Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1938)

Marlene did in "Angel" when Herbert Marshall was so occupied with business that he took her for granted and she »fell for Melvyn Douglas, everything might be hokey-pokey. I really think one can learn a great deal about life from the movies because people often act exactly like characters. w E HAVE it. Barb and I have decided to stake everything on one fell coup or is it swoop? Must look it up. We plotted it out and it took us three hours during which we smoked like chimneys, three cigarettes each. We hate smoking but felt it would help us concentrate. We are not going to tell Henry a thing about it because he has the masculine point of view. The conspiracy is as follows, namely: Two weeks from Sunday is their seventeenth anniversary. I persuaded them to have a party because, I said, people aren't married seventeen years every day. It will be a big reception and Ye Scribe will address the invitations which are engraved (and get a buck emolument) and one of them, unbeknownst to my parents will go to Miss Florence Thayer. Of course she'll come showily clad and she'll make herself conspicuous. I made mops buy a heavenly pearl gray chiffon which is alluring, yet refined and will go with her black pearl earrings and yellow roses. I shall also insist on her having her hair upswept. If that doesn't bring pops to his senses, nothing will. Nothing important has happened in a week except the opening of Miss Temple's "Little Miss Broadway" and world events, for which see your daily paper. HELEN DAMNATION. If I only had $25. Where do people get $25? I'm not sure whether it was Barb's idea or mine. She said it first, but I think I sent it to her via mental telepathy. It was last Sunday and we were reading the papers and came across an article about Escort Guides. It said you could get a man of any type for an evening to do whatever you wanted with him. In a flash I saw the possibilities of solving the triangle. (Barb says you can't solve a triangle, she being mathematical.) So Monday I called up the Bureau and explained what I might want, and they said it would be $25 because the gentleman would have to be rehearsed in the role. I could tell mops that he was a friend of Marjorie's that we had met at her coming-out party because Marj has lots of oldish friends. Oh, for some jewelry to pawn! The only thing I own that has any cash value is my autograph album. Vera Bailey offered to buy it once but I think I'd rather die than part with it. Missed Spencer Tracy. Gosh how midterms interfere with life! IHE DIE is cast ... or is it dye? All the precious names that it took me three years to collect, that I stood in the rain and got a cold in the head for, that I wrote letters for, swapped, bought and begged ... all gone for the measly sum of twenty-five dollars. If I had entrusted it into worthy hands it would hurt less. But Vera Bailey has no sentiment about things sacred. To her a facsimile is just as good as an original if you go over it with ink. She'll be telling all her friends that she met all the stars herself. She'll have a hard time explaining the ones that say "To Jane," of which there are six. She tried to get me down to $20 although she is l.w.m., having her own bank account and a real check book. It's really worth at least $30 as I have 3 I. T. R.'s. I have a new album that Barb gave me but I don't know whether I want to start it. I cried all night. But it had to be done because I came across a clue that proved that my worst suspicions had not been in vain. I had to return some stockings on acc't of if you looked at them harshly they got runs, so I was looking over the slips from the department stores in pops' desk, and what do I come across but two as follows: 1 nightgown $7.50 1 bed jacket 5.00 sent to Miss Florence Thayer and 3 pr. booties— $1.00 ea $3.00 1 bib 2.00 sent to Miss Florence Thayer I would have fainted if I'd known how. Here was I, Jane Lyons, with an illegitimate half brother or sister (I hope it's a boy) whom I would never know, and my father looking so innocent. I didn't know whether to show the slips to mother and advise her to get a divorce at once, or whether to try to patch things up. Went right over to Barb's for a conference. We decided that the preservation of my home and my mother's happiness was at stake so I must make the supreme sacrifice. If it flops, all is chaos. I wonder what the child's name is. In a way I feel sorry for Miss Thayer. The woman always pays. 00 I WENT to the Escort Bureau. The manager was very attractive in a Brian Aherne-ish way. He is real Social Register because he talks like an English play. The office was moderne and even the office boy had chic. I noticed every detail to be able to tell Barb who was waiting outside. I took the manager into my complete confidence immediately because I could see that he was a man to be trusted. I explained that I wanted a man who would play up to mother and make father jealous and asked him how old his oldest escort was and he said sixtyfive. Of course that was out. I told him 1 wanted one about thirty-five to forty, tall and slim, with hair greying around the temples. He must be impeccably groomed, witty, cultured and with a smattering of languages, and he must be able to sort of make love with his eyes. The manager knew exactly what I meant. He said he had just the right party, a Mr. John Carrington of the Carringtons of Park Avenue and Tuxedo Park. He is a Harvard man, thirty-five. Has had a short stage career doing atmospheric parts. He is waiting to be called to Hollywood and as he loathes being idle he is filling in with EscortGuides. He sounds thrilling. He is to be posted on the situation and to call me and Barb by our first names. He will wear a red carnation. He must hover around mother and pay her compliments in a rather loud voice. Above all, he mustn't notice Miss Thayer. She'll be at a terrible disadvantage not knowing anybody and of course her clothes will be flashy and she'll make breaks. While I was there I got the manager's signature to start my new album. It's very distingue, and with a big flourish. It's all very exciting but I am getting nervous. I wish Sunday were over. Henry brought me a Donald Duck. WELL of all things! Barbara and I are nonplussed. I must put down everything that happened tonight because someday I may want to write a book. 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