Song of the Day (“It’s All in the Game”)

“Many a tear has to fall
But it's all in the game.”—“It’s All in the Game,” lyrics by Carl Sigman, music by Charles G. Dawes

(On this date in 1958, Tommy Edwards’ recording of “It’s All in the Game” hit #1 on the Billboard pop chart for the sixth and final week. Over the years, the many fans--and perhaps even a few musicians--who made this song a pop standard have probably been unaware that it began life all the way back in 1912 as “Melody in A Major,” an instrumental composed by Charles G. Dawes. Carl Sigman slapped the lyrics on nearly 40 years later, and Edwards’ hit was really a re-recording of his own earlier version of the song—a successful last-ditch attempt to save his recording deal with MGM Record.

Fans and musicians will likely also be surprised to learn that this wasn’t Dawes’ only creation or accomplishment. This descendant of William Dawes, the midnight rider to Lexington who never became as famous as Paul Revere, split his life between the public and private sectors, yet still made time for music. Adept at the flute and piano, he possessed compositional skills strong enough that violin virtuoso Fritz Kreisler performed one of his works as an encore—and organizational skills prodigious enough that he helped found the Chicago Grand Opera Co.

And that wasn’t the end of his accomplishments, because Dawes also:

* Founded the Central Trust Bank of Illinois;
* Served as comptroller of the currency in the McKinley administration;
* Served as a brigadier general in WWI, where he was responsible for procurement for Gen. John J. Pershing;
* Became the first U.S. Director of the Budget;
* Served as chairman of a commission that restructured war reparations and stabilized (temporarily) the German economy, at a point when that nation seemed ready to spin immediately into chaos;
* Won a Nobel Peace Prize for that latter effort;
* Served as Vice-President of the United States under Calvin Coolidge.

Now, no human being is a superhero, and Dawes wasn’t perfect, either—something he demonstrated as Vice-President. I’m afraid that this man of many parts came to occupy a single place in the Coolidge administration, one where other Vice-Presidents, before and after--and the current aspirants for the job show the tendency even more decidedly--have found themselves: the doghouse.

Dawes didn’t get off on the right foot with Congress by denouncing, without warning, in his inaugural address as Vice-President, the time-honored Senate practice of filibustering. He didn’t improve matters when he preemptively wrote Coolidge that he’d prefer not to attend Cabinet meetings—something that undoubtedly astonished Coolidge, the first VP ever invited to sit in on these confabs by his own boss, Warren G. Harding.

All of that was indicative of the blunt manner typified by Dawes’ nickname, “Hell ‘n’ Maria”. He had earned this moniker with his explosive response to a Senator who questioned whether he might have overpaid for French horses in the war: “Hell ‘n’ Maria, I will tell you this, that we would have paid horse prices for sheep, if they could have hauled artillery!"

But Silent Cal really turned cool on his blunt VP over one incident. Sarah Palin was being a mite imprecise when she told some schoolchildren that the job of the Vice-President was “head of the Senate.” Actually, he (or she) presides over the Senate. It’s a duty that’s so dull and time-wasting that they try to get out of it every which way they can. It even got Teddy Roosevelt to thinking that getting his law degree—which he had abandoned more than 20 years before at Columbia University because of the crushing boredom involved—might not be such a bad idea—until, that is, he got the news that, with President McKinley assassinated, he wasn’t going to be bored anymore.

So, on this one day, Coolidge’s nominee for Attorney-General, Charles Warren, was up for confirmation. Dawes had been assured that he needn’t be around, but suddenly there were fewer speakers scheduled than expected, the vote was moved up, and everything was tied. “Where’s Charley?” everyone wondered.

Well, Dawes, understandably exhausted from his strenuous speaking and other activities, was taking a much-needed nap in the Willard Hotel. By the time the Republican honchos had found him and he’d hailed a cab to return to Capitol Hill, one of the vote’s aye-votes had been turned around. Dawes returned too late, and Coolidge had egg on his face—and no matter their party affiliation, no President likes this.

Oh, well. Just remember that there once was a time when a GOP Vice-Presidential candidate had more substantial interests than just moose-cleaning, and that Dawes became the only Vice-President or President ever to have a #1 hit.

And that’s the only song-and-dance routine I ever hope to see in politicians!)