Rubber Chicken Research Results are here! I asked for help from readers of this column in explaining the history of these latex fowl and why they are funny. The winning response - a humdinger - is from John S. Pitt of Bountiful, Utah, who sent me the following letter:
Dear Robert Fulghum:For many years, I felt completely alone in my quest to understand the mysterious appeal of the rubber chicken. Imagine my joy as I read your column of Jan. 8, 1995, and learned that you, too, are searching for the source of mankind's universally humorous reaction to the dumbest of all dime store novelties.
I have done extensive research on rubber chickens for inclusion in my long-overdue doctoral thesis: "The Effect of Molded Latex Models of Domestic Fowl on the Emotional Well Being of Middle-Aged Middle-Class Men."
My research has been informative but is not yet conclusive.
The first artificial chickens were made of wood and were used by peasants in 16th-century Europe to lure living chickens off the estates of the ruling class. The serfs would then lighten the burden of their miserable existence by performing silly antics with the decoy chickens, while eating the real game they had stolen.
Decoy chickens soon became a mainstay for medieval stand-up comics performing in the bawdy clubs of the underclass. It took more than 300 years, however, for fake fowl to gain widespread acceptance with Europe's theatrical elite. In 1892, the famed Salzburg Marionette Theater was scheduled to perform "Swan Lake" to a sellout audience. A fire broke out in the prop room and (sprinkling systems not being what they are today) the swan puppets were all destroyed. The stage manager improvised with some hastily borrowed decoy chickens, and the rest is game-hen history. The sight of dancing decoy chickens in tutus forced guffaws from even the stodgiest Austrian nobleman.
In America, the slapstick style of Vaudevillian theater created the need for a more durable stage hen than the wooden European model. In 1911, the first rubber chicken was hatched at Plucky's Playhouse in Newark. The Vaudeville Era became known as the Golden Age of the Rubber Chicken. By 1918, there were more than two dozen rubber-chicken factories in New Jersey alone. This would prove to be the rubber chicken's high point.
Commercial radio arrived on the scene in 1920, and soon rubber chickens were cast aside like so many leaky hot water bottles. A few brave souls tried to perform rubber-chicken jokes over the airwaves. They figured if Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy could make it on the radio, why not a few rubber-chicken slingers? They soon learned, however, that there is nothing funny about the sound of a rubber chicken.
Fortunately, television lifted the head of the rubber chicken off the chopping block. Early TV comedians, like Soupy Sales (whose very name evokes a longing for chickens), taught Americans to laugh once more at the sight of a rubber Rhode Island Red.
Today's rubber chickens are experiencing a renaissance. While not as popular as they once were, they are again regarded in the same comedy class as flying cream pies, big-nosed Groucho glasses and falling grand pianos.
And why are these things funny? If I knew that, I'd have finished my thesis long ago.
- John S. Pitt, Bountiful, Utah
For his deep contribution to the history of the flexible fowl, we have invited Semi-Dr. Pitt to join our Council of Column Advisers. In addition, he will receive this column's first Award of Merit - a full-scale chocolate rubber chicken, manufactured in New York by the Fifth Avenue Choclatiere.
I suppose you want to know if Semi-Dr. Pitt's information is factually correct. Recall: I wrote that information provided could either be true or contrived. This column is bound by the standard for truth set by the Congress of the United States: If the information sounds plausible, you want to believe it and you can sell it to your constituents, it's true.
I have personally talked with Semi-Dr. Pitt on the telephone and learned that he received his training in fact-finding while spending six years in Washington, D.C., producing television programs for the United States Senate.
Our thanks to Semi-Dr. Pitt for semi-enlightenment.