What wonderful memories of my childhood this book brought back! I was 10, going on 11, when the Mickey Mouse Club first went on the air, and for a long time I don't think I missed a single episode.
I was one of the multitude of little boys who fell madly in love with Mouseketeer Annette Funicello, the "brunette goddess," as Jennifer Armstrong refers to her in one passage in the book. Apparently Annette -- or "Annie" as she was called by her friends -- was as kind and well-liked by her peers as she was adored by her pre-pubescent male admirers. But Armstrong points out something that I noticed myself when watching the MMC, all those many years ago, and which bothered me: Annette, as beautiful and charismatic as she was, was far from being the most talented Mouseketeer. That honor probably went to Darlene Gillespie -- less beautiful, although certainly pretty enough; blessed with a dynamite singing voice, a fine dancer, and a first-rate little actress. She had the drive, the elan, that Annette just didn't possess. But, Annette was Walt Disney's favorite Mouseketeer (he discovered her), and received the lion's share of the fan mail which came pouring in to the show. Thus, it was Annette who was targeted for bigger things -- including at least one acting role on the show that Darlene felt she deserved. That, and a couple of bad breaks that were just nobody's fault, apparently left Darlene with a lifelong hurt that she has never been able to assuage. Sad, for a kid who had so much to offer.
Then there was Lonnie Burr, who always contrived to have his pompadour of blond hair showing in front of his mouse ears, despite the efforts of the director to keep the male Mouseketeers looking like "little monks," as one Mouseketeer remembered many years later. And Tommy Cole, a super singer who was a little two-left-footed when it came to dancing. And Bobby Burgess, with his huge Pepsodent smile, and Sharon Baird, who could flat dance the hinges off a door together. I still remember seeing a segment mentioned in the book in which the Firehouse Five Plus Two, a jazz group, played for the Mouseketeers, and Bobby and Sharon did some of the best "old-fashioned rock 'n' roll dancing" I've ever seen.
And of course there was Jimmie Dodd, the genial, gentle Big Mouseketeer who was the adult chaperone, as it were, and songwriter and singer for the group. And the Big Mooseketeer, Roy Williams, a fat, jovial Disney animator whose talents with crayon and paper were often displayed on the show (and who apparently wasn't above letting fly with an "expletive deleted" or an off-color joke during rehearsals; of course, the kids loved that!)
Armstrong tells us how the show lasted only three years in its original format, with some Mouseketeers being dropped and new ones hired, right along. By 1958, the oldest (Bobby and Darlene) were 17 and were getting tired of their mouse ears and the T-shirts with their names on the front, and all the originals were wanting to move on into true teenhood. But the show never really went "off the air" for years, as re-runs and other treatments of the original material continued to be aired. There was a large segment of the American "kid" audience who loved the wearers of those ears, and who didn't want to give them up.
So, the originals became adults, with marriage, children, and their own careers. Bobby Burgess continued with his first love, dancing, for 11 years on the Lawrence Welk Show, and continues down to the present day with his own dance studio. Tim Considine and David Stollery of "Spin and Marty" fame became a writer and an automobile designer, respectively. Sharon Baird worked for many years playing costumed characters who danced on TV. Doreen Tracy pursued a show business career, including appearing twice, nude, in a men's magazine, much to the horror of the Disney organization. Carl "Cubby" O'Brien, who was a whiz-bang little drummer, made a career out of it with various bands. His partner "Little Mouseketeer," Karen Pendleton, who never felt she was very talented, sadly became a paraplegic in a 1983 traffic accident.
Darlene, with tremendous talent and drive but never able to get the right break (Annette was in the way for too much of her early years), allowed her bitterness over that to affect her whole life, culminating in her arrests for white-collar crimes as partner of her boyfriend and later husband, Jerry Fraschilla. She was sentenced in 1999 to two years in prison in a check-kiting scheme.
And Annette, who all her former Mouseketeers (except, probably, Darlene Gillespie) speak well of, developed multiple sclerosis in the late 1980s, and has been out of the public eye for most of the time since.
Armstrong's book is a quick read, but a very satisfying one, especially for those of us who remember the Mickey Mouse Club because we were there, in front of our TV sets, joining in to sing, "We are the Merry Mouseketeers, Mouseketeers! We've got a lot above our ears, above our ears! ..."