Just in case you missed the first time . . .
- 6 June: D-Day On the Air—73 Years Later
- 31 December: Here’s to the New Year
- 24 December: ‘Tis the night before Christmas
- 20 December: From Macy’s to Dickens on the plains
- 12 December: Eden rocked
- 9 December: The aftermath, continued . . .
- 8 December: Immediate aftermath
- 7 December: The date still lives in infamy
- 5 December: The mean widdle man-kid
- 21 November: Freed fall
We’re building a history here . . .
Tag Archives: Jane Ace
Flummoxing bus company and military leaders in a debate of manhours vs. womanhours just isn’t enough for Jane Ace. What a surprise.
Bus drivers on routes designed specifically to get war plant workers to their jobs expeditiously, Jane (Ace) and Dorothy (Betty Garde) decide to take a lunch break with (Goodman) Ace. And the wry realtor is somewhere between dryly amused and none-too-dryly astonished when the ladies continue struggling, not just with manhours, but with travel speed and company regulations—since they drove to his office in their empty bus.
“She’s fine, if you like Jane,” Goodman Ace would enjoy telling those who asked, in the years after the couple behind Easy Aces leave radio behind. And many did. Not quite enough to make the show an overwhelming ratings hit, but enough to keep it on the air in its original format—a fifteen-minute, semi-serial, dialogic comedy—for fifteen years.
Which was pretty solid for a couple who had no inkling when they married that radio would be their future in the first place.
It is often said that there are those who like to bite the hand that feeds them, and that there are the likes of Henry Morgan who like to bite off the entire arm. Goodman Ace is a man who prefers nibbling at the hand that feeds him. But that doesn’t mean the victim or one of its representatives will take it any more gently.
This son of Latvian immigrants was born 115 years ago today. He became a newspaper reporter, abbreviated his given surname (Aiskowitz), and caught his big radio break when—doing two spots of criticism and mild humour a week—he had to ad-lib fifteen minutes worth of air time when a scheduled show feed fails the Kansas City station where he worked. Prompting him to invite his wife to join an impromptu chat on bridge (a passion of theirs) and a local murder. (“Would you like to shoot a game of bridge, dear?” his loving wife will ask on microphone).
Two from the irrepressible Aces, including one that might have predicted a scandal . . .
It’s a shame you can’t isolate precise dates for most of what survives of Easy Aces. Most of the survivors keep their storylines intact and emanate from the transcriptions Goodman Ace provided Frederick Ziv for broadcasting’s first known rerun syndication. A syndication that provides the delicious irony of being more popular as syndicated reruns than the respected, urbane comedy of manners and malaprops was in its fifteen-year first-time production life.