds of small windows, each offering a delicacy (or some such). You plugged coins into a slot so as to unlock the window of your choice. An attendant would then refill the station.

It's the sort of thing that appealed to me in my youth, so I did eat at one. I don't remember the food but I do remember reading a book I had just purchased from Scribner's, a gorgeous store on Fifth Avenue. So the Automat had to be around there somewhere.

Anyway, in New York the Automat was also referred to as "Horn & Hardart," its proprietor (see photo at top of section). The format was invented in Germany, I believe.

In 1965, musical satirist Peter Schickele decided to immortalize the chain with his "Concerto for Horn and Hardart," which married the solo horn with his own semi-musical invention, the "Hardart." This instrument was essentially a baroque Automat, where you plugged in your nickel and received a toy instrument that then would become part of the musical proceedings.

Schickele (in his persona of P.D.Q. Bach) started out by performing send-ups of 18th century music. The audience for this live performance sure seemed to enjoy it - you may as well. I've included an edited version of Schickele's introduction followed by the opening Allegro movement. This is from his first LP, from 1965.

Thanks to my friend Ernie for suggesting the Automat as a subject!

The Bakery

Where I live, the shops that call themselves "bakeries" sell fancy cupcakes, fancy bundt cakes or fancy macarons. They ain't nothing like the old Indianapolis shop you see above. For that, you go to a supermarket, but it isn't the same. Instead of the uniformed attendants you see above, you get a adolescent in a cat t-shirt and ripped jeans.

There aren't a whole lot of songs about bakeries, but the young Jo Stafford did record "Bakery Blues" with her "V-Disc Play Boys" back in 1945. The bakery is an elaborate metaphor concocted by writer George Simon, and Jo presents the tale smoothly. She did have a tendency to croon, though, which is not exactly idiomatic to the blues, or to the style of  her "Play Boys," some of the finest traditional jazz musicians then active.

The Ice Cream Man

"Look like you're enjoying it. The photographer's paying."

He used to crawl down the street in a white truck, tinkling a bell or playing a jingle. He had to go slow to get the kiddies a chance to cadge money from mom or pop. He was selling ice cream along with popsicles and a few other delicacies.

The ice cream man was a beloved character with the young ones, if not mom or dad. After all, children are price-insensitive, so he almost could charge whatever he wanted.

This stealthy purveyor of treats has been the focus of a few songs. Today's selection is the highly enjoyable "Ivan, the Ice Cream Man" from the Kidoodlers, dating from 1939. Yes, this is a kids' record, but the Kidoodlers were a sophisticated novelty group that sang and played toy instruments, somewhat in the mode of the Foursome with their ocarinas. The whole record is great fun.

Ice cream is and was primarily sold as a packaged good, and in the days before snob brands, one of the major players was Sealtest, first as a franchiser and later as an operator of a chain of dairies. One of Sealtest's mainstays was ice cream, until that business was acquired by Good Humor-Breyers, which discontinued the Sealtest ice cream business five years ago.

But back at mid-century, Sealtest was busily producing promo records, including the "Sealtest Ice Cream Polka," with jingle specialists the Lande Trio, Julie Conway and "Johnny Cole's Music." It sounds like lots of other polkas, but you could make that statement about lots of other polkas.

Finally, the original version of "I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream," from 1927. This odd tune takes you to the land of the Eskimos, as they were then known, and introduces you to a football team whose fight song is "I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream." Paul Johnson is your guide to this strange land. Warning: ethnic stereotypes ahead!

Leg of Mutton

"Guess what we're having for dinner!" "That better be pot roast!"

And now we move on to some foods that have lost at least some of their market. (Actually, these are all foods that I roundly dislike, so I may be trying to hasten some of them off the market altogether.)

Mutton leg is definitely hard to find. Anyone who has had mutton can explain why - it tastes gamy. Mutton comes from older sheep; the more tender veal from the younger ones. At one time mutton was more widely available, when wool production was higher in the US, and thus there were more sheep.

As you might imagine, there are few songs that mention this meat, but I did find one called "Mutton Leg" from tenor saxophonist Illinois Jacquet and band, from 1947. The riff tune is by Count Basie and trumpeter Harry Edison, but the name is in honor of trombonist Ted Donnelly, whose nickname it was. Jacquet plays the piece as fast as possible without running out of the grooves. I enjoyed the solos by baritone saxophonist Leo Parker and the young J.J. Johnson on trombone.

Liver

"Woof - liver!"

In my view, liver is only suited for dogs. Trouble was that my mom would cook it up - for the dog AND her.

Liver is apparently a great favorite with the canines (and some people), although my mother's pooch actually preferred boiled kidneys. I learned early to stay out of the kitchen when the fire was under the kidney pot. A more disgusting smell is hard to imagine.

There actually was a song about liver (if not boiled kidneys), and predictably it involved a dog. "Jump, Fritz, I Feed You Liver" was recorded in 1924 by Billy Jones and Ernest Hare under their own names for Columbia and OKeh, and as the Happiness Boys for Victor. I've chosen a competing version from the English label ACO by the Webster Brothers, who have particularly ripe falsches Deutsch accents. Warning! Ethnic stereotypes ahead (and liver)!

 

Bologna

Swift had it all going on in 1956 - sausage, hot dogs, bacon and bologna

When I was young, there were few things I detested more than bologna (invariably pronounced "baloney" around here), unless it were its processed meat cousins Dutch loaf and chopped ham. My sense is that bologna's popularity is on the wane, although that may be wishful thinking.

Bologna was popular enough in 1930 to inspire "The Bologna Song," which is in the nature of an elaborate ethnic joke with the Flanagan Brothers getting the best of their companion - a "Hebrew," as they identify him. Warning - ethnic stereotypes ahead!

Buttermilk

Not even a famous cow could get me to try buttermilk

I'm sure there are people who like buttermilk, but by gosh, I'm not one of them. I don't think it's as popular as once upon a time, and may be even less so after I explain to you that it is fermented milk. The thought of it makes me sweat like Elmer the cow above.

Surprisingly, I found two songs with "buttermilk" in their titles. Let's start off with the better-known tune, "Ole Buttermilk Sky," written by Hoagy Carmichael and Jack Brooks for Hoagy to sing in the 1947 film Canyon Passage. There were several popular versions of this song, but I've selected the one by its composer. The piece was nominated for an Academy Award, but lost out to Judy Garland and "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe." Judy on the rails was tough to beat.

I never figured out what "buttermilk sky" refers to, so I asked the great god AI for enlightenment. "The small, puffy white clouds that make up a buttermilk sky are often said to resemble a pattern of clabbered milk." OK, so what is clabbered milk? "Clabbered milk is a type of cultured milk product that's made by letting unpasteurized milk thicken and sour through fermentation." You can have it.

The second song is something of a bonus - a lively tune called "Buttermilk Polka" by Chet Ososki and his Blue Diamond Orchestra. A pleasant diversion probably from somewhere in the 1950s.

Pigeon

I was looking at a fancy restaurant menu from the 1850s, and was surprised to find pigeon on the bill of fare. Perhaps I shouldn't have been. Back then, passenger pigeons were so numerous that in some places the flocks blotted out the sun. They were so easy to kill that all a hunter had to do is shoot at the flock and be sure of hitting something. The passenger pigeon was extinct by 1914.

As you might expect, few if any songs survive extolling the pigeon, so I have resorted to using a song called "Bayou Pigeon," which is not a song about a bird in the swampland, rather about a small, unincorporated place on the bayou in Louisiana. It comes from Lou Millet, a Baton Rouge musician who ran Lefty Frizzell's band for several years. Lefty probably got Lou a Columbia contract, thus this very accomplished record.

These selections all come from Internet Archive, as fermented by me. The sound is by and large very good.

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