Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1959)

DICK CLARK Continued, from page 60 P 86 in the cabinet, he’d have filed it under “A” — for Alligator or Animal. I’m sorry to say that we were wrong — we usually are where The Boss is concerned. In answer to our frantic wire he explained he had carefully put it under “R” — for Return. And then he said just what he’d said when he closed the door of the office and took off. “Remember, everyone, You’re supposed to know what you’re supposed to do while I’m away, so try, huh. Try.” And that’s why, though this is supposed to be Dick’s monthly column for Photoplay, we’re doing it instead. We’re pinchhitting for Dick and we know what to do. At least, that’s what Dick told us — twice. I guess we’d better introduce ourselves. There’s Marlene Teti, “Teti-Babe” for short. (I’m Dick’s gal Friday and he just couldn’t do without me.) Then there’s Joann Malfi. (I’m Teti-Babe’s assistant and she can’t do without me.) Next is Frances Gomel who opens the fan mail along with Christine Beteljeskie — (no one can do without us) and last is Tony Mammarella, the producer of the show ( I’m indispensable.) Oh yes, there’s also Richie Kenny, who helps Dick with the show and generally gets in everyone’s way. (Thanks for including me in. My pals!) That takes care of that. Now that you know about us, we suppose you’d like to know about the show or how it runs or something. Great! If you ever get this information would you be so kind as to send us an air mail-special delivery letter care of Station WFIL, Philadelphia, Pa.? We’ve been trying to find out how this show gets on the air day after day for quite a while now. It’s all because of this fellow, Dick Clark, The Boss. Take for instance a few weeks ago when, twenty minutes before show time, Richie Kenny slips on a tuna-fish sandwich (we think) and all the records he’s carrying for that day’s program are not only all jumbled and not in order but they are somewhat jagged (what with the scratches and downright smashed appearance of the entire lot). What does The Boss do? He scoops them up and makes a mad dash for the camera just in time to make the opening announcement that — “this afternoon is dedicated to those records that are pretty plotzed and they originate from Clark’s Cracked Corner. Won’t you spend the next few hours with us?” Man, did we ever have a time trying to keep up with the telephone inquiries on that show! Then there was the time Franny Gomel was opening some boxes that had come in from fans — all gifts for Dick — and she came across this one in particular from New Mexico. If had holes at each end and there was something rattling inside. We knew it just couldn’t be, so we told Franny to go ahead and open it and she did. That’s right. It was a real, live rattlesnake. Somehow the attached scribbled note saying it was “friendly and playful” and the boy’s “best friend” didn’t make Franny feel any better. Franny was going to quit there and then but Dick came in and convinced her the snake’s rattle was probably worse than his bite. This didn’t really carry too much weight with Franny, she was pretty shook up, so Dick went out and bought her a pair of heavy gloves and a welder’s mask. She looks pretty silly sitting at her desk in this get-up but Dick always introduces her to visitors with a straight face and never bothers to explain her appearance. You’d be surprised how quickly people leave the office. We’ve gotten used to ole Franny looking that way, day in and day out, out to tell the truth we’ve sort of forgotCn what she really looks like. Dick says she can come out for Valentine’s Day but we’re kind of worried. There’s no telling what Franny will do. The whole thing has really unnerved her. It’s really not that we don’t appreciate The Boss, it’s just that he has a pretty strange sense of humor. One thing sure. Any other job would be awful dull after being exposed to the Dick Clark personality. Who else would have two clocks in his office — one that tells the real time and the other that tells the time Dick wishes it were? Dick hates all the things that go into getting a show ready but he loves the show. Therefore he has the hands of this one clock turned to the time the show goes on the air. There’s been more than one member of the staff who’s walked by Dick’s office (this being an old battered wooden desk in one corner of the two-byfour room we all share), glanced at that darn clock, and almost fainted away. There it was show time and everyone was out to lunch. Or that terrible day Christine found the alligator in the filing cabinet. Well, she threatened to quit, too, but the rest of us convinced her Dick couldn’t have done it as a practical joke. Christine is still with us and as the days pass she becomes less bitter. Like all of us — she’s resigned. You’d think from the way we talk we were running a zoo or something, but that was just a time we had a run on “crawly” things. Dick is efficient in other matters, too. When Dick took off on vacation he made it very clear that he wanted all of us to work just as hard as if he were here; to be pleasant and helpful to all visitors to the office; to make sure that every phone call was answered promptly; and, above all, to clean up the place. We have tried! But there is a limit! People have been dropping by and we’ve been so “pleasant and helpful” no one will leave and the office is getting pretty jamed. As a matter of fact Richie had to move his desk outside. We have seven phones in the office and we’re trying to answer them all promptly, without letting the little red lights flash too long, but there’s a definite bottleneck and it’s Dick’s fault. More than half the calls are from Dick’s buddies calling to say they’re “just checking, at Dick’s request,” to make sure we’re on the ball and answering the phones. If it weren’t for Dick and his methods, we might be able to talk to those other people who have something to say. As for “cleaning up the place”— Dick will never recognize it. It used to be a real crazy purple, which gave the room a cavelike appearance and no one could see anyone else, but Dick said it was “soothing.” We couldn’t get him to change it — not even when he spent fifteen minutes dictating a letter to Joann only to find out she wasn’t there. He maintained we wouldn’t have to dust it as much as no one could see anyway. But that’s all changed in his absence. The room is now a beautiful flat white and although it doesn’t show as much imagination, at least we don’t bump into one another any more and we can see things like one another’s faces. We had to introduce ourselves all over again but really — it’s more friendly this way. We’ve had what might be called one major mishap in Dick’s absence but we’re sure it can be straightened out just as soon as The Boss returns to our mixedup midst. It all started innocentlv enough when Eddie Cochran stopped by a couple of days ago and we all had an impromptu session on that guitar of his. Anyone would consider this a part of the business even though it did shoot most of the afternoon. Unfortunately, it was about this time that some strange man stuck his head in the door and then made a hasty retreat muttering under his breath. The gentleman, we hope, doesn’t turn out to be the sponsor. We don’t think it was seeing Eddie Cochran strumming away as much as it was the rest of us. Franny was standing on top of a desk throwing mail up in the air and keeping perfect time. Joann and Richie were doing a very expert cha-cha. Christine was waltzing around the room with an oversize picture of Pat Boone, and “Teti-Babe” and Tony were taking turns on the guitar with Eddie and clacking a pair of false teeth in A-l harmony. We never did find out who the teeth belonged to. Anyway, knowing The Boss, he’ll straighten the whole misunderstanding out when he gets back. He’ll just tell the “big boys” upstairs we’re a hot, new singing group he’s discovered and that our particular style of rendition will add “spark” to the show. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again. One thing about Dick — he’s loyal! The only other misadventure we’ve had since The Boss took off was that, while we were redecorating, a little bit of paint splattered on the records and we can’t read the labels very well. However, Richie and Joann are playing each and everyone of them and re-labeling them. This takes quite a bit of time but it’s certainly nice to have the musical accompaniment as we type away. Actually, it really isn’t necessary for the kids to go to all that trouble because we had a similar accident a couple of years ago and Dick told everyone not to worry. “This afternoon’s show will just be a complete surprise to everyone and it will save me the trouble of announcing what’s coming up next,” said he, as he slunk into the studio. If we’re giving the impression that “American Bandstand” is run in a haphazard manner — we don’t mean to. It just comes out that way — so to speak. The Boss is a tireless worker and we try to be just like him. Sometimes, however, it’s a little difficult to “follow in his footsteps.” Tony Mammarella got caught in a tight squeeze once when he tried — and we mean tight squeeze. It was about the time Dick had taken to sitting under desks. Not that he was really comfortable in this position but he said he could “think better when I’m away from all the hustle and bustle of all the activity up there.” It was amazing how much work he could get done squatting there on his hind legs (you’ll excuse us if we make him sound like a retriever or something, but he really did look kind of forlorn down there all by himself) . Well, Tony decided that what was good for The Boss was good enough for him. We tried to discourage him ’cause we thought it might turn into a fad or office rule and everyone was going to end up sitting under desks and it’s quite difficult if you wear a dress but Tony insisted and wedged himself in. The only trouble was that Tony is a good fifty pounds heavier than Dick and somewhat taller and we nearly had to call the fire department to get him out. After this Dick made a valiant attempt to stay up in the higher altitudes with the rest of us — just to set an example — but he does have times when he can’t stand it