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I DIDN’T make one boner, but two * full-fledged ones recently. On the set of "Together Again,” Charles Boyer introduced me to a pair of gentlemen who were visiting the studio. At the end of the day, Charles asked whether he could drop me home and I accepted, as my car was at the garage being repaired.
Charles’s friends drove along with us. On the way down Hollywood Boulevard, one of the gentlemen offered me a cigarette which I declined, saying, "I don’t smoke.” He looked at me rather strangely. A few minutes later the second man suggested we stop somewhere for cocktails. I thanked him and again declined, stating that I was in a hurry to get home and besides, I added, "I don’t drink.” He, too, looked at me strangely.
Next morning on the set, Charles burst into laughter when he saw me. "So you don’t smoke and you don’t drink,” he chided. "No,” I answered, "I don’t and you know it.” Charles continued laughing and I demanded to know what was so funny. "Oh, nothing,” he said, "only one of the men you met yesterday is president of a cigarette company, and the other is one of the largest distillers in America!”
With
lam
II NE day a few years ago, before I ” became an actor, I walked into television station WNPB in New York City. I was on my way to try to sell a radio script I had written when a man came up to me. He explained that they needed an announcer in a hurry and he’d like me to audition for it. I’d never done any television work before, but I saw no reason to refuse. I auditioned by reading want ads for him. That got me the job as master of ceremonies on their Radio City Matinee each day. It was in that job that I pulled my worst boner.
One day I was interviewing a prominent interior decorator for the television audience. I don’t know what I could have been thinking of, but I found myself saying: "I would now like to introduce Mr. George McAllister, the famous inferior decorator.” Television is a wonderful thing, but it certainly boomeranged that day. Because, of course, everyone listening in could see his expression — and believe me, that expression must have scared every housewife on Long Island!
I ’VE pulled a lot of boners, but I * think the worst one happened when I did a picture on loan-out to Columbia one time.
The lot was strange to me, and when lunch time came the first day I meant to follow my fellowworkers to the commissary, but was delayed. When I finally started out, there was no one to follow, so I asked directions from the gateman. Unless you’ve been on a studio lot, you probably can’t imagine how confusing the directions can be. . Turn left — turn right — turn, turn, turn. That’s the way his directions sounded to me and I was very relieved when after trying to follow them, I at last found myself in a room which had a long table and saw several men sitting there busy with menus, so I sat down, too, and gave my order.
I was so engrossed that I didn’t notice until after I ordered, that absolute silence had fallen on the gathering, and that most of the gentlemen were glaring at me. Mr. Harry Cohn, the boss of the studio, was seated at the head of the table and I smiled at him. I wouldn’t describe his answering expression as enthusiastic. I took another look around the room and then the truth dawned on me. I was in Mr. Cohn’s private dining room — sitting in on his midday conference!
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