Bright & Early

The phone rang in NBC's Washington studio just as Correspondent Ray Scherer wrapped up a Today show interview with Ambassador-at-Large Averell Harriman. Scherer picked it up only to catch an earful of criticism. "You didn't look as good as he did," the caller complained. "The lighting on you wasn't good." Scherer's critic was neither his wife nor Today's New York producer --it was Lyndon Johnson.

The White House is just one of 2000,000 U.S. homes that cannot start the day without Today (7-9 a.m. local time, Monday through Friday). The President watches the program from his bed, turning the volume up during the Washington sequences. Across town, 70% of the Congress and most Cabinet members are regular viewers. Secretary of State Rusk has gone so far as to position his bedroom TV so that he can see Today in his shaving mirror. Beyond the Potomac, Atlanta Constitution Publisher and Syndicated Columnist Ralph McGill watches "with great frequency." TV Chef Julia Child does her morning calisthenics by it. On the West Coast, Danny Kaye and Pat Brown are fans. In Manhattan, Today is one of the two programs (the other: the Huntley-Brinkley Report) that RCA Boss David Sarnoff watches regularly, and even William Paley, board chairman of rival CBS, is said to find Today irresistible.

Missiles & Muggs. After 15 years on the air, Today still commands a caliber of audience that keeps guests and advertisers waiting in line for exposure. Commercial time is almost sold out, at $7,000 a network minute, for 1967; and last week's visitors ranged from Hubert Humphrey to Helen Hayes, Bobby Kennedy to Cassius Clay. Today was the platform that Adlai Stevenson chose to rebut the Saturday Evening Post's article depicting him as a craven dove during the 1962 Cuban missile crisis. It was the launching pad for Nelson Rockefeller's 1964 campaign for the Republican presidential nomination, the forum from which Japanese Premier Hayato Ikeda apologized to the U.S. for the 1964 stabbing of Ambassador Edwin Reischauer, the program on which Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower spent the morning of their 50th anniversary.

Today's successful formula combines a feeling for the news with a concern for culture and tries, like a daily newsmagazine, to encompass all human activity. The show did not shake down overnight, though, as film clips from a nostalgic anniversary program last week made embarrassingly evident. For the first nine years, Dave Garroway was host, or rather referee. Engineers, visible from behind the anchor desks, used to wave to their wives; J. Fred Muggs, the rubber-pantsed chimp, ran amuck on daily cue; publicists seemed to own the show, particularly if they were pushing gimmicky toys or beauty queens. Then Newsman John Chancellor (now director of the Voice of America) took over in a 14-month interregnum that tautened the ship and sobered the crew.

Unexpected Humor. Currently on deck are the show's third host, the unflappable and civilized Hugh Downs, and Today's 31st woman panelist, Barbara Walters. Backing them up are the show's newscaster for 14 years, Frank Blair; Judith Crist, the acidulous film critic for Manhattan's World Journal Tribune; and ex-Ballplayer Joe Garagiola, a droll man-about-the-locker room. Also on tap are the NBC news force and a special 14-writer staff, which help Today prepare four newscasts and a daily 8:09 "Viet Nam Report," as well as a series of vest-pocket documentaries (air pollution, mental retardation, black power and the John Birch Society).

Interviews with political figures often produce news as well as information. Sometimes they even produce unexpected humor. A few years ago, Oregon's Wayne Morse appeared on the show with Newsman Martin Agronsky. Before they went on the air, Agronsky told Morse that he would tap the Senator on the knee when his time was up. Twice during the interview, Agronsky gave Morse the warning, but Morse kept talking. Finally, Agronsky kicked the Senator in the ankle. Morse turned to him and said: "No use your kicking me, Martin. I'm going to finish what I started to say."

Despite Today's enterprise, the program does suffer at times from somnolence (perhaps because the regulars must be at the studio by 6 a.m.), from an occasional overdose of promotions for other NBC shows, and from a failure to move fast enough on some news features. Considering, though, that Today fills 520 hours a year on an annual budget ($3,000,000) that is less than the network spends on Man from U.N.C.L.E., Producer Al Morgan is justified in saying: "I think we do pretty well about four days a week."

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