Dear Diary,
Bob and Bing really hit the road on the Lux Radio Theatre tonight. If you were listening for the plot, you might have recognized “Road to Morocco,” but the jokes (and I use the word freely) were completely different in most cases. After the play was over, Ginny Simms asked who usually won the golf matches they play together. In unison, Bing and Bob said, “It’s a lie!” Bing said, “How did you know what I was going to say?” Bob said, “I just figured you were going to tell the truth.” Ginny said, “Bob, Bing really lovers to play golf, doesn’t he?” Bob replied, “He ought to. He raises his own caddies. He’s stork mad, that boy.”
Dear Diary,
When Cecil B. DeMille started to announce next week’s play on his show tonight he said, “The telegram will explain it better than I can.” The telegram read like this: “We appreciate your invitation to the clambake next week. Due to the fuel shortage, please send camel to pick us up on the road to Paramount.” To hear the audience sigh and applaud, you’d know that C.B. didn’t need to say another word. But when he did say, “Signed, Bing Crosby and Bob Hope,” the whole audience broke loose. Naturally, the play will be “Road to Morocco.” The one hitch is that Ginny Simms will take Dorothy Lamour’s place. At that point the audience groaned a little.
Dear Diary,
I heard about as wonderful a radio program tonight as I ever hope to hear, and I’m not saying that just because Bob Hope was the master of ceremonies. A whole hour, from 10:00 to 11:00 was packed with the best entertainment to be had, and the spirit of the show was as inspiring as the performers. To mention just a few of the stars, there was Bing Crosby, Red Skelton, Jack Benny and Fred Allen (singing “Friendship” together), Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, Ginny Simms, Dina Shore, and too many others to mention. After the last thing on the program, a serious and truly inspiring speech, beautifully delivered by Bob Hope, I’m not in the least ashamed to say there were tears in my eyes, and it wasn’t a cold that made me take out a handkerchief.
Muriel Windham's Diary 