"Lucy?" "Yeah." "What about my lunch?" "Oh, yeah." "Right away, dear." "I was getting Little Ricky ready for his recital." "He looks so cute." "Good." "Oh, I'm so nervous." "Imagine our son playing drums in public for the first time." "Yeah, it's quite an occasion all right." "Oh, it sure is." "Hmm." "Well?" "Well what?" "What about my lunch?" "Oh, yes, honey." "I got a nice sandwich for you all ready in the refrigerator." "That's funny." "Lucy..." "What?" "The refrigerator is that big, white thing back there." "Oh, sure." "What's the matter with me?" "Here it is." "There you are, dear." "Thank you." "And I have some hot coffee here." "Here we are." "Oh, gee, isn't this exciting?" "Mm-hmm." "Mmm!" "What's the matter?" "What's the matter?" "Oh, honey, it's too hot." "Oh, I'm sorry." "Well, look, we'll just do this." "This is what my mother used to do." "There we are." "That'll cool it off." "There you are, dear." "It's cooler all right," "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." "There you are, dear." "Mmm, honey, it's still too hot." "Maybe an ice cube will help, huh?" "An ice cube, an ice cube, an ice cube." "Yeah." "Okay, dear." "Here we are." "There's an ice cube for you." "That's a very good idea." "Lucy..." "Yeah?" "Do you always put the ice cubes in the oven?" "Oh, no." "Not always, dear." "No." "Honey, calm down." "Why are you so nervous?" "Oh, honey, I can't help it." "I just can't help it." "He's such a baby." "Do you think we're rushing him?" "Aw, now, honey, it's just a little recital at his music school." "I know, I know, but this is such a big moment in my child's life." "I'm just nervous about it." "That's all." "What's with you?" "It's your child, too." "How come you're so calm?" "Well, what is there to be uncalm about?" "Nothing to worry." "At the recital, he'll be great." "Now, uh, are you ready?" "Yeah, I'm all ready." "Is Little Ricky ready?" "Yeah, he's ready." "How about you?" "I've been ready for hours." "Come on, let's go." "Oh, honey, look at you." "Not nervous, huh?" "Well, I guess so." "Yeah, I guess you are." "I'll call the Mertzes and see if they're ready." "Hi, Lucy." "Hi." "Have you seen Ethel?" "I can't find my green tie." "No." "She hasn't been here." "Well, I'll be ready in a minute." "Yeah, hurry up." "Lucy, have you seen Fred?" "I was taking the spot off his tie." "I can't find him anywhere." "He was just here looking for you." "Oh, thanks." "Are you sure Ethel isn't over here?" "She was just here looking for you." "Well, I'll find her." "Lucy, he isn't over there." "Over there." "Where have you been?" "!" "I've been looking all over for you." "How do you like that?" "For the first time in 20 years, we've been trying to find each other." "Get your tie on." "Let's go." "Yeah, hi." "Let's get going." "All right." "We're all ready, dear." "Oh, I'm as nervous as a cat." "Me, too." "I was so nervous, I couldn't eat my breakfast." "And, believe me, for Ethel, that's nervous." "Oh, look who's talking." "He was so nervous, he got dressed first and then took a shower." "Ethel, have we no family secrets?" "Why is everybody so jittery?" "Yeah, what's the matter with us?" "It's silly to be this way." "'Course, the kid has been taking drum lessons for a month and we know he's good." "Good?" "Why, he's wonderful." "That kid's dynamite." "That's right." "So what do we have to worry about?" "Yeah, why worry about it?" "Honey, do you really think he's good?" "Now, look, Lucy," "I have complete confidence in the boy." "It just so happens that he has inherited his father's musical ability." "Yeah, but is he good?" "Look, didn't Mr. Crawford said that he was the best drummer in the school?" "Uh-huh." "Well, there you are." "'Course he's the only drummer in the school." "Now, honey, don't worry..." "Hi, Uncle Fred." "Hi, Aunt Ethel." "Oh, hi!" "There he is." "Well, now, how do you feel, honey?" "Fine, Mommy." "Look how calm he is." "Sure." "Perfectly relaxed." "That's kids for you." "You're not nervous, are you, honey?" "No." "Yeah, he's not a bit nervous." "We knew you wouldn't be." "Mommy..." "What, honey?" "what's nervous?" "Nervous?" "Well, that's, uh, when you get stage fright, like when you're playing drums in front of strangers!" "Oh, go get your coat on, honey." "Yeah, get your coat." "We'll get our hats and coats, honey." "We'll be right back." "We can help you with the drums." "Okay." "What's the matter with you?" "Oh, honey, I didn't mean to say anything in front of him." "I didn't want to put ideas in his head, but I just didn't think..." "Well, maybe it didn't register, but just, you know, if we're calm, then he'll be calm now." "Yeah." "Just you and I don't..." "It's kind of hard to be calm." "Well, just you and I don't get nervous" "Okay." "and then the kid will be all right." "If we don't get all upset..." "I just didn't think that..." "Come on now, we don't want to be late." "You're not nervous, are you, Rick?" "No, not nervous." "Well, the two coats were there, and then we were talking." "I didn't... didn't see what I was doing." "Let's go." "Let's get this..." "Everybody grab something." "All right." "Let's go." "I can carry this." "Okay." "Now..." "Have we got everything?" "I think so." "Sorry, dear." "I got the bass drum." "Here's the snares." "I got the cymbal." "I got the tom-tom." "Okay, we've got everything." "Let's go." "All right, here we go." "Thank you." "Thank you, Laurie Blaine." "That was very nice, Laurie." "That was really very nice." "Now, Diana Van Fossen will favor us with a selection on the violin." "Diana." "That's my little girl." "Oh, she's very sweet." "She's very good." "Thank you." "Oh, that was Diana Van Fossen." "Oh, say, Diana..." "Aw, say, that was nice." "Now, as a, as a finale for our little recital here, our own little six-piece band is going to play" ""Has Anybody Seen My Gal?"" "Well, well, first, on bass, Buddy Noble." "Buddy, Buddy, come in." "Bass." "Ukelele, Earl Robie." "Come in, Earl." "And trumpet, Robert Norman." "Come in, Robert." "And trombone, Jeff Woodruff." "Hello, Jeff." "And accordion, Larry Gleason." "Come, Larry." "Come on, Larry." "And on drums, Ricky Ricardo, Jr." "Yeah!" "And on drums, Ricky Ricardo, Jr." "No, no!" "No, no, no, no, no!" "Mom-mom-..." "What..." "What's the matter, honey?" "Mommy, Mommy..." "What's the matter?" "What's the matter?" "I'm nervous, Mommy." "I got stage fright." "I told you..." "He's got stage fright." "Oh, he's sorry." "He's got stage fright." "It's all right." "Look, Ricky." "It's all right, Ricky." "Lucy." "What?" "What are you doing?" "Well, his drums have been in the closet for three whole days." "He hasn't even gone near them." "I thought maybe if I put them out in plain sight..." "I thought we agreed not to force him to play." "Who's forcing him?" "I'm just going to use the power of suggestion." "If he sees the drums out here, he may want to play them, that's all." "All right, but I don't want to make him play." "I want it to be his own idea." "Oh, honey." "Now you know I won't make him do anything he didn't want to do." "I won't say a word." "The drums will be out here." "If he wants to play them, fine." "Okay." "I gotta go get finish dressing." "I gotta get out of here." "All right, honey." "Hi." "You want to go to the grocery store with me?" "I can in about half an hour." "Oh, Lucy, Little Ricky's playing his drums again." "No, no, no, honey, this is just my idea." "I thought if I put them out, maybe I'd put the idea in his head." "Oh." "Gee, I sure hope it works." "Oh, me, too." "Call me when you're ready to go to the store." "Okay, dear." "Maybe I can get a little dusting done." "Okay." "Now, Lucy... you'll be glad to know that I'm going to fix that loose railing on the back porch." "Well, what's the rush?" "We only reported it five years and three delivery boys ago." "Very, very funny." "Hey, is my godson coming out of retirement?" "No, your godson isn't coming out of retirement." "I'm just putting the drums out here." "If he wants to play them, he can." "Now, listen, mother hen, don't peck at me because you're upset about your baby chick." "Little Ricky." "Yes." "Hi." "What you doing, honey?" "Just playing." "Oh." "Oh, boy!" "That's what I've been wanting to play with!" "It is?" "Yeah." "My crayons." "Your crayons." "By George, somebody put your drums out here!" "They look kind of lonely." "I bet they wish somebody would play them." "Well, if nobody wants to play them, I think I will." "I'm playing your drums." "Oh, Little Ricky, come back here." "Look at the fun I'm having." "Da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da" "Bum, bum, bum, bum bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, da, da..." "Little Ricky!" "I knew it!" "I knew it!" "Honey, you were right...!" "Back to your chores, fellow loved ones." "I goofed." "Didn't anything happen?" "Well, nothing, except I may put out an album called Music To Color By." "Do you really think so, Mr. Crawford?" "Ooh, absolutely." "Stage fright is just like falling off a horse." "If you don't get right back on, you'll never ride again." "Is that so?" "Yes, and I want you to know, Mrs. Ricardo," "I'm every bit as concerned about your boy as you and Mr. Ricardo are." "Well, thank you, Mr. Crawford." "We certainly appreciate that, and thanks for the advice." "I'll..." "I'll talk to my husband when he comes in." "Ah, good-bye." "Good-bye, Mr. Crawford." "What does he want to talk to me about, honey?" "Little Ricky's got to get right back on his horse." "What?" "!" "When you fall off a horse, you've got to get right back on." "Little Ricky fell off a horse?" "What was he doing on a horse?" "Oh, relax, honey, he didn't really fall off a horse." "Oh." "Why did you say so?" "Mr. Crawford was just using a figure of speech." "He meant that if we wanted to help Little Ricky get over his stage fright, we wanted to make sure that he played in public again as soon as possible." "Oh." "Well, that's the way he got frightened in the first place." "That's just the point." "This is now the cure." "Well, I don't know, honey." "I think we're making too much of this." "Maybe the kid just doesn't want to play the drums." "Look, whether he wants to play the drums or not is no longer important." "The big thing now is his fear." "Being afraid to play at the recital was only the beginning." "From here on, he could develop a fear of all sorts of things." "He might be afraid to go to school." "He might be afraid to meet people, appear in public." "Why, if we don't conquer this right now, it could ruin his whole life." "Well, that makes a lot of sense." "Boy, I'm sure glad that you're the mother of my child." "Well, thank you, dear." "When I think of all those other women" "I might have married..." "Yeah, you sure were lucky." "All what other women?" "Uh..." "like you say, we have enough problems already." "Yeah." "We'll just talk about that later." "Right now the important thing is finding a place for Little Ricky to play in public as soon as possible." "All right." "What do you suggest?" "Well, I was thinking... why can't Little Ricky and his band play at your club one night?" "Lucy... what's come over you?" "Bad idea, huh?" "No." "Good idea." "What's come over you?" "Well, I don't know." "I guess I just make a mistake now and then." "I think it's a wonderful idea." "You do?" "Oh, sure." "It's probably just what he needs to snap him out of this mood that he's in." "Uh-huh." "And I bet you that the audience will love it." "Well, honey, I'm so happy you like my suggestion." "Yes, baby." "Close your eyes, Ethel." "I don't want you to get any wild ideas." "Hi." "Hi." "We bought Little Ricky a present." "Oh, how cute." "A little teddy bear that plays the drum." "We figured he might take the hint." "That cost 49 cents, but in a case like this, money is no object." "Well, gee, it's a wonderful idea and thanks a lot, but I think we've got the problem all settled." "You have?" "Yeah." "Yeah, we're gonna have" "Little Ricky and his band play at the Club Babalu one night." "You are?" "!" "Yeah." "We decided that if he's not going to go through life being afraid, he has... he just has to play the drums again." "Right away." "Oh, of course!" "Oh, boy, I'm glad it's all settled." "Wait a minute." "Is it all settled?" "If we can't get him to play here in the living room, how are we going to get him to play at the club?" "Hey, that's right." "If we could get him to play at the club, we wouldn't have to get him to play at the club." "That makes sense." "Or does it?" "Of course it does." "The trick is how to get Little Ricky to do it." "Oh." "One of us will just have to go in there and talk him into it." "Okay." "Well?" "Well?" "You're his father." "You're his mother." "Well, now that we got it straight who his parents are, which one is going in there and talk to him?" "Why don't you?" "Me?" "Yeah." "Why not?" "You're his godfather." "Well, you're his godmother." "Well, now that we got it straight who his godparents are, which one of you is going to go in there and talk to him?" "Go ahead, Ethel." "Me?" "Yeah, go ahead, Ethel." "All right, I will." "I'll use reverse psychology on him." "That always works with children." "Mm-hmm." "Well?" "What happened?" "Did your reverse psychology work?" "Not exactly." "I said, "Little Ricky, you don't want to play those nasty old drums, do you?"" "And he said, "No."" "Oh, my." "Well, now what will we do?" "All right, all right." "You can talk him out of his stage fright." "If anybody can talk anybody into doing anything, it's Lucy." "Yeah, she's good at that sort of thing." "Sure." "Next." "What's the matter?" "Can't you talk him into it?" "I got stage fright." "Oh, no." "Well, I guess that leaves you and me, Fred." "It leaves you." "I'm chicken." "Very well." "Hi, pardner." "Hi, Daddy." "I brought a surprise for you." "It's a present from Uncle Fred and Aunt Ethel." "Thank you." "You're welcome." "Um..." "What do you say we have a little talk, huh?" "Okay." "You know, when I was a little boy your age," "I used to love to go down to my daddy's office and visit him, but I don't have an office." "I work in a nightclub." "The Babalu?" "That's right." "How'd you like to come to the Babalu and visit me?" "I'd like that, Daddy." "Okay." "And, uh, would you like to bring your drums with you and your little band and play there?" "Will you be there, Daddy?" "I sure will." "Will other people be there?" "Yeah." "I'll stay home." "You'll stay home, huh?" "Why?" "Are you afraid?" "Well, now, you come over here, pardner." "You know, I want to tell you something." "It's all right to be afraid." "You know, when I play in front of people, I'm afraid, too." "I don't know whether they're going to like me or whether they're going to laugh at me or what." "Is that the way you feel?" "Yes, Daddy." "But... the minute I start playing, the minute that I hear the music," "I'm not afraid anymore." "I'll show you what I mean." "You see our little friend here?" "Look at that." "He's so scared, he can't even move." "Now, let's pretend that he's gonna play at the club, see?" "And let's pretend that all these are the people in the audience and they're all sitting around and they're gonna watch him play the drums, see?" "Now, let's see what happens to him, okay?" "Look at him go, see?" "He's not afraid anymore." "And look at them." "They're not laughing at him." "They like him." "And if they like him, they'll like you a lot more, because you're a much better drummer than he is." "So, uh... what do you say, pardner?" "Okay, pardner." "Good boy." "There you are, Robert." "Oh, Robert looks great, doesn't he?" "There you are, honey." "Okay." "There you are." "Oh, hi." "Everybody here, Mr. Crawford?" "Everybody but Earl Robie, the ukelele player." "Well, you'd better call the house and find out if he's left." "Well, that's a good idea." "Yeah." "Listen, kids, you want to peek at the audience through the curtains?" "Yeah." "Yeah." "Peek at the audience, that's lots of fun." "Get your instruments." "We might as well put them on the bandstand, huh?" "Well, listen, honey, will you bring him right back?" "Want to go, Ricky?" "Sure, I'll bring him right back." "Because I haven't finished dressing him yet." "Okay." "I'll bring him right back." "You come right back now, darling." "Just let him take a peek." "Okay." "Oh, don't they look cute?" "I'll say." "Yes, yes." "Oh, boy, I hope this idea works." "Me, too." "My stomach's so full of butterflies," "I could start a collection." "Honey, now, whatever you do, don't say anything about being nervous in front of Little Ricky." "Oh, no, now, Fred, don't even mention the word "scared"" "or "stage fright" now." "Okay, okay." "Be sure." "Don't forget now." "Okay, son." "Hey, uh..." "Get him ready right away, Mom." "I'm starting the show right now." "All right, honey, we will." "Well, did you see all the nice people?" "I'll say." "How do you feel, honey?" "Fine, Mommy." "Attaboy." "You're not the least bit ner..." "What are you trying to do, scare..." "Watch yourselves." "You're going to give Little Ricky sta...ay as sweet as you are, dear." "Oh, dear!" "What's the matter?" "Of all things." "What?" "Earl Robie can't be here." "He has the measles." "Oh, for heaven's sake." "No ukelele player." "And they've rehearsed for six, and now they've only got five." "I don't know how it'll sound." "It will just blow the whole thing wide open." "Mr. Crawford..." "Oh, oh, this is the most terrible thing that could have happened to us." "Mr. Crawford..." "Oh, what a cata..." "No, ukelele!" "Mr. Crawford..." "Yes, but I told Mr. Ricardo that I..." "I'm so nervous." "Mr. Crawford." "Here, honey." "Put your hat on, sweetheart." "Here we go." "We're all ready now." "Mommy..." "Yes, dear?" "I don't want to play without a ukelele." "Oh, now, honey, don't worry about a thing." "Everything is going to be just fine." "Here are your drumsticks." "But I don't want to play without a ukelele." "Now, look, honey..." "Honey, look, I promise you..." "I promise you, you'll have a ukelele player." "Do you hear?" "Fred, get a message to Ricky." "Tell him the band will play as scheduled." "All right, all right." "Look, fix his coat." "Okay, I'll fix his coat." "I'll button up your coat." "And you go out there and just be great and play your drums." "Thank you." "Thank you very much." "Thank you." "Thank you very much." "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a-a-a wonderful new attraction for you here at the Club Babalu and I am indeed very proud to present to you" "Ricky Ricardo, Jr." "and his Dixieland Band." "Hey!" "Let's go!" "Hey, hey, hey!" "Yeah!" "Hey, hey!" "Let's get it on!" "Okay, pardner?" "You bet!" "Well, uh, you were wonderful!" "You sure were."