Narrator
Life as Bill Shakespeare once said is like a bird-watcher. [pause]
Shakespearean
Actor
Forsooth my Winnie, life is like a man who doth
watch birds fluttereth in the sky. For, from whence he looked
on the ground, he saw nothing but distance. 'But', sayeth he,
'if I were nearer, then beauties of their plumage would be
nearer to mine eye,' and so clambered he up a tree.
He knowst he approaches his aim, but, as the top he
nears, the bird, the one he seeketh, it doth crappeth on
his skull,, in the distraction he falls to his death. And
so in life we never reacheth that we desire most, because,
my dear Pooh, the crap all ways falleth.
Narrator
Shakespeare
in that little known collaboration with A. A. Milne, 'Now We
Are Henry VI'.
There are so many example for whom 'the
crap all ways falleth', and none so dramatic as when they
are so near the top. One such person is Fred Flintstone,
a man who achieved nation-, nay, worldwide fame in the early
and mid-sixties, before departing to virtual obscurity.
This is his story.
Narrator
Fred Flintstone was born in early September 1939,
shortly before the outbreak of war in Europe, he protests against
any connection. The circumstances of his birth were as medically sound
as any birth can be, just everything else was unusual.
Fred
Flintsone
I was, so I found out later, the son of
Betty Boop, a fact I discovered on my twelfth birthday when
she sent a card to the orphanage where I had lived
since just after my birth, this revelation led to a slight
change of lifestyle, the posters above my bed of her had
to be removed, and replaced with those in more sedantry poses.
It was to be another 22 years before I found out
my father was Frank Sinatra, it turned out that Betty and
Frank had an affair before he hit the big-time, while he
still sang in small clubs... she never told him about me,
and I never mentioned it, but I guess he'll never know
[slight laugh]... Betty, I never could call he 'mother',
was out of the public eye for near enough a year,
her explanation was she needed to 'compose herself', her career never
really returned to full steam... Some of the tabloids reported she
had become a mother, but that was feverently denied by all
concerned, and soon the rumours became little more than murmurs... So
for my first dozen years I lived in St Michael's Orphanage,
I wouldn't say it was perfect, but I was more than
happy. The nurses that ran it, they gave as much love
as they could, but it was such a shame that the
money just was so scarce... But Christmas, now that was the
best, the local people always donated presents for us, and some
would help cook a big meal, and everyone ate and played,
it was happy... Then I was adopted...
Narrator
Adoption was
the last thing Fred needed, after twelve and a half years
in one place he felt settled, felt he could relate, he
was a normal everyday kid, he was happy. John and Margaret
Flintstone adopteed Fred Smith, as he then was, on March 17th
1952. Sadly John died of lung cancer in late 1976. Margaret
tells what she remembers of her adopted son.
Margaret Flintstone
Fred, Fred, Fred... what a strange child he was, I don't
think he ever really liked me or John, he just felt
we spoilt his life by taking him from the orphanage. I
suppose he may have still have been coming to terms with
finding out about his mother, a fact that the adopting people
didn't tell us... he just needed some kind of stability, some
familiarity. With hindsight, he should have been left there a bit
longer, too many changes like that... it didn't help him... But
then again, I don't think me and John were bad parents,
not bad enough to force him to run-away like he did...
otherwise why would he have come back...
Narrator
And come
back he did, five times he ran away, and five times
he returned. That's run-away, return; run-away, return; five times, not run-away,
run-away, run-away, run-away, run-away, return, return, return, return, return, because that
would just be stupid... I asked him if he remembered why
he ran...
Fred
It's just one of those things... like
you know there was a good reason at the time, you
know you were sensible enough for that, but the actual specifics,
they just escape you... I think one was to do with
a bad report-card, another to do with staying out late, another
claiming my mother was a famous cartoon star... just the usual
stuff, nothing really bad... But the thing is I never really
loved my adoptive parents, I may have liked them, sometimes even
respected them, but there was no real affection, no love, that
was why we drifted apart.
Narrator
Everything changed in early
1955, a new teacher arrived at his school, Michael O'Neil. Fred
said Michael changed his whole life.
Fred
Michael changed my
whole life.
Narrator
Can you describe him?
Fred
Michael
O'Neil, the man was like a God to me, he was
this big six foot guy, heavy-set, but as friendly as can
be, he had a thick Irish accent, the kids always imitated
him, some where quite good, but they never did it in
his class. Not that they were frightened of him, though some
where, more because they were in awe, he was a fine
actor, we could all see that, and when he taught drama
it took on a life of it's own, I mean to
see him portray MacBeth, it was like being there, I could
have been in Inverness...
Narrator
That's Inverness, Scotland, and he
wasn't there, no, he was in America [almost singing] the land
of the free, and the home of the brave.
[cough]
Did
you feel that, at that time, you would go on to
stardom, become famous, small boy made good, live the American dream?
Fred
It's something you always hoped would happen, but no,
I never thought I'd be a star, I always wanted it,
but never expected it. Michael inspired me, taught me to believe
in myself, he believed in me, hee told me I had
a talent, and I should use it. That was why, when
I left school I tried my hand at stand up comedy.
Narrator
In August 1959, after a hard day producing, Jospeh
Hanna and William Barbera decided to go out for a drink,
they turned up at a comedy club, not a frequent haunt
for them, but one they will never regret.
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Page last updated on 12th November 1998
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