21 January 2019

The Real Bozo the Clown - Part 3


Bozo finds his way

By BILL MILLER
For the Mail Tribune

Last week, we left Jacksonville’s Pinto Colvig bringing his “many freckles” and “my goony antics” to Los Angeles. It was 1922, and this would be his home for the rest of his life.
He was doing well in the film industry— script writing, animating, and working with the best in the silent movie business. The only thing missing was his voice ability, an ability that would soon gain him the nickname, “The Man of 1,000 Voices.”
Two events shaped his destiny. First, Walt Disney’s animation work, including Mickey Mouse staring in the cartoon, “Steamboat Willie, and second, Disney’s construction in 1925 of his own animation studio.
“When I saw the Disney product and the Disney plant expanding and using real concrete instead of makeshift construction, I figured that’s the spot for me. There’s something that looks permanent enough to keep me going until I make up my mind about my career.”
Pinto signed a contract with Disney in 1930.
“Walt Disney is just a big boy, clowning around, who will never grow up. He takes humor seriously.”
Although more outgoing than Disney, Pinto had found a kindred spirit. For the next seven
Goofy - Disney
years, the character voices he created and the sounds he could make, were a vital part of Disney’s success.
Pinto became Pluto the Pup, Goofy the Hick, and while voicing the Practical Pig of the “Three Little Pigs,” he was also the wolf himself, and lyricist for the featured song, “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.”
When Disney stunned the world with the first feature length animated film, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Pinto was voice of dwarfs Sleepy and Grumpy, and also the sounds of Dopey’s hiccups, and
Sleepy - Disney
the reawakening kiss between the Prince and Snow White.
One day, while Pinto’s father was visiting the Disney studio and watching his son bark, sniff, and whine as Pluto, he turned to Disney.
Pluto - Disney
“Funny thing, Walt. I sent my son to college hoping that he would learn dignity and music. According to his enthusiastic letters, I thought he was running your studio. Now—what do I see? My son barking like a dog.”
Pinto loved to tell stories of how he came up with his character voices. However, reflecting his impish personality, those stories were always changing.
He was asked time and again who was his favorite character.
“No favorite; although it might be Goofy. He’s the epitome of all the hicks in the world and the easiest to play. Guess that’s because I’m a corn-fed hick myself.”
After he left Disney in 1937, Pinto freelanced his vocal skills. He became Bluto in the Popeye cartoons for Max Fleischer and did many of the voices in Fleischer’s animated film “Gulliver’s Travels.” Pinto also did voices for MGM, including one of the munchkins in “The Wizard of Oz.”
In 1946, Pinto signed with Capitol Records to become the voice of Bozo the Clown in a series
The Real Bozo - Pinto Colvig
of records designed to help children read. He was also the first to portray Bozo on television.
Vance Debar “Pinto” Colvig’s enthusiastic craziness died October 3, 1967, and he now rests in Los Angeles.
It was an unusually serious Pinto who visited Jacksonville in 1962. Holding back tears, he asked to see the Oregon Street home where he was born.
“I just wanted to walk into that little house, stick my head in the door and say, thank you Mom and Dad for having me born and raised in Jacksonville—this fine little town. I never did like to visit graves, so this is my tribute to them. Bless ‘em!”

 
Writer Bill Miller is the author of “History Snoopin’,”a collection of his previous history columns and stories. Reach him at newsmiller@live.com or WilliamMMiller.com.



Bill Miller - History Snoopin'

14 January 2019

The Real Bozo - Part 2


Bozo Goes to Hollywood
By Bill Miller - For the Mail Tribune


Last week, we left Pinto Colvig, the self-described “Village Clown” of Jacksonville, telling us about playing E-flat clarinet in Corvallis with the Oregon Agricultural College band. At best it was a tongue in cheek education.

“I learned how to paddle a canoe and roll Bull Durham cigarettes with one hand, before I broke lose as a chalk talker.”

Pinto’s cartoons in student publications had made him popular on campus and led to his chalk talks—standing on stage, delivering a rapid fire, funny monologue, while quickly drawing cartoon characters on a large blackboard.
Vance DeBar "Pinto" Colvig

In early 1913, he left college, joined a vaudeville circuit, and took his chalk talks on the road. In September, he even appeared on Medford’s Page Theater stage. But the circus was always on his mind.

“Come early springtime, the green grass, elephants, and the call of the Calliope would lure me back to the circus, where I clowned, played clarinet on the bandwagon, and often pitch hit as barker for the big show. … The life I love.”

In the fall of 1914, he briefly took a job as a cartoonist for two Nevada newspapers, but it couldn’t last.

“Then came another spring. ‘Twas circus time and I was off. I finished the season atop the bandwagon and then sailed from Los Angeles to Portland. There I met a wonderful girl, Miss Margaret Slavin, who was willing to marry. I kissed all the elephants goodbye forever.”

One of Pinto’s prized possessions from those circus days was a “good luck” hair from an elephant’s tail that he kept in his wallet for the rest of his life.

The couple moved to San Francisco where Pinto went to work as a cartoonist and feature writer for the Call Bulletin newspaper. 

“I was known as the ‘boob reporter’ and, after a year, I quit to make the first color animated cartoons.”

Pinto formed the Animated Cartoon and Film Corporation and is indeed credited with creating the very first color animated cartoon. Soon; however, most of his staff were drafted into the Army to fight in WWI and his company closed down.

Pinto Colvig
“Then I made a strip for the Chronicle, which was syndicated throughout the country. My newspaper interviews put me in touch with the movie people who encourage me until I kicked over the traces and went to Los Angeles.”

Pinto was in demand, working as an animator, gag writer, occasional film actor, and vocal sound effects man for some of the biggest names in Hollywood, including Max Sennett of “Keystone Cops” fame and Walter Lanz, future creator and voice of Woody Woodpecker.

 Perhaps because they were close in age, one of his favorite Hollywood “bosses” was the legendary silent film
Vance DeBar "Pinto" Colvig
producer/director Jack White.

“Jack White, only 24 years old with 12 different minds where only one ought to be. He’s a great fellow to work for. Yet, I seem to work—with—not for him.”

In 1930, Pinto signed a contract with Walt Disney.

Next week, the conclusion; when the Jacksonville “Goof” becomes the world’s biggest Bozo. See you then.

Writer Bill Miller is the author of “History Snoopin’,”a collection of his previous history columns and stories. Reach him at newsmiller@live.com or WilliamMMiller.com.


12 January 2019

Does it ever snow in Texas?

Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) Trainees Play in the Snow


"Northerners tended to think that the Texas sun shines nearly 365 days a year, and even the brief fluttering of flakes on Christmas Eve hadn’t changed many minds—then came January 12, 1944.

There had been some occasional flakes over the prior weeks, and the ice and slush canceled all training flights. Because the roads were frozen and dangerous, even weekend passes into town were cancelled. Then, with icicles dangling precariously from the barracks, a major blizzard struck.





Five to seven inches of snow, blown into drifts two feet high, wouldn’t have bothered a Midwest farmer, but here in West Texas it was a rarity.


The severe conditions and cold temperatures threatened cattle and sheep on the range. The snow got the blame for the deaths of seven passengers in a nearby collision of two trains. At Avenger Field, trainees made the best of this bad situation with snowball attacks on flight instructors and occasionally on each other."





A couple of women rolled out a “snow-m’am” against a building, naming her Mae West. Trainees brought out their cameras and the two women happily snapped off winter portraits of the trainees joyfully posing with Mae. When a gas heating line broke one night, the trainees finally found a good use for those bulky winter flying suits. Coupled with layers of gym pants and long johns, the suits kept them toasty and comfortable all night long."


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Excerpt from:

History Snoopin': The Girls of Summer

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