Search the Western Clippings Site

An Interview With…
        - Archives

Will "Sugarfoot" Hutchins
    - July 2023
    - April 2023
    - January 2023
    - October 2021
    - January 2021
    - November 2020
    - June 2020
    - April 2020
    - December 2019
    - November 2019
    - September 2019
    - August 2019
    - July 2019
    - May 2019
    - March 2019
    - September 2018
    - August 2018
    - March 2018
    - February 2018
    - January 2018
    - September 2017
    - August 2017
    - July 2017
    - May 2017
    - April 2017
    - January 2017
    - December 2016
    - October 2016
    - September 2016
    - August 2016
    - July 2016
    - May 2016
    - March 2016
    - February 2016
    - January 2016
    - December 2015
    - November 2015
    - September 2015
    - August 2015
    - July 2015
    - May 2015
    - April 2015
    - March 2015
    - February 2015
    - January 2015
    - December 2014
    - November 2014
    - October 2014
    - September 2014
    - August 2014
    - July 2014
    - May 2014
    - April 2014
    - March 2014
    - February 2014
    - January 2014
    - December 2013
    - November 2013
    - October 2013
    - September 2013
    - August 2013
    - July 2013
    - June 2013
    - May 2013
    - April 2013
    - March 2013
    - February 2013
    - January 2013
    - December 2012
    - November 2012
    - October 2012
    - September 2012
    - August 2012
    - July 2012
    - June 2012
    - May 2012
    - April 2012
    - March 2012
    - February 2012
    - January 2012
    - December 2011
    - November 2011
    - October 2011
    - August 2011
    - July 2011
    - June 2011
    - May 2011
    - April 2011
    - March 2011
    - February 2011
    - January 2011
    - December 2010
    - November 2010
    - October 2010
    - September 2010
    - August 2010
    - July 2010
    - June 2010
    - May 2010
    - April 2010
    - March 2010
    - February 2010
    - January 2010
    - November 2009
    - October 2009
    - September 2009
    - August 2009
    - July 2009
    - June 2009
    - May 2009
    - April 2009
    - March 2009
    - February 2009
    - January 2009
    - December 2008
    - November 2008
    - September 2008
    - August 2008
    - June 2008
    - April 2008
    - March 2008
    - February 2008

Do You Remember?
    - Archives

Comic Book Cowboys
    - Archives

Westerns of...
    - Archives

Heavies and Characters
      - Archives

The Stuntmen - Neil Summers
    - Archives

Western Treasures
    - Archives

Circus Cowboys
    - Archives

Radio Range Riders
    - Archives

Rangeland Elegance
    - Archives

Western Artifacts
    - Archives

Film Festival Fotos
    - Archives

Silent Western Reviews
    - Archives

Serial Report
    - Archives

Subscribe to Western Clippings

COLLECTIBLES FOR SALE:

Western Clippings Back Issues

Daily Comic Strips
    - Page 1 (1910-1949)
    - Page 2 (1950-1979)

Sunday Comic Strips
    - 1907-1990

Books

Miscellaneous Collectibles

Autographs

Lobby Cards

Movie Posters

Home

APRIL 2017
Howdy! I’ll never forget my favorite shoe shine. Back in the ‘80s I was a warehouseman at NBC, Burbank. My steel-toed boots needed TLC—I upped to Floyd’s Stand, sat, and offered-up my feet. Floyd was probably the world’s most famous shiner of shoes. He shined it on for celebs just before they went on stage to sit next to Johnny Carson. A tradition, don’t you know? Sinatra was Floyd’s biggest tipper, Nixon the chintziest. Me? Somewhere in between. Floyd applied black polish, took out his well-worn rag, and made it go snap, crackle, pop. Along came Mr. and Mrs. Robert Goulet. They hopped aboard, filling the two remaining chairs. Charming…bloody charming. Goulet was spiffied up. I sported a faded blue smock. Like a shot, Floyd
Robert Goulet. switched allegiance to Goulet’s fancy footwear. Next to the stand was a wall of fame, a vast collection of framed 8x10s, autographed by Floyd’s clientele. I was on that wall! I penned, “Howdy, Floyd! Shine! Away your bluesies. Shine! Start with your shoesies!” We were a frolicsome foursome. I suggested forming an ad hoc barbershop quartet for a rousing rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner”. Heh Heh.

Mr. Goulet is renowned for singing it a tad off Francis Scott Key. When he belted it, the crowd cringed with crossed fingers and silent prayers. He made it a song of suspense.

Back in the ‘70s I was ringmaster for the ever-popular American Continental Circus. I led the audience in our National Anthem. “Come on! Everybody sing!” I lip-synched the high notes. When our circus crossed the border into Canada, Presto! We became the Canadian International Circus! I managed “O Canada” okay. I didn’t Goulet it up.

In grammar school each a-yawn we sang “My Country Tis of Thee” (stolen from the Brits’ “God Save the Queen/King”) then recited The Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag. We didn’t salute—too Heil Hitlerish. I asked our teacher, “Mrs. Lovell, who is Richard Stands?” “Who is Who?” “You know, And the Republic for Richard Stands?” “That’s for which it stands.” “Oh!”

Happy echoes from childhood: seeing “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” and hearing for the first time “Columbia the Gem of the Ocean.” “Mrs. Lovell, could our class take a whack at it?” Boy, what a jolly National Anthem that would be, accompanied by a snappy Military brass band. Hi Ho. The one we have is just fine, if you happen to be an opera singer. The melody comes from an ancient English drinking song, the lyrics from a poem about war. My three favorite singers of our National Anthem: (1) Bing Crosby—simply, quietly, directly. Just for you. (2) Johnny Crawford. At a horse show at the Pickwick Stables in Burbank, Johnny in cowboy duds meandered out to a fence, pulled out his pitch pipe, and sang it a capella. Babs and I don’t recall the horse show, but we remember the thrill of Johnny’s pure perfection. (3) 1991—Super Bowl XXV—Whitney Houston. Utilizing her three octave range, she sang it as we’ve never heard before, and never will again. She stopped the world. At Yankee Stadium, Kate Smith sings “God Bless America” before the 7th inning strrretch. Why not Whitney Houston and her “Star Spangled Banner” before every Super Bowl from now on? Oh, fly away, Sweet Song bird, fly away home.

Roscoe Ates.Boyd! Donna! ‘Preciate your recollectin’ “MacBrewster The Bold” “Sugarfoot” episode. Three kilted relatives from Scotland come to America. They dude me up in kilts. They want me to go home with them. I reckon I’d better stay, so what do they do? Why, they take Ruta Lee back with them. In real life, I’m a Scot on my dad’s side. We were MacHutchason in the Old Country, part of The Stewart Clan. So, lad, I’ll be forever plaid. Les Goodwins of “Mexican Spitfire” fame directed. He was a jolly cockney, a huggable joy. Real easy goin’. Roscoe Ates, the stuttering comic relief, made Goodwins, the three Scots, and the lady-on-the-set-ABC-censor a mite edgy. While the camera rolled, Roscoe picked up a stick and lifted one of the Scot’s kilts to see what he could see. “Cut!” Don’t know about the Scots, I was wearing skivvies.

Roscoe told me about working with Wallace Beery in “The Champ”. Boy, you had to stir your imagination on that puppy. Beery played heavyweight champ of the World! On screen, Beery was one of the most beloved performers in flick history. Off screen, he was a bastard. During the fight scenes, Roscoe was in Beery’s corner. At the end of each round, Beery’d come back to his stool and greet Roscoe with an achy-breaky kick to the shin. But don’t get me wrong. I love Hollywood.

Peter Breck as Teddy Roosevelt, John Alvin and Ty Hardin look after Whitney Blake in "Bronco: Yankee Tornado".Then there is mi amigo Peter Breck. I’m so lucky to have known him. He played Teddy Roosevelt on one of our epics, “Man From Medora.” Terrific on screen, terrificker off it. One of my favorite compadres at Col. Warner’s honor ranch. Never saw him in a snit. Always a good word, always a big grin. Bully! And was he a jokester? Yes! One of our fellow contractees was rather diminutive in stature, not in ego. Ol’ Peter felt he had to go into action. He rounded-up some cronies one evening after work. They snuck into said contractee’s posh dressing quarters, removed the furniture, and replaced it with kiddies’ toy tables, chairs, beds and the like.

       —Adios