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Texas Guinan Pans Hollywood
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pavilion for a banquet in her honor. Aimee McPherson, the "hip-hip-hooray" evangelist, found herself too busy to call, although she had gone to the Guinan's club in New "York. Even Tijuana evinced no interest in a proposed visit from her. and the Foothill Breakfast Club, at Arcadia, withdrew an invitation asking her to be its guest. A few other things like this happened, and pretty soon Texas began to get mad.
"Say, tell me something," she said. "Just what is this TNT effect I seem to have? Every time I go some place I get into trouble, or get somebody else into trouble. I'm not Uncle Sam's worst girl by any means ! I may be his most mischievous, but I'm not his enemy. What's it all about?"
Somewhat bewildered by the crashing of castles and the closing of gates, Miss Guinan called in the overambitious press agent who had tried to maneuver all these affairs, and held conversation with him — a dialogue which has not been repeated.
Warner Brothers, with whom Texas is under contract, let it be known that they had nothing to do with plans for her entertainment. Conrad Nagel announced that he had been named on the reception committee without his consent, so presently Texas had something to say. She'd heard enough talk and had been buffeted sufficiently. The rollicking, wise-cracking, vivacious queen of the night clubs unloaded her mind. But not until she had been in Hollywood for about three weeks, visited its clubs, and learned about its ways. Then, in her dressing room at the studio, she delivered her oration. The glamour of movieland had gone.
"Hollywood is the most beautiful spot in America," said Texas, "with the most provincial people on earth, victims of restlessness, discontent, and chasing phantoms and rainbows.
"In this little, old town they don't know how to play. They don't know how to enjoy themselves. People pay $100,000 for my entertainments in New York, but when I come out here and want to give them something for nothing, they don't like it, and then fight like cats. Some people — and I'm not mentioning any names — are so narrow-minded their ears overlap.
"The loneliest man in New York is a millionaire, whose pockets are stuffed with money, and with no place to go. That's the way they are out here. Something cramps 'em.
"I never saw so many laws in all my life. How dare they tell you that you have to »o home at 1 a. m. ? Whose business is it
Here she is seen in one of her early Westerns, with Helen Ferguson.
zvhcn you go home?"
"When do night clubs close in New York?" I inquired, recalling that Federal agents had padlocked her club.
"From now on!" replied Texas. "The trouble," she continued, "is that your lawmakers haven't got the lungs to make laws to fit people. They take away your private automobiles out here, they tell me, if the cops find you carrying a drink. Think of it ! I've been out to your night clubs, and say ! the checks the patrons pay look like street-car transfers. Seems like every one has about one shirt and one dollar, and they never change either. It takes money to buy fun."
"But they have fun at Hollywood parties," I suggested.
"Yeah," retorted Tex, "they do ! Listen ! I rented Marie Prevost's home. Marie went to Salt Lake City to make a picture. One evening I invited fifty guests to dinner. Two hundred and forty-nine came, and there were seventy-five still there for breakfast in the morning. When anybody sees as many as five cars parked in front of a Hollywood home, he says, 'Oh, there's a party on. Let's go in !' And in they stalk. That's Hollywood ! Anything for free entertainment!
"Everybody knows everybody else's business. If you get an idea in the morning, unless you sew a button on it, it's all over town by night.
"It's all so terrible ! This is the Riviera of America, but what do you do with it ? Shut up shop at 1 a. m. ! Your city officials are trying to take all the joy out of
living — all the spirit out of Los Angeles. An indiscretion a day keeps depression away — isn't that true? But what are your indiscretions ? You have liaisons as thick as blades of grass. I never saw the equal. It's because no one knows what else to do. There's no such thing as innocent fun.
"Why doesn't Los Angeles and Hollywood learn how to live?
"Remember, I was in Hollywood in the good old days when every one got something out of each passing day. I was with the old Triangle company in 1917, then for five years I made pictures of my own — horse operas — two hundred and twelve in all. They've reissued them ten times and they're going big. I was the first twogun woman in films. I was a sort of a successor to Bill Hart. Because I was born and reared on a ranch near Waco, Texas, and could ride and rope, they thought I was a sensation.
"An executive of the Triangle company came to me one day and said they wanted to make a snow picture. 'We've got ten trees and barrels of salt,' he said. 'That's sufficient.' 'Why not go into Bear Valley,' I suggested, 'and get real snow and trees?' 'Well,' he said, 'do you think you could act if you had a forest around you?'
"I got his inference. There was an inkwell handy Continued on page 119