Soupy Sales (known to his parents as Milton Supman) died 14 years ago this coming October 22nd. His legacy is carried on in the stand up routines of today’s comics. Without the genius of men and women like Soupy, the tear-inducing laughter we enjoy while watching comedians perform their “no holds barred” spiels would be unknown to us.
I always loved Soupy. I loved him more after meeting him one long ago winter day in New York City. I post the story of that meeting every year as a tribute to the man who broke the rules and, in so doing, gave us so much joy.
Two identical yellow silk neckties hang side by side in the far reaches of my closet. One is much shorter than the other, being the appropriate length for a seven-year-old boy to wear. Both were used only once – 39 years ago on the set of a commercial I cannot remember. What I do remember is that Soupy Sales was the star, and my son was his second banana.
Portraying young and old Soupy, the two actors were impeccably dressed in matching navy blue suits, white shirts and beautiful silk ties. I can see them in my mind's eye as though it was yesterday. My son was allowed to keep the suit at the end of the day, but it is the tie -- that yellow silk necktie – which will be forever memorable.
When word came from my son’s manager that he would be working with Soupy Sales, my husband went into a tizzy. Soupy Sales -- the man who was thrown off television more times than Superman leapt tall buildings. In his own way, Soupy Sales jumped just as many hurdles. He opened the door, literally and figuratively, to the “mature audiences only” humor that is prevalent today.
Everyone over the age of 50 has fond memories of The Soupy Sales Show, which began airing nationally on ABC in 1959. To the little urchins, including me, who sat crossed legged on their living room floors, noses pressed against tiny 12 inch black and white television screens, White Fang and Black Tooth were hand puppets that made us laugh. To Soupy Sales, however, they were an integral part of his routine.
In our innocence, the often unscripted dialogue flew over our heads like, well, like Superman. Whereas comic extraordinaire George Carlin is credited with forcing the FCC to acknowledge that people do not really talk like Puritans, Soupy Sales worked his magic in more subtle ways. His show was reality television with intellect.
What Soupy did was push the envelope just enough to nudge censors and advertisers to take a stand -- against him. If you are of retirement age, you will remember the New Year's Day incident of 1965! With parents sleeping off the effects of the night before, kids heard Soupy tell them to tip toe into the master bedroom and take those "funny green pieces of paper with pictures of U.S. Presidents" from their dad's pockets. "Put them in an envelope and mail them to me. I'll send you a postcard from Puerto Rico." And with that, another pie hit him in the face!
Much to Soupy Sales' amusement and the station's embarrassment, kids did as they were told. Soupy announced on the show that he had been joking and that the money would be given to charity. Unfortunately, the outcry from parents forced WNEW to suspend him for a few weeks, which only made him more popular.
Getting back to the commercial, when my husband learned that our son would be working with his childhood idol, there was no keeping him off the set. We arrived on location in Manhattan at the god-awful hour of 6:30 am, which meant we had to leave our home in New Jersey at 5 am. While Michael slept soundly in the back seat of our car, my husband behaved much like a Mexican jumping bean. He could barely contain his excitement.
Filming a commercial is a long, dreary, boring project. Not so this day. Soupy Sales was wonderful to everyone. He spent hours talking with my husband and reminiscing about those early days in broadcasting. He treated our son with a gentleness usually reserved for family members. I was content to watch and listen.
When the day was over, we stopped by Soupy's dressing room to thank him and say, “Goodbye.” He was still in costume and, as he bent to shake our son's hand, he removed his tie and placed it around our son’s neck. "Someday you will be too tall for the tie you have on. Take this one with you and remember me when you wear it."
Two identical yellow silk neckties hang side by side in my closet. Filled with memories, they are too special to wear. Special -- just like Soupy Sales.
Donna Carbone is the Executive Director/Playwright in Residence at the Palm Beach Institute for the Entertainment Arts. Please visit PBIEA at: pbinstituteforentertainmentarts.com