Tom and Dick Smothers – An Appreciation

December 29, 2023

Tom and Dick Smothers – An Appreciation
By Jennifer Warnes

When I was 20, I was singing nightly to the dinner crowd at a fancy French restaurant called Chez Cary in Orange, California. I shared the bill with the comedian Pat Paulsen, then still a house painter by day. He was a very funny guy, gaining fame for his dry, deadpan delivery. Tom and Dick Smothers had worked with Pat at the Hungry I nightclub and asked him to be the warm-up performer for their TV show, The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, on CBS.

That job was to get the live audience in the right mood for the show so that they’d be primed to laugh and applaud when the stars came out. Pat proved so popular that the brothers invited him to become a regular on the weekly program. Now they needed somebody else for the warm-up slot, and dear Pat recommended they try me for the job. That’s how my professional career in prime-time television began.

The Smothers Brothers liked me too, and after a well-received performance on their summer replacement show hosted by Glen Campbell, I became a regular on their show the next season. I was one of only two women in the troupe, along with comedienne Leigh French (“Share a Little Tea with Goldie”). I sang, did some comedy roles, and was thrown into the do-or-die zaniness of live television.

I was so new to this world, I didn’t realize the faith they had in me. They let me choose my own songs, arrangements, and costumes. I didn’t know how rare it was for a young girl with so little experience to have her opinions heard. I was surrounded by performers, writers, and crew who would become legendary, including Steve Martin, Rob Reiner, Alan Blye, John Hartford, Mason Williams, Lorenzo Music, Bob Einstein, Carl Gottlieb, Jim Stafford, Murray Roman, and the great Nelson Riddle conducting the orchestra. We shared a management team of Ken Kragen, Ken Fritz, and Cort Casady and did tours and shows together. The brothers helped their friends build successful, long careers. I was one of those lucky few.

I am naturally shy, but I’ve always been interested in comedy so to be hanging around such genuinely funny people was a dream come true. There was an attitude of boldness in this irreverent community led by Tom and Dick. This was, without a doubt, my “big break” as they say, my single, most important career opportunity that eventually led to a bigger, happier life.

But it was more than that, it was inspiration by example. Tom and Dick were rule-breakers and subtle radicals. They had a folksy, goofy, and squeaky-clean appearance, which probably convinced CBS of their commercial appeal, but little did the network executives realize what they were really unleashing to a national audience. The brothers skewered the conservative establishment, standing firmly against the Vietnam War. Despite their short hair and smart suits, they were definitely siding with a younger audience. When CBS tried to censor them, it sparked an epic battle over free speech. Tom and Dick held their ground, put up a noble fight, but were eventually taken off the air despite great ratings, a sad loss for variety television. Interestingly, CBS had to make significant payments to advertisers who had sponsored the show and were upset by its cancellation.

Best of all, we were friends. Tom was very generous with everyone he loved. When I totaled my mother’s ’54 Chevy, he loaned me his vintage yellow convertible MG roadster to drive around L.A. until I got new wheels. Unfortunately, I left it out in the rain one night, turning its gorgeous interior into a swimming pool. Tom never said a thing, he just smiled and took it back to the shop.

I talked to Tom recently and was overjoyed to hear that familiar, endearing spark in his voice again, that same renegade I knew. Those who we’re fortunate enough to find themselves in his creative family would go on and continue to dream large and reach for the sky, even if it seemed silly. Tom and Dick were all about personal freedom. I might still be singing at the French restaurant if it weren’t for them.

After CBS took them off the air, the Smothers Brothers went on the road, returning to their roots in stand-up comedy. They bought vineyards, made great wine, and raised big families. One summer, Tom asked me to look after his grandfather when he was on the road. When he got back, he invited me to spend the day on an interesting adventure. We hopped on his motorcycle and went off to visit some of his friends. That day I met counterculture writer Alan Watts, DJ Tom Donahue, and various renegades living in Northern California. He was once again sharing his world with me, cross-pollinating various types of thinkers, and encouraging me to keep an open mind.

I’d like to put up a statue somewhere of The Smothers Brothers, in Mill Valley or in wine country, or on top of the CBS building or maybe just in my mind. I want to say thank you for myself, and for the America, who gathered to laugh and be with you on Sunday nights. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.