"MOM" SEASON (1) DISK (1) EPISODE (2)

NEW EPISODE

My wife, Barbara, and I have just finished watching Season 5 of the gut-grinding show "24." We always wait until the complete series comes out on CD and watch all 24 one-hour episodes in just six evenings. It is very exciting, but, alas, now we will have to wait one year to see Season 6. In honor of this obsession, I am going to shorten the name of my series, "Mansion of Mystery" to "MOM" and break down each drama to Season, Disk and Episode. Even though I created this tongue-in-cheek mystery for Mobil Oil back in the 70s, it has not been heard on radio for over 30 years. It's a wonderful treat for me to have this blog so that I can at least share the radio scripts with you at this time.


The Mansion of Mystery series stars Inspector Thomlason, Sergeant Twilly Girthborne and 131 of the most heinous killers imaginable.

Remember, the idea is to find the clue and solve the crime before the commercial break ends.

MANSION OF MYSTERY
The Case Of The Mad Doctor
c BLT Productions 1975-2007
All Rights Reserved

ANNOUNCER

It’s time for Mansion of Mystery.

SOUND: WOLF WITH A HERNIA HOWLS

ANNOUNCER

Time for another hideous crime that you, the listener, are invited to solve. Today … the CASE of The MAD Doctor.

SOUND: THUNDER (VERY LOUD – WOLF RUNNING)

ANNOUNCER

The scene is the office of Dr. Leeland Quail, Optometrist. Outside Quail’s window, Raymond Lampson’s body lies in a pool of blood, killed by a blow to the head with a heavy object.

Inside the office, Inspector Thomlason, who is investigating this hideous crime, studies Dr. Quail, his equipment and eye chart.

The Inspector speaks.

INSPECTOR

You are an optometrist, Dr. Quail?

QUAIL

Yes...Now if you’ll just read the first line Mr. Thomlason.

INSPECTOR

I’m not here for an eye test Doctor. I’m investigating a murder.

QUAIL

I’m sorry Inspector, but I don’t have my glasses on. I didn’t recognize you.

INSPECTOR

You stated you saw the killer from your office window. Did you have your glasses on then, Dr. Quail?

QUAIL

No I didn’t, but that didn’t matter. I’m near sighted and I could see him quite well. He was across the street. It’s you I can’t see.

INSPECTOR

You stated that the victim had just left your office.

QUAIL

Yes, Inspector. He came in for a check on his post surgery progress.

INSPECTOR

Post surgery, Dr. Quail?

QUAIL

Yes, I’m quite proud of that. Up till a month ago he was blind. I removed cataracts from both eyes. Mr. Lampson is a very lucky man.

INSPECTOR

Mr. Lampson is dead, Dr. Quail.

QUAIL

Oh...right...so he is. Sorry about that.

INSPECTOR

Can you identify the assailant, Dr. Quail?

QUAIL

Oh my yes. Tall, about six feet one. Very thin. Bright red hair and a small goatee.

INSPECTOR

You’re describing yourself, Dr. Quail.

QUAIL

Oh my, how silly. I was looking in that mirror. What a silly slip.

INSPECTOR

Your psychiatrist would call it Freudian, Dr. Quail, Freudian. You have been less than truthful. That is reason enough for me to arrest you for...MURDER!

SOUND: VERY LOUD CLAP OF THUNDER

ANNOUNCER

Well sleuths, This time the INSPECTOR caught TWO clues. Did you? We’ll help you after this.

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COMMERCIAL BREAK

OK, stop scrolling and try and figure out the answer. Remember, there are TWO clues this time. If you aren't sure, scroll back up and read it again. When you think you have the answer, scroll down and enjoy the ending.

Then let me know if you got it and how. This is the honor system. I'm really interested in how easy or hard these suckers are.

Next time, I'm going to leave the answer out and you'll be on your own.

Tick ... Tick ... Tick ... Tick ... Tick ... Tock!

You're time is UP!

--------------------------------------------------

ANNOUNCER

And now back to our mystery.

QUAIL

Just read the top line Mr. Thomlason.

INSPECTOR

Will you stop that nonsense? You are under arrest.

QUAIL

Oh I am so confused.

INSPECTOR

You made two mistakes Doctor. You said you were near sighted but could see perfectly clear far away without your glasses. A real optometrist would know it is just the opposite.

QUAIL

I’m far sighted?

INSPECTOR

You also said you removed cataracts from Lampson’s eyes. Optometrists are not surgeons. They only prescribe glasses. It was you who hit Mr. Lampson over the head.

QUAIL

Is he upset?

INSPECTOR

He is dead, Dr. Quail. D - E - A – D !

QUAIL

That’s not correct Mr. Thomlason. You definitely need glasses.

INSPECTOR

Will you stop that, please? I’m not reading the eye chart. I’m accusing you of murder.

QUAIL

But he found out I wasn’t a real optometrist. He recognized me. He remembered.

INSPECTOR

Remembered what, Dr. Quail?

QUAIL

I almost killed Mr. Lampson twenty years ago.

INSPECTOR

Twenty years ago?

QUAIL

I was a traveling salesman then. I sold him a bottle of youth pills, absolutely guaranteed to make him ten years younger.

INSPECTOR

And they almost killed him?

QUAIL

He was only nine.

SOUND: MUSICAL STING

--------------THE END--------------

To quote from the book, STUFF HAPPENS-AND THEN YOU FIX IT," Some get it. Some don't. Some will. Some won't. Those that do, do. Those that don't, don't.

Did YOU get it?

Want more?

Stay tuned.

The Godfather of Soul is Dead. Long Live The Godfather of Soul

It’s hard to believe that James Brown is gone. It is even harder to believe that he was 73 years old. It seems like only yesterday (do I hear Paul McCartney singing in the background?) that he jumped on to my TV stage and with just one whirl of his magic cape, turned the world on its dancin’ feet. I’m indebted to that guy. He gave my book “Stuff Happens,” the ultimate James Brown compliment, “This book has a lot of soul.”

I first met James Brown at one of his sold-out concerts in the early 60s. As far as I could see, I was the only white person in the audience. But, no one was looking at me. All eyes were up there on the stage watching future magic in the making. He certainly added magic to The Lloyd Thaxton Show.

Years later, while walking down the halls of NBC, I passed the Johnny Carson stage door. A band was rehearsing for that night’s show. The sound was unmistakable. It was the sound that only James Brown could convey. I walked on stage and, sure enough, there he was rehearsing in front of the band. When he saw me, he stopped mid-note, ran over and gave me a big hug. I felt good.

Then, one day I came home and found this message on my answering machine, “Lloyd Thaxton. This is James Brown, the Godfather of Soul. God bless you. Good-bye.”

That other Godfather has a real treat in store.

MANSION OF MYSTERY

Mansion of Mystery? Stay with me on this. Trust me, It will be worth it. It’s going to be fun.

There's an old story about a tourist seeking directions who stops an elderly gentleman on Fifth Avenue in New York City and asks, “Excuse me sir. Can you tell me how to get to Carnegie Hall?’ The old man ponders the question for a few seconds before he says, “Practice. Practice.”

I told you it’s an old story. But, I never get tired of telling it.

Over the years I have been asked a similar question by aspiring TV and theater students, “How does one get a show on radio or TV?” My answer is slightly different from that old gentleman on Fifth Avenue. I usually answer, “Prepare. Prepare.” Many opportunities come as the result of plain old dumb luck and one must always be prepared for such surprises in order to move forward.

In 1975, I helped create a sports game show called “Pro-Fan.” The idea was pitched to a backer who put up the money to produce a pilot. We then took the finished pilot to New York to pitch to the television networks. While in New York our agent, Stan Moger, who was representing the show, asked me if I also had any ideas for a four or five minute radio show. One of his other clients, The Mobil Oil Corporation, was looking for five different short radio shows to put into series in order to launch a six-month daily advertising campaign. Each series would broadcast five days a week for a total of 130 shows.

At the time I was doing a Sunday afternoon talk show on KABC radio in Los Angeles. Always looking for a gimmick to get people involved enough in my program to call in, I had written and produced a three-minute mystery drama that I called “Mansion of Mystery.” The cast included,

INSPECTOR THOMLASON,

SERGEANT TWILLY GIRTHBOURNE













And an extremely “heinous” killer. The idea was to set up the scene with a hidden clue. The listener would try and find the clue, call in and solve the crime.

I told Stan about what I had written and he asked me to send what I had on tape. The problem was there was no taped ending. I had left that blank hoping my KABC listening audience would call in and supply the ending. Undaunted, Stan told me to go back and write, produce, and tape an ending and bring it back to New York on my next trip in.

I went back to LA, recorded an ending, came back to New York, and Stan and I went off to the Mobil Oil offices to pitch the show. I’ll never forget that day. The advertising department was on the 46th floor. We sat across the desk from Mobil Oil's head advertising honcho and I started my pitch. He stopped me as soon as I gave him the title and said, “Why don’t we just listen?”

He took out a small reel-to-reel player, placed it on his desk and played my tape. We sat silently listening and when it shut off he just sat there staring at the stopped tape. Finally he looked up and said, “OK, Stan, that’s three. I need two more.”

Without further ado, we were ushered out of the office and headed for the elevator. After pushing the down button, I said to Stan, “What was that all about? What does, ‘OK, Stan, that’s three, I need two more’ mean?” Stan smiled and answered, “You just sold your show. My goal was to find five different radio series for him. He's already bought a movie review series and a sport commentary series. Your show makes number three. What he was telling me was to find two more shows.”

Needless to say, I was dumbfounded. This was the fastest sale I had ever experienced. As the elevator was plunging down to the first floor, I had to ask, “What do I do now?” Stan looked at me and said, “Go home and write 129 more episodes.”

Dumb luck? Yes. But, I had already been thinking of other episodes for the KABC show and now I had stumbled into something even more exciting, syndication. I actually wrote and produced a total of 131 episodes (one extra for good luck).

The title was changed to “Mobil’s Mansion of Mystery.” After its initial 6-month run, the series was picked up by “Watermark,” a Hollywood radio syndication company, and the show ran for an additional six months.

Recalling this story gave me a new idea. The shows have not aired for 30 years. I thought you might be interested in reading the script for that first show that sold the series and play the game. All you have to do is listen (read, in this case), find the clue and solve the crime. When the show first ran, radio stations would play it, stop at the break, and then offer a prize for the first person to call in with the answer. Why can't we do the same thing? My plan is that if it works on this blog, we can do it as a regular series. I just happen to have 130 more.

We have to start somewhere. How about right here and now?

MANSION OF MYSTERY
c BLT Productions 1975-2006
All Rights Reserved

ANNOUNCER

It’s time for Mansion of Mystery

SOUND: DOG HOWLS – SLIGHTLY OFF-KEY (actually way-off)

Time for another hideous crime that you are invited to solve. Today, “Murder With Style.”

SOUND: THUNDER followed by STREET NOISE

ANNOUNCER

The scene is just outside a ladies dress shop in Soho. A customer was found strangled in the dressing room and Inspector Thomlason and Sergeant Twilly Girthborne are investigating.

INSPECTOR

You are the proprietor, Sir?

DIOR

Yes. My name is Harold Dior. I am the owner of this shop and style setter of the beautiful people.

SERGEANT

I say, did you say Dior?

DIOR

Oh, yes. I am a distant relation to the Great One. I inherited his designing talent. But it was the innovative Chanel who taught me how to use it with style and flair. He was like a father to me.

INSPECTOR

We are off the track here, Mr. Dior. We have a murder to solve. Who was that lady?

DIOR

Oh, yes, the dead one in the dressing room. The one with the typically patterned Pucci scarf, the tan and blue Galanos dress and the saddle brown Gucci shoes?

INSPECTOR

That’s the one.

DIOR

I really didn’t notice her, Inspector.

INSPECTOR

Mr. Dior, I am determined to get to the bottom of this foul crime. And my first question is, why are you lying?

DIOR

Lying?

INSPECTOR

Sergeant. Arrest Mr. Dior. He’s going to jail.

SOUND: THUNDER

ANNOUNCER

Well slueths, the INSPECTOR really has style, doesn’t he? He caught the flaw in DIOR’s story. Did you? We’ll help you after this announcement.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

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OK, Mouse Cliquers, did you get the clue? The mistake in Dior’s story? Remember, the first time I wrote this there was no ending. What you are about to read next is what I went home and wrote after that first meeting. However, before you scroll down too fast, think about it. Try and solve the crime first. You have one minute.

Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick…Tick…Tock

Sorry … Time is up.

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ANNOUNCER

And now back to our mystery.

INTERIOR OF THE STATION HOUSE.

Dior has been placed in a cell. Sergeant Girthborne is in the cell with him. The Inspector stands in the open door.

SERGEANT

Mr. Dior, please give me that dress. This is the station house.

DIOR

This is my new creation, Sergeant. I wouldn’t dare leave it. Someone would steal it. Why am I here, Inspector?


INSPECTOR

Because you lied. That shop is not your shop, Dior. You are just a stockroom worker. I knew you were not a dress designer when you said that Chanel was like a father to you. Mr. Dior, Coco Chanel was a woman.

DIOR

Oh, oh.

INSPECTOR

In reality, the victim was the real owner.

SOUND: MAN RUNNING

SERGEANT

Come back here, Dior.

INSPECTOR

Careful, Sergeant.

DIOR

Oh gracious! Look what you did to my dress. You spilled tea on my beautiful dress.


SERGEANT

Sorry about that. Here let me wipe it.

DIOR

Get away. You’ve ruined it. Sergeant, I’m only going to say this one time. Leave my cell at once and never darken my DIOR again.

SOUND: MUSIC UP AND OUT

OK, how many of you got the clue and solved the crime before the last segment? Be honest now.

Would you like more of this stuff on up-coming blogs? If so, let me know. I’ll figure out some kind of prizes for correct crime solvers.

Like I said, I have 130 more, ready to go.

Stay tuned.

STOP THAT FREAKIN' DANCIN'

I recently read a Los Angeles Times article, written by Staff Writers Seema Mehta and Ashley Powers, titled: “O.C. high school writes rules to take 'freak' out of dancing,” As Nixon might have said, “I am not a prude,” however, as a former dance show host, I felt I must add my two cents.

In case you’re not on the same planet as today’s teen-agers and haven’t heard of freak dancing, take my word for it; it’s the latest rage. Critics explain, “The dance’s carnal positions - girl bent at the waist, boy thrusting behind her - go far beyond previous generations’ bumping and grinding.” My question: “Do all those freaking kids really know what the freak they are doing?” It’s quite obvious, fellow Mouse Cliquers, this is not the Hully Gully we are talking about here.

According to the LA Times article, the principal of the south Orange County California high school has lifted a nearly three-month-long dancing ban he instituted after seeing teenagers' sexually suggestive moves at school dances that were "one step from events that should be occurring on wedding nights."

“The principal’s new guidelines forbid students from ‘straddling each other's legs, bending over, dancing front-to-back, grinding, touching breasts, buttocks or genitals, or ‘making out,’ and require students to keep both feet on the floor.’”

Huh?

Can you baby boomers possibly imagine having to live by rules like these when you went to high school? “No touching buttocks or genitals?” School principals seemed to have turned into real fuddy-duddies. How can the kids of today have any fun at all?

One 15-year old sophomore fought back, “Do we now have to dance 3 feet apart and yell to our date, 'Hey I'm having a great time?'” She predicted that the rules might keep students off the dance floor.

And all along you thought the kids just wanted to dance. Time to get real.

Let’s clear this up once and for all. The name “Freak Dancing” is not meant to describe weird looking people dancing the night away. “Freak” is the now acceptable “F-word;” One that a radio or TV personality can utter without being fined by the Federal Communications Commission (as in, “Freak the freakin’ FCC!”).

The kids of today must think we boomers were really square back in the good old Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll 60s. For instance note Little Eva in the above picture with her pretty white party dress and me in my narrow suit and tie lining up those hip kids for “The (freaking?) Locomotion.” We all thought we were pretty HIP in those days. And we were, actually. However, what we were not was “hip-hop.”

THE USUAL SUSPECTS

It has been suggested that, “all this Freak dancing is inspired by rap artists, rap lyrics and the overly sexual images in hip-hop videos.” I agree. Those videos look pretty sexy to me. That is, when those sexy professionals dance.

However, I must ask this question. Why aren’t today’s students laughing? It has to be a hilarious sight with all those non-sexy amateurs trying to ape the hip-hop dancers they watch on music videos. Bumping and grinding? Straddling each other's legs? Bending over, dancing front-to-back? Grinding? Touching breasts, buttocks or genitals, and making out? That should be pretty hysterical stuff. Has the hip-hop generation completely lost its sense of humor? All those high-school geeks we all remember so well back in the 60s weren’t nearly as funny. Gag me with a spoon (spoon: to kiss, embrace, or fondle with sexual passion)!

Does anyone have a comment on how to curb this craze before kids completely freak out? Can’t ban hip-hop videos. Wouldn’t work. That would just make them go under cover (pun intended).

I have a thought. Let the Rap singers and Hip-Hop dancers continue as before but ONLY if they display this disclaimer at the end of every video.

“THE DANCERS YOU SEE HERE ARE PROFESSIONALS.
DO NOT TRY THIS YOURSELF.”

Stay tuned.