Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1958)

I’M FOR REAL . . . Continued from page 37 a big hedge that went around the house and we had, well, rather a large back yard with grass, when we didn’t ruin it playing with the hose in the summer. We had a sand pile out by the garage, and a playhouse that we loved to paint. We had this big collie, Lady, who lived to be about thirteen years old. And a cat. And I can’t remember the cat’s name, but she used to have to take all her meals on top of the refrigerator because otherwise the dog would chase her from one end of the house to the other. And while the dog was chasing the cat, like as not the neighbor kids and I would be in the living room banging on my sister’s piano, or trying to lift my brother’s bar bells, which shouldn’t have been downstairs anyway. I remember I used to love to play red light, hopscotch, statues and jacks. And I was forever dashing in and out making peanut butter sandwiches and yelling at my brother, who loved to hook the latch on the screen door so I couldn’t get in. The other girls on the block were always more — well, you know — pretty little ladylike creatures in short socks, while I wore long stockings over this long lumpy underwear. I hated that! I don’t know that I was a tomboy exactly— I guess not really, because I loved dolls — but I thought nothing of fighting with the boys, and I could defend myself pretty good. Then I’d have these moods of wanting to dress up in high heels and swishing around pretending I was— oh, maybe Joan Crawford or somebody else just as — you know — glamorous. I’m not sure, but I think I was about eight when Mama sent me to the Jorg Fasting ballet school. And — uh — by the time I was twelve I was a pretty good dancer and I guess that’s when part of me got real serious. I could always, you know, picture myself as a great ballerina. Maybe I was what they call a split personality, because part of me was trying to be a comedienne, too. Even in grammar school. I seemed to always be doing crazy things to get a laugh like, oh, falling out of my seat or maybe imitating the teacher behind her back. My grades were about average, I guess. Except, you know, when I wanted to apply myself. Like when I was on the student council in junior high and made the honor roll. I always got along well with other children out of school, but I think in school what I suffered mostly from was being shy. It was hard for me to get up in class and recite. When I could make the kids laugh it was fine, but I was very self-conscious if I had to be serious. And if I would be corrected in public or anything like that I would get terribly embarrassed and act awful. I’d yell at my parents and then — oh — I felt just terrible. I was always sorry right away. But I remember I’d rather die than apologize. Not any more, though. Now if I feel I’ve been wrong it’s nothing at all for me to apologize. I wish it were that easy to, you know, analyze yourself on everything. And I was always sort of curious about what it would be like to be analyzed, because I’d seen it in the movies and I’d often wondered what would happen. Well, last January this reporter took me to a psychologist to try to find out — I don’t know — what makes me P tick, I guess, and I enjoyed it! I lay down on the couch and he talked. I mean, we carried on a conversation, about the Paar show mostly. And I took the word test and, uh, the ink-blot test and I drew pictures looking in the mirror. So the very last thing he said was he would never advise psychoanalysis for me, that it would probably ruin my earning power. Because, he said, one of the things that made me interesting was that I was different and he said, once I learned what made me act differently from other people I might conform and not be as interesting any more. To me, my worst fault is disorganization. Like, well, I keep everything and it’s usually in a pile and it takes me a while to dig it out. I don’t always find what I’m after, either. Like the time I flew to Miami with the Paar show. When I got to the airport I went all through my things and I didn’t have my ticket. Jack just looked at me and said, “How you ever gonna get to the moon?” When we got home I discovered the doggone ticket had flown all the way to Miami and back mixed up with my music. I also admit I have a temper — at times. I, I think it’s a luxury that you can’t afford too much, because other people won’t put up with it. If I have a tendency to lose it I just sort of, well, count to ten. Like when they start asking you how old you are. I think a performer has a perfect right to conceal his true age. Now for me, I don’t conceal mine. I say I’m twenty-nine because I don’t want to be thirty. Things I do like — music, reading. With music, well, I love all kinds, really, but I lean toward classical, and I like ballet music, naturally. As for reading, I WHERE TO BUY PHOTOPLAY FASHIONS To buy fashions shown on pages 64, 65 and 78, write manufacturer or nearest store listed below, mentioning Photoplay, and enclosing a clipping of the item you wish to order. Marina del Mar swimsuits Atlanta, ca Davison Paxon Co. BALTIMORE, MD Hutzler's ST. LOUIS, MO Famous Barr SEATTLE, WASH MarDougall & Southwick or write Marina del Mar 10201 Anza Avenue, Los Angeles 45, Calif. Kleinert‘s swim caps Birmingham, ala Parisian, Inc. st. louis, mo Stix, Baer & Fuller or write Kleinert’s 485 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y. Sea Nymph swimsuit Chicago, ill Chas. A. Stevens & Co. fort worth. Texas Monnig’s new york, N. Y Saks — 34th Street san francisco, calif Mary’s California or write Jordan Mfg. Company 1410 Broadway, New York, N. Y. U. S. Rubber beaeh shoes and swim caps, page 65 and swim cap, page 78 Write U. S. Rubber Company 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N. Y. Sea B’s swimsuit new YORK, N. Y. . .Wanamaker's Liberty Street providence, R. i Gladding’s or write Sea B's Swim Suits 1410 Broadway, New York, N. Y. just read everything, from movie magazines to scientific magazines. And books, of course, especially biographies of show people. And I have a lot of Thurber and Benchley. I don’t retain everything I read exactly as it is. But sometimes something somebody says will remind me of something I’ve read and I’ll be able to recall it. That’s the way it is with everything. If somebody asks me on the spur of the moment I can’t remember, but if I’m just sort of casually reminded of it, or it’s apropos, then I do. Like at first, Jack Paar used to always ask me on the air, “What did you do today, Dody?” And maybe I’d been rushing around since nine in the morning but I’d just go blank. People are always asking me — you know — what do I do all day. Well — I’ve either been rushing to a rehearsal or from a rehearsal, or to a ballet class, or washing my hair, or taking a bath, or learning material, or washing my stockings, or answering phone calls, or answering mail, or taking a nap, or reading. Since I’ve been on television, well, naturally, life is even more hectic. So many people see you and — you know— they recognize you on the street and stop to talk. And I love to talk to people. Then there are interviews and pictures. Seems like I’ve posed for enough pictures to, I don’t know, set up my own rogues gallery. And some of the photographers make you do the craziest things. Like one had me drag out all the hats I had in the closet. I mean — for heaven’s sakes, I’m no Lily Dache. I had hats, hats, hats all over the place for days because I had to fly to Hollywood for the Gobel-Fisher show the next morning. That was last March and it was lots of fun. It was really my, well, my first big guest shot is what it was. And George and Eddie were so kind. Ethel Merman, too. It was my first trip to Hollywood and I guess that’s always a thrill. Of course, I was only there for a week and I spent six days of it working but I did get to eat at the Brown Derby and the Beachcomber and La Rue’s, where I saw my favorite — Dinah Shore. On my last day some friends drove me out around Laurel Canyon and the San Fernando Valley and Malibu Beach. The scenery is so beautiful, and the air! It’s just marvelous! They had a party for us at the Beverly Hills Hotel after the Gobel-Fisher show. Eddie had to go home early because Debbie had just had a baby. That show meant a lot to me, because you reach a whole new audience in the early evening hours. George and Eddie have 60,000,000 viewers! You reach new people in the early morning hours, too, like on “Today.” When my appearances on the Paar show were first cut down, everybody rushed to ask me how I felt. And it was so sudden that — well, I — I probably said all the wrong things. At first I was sort of unhappy about it, naturally. I didn’t realize then that it was really a step forward — more money and the opportunity to do guest shots on other shows. I get so many offers now it’s just wonderful. Even the Theatre Guild wants me for a play — “Dulcy.” I’m going to do it this summer for six weeks. We open in Chicago in July for two weeks and close in Westport in August. I forget where we go in between — I think Falmouth, for one, and Ogunquit. Anyway, I’m really thrilled because I’d like to establish myself as an actress. So things really do happen for the best. But one thing I’d like to make clear is that I always have been and always will be grateful to Jack Paar for the opportunity he gave me on his show. Some people think I used a teleprompter on the Paar show but I didn’t. I just talked