"What's My Line?": Falling Hook, LINE, & Sinker

It's the perennial conversation starter that has plagued every ho-hum party from time immemorial; "If you could invite any four people (living or dead) to dinner, who would they be, and why?"  The number of guests varies from time to time, but the answers rarely stray very far from the usual dead relatives, to the pedestrian political figures, to Jesus, himself.

I would hate for my supper to be the "last supper."
(Source)

If it were up to Mr. Tiny, every one of his hypothetical dinner guests could be found in one place - a CBS studio in New York City on any given Sunday evening from 1950 to 1967.  Representing theater, publishing, journalism, and the brilliance and wit of a bygone era, the host and panel of What's My Line? would provide endless hours of sparkling dinner conversation and droll anecdotes of the most clever variety.

Guest Panelist: Groucho Marx

Mystery Challenger: Claudette Colbert

If you don't have time to watch the full episode, the premise is simple - a contestant with unusual or spectacular employment comes before celebrity panelists who take turns asking revealing questions (that can only be answered in the affirmative or negative) in hopes of discovering the contestant's true "line" of work.  Every "No" answer warrants a card being flipped by the show's emcee/moderator (and the first guest at my party), John Daly, indicating a five-dollar increase in the contestant's cash prize.  Ten "No" answers stumps the panel and the contestant walks away with fifty dollars; please refrain from judging the measly prize by Who Wants to be a Millionaire? standards.

The panel tries to guess the profession of a Nudist Camp Operator

By far, the best (and my most favorite) segment of the show is when the panel, comprised of the remainder of my dinner companions, Arlene Francis, Dorothy Kilgallen, Bennet Cerf, and a special guest panelist (there's always room at my table for one more, especially when that "plus one" is Steve Allen) must blindfold themselves to hide the easily-recognizable face of the "Mystery Challenger," whose identity they must uncover by the same process of yes-or-no questioning.  It is without much debate that the award for best mystery challenger goes to that incomparable little-dynamo, Debbie Reynolds.

Mystery Challenger: Debbie Reynolds

Mystery Challenger: Salvador Dali

Mystery Challenger: Maureen O'Hara
Because it's Maureen O'Hara!!!

Mystery Challengers: Lucille Ball & Desi Arnaz

I have always had a love affair with the small screen, particularly comedies, but I am not sure that a scripted show has ever made me laugh as hard and as consistently as What's My Line?.  I love the decorous protocol - the gracious introductions, the gallantry of the men standing for every guest while the women remain seated, the supreme lack of vulgarity.  I love the oft-decorated blindfolds and the ladylike primping in which the women engage every time the blindfolds are removed.  I love the glamour with which they perform such a silly task - finding out what people do for a living/figuring out which celebrity has come to town to plug a film/book/television show.  All the while, the show maintains a candor and brightness that makes it absolutely hysterical.  Despite the lighthearted nature of the program, there was plenty of backstage intrigue (see: Dorothy's entire life, Arlene's eye patch/arm sling/accidental death settlement, etc.).  They didn't save it all for "real life," however, there were plenty of wacky tacky moments on camera as well.

Dorothy was "sneezing"....right...

If you haven't seen much of What's My Line? before, I encourage you to do so with fair warning; it is easy to lose much of your life getting lost in the champagne cocktail of witty discourse and scintillating celebrity.  I admit to having committed countless, and entirely irretrievable, hours to this very conceit.

Now that's my kind of dinner party!
Arlene, Bennet, Dorothy, and John
(Source)

But let's be honest, if I was limited to only one dinner guest,
the only spot at my table would be reserved for the inimitable
Arlene Francis.  It is all about Arlene!!!
(Source)

Aside from inviting The Man Upstairs, I have become aware that I could not have chosen a more intimidating roster of dinner guests.  For those so well accustomed to the niceties and refinements of cafe society, I'm afraid that they would find my Pineapple Upside Down Meatloaf a trifle "provincial," shall we say.  And dang it all if I wasn't going to serve a provincial trifle for the dessert course!!!  Now is the time when I realize that my neuroses are so severe that I am willing to launch into a full-blown panic attack over are my theoretical dinner party.

I guess that this is the point in our show when it must be asked, if you were the host/ess of your dream dinner party, with whom would you choose to share your best meatloaf and/or casserole?  Also, what is your favorite of all the classic game shows?  Let us know!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny