Getting a blip on my radar, Bub.
Yeah, well, then,
turn off your set.
The-The blip's for dinner.
Oh, just one little piece.
Not one little crumb.
Boy, nobody bakes like you.
No, really, you're the
Michelangelo of the kitchen.
You're talking on a
dead line, Charlie.
This is for dessert,
and I'm going to put
strawberries on top.
Oh.
Doggone it. I forgot
the strawberries.
Now what do I do?
Well, why don't
you call our market?
They have an afternoon
delivery, usually.
That's a good idea. Yeah.
Yeah, you think?
Hello? Eddie?
Bub O'Casey.
Yeah, you coming
down our way today?
Bring me a couple of
boxes of strawberries.
Hey, better make that three.
This cake's got
a big roof on it.
Yeah. Huh?
You know me. I
always like the eggs.
Yep.
All right. Good-bye.
See you when you get here.
Hi.
Hi.
Hey, where'd you get the cake?
We can't have
any. It's for dinner.
I get the picture.
Routine one or two?
Oh, two. He's onto "one."
Hi, Bub. Hi.
Where'd you get the cake?
I baked it.
Oh.
And don't forget I
baked it for dinner.
For dinner.
Oh, okay. All I want
is a glass of water.
Well, help yourself.
Hello?
Hello?
I said hel...
More wrong numbers
around here...
And they always seem
to call just about the time
you fellas get home from school.
Oh, well, it's probably one
of the girls checking up on us.
You know how jealous women are.
They just can't take
no for an answer.
Well, will you please ask
them to try and not call
just at the time I'm
getting dinner, Hot Lips?
Okay, sure, Bub. Thanks.
Oh, hi.
Hi.
Hey, what happened to you?
Hey! Cake!
Who slugged you?
Routine one or two?
Two. Who slugged you?
Ah, some dumb kid.
Hi, Bub.
Hi, Chip.
What's the matter with your eye?
Oh, nothin'.
Nothin'?
Well, there's a mouse hanging
around there, big enough
to eat a pound of cheese.
Uh, I got in a fight.
Now, don't you know your
father doesn't want you to fight?
Well, it wasn't my fault.
And besides, it doesn't hurt.
Mm-hmm. Well, it'll hurt
when your father gets home,
maybe a little further down.
Come on over here and
I'll try and fix it up for you.
Sit down there.
Try a piece of cake.
For your eye?
No, to keep up my strength.
I may be in shock.
You may be in shock, all right.
Now, you wait right there
and I'll go in my room
and get something
to fix that eye.
Well, now, this ought to...
take care of
that eye, all right.
What's the matter, Bub?
Well, I don't know.
Is that, uh, cake shrinking,
or are my eyes getting smaller?
Something's going on.
Here, now, look up.
Look up at me.
Does that hurt?
Uh-uh.
Bub? Yeah?
Do we have to tell
Dad I got in a fight?
Well, how are we going
to explain about that eye,
unless we tell him
you got in a fight?
Well, we could say
I walked into a door.
Oh, no.
Not that old baby.
We might try to
feed him that one,
but he'll never swallow it.
Why don't you just
be a brave little man
and tell him the truth?
Yeah, I guess.
I guess, too. Like
the kid up the street,
after he broke our
window with his baseball.
He told Dad the truth,
and, uh, he forgave him.
Yeah, well, Dad
had to forgive Skinny.
His father was right in
back of him, holding the bat.
I didn't know that.
One second, Betty.
Be through in a minute, Dad.
Robbie, uh, why don't you
put some supplies in there
and run a snorkel
up through the ceiling,
and you'll be able to
stay in there for days.
Now, leave the door
open, so you don't smother.
Steve... Oh, hi, Bub; Chip.
Hello, Tramp, boy.
We've got something to tell you.
Right, Chip?
Yeah, Dad, we got
something to tell you.
What happened to your eye?
You see how he
guessed it right away, huh?
You have quite a shiner.
Where'd you get it, Chip?
Would you believe it if I
told you I walked into a door?
You, uh, wouldn't expect me
to believe that,
would you, Chip?
No, but it'd sure
help a lot if you did.
Come over here and sit down.
You've, uh, been fighting, hmm?
Yes, sir.
You know how I feel
about fighting, don't you?
It's not the
gentlemanly thing to do.
That's right.
There are many ways
of settling differences
without using your
fists... right, Bub?
Well, uh...
Yeah, but sometimes,
there's no other way.
Right, Bub?
Well...
There's no reasonable
excuse for fighting, Chip.
Right, Bub?
Well, uh...
Come on, don't be
afraid... speak up.
Well, before I do, I
want to remind you
that good household
help is hard to get.
I didn't start the fight, Dad.
Danny Miller did.
You're sure?
Yeah. I was mad,
but I remembered what you said
about talking things
over, so I tried to.
What happened?
Well, while I was talking,
he hit me in the eye.
And, uh, then what happened?
He started talking, and
I hit him in the stomach.
Good boy, Chip.
Protect your knuckles
whenever you can.
Uh, come on, Tramp.
Uh, we're getting the evil eye.
Well, Chip, I'll admit you
had a reason to hit Danny,
but that doesn't
necessarily excuse it.
What were you mad
at in the first place?
Well, he said that his father's
more important than you
at the place you work,
because he's fire chief.
Well, Chief Miller is a very
important man at the air base.
But that's nothing
to fight about.
Yeah, but then he said
something real insulting about you.
What'd he say?
He said that you were nothing
but a measly old pencil pusher.
Oh.
And, uh, what did you say I was?
I told him you
were a test pilot.
But, Chip, I'm not
a test pilot anymore.
I'm an aeronautical engineer.
Isn't that sort of
like a test pilot?
No, I'm a structural designer.
What's that?
Well, that's
mathematical calculation
of weight, stress and balance.
What's that?
Well, it's a form
of arithmetic, Chip.
What I do is, uh...
Well, I guess I am
a pencil pusher.
Of course, uh, an important job
isn't always glamorous, Chip.
That's okay, Dad.
Well, Chip, we'll, uh, forget
about the Danny incident, huh?
You can go now.
I just want you to
remember, though...
No more fighting, hmm?
Well, I guess if you
really are a pencil pusher,
there's nothing to fight about.
Well, Bub, you really
outdid yourself tonight.
Mmm! That stew was
the greatest, I think.
Bub, you know, you
didn't goof on anything.
You don't have
to say it, fellas...
You get the cake
for dessert, anyway.
Well, it looks like I've got
one dissatisfied customer.
Yes, Chip, you haven't
eaten much tonight.
I'm not hungry, Dad.
You're holding out
for that cake, huh?
You feel all right?
I'm okay, Dad.
It's just a mild trauma
from his fight, Dad.
Did you know that
psychiatry's proven
that there's a direct ratio
between extreme physical shock
and mental depression?
Thank you and
good night, Dr. Freud.
I don't know. If you
ask me, he's just sore
at himself 'cause he
lost the fight, that's all.
I didn't lose. I hit him in the
stomach, and he
walked all the way
home doubled up.
Yeah, well, you're sure
a sad-looking winner.
That's enough, Rob.
Ah, wait till you wrap
your gums around this.
Oh, that looks good,
Bub. Thank you.
It is good.
I got a big hunk for you, pal.
No thanks, Bub.
No cake? What's
the matter with you?
Um, I don't think I'll
have any, either, Bub.
What's the matter with you?
Uh, I'll pass, too, Bub.
This afternoon, I couldn't
keep you away from it.
Or did I?
Well, um,
I think I'll go upstairs
and hit the books.
Yeah, me, too.
Thanks again, Bub.
You're sure you don't
want any more dinner, Chip?
No, thanks, Dad.
Well, maybe you'll feel like
eating something a little later.
Do you have some
homework to do? Yeah.
Well, you better go do it.
That arithmetic could stand
a little brushing up, you know?
Okay. Maybe if I get
to be real good at it,
I can be a pencil pusher, too.
What was that he said?
Well, he, uh, has the
idea, for some reason,
that I'm still a test pilot.
And when I told him I was an
aeronautical engineer, he, uh,
well, I guess it seemed a
little mild by comparison.
Well, he'll get over it.
You know how kids are.
They forget faster
than a politician
after a campaign.
Yeah, I suppose so.
You're not gonna let
it bother you, are you?
No, no, no.
I don't suppose
there's a father living
that isn't a disappointment
to his son in some way.
Mm-hmm.
Eat your cake.
Yeah.
Why don't you take Chip out to
the air base with you sometime?
When he gets a load of the jets
and the experimental
junk you got out there,
maybe he'll realize that your
job's got a little moxie to it.
Yeah, he might, at that.
Yeah, I could, uh...
I could show him a plane
on the drawing board,
and then show it to
him out in the field.
He might get a kick out of that.
Good cake, Bub.
Thank you.
Strange, isn't it,
how the smallest
incident can affect a boy?
I mean, if you're
not aware of it,
he can grow into manhood
and you might never
know what's on his mind.
It's even stranger with girls.
No matter how aware you are,
they grow into women,
and you never know
what's on their mind.
♪ ♪
Boy, wait till I tell
the clunky kids about this.
Glad you're having fun, Chip.
I bet it goes about
10,000 miles an hour.
Well, they get out
there pretty good,
but not quite that fast.
Oh, afternoon, Steve.
Oh, hi, Chief Miller.
Hi, Chip. Hi, Chief Miller.
Steve, I'm sorry about that
fight between Danny and Chip.
Well, I guess these
young fellows have to
let off a little steam
once in a while.
I don't think it'll
happen again, will it?
No, sir. I'm
sorry, Chief Miller.
Danny says he's sorry, too.
Say, can I give you a lift?
Oh, no, thanks.
We're, uh, just taking
a look around the field.
Well, if you have a few minutes,
maybe you'd like to
see the fire department.
Oh, boy! Can we, Dad?
Away we go.
Oh, boy!
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
You mind lifting
your leg, Dr. Freud?
Thank you very much.
I wonder how your dad's
making out with Chip.
Oh, fine, I'm sure.
Yeah, well, I wish I were.
I hate to see the
little fellow so upset.
He'll be okay, Bub.
The immature mind of a
child is very easily impressed.
Is that so?
Sure. The jet planes and all
the atmosphere out at the field
will create a glamorous
image in Chip's mind.
He'll associate the image
with Dad, and when the
transference is complete,
Dad will once again
become the hero figure.
That simple, huh?
Merely a basic observation
in psychology, Bub.
Well, you know I've made
a little observation
on psychology myself.
What's that?
Well, for a guy who
is studying the part
from the neck up,
you spend a lot of
time lying around
on the part from the waist down.
Well, thanks, Chief.
Yeah, thanks, Chief Miller.
Bye.
Well, come on, now, Chip,
I'll show you where I work.
Well, this is my office, Chip.
Is this where you work?
Yeah, this is where I'm
working at the moment.
Here's my desk and
there's my drafting table.
Come on. Sit up on the stool.
I'll show you what I do.
Now, uh, right now, I'm working
on a design for a high-speed wing.
Of course, the problem is to
make it aerodynamically sound.
That means it has to be
designed in such a way that,
uh, well, it'll hold together
under great stress and pressure.
Now, uh, this
part of the wing...
Don't you ever fly in a plane?
No, I don't fly much
anymore, Chip.
Don't you ever ride in
Chief Miller's fire truck?
No, no, that's not my job.
Is this all you do?
Well, I, uh, I wouldn't put
it exactly that way, Chip.
I guess maybe it doesn't
sound very exciting,
but it is kind of important.
Here, did I ever show
you how a slide rule works?
You can do all
kinds of things with it.
You can do addition,
division, multipl...
What's that, Dad?
It's an emergency signal, Chip.
What's the emergency for?
One of the planes
must be in trouble.
Yeah?
I'll be right over. Come on.
Where are we going?
To the control tower.
Boy!
Climb in that car
right there, Chip.
Glad you're here, Steve.
We're having control
malfunction with an F-101.
I don't want to lose the
plane, and it's too dangerous
to let Lieutenant
Smith risk a landing.
Air Force Jet 1-6 calling Tower.
Air Force Jet 1-6 calling Tower.
This is Tower. Come in, 1-6.
Low on fuel, Colonel.
Shall I get out or try landing?
Figure to have an
accident clinched either way.
Stand by, Smith.
Roger, standing by.
Steve, you know
every bolt in that plane.
You're our only chance to
save that pilot from bailing out.
Well, I'll do what
I can to help.
Tower calling Air Force Jet 1-6.
Roger, Tower, Air Force Jet 1-6.
Smith, I'm turning you over to
our engineer, Steve Douglas.
Follow his instructions.
Roger. Come in, Douglas.
Smith 1-6, this is Douglas.
Do you read me?
Loud and clear, Douglas.
What is the nature
of malfunction?
Uncontrollable roll
tendency to right.
Left aileron full up,
right one normal.
Barely able to hold
straight, level position.
Have you tried rudder control?
Roger. Not enough
rudder control.
Smith, do this very carefully.
Slow down to landing airspeed.
Tell me the difference.
Slowing airspeed.
300 knots.
270, 260...
Rolling...
Pull up airspeed.
Whew! Just did
pull it out, Douglas.
Smith, try pulling the
trim circuit breaker.
Roger.
No change, Douglas.
Fuel now 1,300 pounds.
Try pulling the
autopilot circuit breaker.
Pulling autopilot
circuit breaker.
No change.
Smith, turn yaw damper off.
Turning off yaw damper.
Little bit of control.
Not enough for safe
landing, though, Douglas.
I think the, uh, power
cylinder bell crank is broken.
The servo valves
are forcing the aileron
to a full up position.
Fuel now 1,000 pounds.
Have to come in or
fly over field and eject.
What do you recommend, Douglas?
I have to have it right now.
I'm afraid there's
no choice, Steve.
Tell him to eject.
Let me try one
more thing, Colonel.
Smith, read me close.
If this doesn't work, the
colonel recommends you eject.
Roger, let's have it.
Try throwing on the autopilot.
Autopilot hasn't been
checked out, Douglas.
Might put the plane in position
where I could not eject.
Hold tight to the control stick.
By exerting 60 pounds of force,
you can overcome the effect
of autopilot if it malfunctions.
Roger, Douglas.
Here goes.
Throwing on autopilot.
Aha!
Bird under control.
I'm comin' in!
Thanks, Steve.
I'm glad it worked.
Jet 1-6 to Douglas.
Jet 1-6 to Douglas.
Stick around... I'll buy you
a drink when I get down.
I'll take you up on that, Smith.
Roger and out.
There he is!
Crash Four calling Tower.
Crash Four to Tower.
Tower to Crash Four, come in.
Steve, this is Chief Miller.
Good work.
I take off my hat to you.
Thanks, Chief.
Well, Chip, I guess
we better go now.
Oh, Colonel, this
is my son Chip.
Hiya, Chip. Hi.
Kind of proud of your dad, huh?
You bet. He's a pencil pusher.
Well, Chip, I imagine Bub's
just about ready for dinner.
You better go and
get washed up, huh?
Yeah, and after dinner,
I'm really gonna bear down
on that arithmetic. Good boy.
Well, hail the conquering hero!
Hail!
Hey, congratulations, Dad.
Boy, are we proud of you, Dad.
Boy, I'll say. We
know all about ya.
Chief Miller phoned his wife,
his wife told Danny,
Danny told his pals,
and we've had 40
kids at the door asking
for your autograph.
They had a pilot that
would've crashed without Dad.
Well, the pilot
could've ejected.
Yeah, but you saved the
plane, didn't you, Dad?
Yeah, don't be modest.
No, don't be modest.
You're the greatest thing
since the lightning rod.
Well, who am I to
fight public opinion?
Did you stop at the market?
I gave you a list of
things to get for dinner.
Oh gosh, Bub, I
forgot. I'm sorry.
I've got the list
right here, too.
I got nothing to eat
here but canned beans.
Well, I'm sorry. Canned
beans?! I'm starving!
Oh, no! How could
you forget, Dad?
Look, I'm sorry,
fellas. I just forgot.
Hey, the market's
open on Eighth Street.
Well, then hike over there
and get something to eat.
Okay, uh, can we
use your car? Yes.
Here are the keys. Here.
I'll go with you. Oh, boy.
Here, take the list. I got it.
And you need some
money. Get some money.
Here, take-take it all.
Now, don't buy
everything in sight.
Try and pick out a squash.
Well, Tramp, I guess you
saw what happened there.
I hope it taught you something
you'll remember for
the rest of your life...
That fame is a
very fleeting thing.