In the authoritative, straight-from-God tone of voice that has endeared him to the nation, Chet Huntley solemly announces in the latest of the political humor records that Americans have "advanced and refined" the art of humor more than any other people. to prove this assertion of a "rich tradition" of laughs, he brings forth excepts from current leaders on the Best of Washington Humor (Gemeo, C-1044).

The chuckle anthology is not quite the "riotous collection of political pleasantry" Cameo claims, but some of the bands are pretty skillful. Former Little Rock Congressman and now Special Assistant to the President Brooks Hays is given the largest play, and in general he is worth it. Hay's humor is not the subtle jab of Adlai Stevenson; rather it is folksy, obvious, and almost slapstick. If Hays' remarks were printed they would come off dreadfully, but his quips gain life when told with the soft drawl of the southerner.

President Kennedy, who supposedly revived humor in Washington after eight years of Eisenhower homilies, is also presented at his best. Huntley selects Kennedy's now famous speech to the White House Correspondents' annual dinner where the President parodied his fight against big steel. The thrusts are cutting, and, if delivered by a Republican would be almost libelous. From Kennedy they are delightful.

Others on the disk, however, sound too much, like politicians trying too hard to be funny. Sen. Barry Goldwater. Sen. Kenneth Keating, and Sen. Thurston B. Morton struggle valiantly to achieve the gentle touch, without much success.

Another difficulty with the record is that, like the First Family, the humor is only superficial. If you've heard it once, you've heard it enough. Only an inveterate party-giver would find permanent value in it.