I was lucky enough to grow up in New Jersey when Soupy Sales, who died yesterday at 83,  was in his heyday. Us high-schoolers rushed home for his antics every day at 4, Saturday as I remember at 6:30 (Saturdays were when the big stars showed up to be pied.)

I loved when he tuned in the radio on the windows sill with the puppet Pookie. It was a pop culture explosion– bits of teen hits of the day, followed by old time radio like The Shadow, The Hindenburg, and audio skits recorded for the radio bit, etc.

The song, “Do the Mouse”  was hilarious, as was the dance, which it was supposed to be– defining “irony” as a form of humor where bad equals good… or something.

When he returned from his suspension (for asking the kiddies to go through their New Year’s Eve hung-over parents clothes for pictures of George Washington) he blasted “Happy Days are Here Again” and showed film of silent movie pie fights, car crashes, etc. for almost five minutes before walking on set.

I did attend his big Soupy Sales Easter show at the Paramount Theater which featured The Hollies, Little Richard (and his guitar player, Jimi Hendrix), and as they say, many others.

Almost every TV show he did– five days a week– was outlined, but not scripted. And for all the hub-bub, he was only on in New York for two years.

But I think his kind of show– outlined, live, adlibbed, supposedly for kiddies, but really for teens who wanted to be treated like adults– was the exit point for the afternoon kiddy show and the entry point for things like SNL and “Fridays”– on the air barely ten years later. Letterman and Conan followed.

Just more proof that creativity is a continuum. Thanks, Soupy.