Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1954-12-07
On the Air

easiest thing for a television
columnist to do, especially if
he has come by a normal supply
of offspring through the years.
The taste for olives is. supposed
to be an acquired one, but along
side a taste for opera it Is one
of the baser instincts.
Some graduate from olives to
ripe olives to snails to- octopus
to rattlesnake meat without ever
acquiring a taste for opera. In
the young it is rarely discernible
at all.
So there was considerable
grumbling Sunday afternoon at
8 when the NBC Opera Theater
took over the screen and
launched into Puccini's SISTER
Angelica. The 6-year-old. ever
distrustful of his fathers SUM-
day afternoon viewing habits.
had wisely taken himself else
where and was out helping the
neighborhood dogs chase the
neighborhood cats, or something.
His sub-teen sister and 8-year-
old brother remained to glare.
This was a rude and unexpected
interruption to the anticipated
pleasant afternoon with the
galloping electrons.
"Do you HAVE to watch that?"
daughter wanted to know. At
the affirmative answer she
groaned and adopted the stormy
look she might assume If her
daily ration of candy, cupcakes
and coke were cut in half.
It'd maybe rather watch foot
ball." her brother declared. Since
he normally regards football on
television as the greatest bore
ever dreamed up by his maniacal
elders. this was less than a COM
| pliment. There was whispered
conference in which the word
"screechipg" could be detected.
The 8-year-old did sit up and
pay attention when Elaine NAL
bin got into her first solo.
why Is she in the convent"
he wanted to know.
"Her parents sent her there"
his sister said.
why is she singing?" he asked
and nobody had an answer for
that. Then the stern figure of
the mother superior of SISTER
Angelica" hove into view.
X y +
"Oh-oh," said the 8-year-old.
Mother Amata." Reminded of
this symbol of weekday disci-
pline. he fled the room, followed
closely by his sister. He wasn't
heard from again land he wasn't
missed, either) until Sister An
gelica" had almost run its me-
lodic and dramatic course.
rs it over?" he called from
another room.
"It soon will be-" he was told.
"Good," he said. I'm tired of
listening to all those sisters try
ing to sing!"
"You," he was admonished,
"are talking about Elaine Malbin.
She not only sings fine, but is a
doll. too. as you would know If
you had been allowed to watch
'Salome. ="
Well" he declared fatty, 'if |
they think they can sing, they |
ought to listen to Eddie Fisher. |
HE can sing"
That seemed to finish that.
With some people, opera may re-
place football. but it will never
take the place of Eddie Fisher.
AFTERTHOUGHT - Some of |
the best television never gets on |
teleVlSlOn. 1nere was the inter- |
view Mark Evans was having the /
other morning ON his .WTOP-TV |
show. His guest was Robin How
ard of the British Travel Agency. |
He proved a lively interviewer
and the conversation was most
diverting. It was so interesting
that Mr.. Evans and his guest
continued it after the show was |
of the air. It was then that Mr..
Howard had his afterthought.
II suppose I should have told |
you what my grandfather said
about Winston Churchill. he
said. who was your grand
father?" Mr.. Evans wanted to
know.
Stanley Baldwin said his
guest, as Mr.. Evans Jaw dropped.
What his grandfather said was
that he had frequently disagreed /
with Winston but that he was q |