Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1952)

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Just select style ring, send together with this ad — name, address, ring size and 00c coin or money order. ACT NOW! Guarantee: 10 Day Money Back If Not Satisfied. Simmons Co., 149 Church St. Annex 0«pt. 0778 Ht« York I, N. T. ONLY 50?. POSTPAID Nothing More to Pag — Evert It's a Big, Wide, Wonderful World ( Continued, from page 49) only stop and think. There they go, always in a hurry, always feeling sorry for themselves over every little thing.” “There they go,” Doris thought, and found herself adding that old, old phrase, “and there but for the grace of God. . .” There might have gone Doris Day, but now it was different. With Marty, she could stop and think — and live. Here was her long-sought happiness, a thing called love. First, however, it had been necessary to learn the lessons that were to prepare her for her life as Mrs. Marty Melcher. The change in Doris was internal, “in my head,” as she puts it. There should be a dramatic phrase to describe any process with such dramatic results as are visible to anyone who has known this girl “before and after.” She is relaxed, confident, more beautiful than she ever was, shining with an inner light. But Doris, characteristically, understates it: “I changed,” she says, “because, at last, I learned to think positively.” To "have everything,” she had first to know that one can — and should — have everything. And she applies this to everyone. “You don’t have to depend on anyone else for fulfilment; happiness comes from inside.” Unhappiness, too, Doris insists. “Look at the unhappy people you know —the discontented self-pitying people putting a premium on the unattainable, wanting always something that someone else has (I know, because I was the same way); the frightened people who read in the paper about some new horror men have invented to destroy one another and stop living today because they’re so terrified of tomorrow. They’re victims of their own envies and fears and hostilities,” Doris says, “and they needn’t be.” Her own emancipation has convinced her. "We’re so unsure, sometimes, of what we really want, and so blindly ungrateful for what we have.” Doris had a career — she wanted a solid marriage. She doesn’t believe she was ever a real career girl. She sings and dances — and always has — for the fun of it. If she didn’t like making pictures she’d quit, no matter how much it cost in money and material things. “I wasn’t always that smart — that honest, rather,” she confesses. “I used to believe that one had to ‘make good’ no matter how unhappy one grew in the process. I know better now. “Now I think anyone who doesn’t enjoy what he is doing shoidd make a change. We don’t really know what life is unless we can enjoy it. We weren’t put here to have trouble and strife. Life should be wonderful, and is. “But so many times we keep on doing something we hate, something we’re not right for and which is not right for us, pushing and straining and never quite succeeding. “And then, perhaps, we’re fired — or divorced— and instead of being grateful that we’re free — we feel defeated, perhaps even betrayed.” Doris has known what it meant to be unhappily married — and fired. She was a vocalist on a popular radio show when the agency politely announced that she was being “replaced.” “But let’s face it,” she says, “I was fired.” Now she realizes that it was the best thing that could have happened to her. At the time, she was heartbroken. Her pride was hurt. A good friend talked with her when she was most downhearted. “Don’t you know,” she asked her kindly, “that man’s extremity is God’s opportunity?” “I know now,” Doris grins ruefully. “We’re stubborn creatures though. Seems to me that God has to shove us and shove us before we’re willing to let Him have a hand at straightening things out. And we don’t even have the decency, sometimes, to be grateful when He does. I thought I was being pushed around, when I was being guided.” Doris was thinking differently about things before Marty Melcher loomed in her life as the one man she had been looking for during all those years of confusion and unhappiness. Otherwise, she admits, she never would have known he was the “right guy.” With Marty, she says, every area of her life is miraculously easier. She used to worry about the “problems” of her young son, ten-year-old Terry. “Little boys,” she recalls, “can get into some big fights. They fuss and they fume, and they end up not speaking to one another. “Terry used to come home occasionally bristling with his grudges, storming ‘I’m never gonna play with him anymore!’ “And how did he end up? Sitting at home alone. It worried me, and I told Marty about it.” The next time it happened Marty took Terry — who adores Marty, happily— right back outside, found the current enemy and sat them both down together. “Now,” Marty told them, “we’re going to hold court. You can tell me your side, and then Terry will tell me his. You’re your own lawyers, see — I’ll be the judge.” The kids enjoyed playing court so thoroughly that they forgot to be mad — and Judge Melcher soon was able to slip away unnoticed. “There were only one or two crises after that,” Doris says, “and then, I think, only as a lure to get Marty to come out and play again.” The Melchers had another “crisis” about their new house. “It’s always about the little things,” Doris confesses. Soon after their marriage they moved to a big, homey Colonial house only two blocks from the studio in one of the Marty-inspired moves to make Doris’ double life — at home and on the set — as pleasant as possible. They proceeded to redecorate — the walls downstairs had been a deep green which they found depressing. Doris proceeded to choose a paler blue shade and supervised the painting herself. Horrors! The blue was even worse than the green. “It’s the house,” Doris wailed. "I just don’t like the house!” “It’s not the house,” Marty reminded her gently. “Remember, it’s all in your head.” So they called in a professional decorator, Catherine Armstrong, who proceeded to turn the place into the embodiment of their fondest dreams .of home. “And we made a wonderful new friend in Catherine — as if the beauty she created weren’t enough.” The major rooms of the house are being decorated in the French provincial period with the principal color a warm, friendly bisque, with accents of cranberry and turquoise. The porch overlooking the garden is being glassed in for a playroom, which will be furnished with the Early American pieces Doris had collected before her marriage. “It’s big and informal and is going to be just great for the children,” she glows. And then she catches herself, blushing like