"Look up in the sky! It's a bird! A plane! It's Superman!"
It was the early 1940s; World War II was almost over, and radio dominated the living rooms of America.
In the mornings we ate Breakfast with Dorothy and Dick, as they discussed the upcoming day; and at noon, dropped in for Luncheon at Sardi's, where actors came by to boast about Broadway hits.
In the afternoons housewives took a break to commiserate with Stella Dallas, or cheer the triumphs or mourn the doings of One Man's Family.
In the evenings Walter Winchell rasped "Mr. and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea! Let's go to press!
Chills ran up and down our spines as the creak of a door dared us to enter The Inner Sanctum; Rochester grumbled as he chauffeured his boss on The Jack Benny Show; Baby Snooks drove her father crazy; The Shadow rooted out the "evil that lurks in the hearts of men."
The Lone Ranger pursued desperadoes in the Old West, and Lowell Thomas painted word pictures of the jungles of Borneo and the Great Wall of China.
We were listening to the radio.