Authors: Rose Marie
My father answered and I said good-bye to Bobby as I ran into the
house. My father started in: "Is this the big romance? What the hell is
going on? It's 12:20-only whores come home at that time. Where were
you?" Whack! He slapped me right across the face.
I said, "I called mother and told her we'd be a little late."
"Who is this son of a bitch you're going out with? A musician who's
all doped up?" Whack! I started screaming.
My brother came down the stairs and grabbed my father's hands. He
said, "Cut it out, Dad, what's the matter with you?" I was running around
the kitchen table and crying.
My father said, "You embarrassed me in front of the office. They
made fun of the fact that you had a guy and what was I going to do when
you leave. I'd have to get a job. What kind of shit is that?"
I tried talking to him, but it was impossible. My brother was holding
on to him and I just ran up to my room. My mother was standing up
there, scared stiff. I just looked at her and locked the door. Well, the yelling
and screaming continued between my mother and father. My brother was
trying to stop everything. It was quite a night.
The next day, I got up early and went into the city. I called Bobby
and met him at Uncle Joe's. We went out for a bite to eat, and I told him
everything that happened the night before.
He said, "I heard it all-from a block away. I started to walk up the
hill to come back and beat the shit out of your father, but then everything
got quiet. I didn't want to start anything again, so I took the bus and went
back to Schrib's. I'm sorry, honey. I didn't know what to do."
I told Bobby, "It's better that you left, because he would have started
all over again. I'm going to talk to my mother tonight and explain everything, that as soon as you get out of the army, we're going to get married
and go to California. What can they do?"
He said, "I know your mother understands, but your father is another story."
I said, "Don't worry, I'll straighten it out."
Little did I know I could never convince my father. My mother did
understand after I explained everything. Then she talked to my father and he
told her, "I found out he's a drunkard, takes dope and is going to live off
her."
My mother asked him, "Who told you?"
He said, "I talked to a few musicians and they know him."
This happened a lot. Mom would tell me, and I'd tell Bobby.
Bobby would reply, "Bring the guys in front of me and I'll prove
they're wrong."
When my mother told my father that, he would brush it off and not
mention it again. We were going around and around in circles.
I finally said, "Mother, I'll tell you everything from the beginning."
The next morning, everybody was home: my mother, my father, and
my brother. I said, "I want to talk to all of you. His name is Bobby Guy.
He's been with Kay Kyser since he was seventeen. He lives in California.
His horns and clothes are in California and he wants to go back there. He
knows he can get his job back. He has nothing here in New York. He wants
to marry me the minute he gets out of the army and go to California.
Those are my plans."
My father said, "What did he do, knock you up?"
I said, "No, we're just in love. I have never come home and said `I'm
in love with this guy or that guy and I want to get married,' have I?"
My brother said, "No, this is the first guy."
"Why don't you just meet him?" I asked my father.
My mother said, "Is he Catholic?"
I said, "I don't know, I didn't ask him."
My father said, "What about his family?"
I answered, "They live in Trenton. His mother, sister, and brother.
His brother works at Bethlehem Steel and his sister is a schoolteacher. They
are both married and have kids."
My father said, "I want to meet his mother."
I said, "Fine, I'll tell him and we'll arrange a meeting."
To make a long story short, we made the appointment. His mother
came in from Trenton-my father never showed up!
His mother was furious! She said, "Who in the hell does he think he
is?" I couldn't blame her. They never did get together.
I did a club date at Laurel in the Pines. They had a jeweler there who
sold rings and bracelets to the rich folks. I saw a ring and fell in love with it.
I told the fellow who ran the store, "Could we come up to see you?
Would you give us a break?"
He said, "You come see me."
His office was in New York City, so it was easy to go and see him. I
told Bobby about the ring, and we decided to go and see this jeweler.
When we got there, I introduced Bobby and said, "We plan on getring married and that ring would be my engagement ring."
He brought out the ring-it had a cabochon ruby in the center, a
half-carat diamond on each side, and four baguettes. There was one baguette on top of each jewel and one baguette on the bottom. It was truly
lovely.
Bobby said, "Do you like that instead of one good-sized diamond?"
I said, "Where are you getting all this money?"
He said, "That's my problem, not yours. Do you really want it?"
I said, "Yes."
He then talked to the guy about payments. Bobby was making extra
money doing radio shows for Joe Schribman's orchestras and he'd have it
paid off in no time. I was thrilled, and the guy gave me the ring. Bobby put
it on my finger and I was engaged! Of course, the papers found out and
wrote about it, and my father went wild!
He cornered me one morning and said, "Let me see the ring."
I showed it to him and he said, "How much did you pay for it?"
I said, "I didn't buy it. Bobby did, and he is paying it off in payments
whenever he does the radio shows for Joe Schribman's bands."
"How can he make any money? He's in the army," my father said.
I told him, "All the musicians at Camp Shanks are doing little dates
on the side to make extra money."
My father said, "Who's this Joe Schribman?"
I told him about Uncle Joe (as we called him) and how the guys in
the band from Camp Shanks hung out at the apartment. How he was
getting them jobs playing the radio shows because all the good musicians
were in the army. I said, "Everybody does it."
Well, he got mad and said, "I don't believe it! This Schribman guy
could get into a lot of trouble." And then he stomped out of the house.
I was still in rehearsal with Spring in Brazil, and we were to open in
Boston in two weeks. Everything was going smoothly, sort of, until one
day Bobby called and said, "Could you come into town a little earlier? It's
very important."
I asked, "What's wrong?"
He said, "I'll tell you when you get here."
Wow. I thought. Something's very, very wrong.
I went into New York and up to the apartment. Schribman was there,
in a rage.
I said, "What's wrong?"
Schrib showed me a letter addressed to Special Services:
Dear Sirs:
I understand a Mr. Joseph Schribman has been using men
who are in the Army to play in his orchestras all over town and
in New Jersey. Don't you think it's a little unfair to the other
musicians who need their livelihood, to give the jobs to the
Army? I thought they were supposed to be IN the Army and
not free-lancing around. One musician in particular, Robert
William Guy, is making money on the side while he's supposed
to be in service. This Joe Schribman should be told he's wrong
in doing this. I, as a concerned citizen, object to this going on,
and hope you will do something about it.
Sincerely, Joseph Hyman
Well, I almost died. Bobby was holding Schrib down in a chair. Schrib was
fighting mad and he said, "That S.O.B. is causing nothing but trouble and
he didn't even know Bobby's name." (Bobby's name was William Robert
Guy, not Robert William Guy, but everyone called him Bobby.)
We all knew it was my father who had done this. I didn't know what
to say.
Schribman said, "Don't say anything. Make him think he got away
with it. I'll straighten it out. I know all the brass at Shanks, but I'm telling
you, if he does anything else, I'll take him to court."
Things were quiet for a little while, and I left for Boston to open in
Spring in Brazil. Ruthie was thrilled because we could spend a lot of time
together. Bobby stayed at Shanks for about a week and then came up to
Boston. I was staying at the Bradford-of course-which was next door to
the Shubert Theater. When Bobby came up, he rented a room at the
Bradford as well. Ruthie fixed it so that Bobby wouldn't pay for his room.
He stayed until the opening. My father didn't come up.
It was a big opening and Ruthie threw a party after the show, while
we waited for the reviews. They were awful! I must say that Milton stuck to
the book-on opening night, anyway-but after the reviews he just did all
his "shtick": talking to the audience, breaking out of character, and so on.
We did planned "break-ups." He would do one, and if it got a big laugh,
when we came off stage he'd slap me on the rear and say, "Leave that one in."
I'd say, "Okay."
One night Lee Shubert and Monte Prosner came to my dressing room
and said, "We want to talk to you."
I thought, Uh-oh! This is it. But no! They asked me to do my Durante
number.
I have to explain the Durante number. I was never an impressionist,
but at some point I did a Durante number and it went over very well. Years
before this, Jimmy and I were good friends. He always called me "Baby
Rose Marie" and he showed me "how to do him."
He'd say, "Raise your voice up here, swing your arm here," and so on,
until I had a whole Durante number. It was always one of my big numbers.
Every time I played the Capitol, I had to have a new Durante song.
So when Lee Schubert and Monte Prosner asked me to do my Durante number, I said, "Where?"
They said, "Before the second act finale."
I said, "That's the best spot in the show."
They said, "You'll do it `in one' with just the curtain behind you."
I said, "It doesn't make sense. I'm in an airline stewardess uniform all
ripped up because the jungle boy with the loincloth full of diamonds has
dragged me through the jungle! And I break out in the Durante number?
It doesn't make sense. It's stupid and asinine."
They said, "Do it!"
I said, "I have to send for my music."
They said they would special-messenger it, so that I could do it the
next night. I almost died. But they sent for the music. I rehearsed with the
band that afternoon and I was nervous as hell.
I called Ruthie and told her she had to come down to see this. She
also thought that it was crazy. Bobby had gone back to New York after
opening night, so I just called him and told him about it.
He said that I should call him later and let him know how it went.
"Good luck," he said.
I laughed and told him, "Yeah, it will be the first time Durante dies!"
The time came for me to work it out in one and I started the verse of
the Durante number. People were looking at their programs, turning pages,
trying to find this Durante number. When I broke into the voice of Durante-which usually got a big hand-this time, nothing.
I kept going and, little by little, they started to warm up-I could
feel it. When I did the two Durante jokes that Jimmy had taught me, the
audience laughed and applauded. I finished the number with the Durante
walk-off and the audience applauded and whistled. It was overwhelmingthey kept applauding. I kept taking bows and they opened to full stage
with the entire cast, which usually quiets the audience. But this time they
kept applauding.
Monte Prosner said, "Take another bow." The whole cast onstage
pointed toward the wings. I gulped, took another bow and we went into
the finale. I had stopped the show.
While all this was going on, I could hear Milton backstage yelling:
"Where the hell does the Durante number fit into a jungle scene? Who the
hell okayed this? This is crap ...it doesn't fit. God damn it," and so on. He
went on and on until he had to make his appearance for the finale. When
we took our single bows, I got the biggest hand, and then Milton came
out. He too got a big hand. He looked at me with fire in his eyes, took my
hand, kissed me, and then he and I took the last bow.
We stayed in Boston for four weeks trying to fix up the show. Next
stop was Philadelphia for four weeks. We were always trying to improve it.
The reviews in Philadelphia were a little better, but not very much.
One reviewer wrote: "For no rhyme or reason, Rose Marie does her
famous Durante number, but thank God for no rhyme or reason." That
didn't set too well with Milton. He never mentioned it again-except in
his book.
We then went to Pittsburgh. The rumor was that the show wouldn't
open in New York, so they would do a lot of towns to try to get some of the
money back. I thought I'd rather leave the show and go back to New York.
I could do better there.
Bobby came up to Pittsburgh and saw the show. He asked, "What are
you going to do?"
I told him, "I'm leaving after two weeks." We were booked for four
weeks.
On our day off, Milton called me and said, "Get Bobby, we're going
to a burlesque show."
I said, "I've never seen one."
We went to dinner and the Ice Follies and then, at eleven o'clock or
so, we went to the burlesque show. I never laughed so much in my whole
life. Milton kept shouting "Put it on!" instead of "Take it off." We had one
helluva time!
Back at the hotel, we sat in the lobby and talked for three hours
about everything... showbiz, comics, and so on.
By four o'clock in the morning, I said, "I'm going to bed." I kissed
Bobby and kissed Milton and went up to my room.
Milton kidded Bobby about going up to my room. He said, "I'll talk
to you all night, so you can't go up." Big joke. Bobby was staying at another hotel! Milton couldn't believe it.