Excerpt #42 from the long-awaited book that Chuck Blore has almost finished writing ...

www.chuckblore.com

About half way through that eight year campaign the Reach Out agency people came calling again, with several books of research. “We want to share this information with you personally.” they said. And then, they proceeded to show us the new ‘numbers.’ Wow! A complete national turn around.

America’s description of long distance calling no longer made reference the ‘big bulge in their bill.’ Now, long distance was, “The only way to keep in close touch with someone you love who is far away.” Even then, Don and I hadn’t realized how that campaign, and how that emotional approach to advertising, had spread. The impact of it really hit home when I was actually invited to have dinner with ‘The Queen.’ Yep. That queen. Her Majesty, The Queen of England.

The British Broadcasting Company, The BBC, had, since it’s inception, been non-commercial. I recall it being somewhere in the late sixties when, probably having something to do with economic reality, they decided to change their ways and allow commercial radio. I was absolutely stunned when I was invited to be a ‘Guest of the British Government,’ along with three others; an FCC Commissioner; a commercial radio consultant; and Paul Frees, an extraordinary voice talent on both commercials and cartoons. We were invited to come to England, as Guests of The Queen; to speak to a gathering of British Broadcasters about commercial radio and radio commercials. Then, that evening, to have dinner with ... Her Majesty.

Over the years, we had used Paul Frees a few times on special kinds of spots and realized in addition to his very real talent, he was a very real eccentric. Paul would limit himself to five ‘gigs’ a day, allowing fifty minutes maximum at each job; a fact his agent was very careful to make clear each time Paul was hired. He was driven to each ‘gig’ by his personal chauffeur in a big black Bentley Automobile. If Paul had not returned to the car in forty five minutes, the chauffeur would come into the control room and stare at the clock.

At every session, Paul would pull me aside and ask me to use him on ‘some of those Reach Out spots.’ He said to me more than once “I’d really like to do some real acting.”. And more than once I said, we would. Yet, we didn’t call him again until we needed an ... ‘Aging voice of the wind’ or maybe ... “A beautiful princess with the voice of a pug puppy.”

When we got to England we rehearsed our presentation the day before we were to do it for real. But, we rehearsed without Paul. I told everyone not to be concerned, Paul could be strange, but I assured everyone, as far as I knew, Paul had never not shown up for a ‘gig.’ Next day, we had a second run-through a couple of hours before we were ‘on’. Still, no Paul. It was decided then, that I would do both the creative and production segments, incorporating the contributions Paul was to make. .

We were actually seated on stage, waiting for the curtain to rise, when Paul finally showed. He quickly explained that he had met a girl on the plane to England and they had fallen in love. Her name was Bonny. Instantly they knew it was the real thing, but for some reason, they couldn’t get married in England. So, they drove to Scotland, got married, and, “Really had to hurry to make it back on time.” As I said, Paul could be weird, but he always showed up. Someone ran for an extra chair and rearranged the stage as Paul and I re-rearranged our presentation. It went beautifully, and at a Q and A after the session, seventy-five percent of the questions were directed to Paul. He answered them in as entertaining a manner as anyone I had ever seen. Sometimes changing voices completely as much as two or three times to give one answer. There was no question, Paul was a star.

There was one more rehearsal we all had to attend. Dinner with Her Majesty. We had been warned to bring a Tuxedo, and all but Paul obliged. He said, “Hey Chuck. Apologize to the Queen for me will you? This is my wedding night for God’s sakes. Bonny and I are gonna drive back up to Scotland and stay in a castle, where I’ll be the King.”

Well, I never did get quite close enough to The Queen to give her Paul’s message. She was seated at the head table, and I was just one, among a hundred British Broadcasters and their wives, who ... this is the part we rehearsed ... lifted our glasses toward the head table and all-as-one said, “The Queen.” She nodded and we sat. The dinner, which was really quite spectacular, lasted over two hours, in the middle of which, we were all asked to stand once again. Our guest of honor was leaving early.

Couple of years later, I was invited to speak with a small group, similar to the London quartet, in Barcelona Spain. Judy and I were newly married and this was to be a glorious honeymoon. Our flight was L.A. to N.Y., N.Y. to Lisbon, and Lisbon to Barcelona. Problems started on the very first leg of our journey when we heard, “Ladies and Gentleman, this is your Captain speaking. There is unexpected turbulence in the New York area and we will be landing in Atlanta.” What? Atlanta? So, a good part of the first night of our honeymoon was spent in a very hot, sweaty Atlanta airport. And, we quickly learned that the turbulence in the New York area had actually been a malfunctioning fuel gauge on our airplane. We were finally put on another flight to New York ... without our luggage. No worries, it was to be put on the very next flight and would catch up with us before we left for Lisbon. Wrong. We got to New York just in time to catch the Lisbon flight. Our luggage would follow. In Lisbon, we had a two hour wait. We took a taxi tour of a lot of lovely statues and fountains but, when the plane left for Barcelona, it was still ... sans suitcases.

We were to meet our little group in Barcelona at nine-thirty AM. Then, meet the mayor of Barcelona at ten. Judy opted out, saying the clothes she wore for the past twenty hours looked like crap, and I couldn’t really argue the point. I explained my rumpled self to the group and they were all very empathetic. Then, after a tour of his beautiful Barcelona, the mayor was going to present us to the Spanish Broadcasters. No rehearsal this time. And this time was when we really should have had several shots at it, because the audience was Spanish. Only about ten percent of the people we were speaking to could speak English. We were told this would not be a problem, because the entire audience would be wearing earphones, through which everything would be translated. What a disaster. Most of my presentation was pre-recorded and the tapes were in the lost luggage. Then, an even bigger disaster. The suitcases did show up. Judy called the Mayors office and someone from the Mayors office caught up to us and explained that our luggage, and my presentation had arrived. The mayor sent for it.

I had pre-recorded what was about a two minute, very funny I thought, intro to my part of the presentation. It depended heavily on sound effects and people talking over each other in significant segues. The segues made no sense if you didn’t hear what both voices were saying and more importantly, the way it was being said. With one Spanish speaking translator trying to communicate some highly produced multi-voiced stuff, which he was hearing for the first time ... the whole thing sucked! Then, after the produced opening ended with an introduction to me ... there was no reaction at all ... everyone still seemed kind of bewildered. No one knew what the hell they had just heard and the live presentation very quickly died. As did I. I died over and over again, as everything I did seemed to turn to a low grade kind of mud.

Humility is a wonderful thing, and boy, I was soaked in it ... or maybe it was just the sweat.