Tag: Wayne Howell

The Last Of The Announcers Retires

This is not a major news story. The Associated Press reported it and it was picked in a few places, including MSNBC. Howard Reig, one of the last remaining staff announcers&#185 has retired from NBC.

These are the guys who used to do the “NI” or network identification at the end of programs, intro’ed shows and were always there to say, “Please stand by,” or “NBC Radio news on the hour. Now from Cleveland, Virgil Dominic.&#178”

Reig was best known as the voice of NBC Nightly News.

As I remember, about 25 years ago the networks eliminated staff announcers, opening the way for the freelance promotional voices you hear now. Part of the deal was an agreement for lifetime employment for the staffers.

When I was a kid these guys did everything. They sat in the booth for live voiceovers, but they also appeared on shows – even hosted some. I remember names like Wayne Howell, Pat Hernon, Ed Herlihy, Gene Hamilton, Bill Wendell, Fred Facey, Don Pardo and Reig on NBC. Sometimes you’d hear these guys on NBC Radio Monitor late Saturday and Sunday nights. They were the utility infielders of broadcasting.

When I was a kid, I thought what they did was cool and actually thought I might enjoy being a booth announcer. My voice never deepened enough to make that happen. Actually, I still think what they did was cool, though unfortunately, of another era.

&#185 – All the citations I can find say Reig is the last of the breed, but isn’t Don Pardo still on staff doing Saturday Night Live? Is Joel Goddard, on Conan, a staffer?

&#178 – Every day, one NBC Radio “News On The Hour” (either 4 or 5 PM, I can’t remember) originiated at WKYC, the owned and operated station in Cleveland.

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Why I’m Envious of Rick Allison

When I was a kid, growing up in the heart of the 50s, I knew the name and voice of every booth announcer on TV. There were men like Wayne Howell, Gene Hamilton, Don Pardo, Bill Wendel, Ed Herlihy, Fred Foy, Don Robertson, Bill Baldwin, Carl Caruso – you get the idea.

Back then, even when the show wasn’t live, the announcer was. There was someone sitting in a darkened announce booth at each station every hour of the broadcast day. It was all part of the agreement the New York stations, and networks, had with AFTRA (American Federation of Television and Radio Artists – I’m a member).

So, when you heard someone say, “This is NBC,” or “That’s tomorrow at 8, 7 Central time,” it was one of these guys, live. I knew them all. Secretly, I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to say, as Mel Brandt did, “The following program is brought to you in living color on NBC.”

It was not to be. In order to be a booth announcer you needed something I never had, and even at age 54 still don’t have – pipes.

When I was a disk jockey, doing mornings in Philadelphia, Julian Breen (who was in charge of programming at the station I worked for, WPEN) thought it might be a good idea to use a “Harmonizer” on my voice. That’s a device which would allow them to change my pitch – make me sound more grown-up.

When I worked at WIP in Philadelphia, at that time the premiere adult station in town, they gave me a pass on doing voice over production. With Tom Moran, Dick Clayton and Bill St. James on staff, there was no reason to use me.

It’s been a disappointment, but I understand. I just don’t have the most important natural tool for the job. My voice is unique, just not in the right way.

Today, I got an email from Rick Allison. He’s a friend who lives here in Connecticut. He is an announcer.

I’m not sure if that’s the job description he would use, but that’s what he does. From a studio in his basement, as well maintained and acoustically perfect as any, Rick reads other people’s words into a microphone and cashes checks. With high speed data lines carrying his voice, it’s usually not necessary to leave the house.

He is the voice of MSNBC and Bob’s Stores. He’s on ESPN, HBO and USA and a load of radio stations. You have heard him on a thousand commercials, a deep voice with a touch of gravel. It is friendly and assuring.

In person, he resembles everyone I knew in the 60s and 70s. That is one of his most charming features. He is at once commanding and disarming with long hair on his head and more on his face.

Rick does a show on Sirius satellite radio. My guess is, he does the show for the same reason other men raise tomatoes. It takes time and money to raise tomatoes. It’s not like you can’t buy them at the store – maybe for less than you can grow them. Still there’s an immense satisfaction in creating something of value.

Rick’s in radio for the satisfaction of growing something. I can’t believe he’s in it for the money.

Anyway, hearing from Rick today just reminded me of this childhood fantasy that would never be. It’s what got me into radio – and probably what finally got me out and into television.

I am envious of Rick, not because of the work he does, but because of the talent he has. It’s a talent I always wanted – a gift I never received.

Quizzzzzzz-master

I was speaking to someone tonight about game show hosts. I’ll let you in on a poorly kept secret – I’ve always wanted to be a game show host.

I remember the classic Mary Tyler Moore Show episode when Ted is asked to host a game show. Lou, trying to stop him from making the move says, “Ted… is that what you want to be… a quizzzzzz-master?” The “z” in quiz prolonged, to make the point.

That night I yelled at my TV – “YES! I do.”

I’m not sure when or why the job started to appeal to me. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that as host you always knew the answer to questions, even when the contestants didn’t. Maybe it’s because, as a kid growing up in New York City, most of my local TV heroes also hosted game shows.

Back, sometime in the early sixties, I actually went to a live broadcast at 30 Rock. I don’t remember the show, or who the host was. I remember Wayne Howell, the announcer.

Wayne warmed up the audience. Considering my age at the time, it was probably my first experience seeing standup. He was very funny. The jokes were very corny. There is one joke Wayne did that day that I have stolen as my own.

The floor director counted down the time to air, saying “one minute,” “30 seconds,” and finally “10 seconds to go.” At which time without missing a beat, Wayne Howell said, “If you have to.”

The audience screamed, and we were on our way. Forty years later that cheap, little joke still has significance to me. He pulled it off so well.

There have been some excellent hosts. Looking back at the old tapes on Game Show Network, I can see why I loved Match Game’s Gene Rayburn. He was so fast on his feet and always listening, making him topically funny.

Even when he used a contestant’s flub as the butt of his joke, he never came off as anything but nice. It’s easy to make a joke at someone else’s expense and look mean. He was masterful in avoiding that trap.

Bill Cullen was another great host, but in a different way. He was more of a bright everyman. I don’t remember him throwing one liners, but as with Rayburn, he was always listening and responding.

The most important on-air quality for a host to possess is his/her ability to make the audience believe he’s rooting for the contestant. Watch Pat Sajack spin the wheel in the final round – always finding big money. It’s no accident. I think viewers sense Pat is consciously doing that, and subconsciously they like it and him.

Bert Convey was that way too. Though he did a number of shows, I think his best work was on Tattletales. Tattletales was a show where celebrity husbands and their (now divorced or deceased) wives would be quizzed on what they knew about each other. It was similar to, but less low brow, smarmy or sexual than the Newlywed Game. Convery was everyone’s friend, always helping.

I’d like to throw Chuck Barris into this mix for his work on the Gong Show, but I suspect I was watching one very stoned individual who would be incapable to duplicating his performance while straight. I really don’t know that, but it’s my assumption.

And there’s Chuck Woolery, Allen Ludden, Bob Barker, Tom Bergeron, Ken Ober, Regis, and a host of others who’d be offended if they ever came across this site and saw I left out their name. That’s life – get over it.

Without game shows I wouldn’t know about the Michael C. Fina Company or Spiegel – Chicago 60601 or that it was McCormick in the east and Schilling in the west (or was it the other way around) or remember Kathy Lee Gifford as Kathy Lee Johnson, when she was adorable and sang 5 seconds at a time on Name That Tune..

As is often the case in the performing arts, it’s not just the game ,or just the host, but a plethora of interlocking imponderables that make for a success or failure. Chuck Woolery never had the success with Wheel that Pat Sajack does. A number of different hosts tried doing syndicated, nighttime versions of the Price is Right – without success.

I’ve seen Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, from Singapore, hosted by The Flying Dutchman (a morning disk jockey there). Same set, same music, same game. It needed Regis.

Who knows if I’ll ever get the chance? I’d move heaven and Earth. It’s a crap shoot, I suppose. Whether I’m talented or not, being the weatherman in New Haven is probably not a huge selling point. Though I’m immature for my age, it might be said that I’m too old.

I hope I’d be good at it. It would be fun to find out. I think I already know how to play the game.

This is Jeopardy: The Taping

Jeopardy’s producers decided the 2003 College Tournament would be held at Yale. Excellent choice. Not just because it’s down the street from work, which it is, but because Yale is steeped in tradition and excellence.

I have been involved in a number of Yale events over the years, and every time I’ve interacted with its students, I’ve come away impressed.

Unlike your high school prom, Jeopardy was able to make a gymnasium totally unrecognizable as such, and move in with everything you need to make TV. Cameras, a lightning grid that would make a rock band jealous, a new Jeopardy set… it was all there and in place. A replica of Rodin’s Thinker wore a Yale cap.

As the weatherman from the ‘host’ station, I was invited to say a few words to the 1,500 or so in attendance for the two final shows. To quote the title of a long forgotten Broadway show, “We Bombed in New Haven.” It was not my finest, most stellar moment, as a live entertainer.

When I am unhappy with a performance, I want the opportunity to do it again. It’s frustrating.

Johnny Gilbert, the man who starts every show by saying, “This is Jeopardy” did the real warm-up and seemed like a nice guy. Bob Boden from Game Show Network once did a count of Johnny’s TV shows – and the count reached over 50.

I was very excited to meet Johnny, because I’ve always had this ‘thing’ about announcers. It probably goes back to the first time I attended a game show broadcast. It was the early ’60s, NBC Studios at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, and I can’t remember the show or host for the life of me.

I do remember Wayne Howell. He was the announcer and he did the warm-up. He was great. I remember how impressed I was that we were getting this comedy routine before the show. He was really killing with some really old material.

More than anything, I remember the floor manager calling out “thirty seconds to go” and Wayne, not missing a beat, adding, “if you have to.”

With the warm up over, Alex Trebek came out. So many people look different on TV, not Trebek. He looks exactly the same. Though I don’t sense he is outgoingly warm, he spent a great deal of time in the audience answering questions. That personal contact is very important. I give him credit for that.

Because the shows haven’t yet aired, I will hold my tongue on exactly what transpired, only to say, the three contestants were male, very smart and astoundingly young. One could easily have passed for 14 or 15. None of the three came from Ivy League Schools and one attended a more or less a local, non-selective college that you’ve never heard of.

Though the staff tries to tape Jeopardy in real time, doing a half hour show in 30 minutes, that was not to be. A few of the responses weren’t what the writers had expected. Were they as right as the chosen answer? A conference took place – research was performed. This was no two bit game show. Someone was going home with $50,000 and a car. The answers needed to be correct beyond the shadow of a doubt.

There was also a bit of technical trouble. One of the computers used by the contestants to write their answers went down. Technicians coaxed it into working on the first show, but couldn’t get it to cooperate for Final Jeopardy on the second.

During one of these breaks, I was introduced to Harry Friedman, Executive Producer. He had the confident manner of the guy who knows how to get the goose to continue laying those golden eggs.

I could tell from speaking to him that he knew a show like this had to be a first class production in every way to succeed. Everything had to look perfect.

When we began taping without the computer working, one of the staffers told me how Harry was a major stickler, and that the problem must have been insurmountable for him to allow production to continue.

In local TV, unfortunately, because we’re live and on a much tighter budget, we often move through problems without solving them. Jeopardy can’t afford to do that. I am so jealous.