Remembering George Riddle: Performing is the biggest thrill of all

(Editor's Note: George Riddle, a former Goshen resident, died Friday. He was an actor in film and on Broadway. This article penned by Riddle ran in a special sesquicentennial edition of The Goshen News July 3, 1981.)

At age 11 I didn't have a lot of change in my pocket, so the "Kiddie Matinee" at the old Lincoln Theatre which featured 10 cartoons, a "B" western, and Chapter 7 of a "Superman" serial was not on my list of Saturday activities.

But the "B" western on a particular Saturday starred Lash LaRue, a unique cowboy star who dressed in black, (most cowboy heroes wore white) and fought the bad guys with a whip, mostly. The price of admission was 14 cents and I had exactly one quarter, enough to treat myself to a box of popcorn for a dime.

So, on this Saturday when I announced at lunch that I was going to the movies, my little brother, Bobby, who was 5 years old, set up a howl. "I wanna go too!" My heart sank. Here I was, a very grown up 11 years old, and I was faced with the prospect of having to drag along a little kid. I was sure it would cramp my style, which I was working on. Mom said I couldn't go unless I took Bobby along. So with visions of Lash LaRue jerking guns out of the outlaws’ hands with his blacksnake whip, I reluctantly agreed to take Bobby along.

The manager of the Lincoln Theatre must have been a creative chap, because he organized a "talent contest" on Saturdays before the cartoons began, probably in an effort to keep the kids from wrecking the place, and I had sort of planned to enter this contest in hopes of winning first prize, a free pass to the next Saturday's "Kiddie Matinee" plus a box of buttered popcorn.

But now that I was dragging a ball-and-chain in the form of a 5-year-old little brother, I wasn't sure if my plan to enter the contest was such a good idea. While walking the four and a half blocks to the theatre I decided to enter anyway, and enlist Bobby's help. I taught him the words to "Mule Train," a current song made popular by Frankie Lane, and rehearsed him in making the sound effects, mule-skinner yellin’, and clopping sounds. If the theatre had been one block closer, we wouldn't have had enough rehearsal!

Most of the contestants were "girls," a word pronounced with great disgust, since I was still smarting from the sound thrashing I had received only a few weeks earlier at the hands of Barbara, a rapidly developing Amazon in my class, who had taken offense at a chance remark about the size of her chest. These "girls" sang songs like, "Sweet Little Buttercup" and other sissy stuff. The way they fought, you would think they knew all the words to "The Marine Hymn."

The audience that day was very rude, and either talked throughout the various songs or yelled out, "Get off the stage" or for some repeat performers "Oh nooooo … not her again!" And for variety, the entire audience rendered the ever popular raspberry sound In unison, I believe.

Some of the performers were unable to finish because of the din. Others left the stage crying, and slipped down into their seats hoping to disappear from their tormentors. I figured Bobby and I could at least do no worse.

Our time came at last. Bobby started out making his mule-clopping sounds, our introduction, and I started singing as loud as I could, with Bobby joining me in the middle of the verse, and I added additional sounds needed. When we finished, I realized that the talking and yelling had stopped, and there was even some polite clapping. After all the contestants had performed, the manager lined us all up and stood behind us, holding his hand over our heads and signaled for applause, the winner being the one who got the most applause.

Since Bobby and I had been the last, and the kids were eager for their cartoons to begin, I figured our applause was quite healthy. Then I realized we broke up the joint "We Won." The manager handed us both passes to next Saturday's kiddie matinee and a coupon for buttered popcorn. Tangible proof that George and Bobby Riddle won that day. In fact, we won for three or four weeks in a row, each time singing "Mule Train" and each time adding more sound effects, mule-skinner yellin’ and clopping.

During that summer, we tried several different songs after tiring of doing "Mule Train" week after week. Another song I remember we did was "Bippity, Boppity, Boo" from some Walt Disney movie, and once, when my creative juices were running dry, we did a medley of radio commercial jingles. We only rehearsed while walking to the theatre so they were short commercials. One was, "MmmmmMmmmm Good, MmmmmMmmm Good, That's what Campbell's soups are, MmmmmMmmmm Good" and another was "Use Ajax (Boom Boom) The Foaming Cleanser (BaBaBa Bum Bum Bum Bum) Wash the Dirt, Right Down the Drain! (BaBaBaBa Bum) We couldn't seem to lose no matter what we did.

Finally, after having won the talent contest for nine or 10 consecutive weeks, the manager told us we were no longer eligible to compete in the talent contest, and he gave us a pass for the rest of the summer. But the free popcorn was over!

We were being bought out, Bobby and I. Sold out! Perhaps he thought we had lost our amateur standing, having won so many times in a row. But Bobby and I retired with dignity. We had our free pass to the "Kiddie Matinee" for all summer.

But something was missing. I don't think Bobby and I used our pass very much the rest of the summer. The entertainment up there on the silver screen didn't compare to the thrill of performing, and we had tasted that thrill!

The U.S. Congress recently passed a bill raising the debt ceiling to $31.4 trillion, at least until January 2025. Congress created the debt ceiling in 1917, and since 1960 has raised the limit 78 — now 79 — times, according to the Council on Foreign Relations. Do you believe the debt ceiling still serves a useful purpose?