Goodbye to another glorious gal
If you’ve ever seen Ed Wood Jr.‘s Glen or Glenda (1953), you’ll understand how cool it was that we once got to pose for a picture with Dolores Fuller while wearing an angora sweater (we were wearing the sweater, that is—not Ms. Fuller).
Fuller, who died yesterday at the age of 88, led an interesting life well worth celebrating. Not only did was she once an “item” with the man some consider the most inept (but hardly the least interesting) movie director of all time, but she co-wrote songs for several Elvis Presley movies, among them “Do the Clam.”
Allow us to repeat that, so that it properly sinks in: Dolores Fuller was once Ed Wood’s paramour, appearing in two of his most (in)famous directorial efforts, the aforementioned Glen or Glenda and Jail Bait (1954) (not to mention her smaller role in Wood’s Bride of the Monster (1955), and she co-wrote “Do the Clam.”
Fuller also studied acting with Stella Adler in New York City, was a child extra in Frank Capra‘s It Happened One Night, a model on TV’s Queen for a Day and Dinah Shore‘s stand-in on Shore’s early-’50s television show.
Fuller also started a record company and served as a talent manager, even playing an instrumental role in Johnny Rivers‘ early recording career.
She even penned a memoir in 2008, A Fuller Life: Hollywood, Ed Wood, and Me.
Fuller was truly a glorious gal, one to whom we’re sad to be saying goodbye. Rest in peace, Ms. Fuller; here’s hoping you are, even as we write this, joyfully doing the Clam in a far, far better place.
Snapshot in Prose: Bing Crosby
What a career Bing Crosby had. Is there anyone in popular culture who got his start in the 1920s who is as well remembered today as Der Bingle?
Perhaps Louis Armstrong.
Many folks 55 years old and younger will recall only the more sedate, older Bing, he of the briarwood pipes, stingy-brimmed fedoras, and cardigan sweaters.
But in his early years, Bing was like Elvis Presley—a white man singing music inspired and influenced by the music of the African-American community.
He also was something of a wild man off-stage, as he is said to have had, in those days, a penchant for going on alcohol-fueled tears.
By the time this profile was published in December 1935, Bing was long since a huge star, having conquered vaudeville, recordings, radio and movies. He had much great success still to come, but it’s interesting to consider this early look back at his rise to stardom.

Bing Crosby will tell you that he is the laziest man in the United States, but it is doubtful if a more ambitious and energetic person ever fought his way to the pinnacles of success.
Snapshot in Prose: censorship
For those who think outrage over lyrics and rhythms in popular music began with those decrying gangsta rap, with Tipper Gore‘s penchant for warning stickers, or even those fuddy-duddies who were outraged by the onstage antics of Elvis Presley and other rockers in the 1950s, what follows may come be an eye-opener For, while Snapshot in Prose usually profiles a popular Cladrite Radio performer at a particular point in his or her career, this week, we’re sharing a 1934 essay from Popular Songs magazine bemoaning the intrusion into the popular music and radio broadcasts of the day by would-be moral arbiters armed with newly sharpened censor’s scissors.
It’s interesting to note that the article mentions the “purification” of movies, too, given that 1934 was the year that Breen Production Code began to be strictly enforced by Will Hayes and his associates.

Recently, just when radio censorship was quieting down—and movies were getting the brunt of it from the Decency Leagues—five of the most famous orchestra leaders banded together for the announced purpose of protecting the public’s delicate ears from offensive lyrics.
Fridays with Rudy
Longtime listeners to and readers of Cladrite Radio know we’re awfully fond of Rudy Vallée. We’ve come to very much enjoy his music over the years, as our appreciation for the music of that era has increased, and we get a kick out of his odd, often salacious personality. He really seems to have been kind of bonkers, in a not unpleasing way, like the weird but entertaining uncle who threatens every November to spoil Thanksgiving (in the eyes of the ladies, anyway) with an inappropriate tales of his wilder days.
It’s not widely understood today just how big a star Vallée was at one time. He was the first crooner, the one who started that craze, and this new style of vocalizing was viewed as very intimate, very seductive—even transgressive. It’s not a huge leap to say that Vallée was the first Elvis Presley, in that he was singing in a style that much of the old guard discounted entirely and that many elements of society viewed as inappropriate and even shocking.
It’s understandable that most listeners wouldn’t quite “get” Vallée today (we don’t mean you, gentle reader—the Cladrite Clan gets it) and most modern listeners certainly wouldn’t find Vallée’s singing sexy and seductive, but it was certainly viewed as such when he first hit the scene. Vallée even described himself, late in life, as having had “a cock in my voice” (see? we told you he was a weird uncle). He was breaking the rules of popular singing and making young women swoon—causing, as Vallée once wrote, “all flapperdom to become stirred as it has never been stirred before”—in much the same way Frank Sinatra, Presley, Otis Redding, The Beatles, and so many others would do in the ensuing decades (Vallée even performed a song or two that might be considered risqué by some today), but he was arguably the first to do so. As such, it’s intriguing to ponder what was considered sensual and sexy in 1929, as opposed to today.
Beginning next Friday, we’ll explore Vallée’s first memoir, published in 1930, called Vagabond Dreams Come True, but this week, we thought we’d share with you a humorous poem written back when Rudy was at his most popular. This very funny ditty was penned by one Marjorie C. Diven, about whom we’ve been able to ascertain not a darned thing. Anyone out there know anything about Ms. Diven’s life and work? (We’ve provided some additional info about certain of the references in the poem; just place your mouse over the highlighted words—no need to click—and you’ll see the text in a pop-up.)
| HUSBAND’S LAMENT |
|
FROM the day my wife Sally first heard Rudy Vallée,
I’m here to announce that my troubles began;
We dress to his crooning, we eat to his spooning;
I tell you there’s no getting rid of the man.
We can’t even sleep nights because of his “Deep Nights”
That wing through the air from the Villa Vallee,
And “Vagabond Lover” I often discover,
Is cheering my darling when I am away.
While I’m making money he radios “Honey,”
“I wonder,” says Sally, “Just whom does he mean?”
We are asked out to dine and does she answer “Fine?”
Oh no—”You forget, dear, tonight is Clopin.”
You can’t toss a hat any place in the flat,
Without hitting Rudy in this pose or that,
I ask you what chance has a regular spouse,
When some other guy lives all over the house?
When that didn’t suit her, my wife turned commuter,
And followed this baby out into the sticks,
I know from her blushing, she’s been out to Flushing,
The Bronx or to Brooklyn for him and his tricks.
If dinner is tardy, she’s at the Lombardy,
His megaponetics intriguing her so.
Where Rudy is playing, that’s where she is straying;
I look in the papers to see and I know.
She bought a new dress for the Villa, I guess;
We danced to his music and ate quite a bit,
And on leaving “Ten East” I was thinking, at least,
Life must be worth while for a fellow with “It.”
His records—we buy them, at all hours we try them;
Of course I protest, and it’s always in vain.
She hates being bossed, though it isn’t the cost
But the upkeep of Vallée that drives me insane.
Now ever since Sally first saw Rudy Vallée,
She’s been rather love; perhaps she is foxy.
There’s nothing distressing about her caressing,
But sometimes I think I am Rudy by proxy.
|
| MARJORIE C. DIVEN |
Great music at popular prices
We have no interest in being bargain spotters — there are too many sites that already cover that ground — but occasionally, when we find a really top-notch deal that fits nicely here at Cladrite Radio, we’ll share it with you.
Les Voix d’or d’Hollywood is a five-disc CD collection of tunes taken from the golden age of Hollywood musicals. It’s from the French label Marianne Melodie, and, so far as we can ascertain, is available in the United States only in the form of downloadable MP3s. The set includes 126 tracks, covering the thirty-year period from 1927 to 1957 and performed by artists ranging from Al Jolsen to Fred Astaire, the Benny Goodman Orchestra, Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, and Elvis Presley, among dozens of others.
iTunes sells the set for $54.99, which is not so bad, really, for a five-disc compilation with so many tracks — it’s just over 41 cents a song. But Amazon is offering the entire set as MP3 downloads for just $19.98, or just under 16 cents a song. That’s pretty hard to beat (you have to buy the whole set to get that price, mind you — individual songs are much more).
Here’s the link; take a look at the full lineup and see what you think. And tell ‘em your pals at Cladrite Radio sent you.
Are You Having Any Fun?
Hey fellow with a million smackers
And nervous indigestion
Rich fellow, eats milk and crackers,
I'll ask you one question,
You silly so and so,
With all your dough...
Are you having any fun?
What you getting out of livin'?
What good is what you've got
If you're not having any fun?
Are you having any laughs?
Are you getting any lovin'?
If other people do,
So can you, have a little fun.
After the honey's in the cone,
Little bees go out and play.
Even the old grey mare down home
Has got to have hay. Hey!
You better have some fun.
You ain't gonna live forever.
Before you're old and gray, feel okay.
Have your little fun, son!
Have your little fun!
Why do you work and slave and save?
Life is full of ifs and buts.
You know the squirrels save and save,
And what have they got? Nuts!
Better have a little fun.
You ain't gonna live forever.
Before you're old and grey, still okay,
Have your little fun, son!
Have your little fun!
Are you havin' any fun?
---Sammy Fain (music) and Jack Yellen (lyrics), 1939







