Second Place Is Still Pretty Dang Good

Here's an semi-arcane SAT-type question: The Andrew Sisters are to the McGuire Sisters as Joe DiMaggio is to:

a) Babe Ruth
b) Mickey Mantle
c) Derek Jeter
d) a and c but not b
e) b and c but not a

Since I was singing Sugartime all morning, I figured that I might as well sing to voices sweeter than mine. So, this morning I searched and found a cd that features the McGuire Sisters, as well as the Andrew Sisters.

Somehow, history has generally conceded the Andrew Sisters the superior trio and thus more deserving of airtime. Even though I disagree, I can still sing their tunes and allow them to bring me joy. And in full disclosure, I can even admit that I now own two different versions of Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. I think that's why I had to start this off with an sports analogy.

Anyway, the Andrew Sisters became immensely popular in 1937 when they recorded Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen. After our nation belatedly entered World War II, they became America's Sweethearts as they performed overseas for Allied soldiers and helped sell domestic war bonds. Their recording of Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree was what dough boys listened to as they sullenly stared at the tattered black-and-white of the girl they left back home. They were the It Girls.

Aside - I learned today that Nazi Germany heartily sang along to Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen as their troops goose-stepped across the Sudetenland until it was discovered that the song is not of German dialect (as I thought, as well) but is, in fact, Yiddish. And the composer was a Jew. The Krauts' collective jaw must've dropped just like mine did as I watched Conan the other night and wondered who the sassy and attractive blonde with the great voice was. Turns out it was Ashlee Simpson. Doh!

During the next three decades, they recorded with Bing Crosby and made a handful of films. But their trio became a duo when the oldest sister, Laverne, was diagnosed with cancer in 1962, which took her life five years later. Their music later re-emerged upon Better Midler's recording of Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.

The McGuire Sisters hit the music scene in the late 50's, just as the Andrew Sisters careers started to wane. The McGuire Sisters had Midwest charm (heck, their hometown was called Middletown), their craft honed by singing at church revivals where their mother was the ordained minister (which made Phyllis' relationship with Momo all the more interesting). Their wholesome demeanor reflected that era's innocence; they were the girls next door, the type you wanted to bring home to meet Mother. Think Jessica Simpson in a bun (the hairdo, not the bread).

Coming into popularity during the post-war advertising-fueled economic boom, they were able to quickly enter mainstream entertainment. Coca-Cola gave them, at the time, the most lucrative contract to date; they performed before presidents and royalty. They, too, dabbled in tv and films, but mainly stuck with recording music. Their break-up in 1968 occurred not as the result of tragedy, but of motherhood. Dorothy and Christine gave up career for family and left Phyllis a solo act.

I wonder how much acidic rivalry there was between the two trios. I wonder if it ever reached the level of Lindsay Lohan and Hilary Duff. Or of Britney and Christina. I wonder if they called each other White Trash and talked smack to each other in their songs. Or if they encountered each other at The Derby and had a dance-off. (Really, I dig chicks).

Getting back to the analogy and reaffirming my masculinity, Mantle (the correct answer is b) came to the Yankees when DiMaggio's career was coming to a close. Whereas The Dago was untouchable in his booth at Toots Shor's as he sipped champagne cocktails, anyone could drink a beer, or twelve, in the alley with The Mick. Mantle had the unbuttoned attitude whereas DiMaggio never appeared in public without a tie. I've also noticed a tendency, even among Yankees die-hards, to be obsessive about one and flippant toward the other. Whether these comparisons are accurate or superficial, they are nonetheless ingrained in memory and reputation.

I guess such is the nature of comparisons. There's always a winner. And if there must be a second place, whether it be the Andrew Sisters or Mickey Mantle, the difference is so close it's virtually indistinguishable.