Radio mirror (May-Oct 1939)

As for the significance of what he said about his new "girl friend" — well, see what you think about that. . . . I started him off by asking when he had first met Miss St. Germain, where, and all about it. He remembered exactly. It was one day when photographs were being taken of NBC stars in connection with the opening of the new broadcasting studios in Hollywood. Edgar and Charlie, Madaline Lee, the girl who plays "Miss Blue" with "Amos 'n' Andy," Helen Wood and some others were gathered around. Edgar had never seen her before but he certainly noticed her then. "When she spoke, there was something in her voice that made me listen," he told me. "I thought to myself, 'a good radio voice.' She has dark hair, lots of it, and on that day it was combed simply in what I guess you would call a 'page boy' bob. "I talked with her and realized I should like to see more of her. So, JUNE, 1939 in order to get her phone number without appearing conspicuous or impolite, I asked for the numbers of everyone in the group and later invited them to the rhumba party I was giving around Halloween time. Kay, among the others, accepted. I danced with her and I liked her better than ever because she was about the best dancer I had ever danced with. Since then — " He paused but I prompted him. "Since then you've been seeing a lot of her?" "Yes," he said, "as much as I have time for and she will let me." "Tell me other things about her that appeal to you," I demanded. He grinned again. "Are you comfortable?" he inquired, irrelevantly, I thought at first, but I was wrong about that. "Have a cigarette? Fine. Now. . . . What do I like about her? Well, that will take time to tell. That is why I wanted to make sure you were comfortable." Yes, he was half jesting, but just half. Her name's Kay St. Germain, she sings on NBC's Signal Carnival — and she's a Charlie McCarthy fan too. Exaggerating, but not completely. "In the first place," he said, "I like her because she has a sense of humor and is excellent company. She is one of the few women I have met who likes to tell a joke and can tell it well. She even makes them up and they're good." To prove his point he told me a couple — and they were! For example. . . . There was the mother hen who hatched a brood of a dozen chickens or so and, since there had been a duck egg in the nest, one duck. Eyeing the strange looking, broad-billed newcomer with complete disfavor, she exclaimed, "Ye Gods! A Ubangi!" "Then," he went on, "she likes to do the things that I enjoy. She plays golf, a whacking good game, and she can beat me at tennis — although, tactful girl that she is, she doesn't do it too often, for which I am grateful. Her badminton is good and so are her bridge and ping-pong. Another thing, she seems tickled to death to play them when I want to, which makes me feel comfortable. "She likes to eat, too. When she goes into a restaurant, she looks the menu over and orders a sensible meal, none of your trick foods, salad dressings made out of non-fattening oils, tomatoes and pineapples. A good dinner is as much an event with her as a good show. "She is not overly critical. You can take her to see a picture or to a broadcast secure in the knowledge that she won't have it torn to pieces five minutes after it's over. She has the same tolerance toward people. Men know when women are being cats and they don't like it for no other reason than because jealousy makes them uncomfortable. "She is restful. You don't have to entertain her every minute. She seems to fit in with a mood. If you want to be hilarious, she keeps up her end and then some. If you don't, she can be quiet and serious and you don't feel that she is making a conscious effort to do it, either. She reads good books and can discuss them intelligently. She knows what is going on in the world and can discuss that." "Do you ever quarrel?" I inquired. He smiled. "Well, not exactly, except that she sometimes becomes a little upset at a certain masculine perverseness (Continued on page 59)