Mornings With Barney Dick Wolfsie (best ebook reader for ubuntu .txt) 📖

pro. That movie introduction ran thousands of times over the years. Whenever I would visit the theater, I’d enjoy it as people laughed at the movie opening.

Barney’s success on the big screen led to more success for him on the little screen, which was based on what Channel 8 was showing on the big screen. I’d better explain.

General Manager Paul Karpowicz’s feelings about Barney grew more positive over the years, so much so that he began to think about additional ways to capitalize on the dog’s popularity.

WISH-TV had a stockpile of old movies, films that had been purchased but were just taking up space in the studio basement. Others were part of an old rental agreement that we were contractually stuck with. Some were good, but many clearly were in the B-movie category. What did the B stand for? “Maybe it stands for beagle,” surmised Karpowicz, who suggested to me one day that we do a late-night show called—are you ready for this?—Barney’s Bad Movies.

A gutsy move, really. We were advertising that the movies were stinko, but by putting Barney’s name on the program, it might attract a bit more attention in that late-night slot where ratings had waned on the weekends.

But wait. It was more than just the title for a show. We built this elaborate set with movie lights, an old movie projector, and a doghouse. And a fire hydrant that I borrowed from the city. There was a desk for me and a chair for the hound. This was real showbiz. No expense was spared. That’s because we had no money. We built the set from stuff people brought in. Kim Gratz, one of the producers, was assigned the project. She had no idea how this was going to work. And that was twice as much as I knew.

We decided that Barney should have an actual role in rating the weekly movies. For each film, we would prerecord what is called a wrap-around (TV talk for an intro and “outro” to the movie). Usually we’d make fun of the movie, but we’d always feature Barney in some quirky, offbeat way. If the movie was really bad, we’d take shots of Barney sleeping, usually on his back, and put them in the corner of the screen during the picture. Then when it was over we’d rate the movie with—yeah, you guessed it—one to four fire hydrants. Okay, so you didn’t guess it.

Barney jumped on the couch and really did sleep through every movie, not unlike our viewers, I’m quite sure. The ratings did not rise appreciably, but Karpowicz’s contention was—quite clever, really—that even if people didn’t watch the flick, they’d see the promos and word would spread about this off-the-wall idea. People would talk about WISH-TV. And maybe that would boost ratings in the morning.

Over the five-year run we even had special guests like Indianapolis Mayor Steve Goldsmith, Michael Medved (the film critic), Boomer (the Pacers mascot), Soupy Sales, and many of the Channel 8 reporters. Patty Spitler, the station film critic, made several appearances, often to defend the movie and spar with Barney over his fire hydrant ratings. Patty was much more forgiving. Barney was a tough critic, but even-pawed. He slept through everything.

Well, not everything. During one commercial break he realized it was a real fire hydrant on the set and he reacted appropriately, especially considering the quality of the movie.

One Friday night we showed Patton, starring George C. Scott. This was a far better movie than our usual fare, so to celebrate, I dressed as a WWII general and we even found a K-9 Army uniform for Barney. Sadly, he only got to be a corporal, one of the few times I outranked him. At the breaks, I barked orders to Barney to sit, stay, come. I don’t think he would have listened to the real Patton, either.

Barney’s Bad Movies ran almost four years, but after Karpowicz left, the new boss didn’t have quite the same commitment to the idea, it not being his and all. Barney finally lost his gig, the victim of poor ratings and the end of our film rights to many of the flops.

That’s showbiz, even if you’re a dog.

TV, movies, magazines. What about radio? Even the growing popularity of Barney could not buffer me from what was almost a career and personal disaster in 1994, a year that threatened my relationship with my son, my wife, and the potential for a growing fan base. There were times when I thought that Barney was my only friend.

The Rush of Radio

I was content with my job at WISH but recognized that I was still basically a talk show host at heart. Morning pieces were two minutes long but embarrassingly short in content. Sure, I did some innovative things, stuff that most others would not have dared do on live TV, but the segments were basically sound bites—nothing more than a snapshot of an issue or upcoming event. It was a break from what was often a typical morning newscast, chock-full of natural disasters, murders, and stock traffic reports. The morning team at WISH was clearly the loosest and most informal of all the anchors on the different stations, but news was basically serious.

I often thought back to my previous stints when I’d been interviewing politicians, doctors, and lawyers; people with dramatic personal stories who might have spent an hour on the couch next to me. The show was often about just one issue. It was educational. I enjoyed that role. It lit up the teacher in me.

My role at WISH was a blast. I did love getting laughs and creating on-the-spot lunacy each morning, but there was something missing. I didn’t want my career to end sitting on a circus elephant or interviewing a pastry chef.

In November 1994, I returned a call from the local mega AM station, WIBC. They were looking for a few local personalities to fill in the 9-to-12 lineup while they searched for