Radio and television mirror (Jan-June 1950)

ii] 99 which is his favorite spot at Pickfair, when he said very casually: "By the way, dear, would you mind New York for a few months? The reaction I got back there was quite good." Mary would have been prepared to say, as she did, "Let's go!" even without knowledge of his New York success, for, as she says: "The most important thing in life to Buddy and me is each other. This means that I want to do and to have what he needs to do and to have. And Buddy wants the same for me. Happily, we almost always want to have things and do things together." It was just a matter of weeks after the Book Room conference that the Rogers family, together with Elizabeth Lewis, Mary's long-time good friend and secretary, left a partially closed Pickfair in care of a skeleton staff and arrived in New York. Fortunately, Mary really does like New York, having spent most of her childhood there. But even if I didn't like it," she says, "I'd have come. Buddy is working hard, very hard. His radio show, Pick A Date With Buddy Rogers, is on five mornings a week and he spends a lot of time planning his television show. When that gets underway, he'll be even busier. He needs the tranquillity that only his home and family can give." Like many another uprooted wife, Mary's efforts to find the home she wanted for her husband and children weren't easily realized. She finally found the right one — a very pleasant, not-too-large apartment, but it took a lot of doing. Real estate agents had determined among themselves, apparently, to show her nothing less, in size, than fifteen to thirty rooms and nothing less elaborate in decor than befitting the tenancy of, say, Marie Antoinette. Said one such agent of one such elegant establishment: "Very spacious, very rich, really quite, uh, chi-chi, don't you agree, Miss Pickford?" "I agree," she said, "and that's just why I am not interested." "But, Miss Pickford — " the young man demurred, looking more disillusioned than disappointed, "I had supposed that you and Mr. Rogers . . ." Mary didn't bother to explain to the frustrated fellow that Mr. Rogers is, at heart, a Kansas farmer and that the less he has of the "uh, chi-chi," in his surroundings, and in his life, the happier he is. Nor did she feel called upon to explain that what she now wants in her life is as little responsibility and as much fun as it is possible for her to have — and not only for herself, but for Buddy and the children, too. She did play with the notion of confessing to the baffled realtor that she and Buddy are planning a series of kitchen parties, maybe one or two a month while they are in New York, and that each guest will do whatever dish he or she does the best, and will also wash the dishes and put everything in apple pie order. But, as Mary knows so well, one of the great secrets of life is to exit gracefully from a situation, so she simply said: "I'm sorry, but what we are looking for in New York is a small apartR ment or house." And she added: "But small. Thank you, and goodbye." When Mary speaks of Buddy as a "Kansas farmer" at heart, she does not mean that he is a behind-the-plough 74 'My Buddy' (Continued from page 24) sort of farmer. So far as she knows, Buddy has no yearning to go back to the land. It's just that he is a simple, typically American man in many of his tastes. His favorite dinner is a good steak, any kind of potatoes, creamed corn and apple pie. He likes easy going clothes and not only likes, but loves a special pair of run-down slippers that have to be seen to be believed. While Mary is not sure that Buddy is really a Kansas farmer at heart, she is convinced that he is an Olathean at heart. Buddy was born in Olathe, Kansas, went to school in Olathe and graduated from the University of Kansas. He believes that Olathe is practically the heart of the nation (as a matter of geographical fact, it is) and certainly Olathe and memories of the good people of the town are in his heart. Olathe, indeed, was the cause of one of the worst frights of Mary's life. "Buddy is practically never late for dinner," she explains, "or, if he knows he's going to be late, he never fails to call. In all the years we have been married, in fact, I can remember only one night when he was late and didn't call to tell me why. After an hour had passed and no word from him, I began to be very nervous. After three hours, I was on the verge of calling the hospitals and the police when in he walked. "He was really stricken when he saw my frightened face. 'Terribly sorry, darling,' he apologized, 'but you see, this fellow from Olathe . . .' 'Friend of yours?' I interrupted, still smarting from plain scare. 'Well, not exactly, but his great-uncle loaned my grandfather a team of mules and helped him bring in the crop. So when I ran into him downtown today, found him in a jam and needing someone to go bond for him, why, of course . . .' Now what could I say but 'of course,' too?" Buddy not only acts charitably towards his fellow man, he is charitable. Mary says he will not gossip and will not listen to gossip. "If I make even the mildest criticism of anyone," she says, "he will stop me, saying 'Darling, you will learn that she's not at all the way you think and then you'll be sorry.' "Only once since I've known Buddy have I ever heard him express dislike for any person and funny as it was, I was quite shocked. We were dining out one night and suddenly Buddy whispered in my ear, 'I'm looking at a man at the next table and I just hate him!' 'Do you know him?' I whispered back. 'No,' he said, 'but if I did, I suppose I'd think he was all right.' "But don't think that Buddy's all angel," she will tell you. "Imagine me living with anyone with wings! He's not much of a flower-sender or gift giver, but then anniversaries mean little to us. Very often when my birthday comes around, it's close to Easter and I'm likely to get a basket of bunnies or eggs! When he does give gifts — and this I must tell on him — they are distinctly odd. One of the first things he ever gave me was a kimona, magenta lined with purple. On the Queen of the Nile, it might have looked effective. But on me — can you imagine! "Another one of his early gifts to me was an airplane. This was just before the war and Buddy himself had only been flying a short time. Since the plane was a present to me, I felt beholden to fly with him. Greater love hath no wife for her husband than when she goes up in the air with him when he's not too sure how to land. "Of course, it wasn't long before he became an expert aviator. During the war, you know, he was a Navy pilot." Buddy is very conscious of Mary's clothes — a new hat or dress and he spots, it instantly. He usually prefers her in dark clothes, navy or black. He doesn't like her to wear platform shoes, but Mary compromises and only wears them with evening clothes. "Actually, I never wear anything I know Buddy doesn't like," says Mary. As a father, Buddy gets top rating from Roxanne and Ronald. He plays tennis with Ronnie, swims with both children and can be depended on when allowances are in straits. But Buddy believes, like his own father, in obedience and respect from his children. And with two such lively children, there are times when Buddy has to take certain measures to get it. Discipline in the Rogers household is usually defined by depriving the children of Saturday movies or the use of their bicycles. Mary and Buddy have found these methods to be sure-fire behavior restoratives. While Roxanne and Ronald are adopted children in the legal sense, Mary and Buddy feel that the adoption process worked just the opposite way. "The children adopted us," Mary will tell you. "The California law provides that a child can make his own choice after a year. That is, if he doesn't want to stay with you, he's free to leave. So we feel that Roxanne and Ronald adopted us as their mother and father. "And," she adds, "we're very happy that they did!" Much as the children loved life at Pickfair, they're finding New York a happy substitute. Roxanne is enrolled at a private day school, Ronnie in a boarding school which is near enough to New York to enable him to come home on weekends. Together they've been exploring the enchanting pleasures of the city — the zoo at Central Park, the ancient wonders in the Museum of Natural History, the Statue of Liberty and all the other time-honored sights of New York. But there's one treat that means even more to them than the magic of the city and that's the special privilege of being allowed to stay up to have dinner with Daddy. In time, perhaps, Buddy's schedule will enable the Rogers to return to Pickfair. But in the busy months to come, Mary feels that Buddy will benefit more by the presence of his family. Professionally, too, Mary feels that he will benefit by her nearness. "I try to be to Buddy what Mother was to me — a person upon whose fair and loving advice I could always depend," she explains. "While Mother would give me full share of praise, she also would point out any weak spots in my performance. And she was most critical of my personal appearance. I can hear her saying now, 'Darling, you look like a catfish today. Recomb your curls, powder your nose and change that dress. You might meet a fan.' " America's Sweetheart — and she still can qualify for that title — tries to take an impersonal, sincere look at her husband's performance. And that look, like the critics', finds something slightly sensational.