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HOLLYWOOD
Continued from page 63
Let me tell you about what happened at Schwab’s. It might explain the place and me — and Hollywood.
Because I get mail, messages, phone calls and visitors at Schwab’s, they have supplied me with an office. It’s a way of keeping my mail, messages, phone calls, visitors and me from getting mixed up with the prescriptions, perfumes, cosmetics, etc. This office is at the extreme rear of the store, and is perched on a ledge about a flight of stairs above the main floor of the store.
What’s really important is the fourth wall, which isn’t really a wall. It’s a large glass window. This glass window is the prize of the office, because it overlooks the entire store. People in the store who look up see only the attractive grey-cloth curtains. They don’t know there is an office behind those curtains, and that often in this office I’m behind these curtains, unseen, watching them.
It’s a wonderful feeling.
I watch the floor show at Schwab’s nightly. The cast of characters changes hourly. And what a cast! The minute you
Everyone was whispering about Shirley.
enter the store you’re part of the floor show. I was sitting up in my office when the pharmacist downstairs buzzed me and then said to me on the phone, “There’s a Shirley MacLaine down here asking if you’re around. What will I tell her?” I took a quick peep. Sure enough — “a Shirley MacLaine” was the MacLaine, as if there could be another. “Send her up,” I said.
Shirley had a Japanese woman friend with her and was showing her the sights of Hollywood, meaning, Shirley hastened to explain, Schwab’s and the office — not me. After some polite laughter and pleasant remarks, I decided to entertain Shirley and her guest. I told them about the innocentlooking grey curtains and allowed them to stand in front of them and look down at the store and the people. Shirley and her friend watched the guys and dolls reading the magazines, spraying themselves with the sample perfume, etc.
“This is great fun!” declared the Japanese woman. “It is better than standing in the footprints at Grauman’s Chinese. Besides, I could not find a pair to fit.”
My size isn’t there either,” wowed Shirley.
Later, Shirley MacLaine and her friend P left, Shirley asking if she could come back another night for the floor show. From force of habit, I peered from behind the grey curtains. The cast of the floor
show now included Shirley MacLaine and the Japanese woman, spraying themselves with the sample perfume.
And that’s how the rumor started. The next day, everyone was asking me if it was true; if I knew what Shirley was up to. You see, the perfume she chose was “My Sin.”
Schwab’s closes at midnight. The cast of characters moves onward and upward to join other characters. I mean, they move upward a few blocks onto the famous Sunset Strip and one of the many coffee houses which reveal The Strip after dark.
The Strip is a unique stretch of road (1.8 mile rialto between Hollywood and Beverly Hills) where the swank restaurant, LaRue’s (where Cary Grant or Doris Day may be dining) rubs elbows with a coffee house (Unicorn) or an all-night shortorder restaurant. Tops (where Ricky Nelson or Judi Meredith can be waiting for the group). People used to sneed on The Strip to get from Beverly Hills to Hollywood and vice versa. Today, The Strip, with its swank shops, its office buildings, its talent agencies and its nightlife, is as important as Beverly Hills, more important than Hollywood.
The Strip, with its sidewalk cafes, has taken on a Continental atmosphere and looks like old Vienna — or so I’m told.
I know the coffee houses have supplied a great need for the young players as well as the beatniks: it has given them a place to meet. The coffee house is just another form of the Lonely Hearts Club. People, young and old, become lonely and they like to gather and chat. There comes that hour when people need people and not another TV program.
The two most popular coffee houses on The Strip are Chez Paulette and Cyrano’s. But don’t go there expecting to see the big-name movie stars. They — and I mean John Wayne, Kirk Douglas, Kim Novak, Tony Curtis and even Jayne Mansfield— only go there on special occasions: with a visitor from home, for instance. The coffee houses, for the main, are freauented by beatniks, fringe characters, and the kids. The younger players, such as Tuesday Weld, George Hamilton, Linda Hutchings, Mickey Callan, Barrie Chase, can be found at these Strip coffee houses. Many of the younger players come here on a Tuesday night, after their drama class, or on a Friday night, which happens to be the big date night out here.
There are exceptions, however. Marlon Brando, when not deeply engrossed in something, wanders the coffee house circuit. Sometimes, Marlon comes to these crowded coffee houses to take a table and be alone; other times, he is with his friends, Sam Gilman, Lisbeth Hush and Carlo Fiori. In fact, Marlon was a shill for a coffee house. He put over the Chez Paulette. Because Marlon went there a few nights a week, the place became packed. The Brando disciples didn’t know when their Marlon would be there, so, to make sure, they were present every night.
Marlon and his group now frequent Cyrano’s, which is run by Jack Klotz and features good food and good manners. It is said that the place is frequented by “neat beatniks.”
Before leaving The Strip, I must tell you about Dino’s, which is featured in the TV series “77 Sunset Strip.” Don’t expect to find Dean Martin dining here nightly. He seldom puts in an appearance, and, if the truth must be known, Dino dines most often at home. Or else, he can be found at friend Frank Sinatra’s (and Peter Lawford’s) place, Puccini’s, or at the Villa Capri, or at La Scala.
Tourists coming to town are surprised
to discover that “77 Sunset Strip” is not actually next door to Dino’s, and that the exact number on the awning next door is 8532. The building next door is not the home of those never-failing private eyes, Efrem Zimbalist. Jr. and Roger Smith, but the home of another type agency — the Mary Webb Davis Model agency.
There are some things for real in this supposed make-believe town that both tourist and resident should take in if he or she is to know the town well. First, there are the empty footprints in the forecourt of Grauman’s Chinese Theater. Those footprints now cost $150 to be firmly imprinted there in cement. It is still the desire of those aspiring to fame to stand in the footprints of the mighty and try them on for size— regardless of how corny these hip IN people might say it is. So go ahead and do it, if you feel like it, on your trip to Hollywood.
I know this story to be true. It happened a few years ago when, after making “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,” Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell both put their footprints into the forecourt of Grauman’s Chinese. A few nights later, after the cement had dried and hardened, Marilyn made a trip to Grauman’s Chinese. Hollywood Boulevard was empty and deserted, except for a few slim-hipped chaps cruising in their sports cars. It was about two in the morning when Marilyn parked her car, walked over to her own footprints, and stood in them.
“I waited a long time to get them there.
I wanted the thrill of standing in my own footprints,” said Marilyn.
Then, she got back into her car and drove home and slept the sleep of the contented. How do I know this? The lady told me so herself the next day when, as usual, I was hitch-hiking.
I don’t drive. I am chauffeured to one of the studios by my wife, Estelle, deposited, and left on my own. From now on, and sometimes it goes on until two or three in the morning, I am on my own.
I haven’t driven a car for all the years I have covered the Hollywood Beat. I can’t drive. And don’t tell me how easy and simple it is! All the improvements of the auto manufacturers haven’t solved the driving problem for me, yet. But I admire them and thank them for keeping on trying.
I seldom take taxis — only when real stuck — because I feel that is something akin to cheating. Anyone can phone for a cab (the biggest taxi service in town is the Yellow Cab) or take a bus (there are lots of them; to find out which goes where just call Richmond 7-4455).
But the actors, actresses, secretaries, starlets, grips, have come to know that I don’t drive. And I have come to know the departing time and the direction the various actors, actresses, secretaries, etc. will be driving. It has worked out very well, and there have been only a few times that I’ve been left stranded in the chill night air.
This not-driving-a-car, I have found to be an asset, although it was not planned this way when I started columning. It isn’t that I obtain any stop-the-press scoops from my celebrity chauffeurs, but I often hear some interesting chatter. More important is the background knowledge I acquire from my chauffeurs. I say there’s nothing like riding with a movie star to know a movie star, well — almost nothing like it.
I was given a lift by Gary Cooper when he drove a streamlined sports car and liked to feel the breeze push against his face. Gary, let me tell you, had more than “Yup” to say to other drivers on the road. Today’s speed-boy is Steve McQueen and he gets a charge when he charges that motor