Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1948)

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"Sweet Mystery of Life," "Moonbeams," and similar melodious musical comedy numbers. He swims and rides, putters with engines and lathes and saws in his workshop, has flown his own plane for about nine years. He's crazy about old automobiles— has a 1905 White Steamer and a Stanley Steamer. He's a pretty good painter — does still life, portraits, most anything. And he's a bee-keeper. We have them right back of the swimming pool. WE live in a ten-room Mediterraneanstyle house, high on a hilltop, next to the old John Barrymore estate. The house is white stucco, with terra cotta shutters and tile roof. We have a big living room, predominantly green in color scheme. Candy's room has pale pink walls, with furniture sprayed to match. Charlie still has his own room, somewhat "reconverted" since Candy came along and usurped some of the space for her toys and other possessions. There's a cedar closet where Charlie hangs his hat — and all the sartorial splendors of his extensive wardrobe, including his Honorary Marine Corps Sergeant's uniform and his West Point Cadet regalia. Poor Mort needs no wardrobe for his two homespun suits! The playroom is Early American, with simple furniture and lots of copper and brass. It has a stage, where Edgar has been experimenting with new ideas and routines, which he tests for audience reaction. He and Charlie are talking television and they're ready to do their stuff on video any day. .That dear old girl, Effie Klinker, who worked with Edgar and the boys a while on his Sunday night NBC broadcasts, misses her glamorous past and wants to be in on the television highjinks. Edgar feels she has only to be seen to be appreciated. We have 16 and 35 mm. projectors in the playroom and Edgar likes to show pictures. His own movie favorites are Ingrid Bergman, Irene Dunne, Margaret Sullavan, Ronald Colman and Spencer Tracy. With so much talent to draw from among our friends, we have some wonderful extemporaneous entertainment at our parties — and of course the irrepressible Charlie always has his say. Most of our parties are small — a big one is usually for some special event. Besides our "collections," Edgar and I can't resist fine glassware and paintings. Last February we got some divine Bohemian wine glasses in New Orleans and now we have some handsome Swedish glass from Stockholm. We brought Meissen ware from Germany and some lovely antique jewelry from Paris. And one of our greatest treasures is a Pierre Bonnard painting of "Montmartre" which we got in Paris this summer. We have flower and vegetable gardens, a rose garden, and an unusual cactus garden next to the pool. Our house is built picturesquely around a patio, where we grow the biggest and most colorful geraniums I've ever seen. An outdoor barbecue at the Bergens' is apt to bring out lots of good old friends: Dinah Shore and George Montgomery, Georgia Carroll and Kay Kyser, the George Murphys, the Fred MacMurrays, the Freeman Gosdens, among others. EB likes to be barbecue chef, but his own food favorites are seafood, cheeses and fruit. Edgar's main interest, of course, is The Show. That comes before everything else. Writing days are Monday, Tuesday and Friday. Saturday is rehearsal, and again on Sunday, before showtime. Usually everything is pretty well lined up a few hours before he goes on the air, but sometimes there are last-minute changes. EB is extremely conscientious — therefore a perfectionist— therefore a worrier! Occasionally I go to a rehearsal. They are tense affairs at times, especially when the inevitable temperament is present, but they're mostly hard-work sessions — reading lines, cutting, editing, typing the script together, working it out to the last smartcrack. EB's ventriloquism, which is properly called "voice mimicry," provides some informal fun for us. For instance, we have one of those fanciful carved birds in a wooden cage, and Edgar confounds the dogs and our visitors by making the bird talk, sometimes in English and sometimes quite unexpectedly in Swedish. It was when he was twelve that Edgar discovered he could throw his voice successfully. The family was having dinner when he tried his skill. His mother went to the door, was mystified to find no one there, and he knew then that he could really "deceive" people. It's true that he had bought a "wizard's manual" of ventriloquism and magic, but he soon learned that much depended upon his own practice. His new-found talent and his stock of magic tricks helped pay school and college expenses from that time on, and got him the vaudeville and nightclub bookings that decided his career. Even after years of performances, it took Edgar a long time to realize how popular he and Charlie were. They had been on the radio for several months, on the Rudy Vallee program. They had won praise and awards for the novelty and originality of the act. Then Edgar was booked into the Wedgewood Room at the Waldorf, in New York. Before the deal was closed, Edgar told Ken Murray about it. Ken told him he was crazy to take the $400 offered. "Why, all those little dancers get at least $750, and you're worth more than they are. If you don't demand $750, and hold out for it," Ken threatened him, "you can stay away from me. I can't bother with small-timers," he taunted, trying to make Edgar realize his own importance. IT worked. EB went right back to his telephone and called his agent. "I want $750," he told him. "And don't come back at me, either, with a $700 offer. It's $750." And he got it. When I married Edgar I had been a model and a singer, and some of us girls in Hollywood used to get together and jest about the "big careers" we had given up for love. Then, a few years ago, I decided I wanted to do something on my own again. I opened a little dress shop in Beverly Hills and Edgar was enthusiastic about it, encouraging me every step of the way. But suddenly I realized it was beginning to run away with me, and with the time I should be giving to my home and family. So I gave up the shop. Being Mrs. Edgar Bergen, mother to Candice Patricia, and stepmama to the boys — and Effie — had become a fulltime job. My job — the very best one in the world for me.