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Larry’s back at work — with
a song on his lips, a new contract in
his pocket — and Betty at his side
BY LARRY PARKS
GO to church, work hard, marry a good Lutheran girl, and everything will always come out all right,” my mother used to say. That was Mother’s commendable, if simplified, solution for whatever the future hatfded me.
As it turned out, it handed me plenty. Not all of it too good. And I’ve had occasion to remember her philosophy.
Well, I like to think I spent the last year and a half as constructively as possible. And happy days are here again. It looks like the Parkses are in for a much happier new year.
For us, this New Year’s Eve fell in September — the afternoon I signed a new five-year contract with Columbia Studios which terminated long months of controversy. Under the new contract, I will make one picture a year for Columbia, which can cover a period of seventeen weeks. The other thirty-five, I’m a free agent. I can make my own commitments with other studios, stand on my own judgment, together with Betty and our manager, Lou Mandel, have my own independent producing company . . . which has long been my tall dream.
To one long accustomed to a sequence of bad breaks, it seemed nobody could ask Fate for more. Not even on both knees. Betty and I celebrated the beginning of our New Year — strictly Parks-style. No night club. No confetti, horns or noise-makers. The last eighteen months had been plenty noisy enough. We bought a bottle of champagne, put on our best blue jeans, hoisted our sleeping bags into the car and headed for the beach cottage of our best friends, the Lloyd ( Continued on page 92)
Betty just grins and bears it when Larry blasts out with the Jolson tunes. They’re planning to co-star ' in his first producing venture
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