Posted by chicagomedia.org on October 01, 2009 at 14:49:51:
Catching up with local children's TV legend Bill Jackson
Underappreciated by some accounts, but revered in Chicago, Bill Jackson shares his iconic TV creation on DVD
Mark Caro
TRIBUNE REPORTER
October 1, 2009
"B.J. and Dirty Dragon documentary relives the golden age of children's television," read the headline of the e-mail that landed in my inbox. It came from none other than Bill Jackson.
The Bill Jackson.
Whether this name has mythical resonance to you no doubt has much to do with how old you are and whether you grew up in the Chicago area (and had a UHF antenna). "Cartoon Town" debuted on WFLD-Ch. 32 in February 1968 and lasted until July 1973, by which point it had been renamed "The B.J. and Dirty Dragon Show" -- and by which point the era of live-hosted, elaborately produced children's television was pretty much over.
The show was Jackson, his dark hair and era-appropriate sideburns peeking out beneath a red or blue derby, interacting with an elaborate array of puppets of his design, carving shapes out of an interactive clay blob known as Blob, drawing famous folks in a game called Whozit and airing cartoons.
It also had a segment in which kids would mail in their initials and what they wanted to be when they grew up. Jackson would make a drawing incorporating those letters while depicting that profession. I remember mailing in my initials and waiting eagerly by the phone during each show; alas, the call never came.
All of this took place in Cartoon Town, a friendly community populated by such puppet creations as Mother Plumtree, the Old Professor, Wally and Weird, and that cranky postmaster, Dirty Dragon. At the time, these characters were as much a part of many kids' households as Bozo and Cookie, but the WGN-Ch. 9 staple "Bozo's Circus" outlasted Jackson's show and its successors by many years.
If "Bozo" is the classic rock of kids shows, then "Cartoon Town" is more like a cult band that didn't sell a ton of albums but influenced devotees to pick up their own instruments.
Bruce DuMont, the Museum of Broadcast Communications' president and founder, recalled the rapturous reception Jackson received upon returning to Chicago in 1995 for a museum benefit.
"When he walked out on the stage, people went nuts, but when he brought out the rest of his characters, when he brought out the Blob, it was thunderous," DuMont said. "A healthy portion if not a majority of the people who were at that event had all gone into some form of creativity -- advertising, art direction, writing -- and they were there because Bill was their inspiration."
"I'm always just delighted that the show meant something to people and they remember," Jackson, who last month turned 74, said on the phone from his Central California home. "I wanted to promote creativity. It just came naturally to me."
Said DuMont: "I think Bill Jackson is probably the most creative personality ever to work in local television, certainly in Chicago and maybe in other markets as well."
Jackson, a University of Missouri journalism school graduate, worked at stations in Iowa, Ft. Wayne, Ind., and Indianapolis before arriving in Chicago in 1965 to do a WBBM-Ch. 2 weekday show called "Clown Alley," plus a Saturday morning show called "Here Comes Freckles." Jackson created and worked all of the puppets, including Dirty Dragon (originated in Indianapolis and based on an ornery colleague there), just as he would do when "Cartoon Town" debuted weekday afternoons a few years later.
"He voiced everything, and he did everything live (to tape)," recalled Cheryl Stutzke, who joined the small staff about a year into the show. Jackson usually prerecorded the other characters' voices, but when he was improvising with a character, the camera would show a close-up of the puppet while Jackson voiced him.
The show was scripted by Jackson, aside from the drawing segments or when he was interacting with Blob. "I wanted to play off of something, so I thought, 'Wouldn't it be great if the clay talked to me?' " Jackson said. "The result was the Blob."
Blob "talked" by way of prerecorded nonsensical mutterings -- like "Myaw hawwww!" -- that varied depending on how it felt about what Jackson was doing. "I (recorded) almost everything the Blob ever said in one session, and to get the right sound we stuck a microphone inside a tin wastebasket, and I hollered into it," Jackson said. "I went through a series of moods, and I would have Blob happy or sad, angry, whiny."
While Jackson carved, the audio guy would punch up the various tapes at his discretion, and the host had to react on the fly to Blob's utterings.
As "Cartoon Town" caught on, Jackson began touring a popular live version around the Chicago area. The TV show briefly emulated this live-audience presentation when it was renamed "The B.J. and Dirty Dragon Show" in 1971, but although the new name stuck, the show soon reverted to the "Cartoon Town" format.
Although TV ratings weren't widely reported back then, Jackson was under the impression that his show was performing well. But Kaiser Broadcasting took control of the station in 1972, and such a relatively expensive, locally produced kids show wasn't in its long-term plans. Airing "The Brady Bunch" reruns would be much cheaper.
"The whole children's business changed in those days," said Sheldon Cooper, who was WGN's program manager when he put a scaled-down, short-lived version of "B.J." on the station after WFLD canceled it.
Jackson eventually moved his characters into "The Gigglesnort Hotel," an older-skewing Sunday morning show that ran on WLS-Ch. 7 from 1975 through 1977. It, too, ultimately fell victim to cost-cutting.
Jackson went on to produce some holiday specials and to attempt shows in New York and Los Angeles, including a failed adult-oriented pilot pairing Broderick Crawford with Dirty Dragon (!), but nothing stuck.
He taught at the California Institute of the Arts before retiring in 1990. Since then, he said, he has been painting, sculpting, cartooning "and following my creative interests," often with grandchildren by his side.
Enough of the "Gigglesnort" episodes were preserved that Jackson has issued 14 DVD volumes on his own. But when "Cartoon Town"/"B.J." was produced, shows routinely were erased so the expensive videotape could be reused. Jackson said his new DVD, "Remembering ... 'Cartoon Town' and 'B.J. and Dirty Dragon,' " represents "a great percentage of what exists."
Still, it reacquaints you with (or introduces you to) Blob, Dirty Dragon, the rest of those highly detailed puppets and the quick-thinking, multitalented Jackson, who sells it for $30 on his Web site, dirtydragon.com.
Some lament that Jackson never broke out on a national level. "When I think of the national and international appeal that Jim Henson got -- Jim Henson was immensely creative, but Bill Jackson was at his level or higher," DuMont said. "He just did it in Chicago."
Still, when Jackson looks back, it's with fondness, not bitterness. "Remembering" ends with a simple message: "Thank you, Lord."
"I feel God has blessed me all through my life," he said, "and this was one very big one, just being able to do the show. Oh, yeah."
Postscript: When Jackson sent a copy of the DVD, he enclosed a drawing of a guy toiling at a computer keyboard with the initials "MC" visible on his face. Childhood dream fulfilled.
Bill Jackson will return to the Chicago area Dec. 5 for a Museum of Broadcast Communications benefit called "Saturday Morning with B.J. and Dirty Dragon: Live in Person -- One Last Time!" It will take place at the Lake Theatre in Oak Park, and tickets are $60, with VIP seating available for $120. Call 312-245-8200 or order online at www.Museum.TV.