TV Radio Mirror (Jan - Jun 1963)

Record Details:

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NEW DESIGNS FOR LIVING 7436 — Embroider Bushy Squirrel and little friends on quilt or carriage cover for baby. Transfer of nine 5 x 7-inch motifs;directions. 7241 7241 — Embroider these spotted hunters in taupe, brown and black. Use one for pillow top, frame the other for picture. Two dog transfers; full directions included. 7484 — Pretty Dutch dolls with potholder skirts. Hang near stove for convenience. Skirts button off to become potholders. Transfers; complete directions. CATALOG Over 200 Designs T V R 70 Patterns are twentyfive cents each. Send orders (with coin) to: TV RADIO MIRROR, Needlecraft Service, P. O. Box 137, Old Chelsea Station, New York II, New York, add 10? each for Istclass mailing. Send 25? for Needlecraft Catalogue. California residents add sales tax. tering my head, trying to break down the wall between me and anyone who rejected me. It was as if my parents' love wasn't enough for me. No matter how much love I received, I wanted more." When Earl was thirteen, his adoptive father died. A dream he discussed with the doctor brought back to Earl some of the long-forgotten details of that tragedy . . . and the fact that every child interprets the death of a loved one as a kind of desertion, a rejection. "It was a terrible dream. Something about an atom bomb. I was talking to a girl and the bomb fell — and my lungs were being eaten up by radiation. When I woke up, I suddenly remembered that I had been talking to a girl when my mother told me my father had just had his first epileptic seizure. "As I began to tell the analyst about my father's death, suddenly I remembered that a wreath fell off his coffin at the funeral . . . and then, for the first time. I started to cry." The pain . . . and the pleasure Analysis was not easy. Sometimes, the sessions left Earl feeling warm and wonderful, "as if the hour was a precious jewel." More often — when hidden sores were touched — they were painful. But slowly, in these sessions, the seeds of understanding grew. "I began to see why I went into acting, in the first place. As a child, I went to the movies all the time, and I worshiped those people on the screen. They were bigger than life-size, and they had what I wanted: Adoration. If I could be like them — loved by millions of people— maybe that would fill the void in me that cried out for more love, more love." But acting was no escape. "An actor is like an oyster: Everyone sticks a fork into you! A picture bombs out and the critics paste you. There's a part you want — and your agent tells you the studio wants George Peppard. This is a business where, every day, someone rejects you for something. Even people like Charlton Heston get rejected! "A long time ago, some friends advised me to go into analysis because they believed it would help me feel better about being an actor. I'm beginning to see they were right." Out of the painful sessions, something good was coming. Little things, for example : "I used to be terribly shy, especially about being a celebrity. I hated the idea of going to premieres — even though I knew publicity was important— because it seemed so phony. I thought I'd look like a phony. Now, all of a sudden, I get a kick out of that sort of thing. I went to one premiere in a 1929 Packard touring car I rented, just to make sure I'd stand out! I'm not afraid to be different anymore!" Big things: "It's hard to talk about, but I've become more understanding. I used to eat myself up resenting a certain actor ... an 'operator' who climbed up on everyone's back. I wanted to expose him. I hated his success. But it's not so easy, anymore, to simply think of him as a no-good louse. Maybe his needs are even greater and more complicated than mine. It's not my business, at all, to reveal someone else's fault." And the biggest thing of all: "I've become more forgiving toward myself. For example, just a short time ago, I gave a party for a girl I used to date. She'd made a name since then, become a star. I worked for a week to decorate the house with a European atmosphere — posters and so on — and then only invited her friends, so she'd be sure to have a ball. "But when it was all over, I started asking myself why I'd done it. It couldn't have been just to make her happy — I know a lot of people who'd have got more pleasure from having someone throw them a party. No, I had done it for me — to impress people with how well I knew this girl . . . just because she was a star!" As usual, Earl plunged into an agony of selfaccusation. He was just as big a phony as everyone else. He was "using" people. He was ashamed of himself. But now, instead of brooding about it for weeks, he had the doctor to discuss it with. And he had a new thought to bring to the matter: "Look, from now on, let's say I'm only going to give parties — give myself — to people I genuinely like. But what if they also happen to be people who can help me in my career? Do I have to avoid them just so I won't accuse myself of 'using' them?" In the course of one session, the answer became clear for the first time: Everybody uses everybody, one way or another. A friend gets a job or a date through a friend . . . and, if the friendship is real, the one who's "used" gets a glow from having helped a friend. It's all part of the warm, wonderful way the world keeps going. And so a pebble slid off the manmade mountain on Earl's back. Today, more pebbles are gone. But the mountain is still there. . . . "If I'm lucky enough" "Sometimes it scares me. I run into another actor and ask, 'How long have you been in therapy? He answers casually, 'Oh, seven years.' I think, Seven years! That's a long, long time. "But then I say to myself, 'Look, you were thirty-three years getting into this shape. You can't get out of it in a couple of months!' " So the difficult, often painful work of analysis goes on. But, to Earl Holliman, it is worth it. "I know now that many of my relationships aren't as deep as I thought. There's a cold void inside me which many people have. Those of us who have it ... we love as deeply as we can — but we work toward the day when it will be much more than that. When my analysis is finished, I'll be able to love far more completely. "If I'm lucky enough to meet another girl as wonderful as the one I knew in Europe ... I won't have to be afraid. I'll be truly ready for marriage." — Leslie Valentine Earl stars in "Wide Country," NBC-TV, Thurs., from 7:30 to 8:30 P.M. EST.