Five times to Australia.  Five wonderful times.  The first time, never dreaming there would be more, we showed off what we thought was our most impressive stuff. When we were invited to come again, we accepted instantly.  Then, we began to wonder, what the hell are we gonna do? 

Turns out, what we had determined was ‘our most impressive stuff’ had all been very recent work.  When we considered the entire library of things done over the last ten years or so, that ‘most impressive’ list changed considerably.  So, our second trip to Australia was a  kind of a history of  how our creative approaches had changed over time. 

In the beginning, our spots were either musical, or comedy, or a combination of both. When Danny Dark became a part of our talent repertoire, we starting doing some beautiful narrative stuff.  When we decided that everything we did should, somehow or another, elicit that ‘affirmative emotional response,’ the creative chains came off.  We were no longer writing spots ‘just for laughs.’  People told us, some of our ‘Reach Out’ spots made them cry.  Our musical things cast off the curse of  jingles, and many of them were really beautiful ... music and lyrics.  I remember a spot we did for Dreyer’s Grand Ice Cream which began with a gorgeous chorus singing ...  

                        Can you imagine an ice cream that’s an act of kindness?

                        Could you ever dream an ice cream dream?

                        Are you one who desires,

                        And sometimes requires       

                        Dryer’s Grand Ice Cream?

                        Oh yes!  What a grand ice cream.           

And some pretty heavy dramatic stuff.   Channel Four News in New York was doing a powerful series in their newscasts to show the people of New York how to keep gangs and guns out of their neighborhoods.  We created a spot which began with a very heavy rhythm track in which every downbeat was a gun shot. Over this, was an angry man’s voice shouting:   

                        I live here damn it!  I won’t take it anymore!

                        Everybody get together.  Get your set on Four

                        And TAKE BACK YOUR BLOCK! 

Those many years ago, little kid voices, on radio, were done by adult women actresses who made a specialty of doing kids.  I believe we were the first to use real kids. If not, I apologize to whomever it was that freed the medium of those squeaky women pretending to mispronounce words like a four year old.  Kids were certainly a specialty with us.   Our first kid stars, from age three till seven, were Josh Richman, Don’s unbelievably talented son, and the dear, sweet Christina Applegate.  I love her, still. 

                        JEFFREY: (Josh) There she is Chrissie.  Our new baby sister.

                        CHRISSIE: (With some dismay) Oh!  Jeffrey!  We got a bald one.

Of course,  the charm, the beauty and/or the drama of these things doesn’t really come roaring off the printed page.  But, at a time when most ‘creative’ radio was either a jingle or a joke, these things really jumped out of the radio.

Our ‘Australian Farewell Appearance’ went very well, especially the ‘after’ parties.  During one of these parties, a party from New Zealand asked if we would consider making an appearance in his country.  Consider it we did.  It took about a second and a half for both of us to respond, “YES!”  So, our next trip ‘down under’ was almost four hours shorter.  Only fourteen hours, L A to N Z.                                                           

Arriving in Auckland, we were met by a group of four New Zealand broadcasters.  They whisked us through customs, our luggage was sent to the hotel, and in less than a half hour we were on board a fabulous yacht.  New Zealand is the most unbelievably beautiful country in the world, made to seem even more so by ‘magic grass’ supplied by our broadcasting friends.  After a few hours cruising amongst the islands, Don mentioned he was getting a little hungry.  The four man crew immediately jumped into diving gear and then dove into the ocean.  In less than five minutes they returned, each of them with a giant lobster in each hand.  In another couple of minutes, we were all sitting on the deck consuming fresh New Zealand lobster dipped in  melted butter, and sipping  Australian white wine.  I can vividly remember Don saying, “When they ask you ‘Why?”...  he looked around at the amazing islands of New Zealand, the yacht, the lobster, the wine, and continued ... “This is why!” 

We had an astonishing adventure in New Zealand.  Much like Australia, we were the guests of New Zealand radio for a full week.  Our only obligations were a presentation in Auckland, and four days later, an encore presentation in Wellington.  One of our initial ‘greeters’ volunteered to fill those four days with the wonders of this beautiful land.  The first two days were more of the beauty of this awesome country.  At the end of the second day, our host/guide told us, “Tomorrow will be the most spectacular day of all ... tomorrow we go to the top of the Appalachian Alps.”  We had no idea what was in store.  Matter of fact, neither did Mr. Host/Guide. 

7 AM the next day, we meet H/G at the airport.  We are told by the lady at the counter that we are the only passengers on the flight.  “Just the three of us?” asks Don.  The lady smiles and nods a positive response.  “How big’s the plane?” was my question.  “Oh,” she says, “It’s one of our bigger planes.  It seats eight.  Come on.  I’ll show you.”  As she walked us to the tiny little 8 passenger plane, she pointed to a  small stepladder and asked H/G to bring it along.  She stepped up the ladder, opened the door, got back down  and invited us to climb on board.  We did.  It’s amazing how three people can damn near fill an eight passenger plane.  At least that’s how we felt.  Then the pilot came on board.  Oh God ... It was the counter-lady, but now she was wearing a leather jacket with a huge fur collar.  She sat down next to us, explaining it was a very small airline and all the employees have to do some kind of double duty.  She gave us the necessary “Keep your seat belts fastened” then she told us “We can leave whenever you want. I’m going to fly you to Camp Cook, which is about half way to the top.  Then you’ll switch to a smaller plane.”

I could see Don growing pale.  “A smaller plane?” he gulped, “What is it?  One of those rubber band wind-up jobs?”

“It’s a ski plane.”  She said.  “You’ll be landing in the snow.”

“We’ll be landing in the snow?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have snow shoes.”

“Snow shoes???”  Don’s eyes and mouth were all open very wide.

“Oh, yes.  You’ll love it.  I know you will,”  she said, “Shall we go?”

Don looked at me, kind of pleadingly, “You sure we want to do this thing?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, “Let’s do it!” 

I would like to report that the flight to Camp Cook was a breeze.  But actually, it was more of a gale, sweeping us from side to side while our lovely pilot kept repeating, “Dammit!  I canhardly keep this thing on track.  This is really unusual.  The winds are rarely this ... Oh God.” 

Don stared at me, shook his head back and forth, “You SURE we want to do this, right?” 

I couldn’t answer.  I was frantically searching for the little barf bags. 

Somehow, we landed safely at The Camp Cook Airport and staggered into the terminal.  Well, actually I staggered, Don kind of lurched.  And I think I can safely say, Mr. H/G, careened.  The terminal was a single tiny building about twelve feet square with a single wall-bench running along three of the walls, and a reception desk in front of the fourth.  “Are you the three o’clock flight?” asked the very skinny young man behind the counter. 

“Are we the what?” growled my partner, Mr. Sweetness. 

“You’re here for the three o’clock flight.  To the top of Mount Cook, right?”  The skinny young man could see that Don was not a happy camper, or hiker, or flyer for that matter. “Camp Cook.” the young man enthused, “The highest peak in the Alps of New Zealand.  Twelve thousand three hundred and sixteen feet.  You’ll literally be on top of the world.”

Don was not impressed.  “Great!  On top of the under-side of the world.  We’ll probably fall off the damn thing.” 

“Well, you might as well have a seat, you’re flight is going to be late.” said the skinny kid,

“Seems like we’ve ... uh ... we’ve lost ... uh ... the thing is ... your plane is not here, we can’t find it.” 

“That’s the best news I’ve had today.” Don was ready to call it quits.