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Morning everybody, music of the stars.
We're gonna be on till high noon central Right here in the Civic Media radio network and thanks for tuning in Today we celebrate those hardest working partners that guide them generations ahead and
Making home the safest place you can think of.
Mylogical fathers, grandfathers, you bet.
And stepfathers too.
And father figure.
Some of our most important connections are the mentors in our lives and the first heroes who shaped
them.
Some of the best places to think of what to say are from greeting cards And it's the first day of summer as well So today we honor on the music of the stars and everybody even outside the programs on radio and television your thoughts rule the day honor the
foundational mentors and first heroes.
The music of the stars on the Civic Media Network and the way we go.
Happy Father's Day everybody and happy
Summer!
There's Mike Douglas on The Ed Sullivan
Show.
It seems like only yesterday.
I can hear my little girl say, Daddy?
There's a boy outside.
His name is Rod.
He wants to play in our backyard.
Can he, Daddy?
Can he, Daddy?
Oh, please, Daddy.
Was it really so long ago that she'd come to me and she'd want to know?
There's a boy outside.
His name is Lee.
He wants to carry my books for me.
Can he, Dad?
Is it all right, Dad?
He's got freckles, Dad.
Popsie?
There's a boy outside.
His name is Tom.
He wants to take me to the prom.
Okay, Popsie?
He's cute, Popsie.
We'll be home early, Popsie.
And before I knew it, time had flown and how my little girl had grown.
And now it was father.
There's a boy outside.
His name is Eddie.
He wants to know if we can go steady.
Can we, Father?
Yes, Father?
Oh, can we borrow the car pop?
Yes, it seems like only yesterday.
I can hear my lovely daughter say, Dad, there's a boy outside.
His name is Jim.
He asked me if I...
I said, yes, dad.
That's something in your eye,
dad.
I love him, dad.
The man in my little girl's life.
The man in my little girl's
life.
A child, an adolescent.
There's another man in my little girl's life.
Hi, Dad.
There's a boy outside.
His name is Tim.
I told him Grandpa was gonna babysit with him.
Thanks, Dad.
Bless you, Dad.
And Tony Bennett
I used to wonder if life could be worthwhile If there was some way I'd ever rate a smile
to do happen by.
If life's worth living, there's every reason why.
I was someone in distress A heart in search of happiness Cause you showed me the way My skies were so gray I never knew
The shadows around me just disappeared from view.
The world became rosy, each corner so cozy, darling, all because...
So let's
start with Tony Bennett according to his son the music.
music legend is retiring from performing on doctor's orders last week Bennett appeared with Lady Gaga and Radio City music hall for what may have been his final time on stage.
The legend who just her 95 earlier this month later canceled the rest of his planned 2021 solo tour dates Bennett was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 2016 traveling his son says is just too exhausting
now.
The shadows around me just disappeared from view.
The world became so rosy, it's kinda so cozy.
Darling, I'll be cool.
I can't say
So even though you forget a lot with Alzheimer's, he remembered the songs.
He could do that.
He could do
the songs.
The
week before he passed away.
Not even just a couple days.
He was
singing.
He sang because of you.
We were getting him up to exercise.
And so it was easy to just latch onto the piano.
And I said, tell him why don't you get up and you can sing.
And he excused to just get him up.
And he's like, I said, why don't you sing?
He's like, what do you want to hear?
I've seen because you so he's saying because of you that was his first it and that was literally just the last song that he sings that the music never left him.
So even though you forget a lot with Alzheimer's he remembered the song he can do that to do the song.
A
week before he passed away.
He's saying because of you.
We were getting him up to exercise and so it's easy to just latch on to the piano.
And I said, tell him why don't you get up and you can sing, you know, any excuse to just get him up?
And he's like, I said, why don't you sing?
He's like, what do you want to hear?
I said, how about singing because of you?
So he sang because of you.
And that was his first hit.
And then that was literally just the last song that he sang.
But the music never left him.
Children at play Memories come from far away Taking me hold in my hand To the playground Wonderland Seasaw Lifting you high Swing
that let you touch the sky then whenever you're through painted pony
At your side, up you climb and down you slide.
When I hear, children at play, memories come from far away.
Taking
me, holding my hand, to go.
turns learning to share jungle gym or teddy bear hide and seek counting to ten oh to play there once again see so lifting you high swing
Let you touch the sky.
Then whenever you're through, painted ponies wait for you.
When I hear children at play, memories come from far away.
She found new ways to connect and communicate with her old friend.
When asking him questions, she'd keep it simple.
For example, if I were to say, Tony, would you like to sing Love for Sale?
He'll say, yeah.
And if I say, Tony, would you like to sing Love for Sale?
Or it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing.
He might not have as easy of a response.
Do you want to say anything goes?
Yeah.
All
right, great.
When that music comes on, something happens to him.
He knows exactly what he's doing and what's important for me actually just to make sure that I don't get in the way of
that.
They dead
That was Paul Peterson.
The music of the stars.
Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy.
Boys come in assorted sizes, weights, and colors, but all boys have the same cream.
To enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day, and to protest with noise, they're only weapon.
When their last minute is finished, then the adult males pack them off to bed at night.
Boys are found everywhere.
On top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to.
Mothers love them.
Little girls hate them.
Older sisters and brothers tolerate them.
Adults ignore them and heaven protects them.
A boy is truth with dirt on its face.
Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.
When you're busy, a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise.
When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly.
Or else he becomes a savage, sadistic jungle creature, bent on destroying the world in himself with it.
A boy is a composite.
He has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the energy of a pocket-sized atomic bomb.
and the curiosity of the camp.
He has the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violin, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a firecracker.
And when he makes something, he has five thumbs on each hand.
He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods.
Water in its natural habitat, large animals, dead, trained, Saturday mornings and fire engines.
Not much for Sunday school, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.
Nobody else is so early to rise or so late to suffer.
Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees and dog.
and breezes.
Nobody else can cram into one pocket a rusty knife, a half-eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty bull Durham sack, two gumdrops, six cents, a slingshot, a chunk of some unknown substance, and a genuine supersonic cold ring with a secret compartment.
A boy is a magical creature.
You can lock him out of your workshop, but you can't lock him out of your heart.
You can get him out of your study, but you can't get him out of your mind.
Mind as well, give up.
He's your captor, your jailer, your boss, your master.
He's that freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing bundle of noise.
But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new.
with those two magic words.
I did.
Here's Paul Anka on the music of the star.
Civic Media Radio Network.
wrote that himself, and Perry Como, the music of the
star.
with Nick Perito's orchestra.
Rowan Drake wrote that.
And the music of the stars on Father's Day, and the first day of the summer.
Remember Bette Medler?
The music of the stars.
Here's Walter Brennan.
While resting one evening by the side of the road, I seen an old farmer in a field he just hold.
His face was all brown and wrinkled by the wind.
And he was talking to the Lord just like he'd be talking to a friend.
Well, sir, he said, in a voice calm and quiet, him corn tassels need second, but
We got no string to tie it.
Had no rain in so long that the fields is mighty dusty.
It's been so unbearable hot that the kids are even getting fussy.
Now that grass down in the pasture should be knee high.
If we could just have a little shower lawn, it might keep the cow from going dry.
Listen to me talk and think I want to drink from it.
Well, if you didn't know me so well, Lord, you'd think I was downright hateful.
You'd think I forgot about the new calf that you sent, the money in the mail that took care of the ranch, Mars Cold is better, and Johnny's home from the Navy, and that good Sunday dinner of chicken dumplings and gravy.
The new preacher you sent us, Lord, he sure is a fine young man.
Why, he's just converting him sinners to beat the band.
Well, yes, I'll be moseying along, Lord.
Won't take no more of your time.
Yes, there's plenty of folks here about you waiting to ring your line.
Even into your Lord and watch over us tonight.
And don't you worry none about us, Lord, because everything's going to be just all right.
I seriously doubt that there was any situation comedy, whether it was one of the lousy ones or the delightful ones, that accurately reflected home life in America.
The ones that were very pleasant and intended not to be very funny, nor did they even try.
I mean, nobody ever tuned in Father Knows Best to die laughing.
For that, you had Sid Caesar, or however you laughed at in those days.
But there was a sweetness to some of those family type shows of the 50s.
And I think what they probably did was make many American teenagers dissatisfied with their actual mothers or fathers.
The mother wasn't as adorable as Donna Reed or as funny as Lucy or as cute and dopey as Gracie Allen or whatever.
Mom was bugged because the washing machine had broken again or daddy came home drunk or whatever the real life problems were.
And I think most Americans of my generation literally came to a moment when they actually said,
quote, I wish life could be more like the movies.
Even when people died in the movies or were blown up by a bomb in World War II or whatever, there was a kind of a glamour and glory to it all.
That isn't how life is.
And again, as regards the TV sitcoms, that was never life.
It was a distraction from life.
It used the characters of life, the mom, the dad, the baby, the teenager.
But it just did cute and consequential things with them, for the most part.
I remember once hearing about a little girl who had seen Gregory Peck to kill a mockingbird.
And I remember, I don't know where I heard this, some discussion among young people that he was a good role model.
They wanted their daddies to be like them.
And occasionally I would get mail from people who only saw the nice, genial, funny side of me on television.
Young people who would say, it was very sad, in effect, or sometimes very close to these words,
I wish you were my daddy or I wish daddy were like you or I wish mommy would marry somebody like you.
A lot of people throw themselves into what they see on television or in my generation on films and some of that is disturbing.
I wrote a book a few months ago called Dumpth about the the dumping of America you might say and Robert Young to refer again to him.
After having been for many years a major film star and then having done Father Knows Best
when later in the 60s he did Marcus Welby MD, got thousands of letters every week from people seeking medical advice.
Dear Dr. Welby, my shoulder hurt.
I find that very depressing.
Steve Allen
there.
In
those days, you wouldn't have ever seen a drama about Alzheimer's disease or cancer or that sort of thing, child molestation.
I mean, the question never even came up.
It's not that there was censorship.
The writers themselves snuffed out any such thought at the moment.
It emerged from their conscious to subconscious.
And the issue, as they say, never came up.
I approve of the greater range of freedom now.
Unfortunately, as man always does with freedom, he abuses it.
And so now we have all kinds of verbal filth and vulgarity and obscenity and classless, moronic giggling and people going, woo, just because somebody said a dirty word, we've really eroded around the edges on a lot of fronts.
I don't think that the great TV audience, and of course,
We're not talking about one thing.
It was 419 little audiences all scotch-taped together.
But however you look at it, I don't think that large audience was consciously looking for anything.
First of all, they saw a glamour in television that can never be recaptured.
Suddenly, a wonder in your home, there was a piece of furniture that talked and lit up and showed dancers and birds flying and stuff.
That was an incredible achievement.
Now, to today's seven-year-old, the television set is no more remarkable than his toothbrush.
It's just one of the things available to him.
If it burns out, he gets bugged.
When we were seeing it come on, I mean, those of us who were already in our 20s and 30s, we were astonished and rightly so.
It happens now in about 20 minutes.
At least it took us five years to lose the glamour.
Now man's on the moon, no kidding.
Hey, that's great.
Let's have lunch, you
know.
This is filled silvers as you've never heard them before.
All of my life
I've been dreaming the wrong dream Hoping the wrong hope Singing the wrong songs All of my life All of my life I've been picking the wrong horse Saying the wrong thing Making the wrong bets All of my life
I thought there was nothing alive Just wait for that lucky hunch Just throw that lucky punch Wham!
You took me the champ Yesterday you batted zero Hit a home or you're a hero I thought there was nothing alive Just wait for that lucky hunch There must be something more to it Somewhere along the line I
Blow it.
All of my life.
I've been meeting the wrong crowd, wearing the wrong tie, dancing the wrong steps.
All of my life.
All of my life.
I've been off on the wrong beam, back in the wrong team, dreaming the wrong dream.
All of my life.
Folks, step right up and meet a loser.
Come on, it's novelty night.
Anybody can meet a winner.
Show a little guts.
Shake hands with a loser.
Meet the champ for the losers.
Come on, I don't mind.
I must like losing.
I've been doing it so long.
On the day I was born, I went into training.
I was grooming myself for oblivion.
And I made it.
Funny.
Funny?
Wanna hear a good one?
I even lost my wife.
Okay?
Where are you?
Are the kids home from school yet?
What kids?
I've got no time for kids.
I'm too busy trying to get a table.
Funny?
Funny?
They could keep you screaming like this for hours.
Hold it.
Hold it.
Wait a minute.
This check is mine.
Hold it.
This is you be crammed.
I reach.
Eddie, let me 20.
I'll give it back to you in no time.
Eddie, come on.
Eddie!
What?
Take a job?
What job?
This job?
Right here?
Are you nuts?
I don't want this job.
I want that job!
Way up there!
The one I can't reach!
The shortcut!
Look out.
Step aside, they can't see me.
Here I am, folks.
The loser.
No magic.
No hocus pocus.
Nothing up my sleeve.
Nothing.
But absolutely nothing.
I thought the American dream was wait for that one big break.
Just give the dice a shake.
Wow!
You two can be on top.
Be an overnight sensation.
Meet the press and face the nation.
I thought the American dream was wait for that one big break.
There must be something more to it.
Somewhere along the line.
All of my life I've been learning the wrong tricks Pulling the wrong strings Making the wrong moves All of my life All of my life I've been off on the wrong beam Backing the wrong team Dreaming the wrong dream All of my life All of my life
Phil Silver's, this is Walter
Brennan.
Many years ago, in days of childhood, I used to play until the setting of the sun.
We yonder down an old familiar pathway.
I'd hear my mother call when day was done.
Come home, come home, it's supper time.
Come home, come home, it's supper time.
The shadows lengthen fast.
Come home, come home, it's supper
time.
Come home, come home, it's supper time.
We're
going home at
last.
We're going home at last.
You know, neighbors, I just imagine that a lot of you folks are listening to this song now are grown people.
Both men and women.
And I know that you folks like to reminisce at times as I have many times about my childhood.
And one of the most pleasant memories of my childhood past was when my mother used to come to the back of the steps of the old home place and say, come on home son, it's supper time.
But you know,
Time has woven the realization now, the truth that's even far more thrilling.
And that's when someone shall call, and all of God's children shall go home where it will be suppertime.
With God around the great white table, certainly the greatest of them all.
You saw
Music of the Stars, John Denver, of course, John did a lot of stuff like that.
I kind of pondered whether
to put that on, but well, it's life, isn't it?
Now, stand by for NBC News.
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