THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, July 6, 1995 TAG: 9507060055
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E2 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: LARRY BONKO
LENGTH: Medium: 70 lines
LONG BEFORE Barney, Big Bird and the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers there was Pinky Lee and Kukla, Fran and Ollie.
Of those stars from TV's golden age, only Bozo is still on the tube. The frizzy-haired clown was big with kids in the 1940s when television was two, maybe three channels and a test pattern. Today, when television is cable, satellite dishes, hand-held remotes and VCRs, Bozo is still big with kids.
He survives. He prospers. The man who created and controls the Bozo empire, 70-year-old Larry Harmon of Hollywood and Manhattan, recently signed with the WGN Superstation to continue ``Bozo Super Sunday'' for five more years.
When the year 2000 rolls around, Bozo will mark his 40th year on the Chicago station. ``Bozo Super Sunday'' is seen at 9 a.m. Sundays on cable systems in Hampton Roads.
It has been 50 years since Harmon conceived Bozo first on children's records, then in animation and then on television. Harmon, who had seen stars come and go in Hollywood when he worked in network radio, wanted a character that could last for decades - long after he was gone.
After appearing on children's records as Bozo the Capitol Clown, Harmon borrowed heavily to buy the rights to the name, and in 1946 he set about creating a Bozo for that newfangled thing called TV.
``I had a hunch that television would last,'' Harmon said from his Manhattan offices.
Harmon decided that Bozo would be a clown in full makeup because throughout history it was the clowns and jesters who were easily recognized, loved and respected. And with all of that makeup - Bozo's wig with wings that soar is made of long yak hair imported from Tibet - Bozo would never grow old.
Right from the beginning, Harmon's plan was to franchise Bozo, to have a Bozo on every TV station in the land.
``I gave all the Bozos my walk, my talk, my look, my laugh, my persona. I cloned the clown,'' Harmon said.
While Harmon was Bozo on a station in Los Angeles, he was instructing a staff announcer at a station in Washington. D.C. - Willard Scott - to be Bozo No. 2. Since then, Harmon has taught 203 actors to play the role.
``Howdy! This is your ol' pal, Bozo. We've got the rootin-est, tootin-est, dig-dong-dandy-est show in the whole ding-dong-dandy world.''
There are 76 Bozos ding-dong-dandying it on TV today, stomping around in size 83AAA shoes throughout the United States and a handful of foreign countries. Harmon estimates that the Bozo show has aired more than 50,000 times.
Bozo made Larry Harmon a wealthy man.
He was Bozo 50 years ago, and he is Bozo today.
``I get to play him once in a while . . . at malls, state fairs.''
Bozo still has a following and ratings after all these years because, in Harmon's humble opinion, he created a great character who relates to both kids and grown-ups. ``Bozo has a way of bringing out the kid in all of us,'' Harmon said, ``the youthfulness that has been submerged for a long time. I gave him the wisdom of an adult so that he can handle anything or discuss any subject that comes along. I think he'll be around as long as there is television.''
Why has Bozo been on for so long? Why has this generation of sophisticated, computer-literate, MTV cool young people taken to a totally un-cool character from their grandparents' generation? ``The Bozo magic,'' Harmon said without volunteering to define the magic.
Is Harmon flattered because the name of his creation, ``Bozo,'' has slipped into the language as a synonym for the inept? While it is nice to see ``Bozo'' appear in some dictionaries, said Harmon, it bothers him when Bozo is equated with the dumb and dumber of our society.
If Bozo were a bozo, could he have lasted on TV a half-century? by CNB