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Is it
D-DAY
again for Doris?
This past September, a tall girl with yellow-butter hair and a church-supper face powdered with freckles like a cinnamon bun stood up in her box seat at the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball stadium and did a curious thing, even for a rabid Dodger fan. As if in defiance of the photographer who was training his Speed Graphic on her — and perhaps even of the world — this girl, with a glint of rampant mischief in her eyes, blew up the wad of bubble gum in her mouth into a huge pink balloon that seemed to say, “Well, okay, pal; you want my picture? Get this!”
The lady with the bubble gum was, as it happened, a customarily reserved and even curiously shy Beverly Hills matron of thirty-eight named Mrs. Martin Melcher, the mother of a twentyyear-old son (by the first of three marriages) ; the possessor, with her current husband, of some $6,000,000, give or take a bank account or two — and not the type of person who would ordinarily stick her tongue out at anybody.
But then Mrs. Melcher — or actress Doris Day, as she is better known almost everywhere — was apparently on the brink of one of the more critical moments in her life.
“Call me crazy, if you like,” said a Hollywood observer, “but when those separation rumors about Doris and Marty began popping up just a few weeks later, I remembered that cocky, almost defiant picture of Doris with the bubble gum, and I thought to myself, ‘Well, this is a doll who no longer cares if school keeps.’ Maybe I was reading things into that gesture, but add two and two in Hollywood — and you always get five.”
The Melcher separation rumors and Doris’ bit with the bubble