Screenland (Feb-Oct 1949)

learned to absorb the news. Actually, parents go through a constant refresher course with their children. One day Melinda wanted some assistance with her algebra, and I tried to help After a half-dozen tries, I realized that my mathematical ability had diminished considerably, and finally the cook helped her. Since that time, however, I've gone back to the book and brushed up, and I find that algebra is a lot more fun than I ever remembered its being. Too, the fact that I couldn't assist Melinda gave me a feeling of helplessness which stimulated me to do something about it. It's the same with sports. I learned to swim because I felt left out of things whenever the girls were having fun around the pool, and very shortly I discovered that as my physical stamina increased, I developed a curiosity about other things in which I hadn't been particularly interested. Melinda and Diana love to ride, and when they'd come home from the stables with their discussions about gaits, hands, and the various types of saddle horses, once again I was on the outside. It was an easy matter to find a book on this subject, and once I understood the basic fundamentals of good horsemanship, talking about it was a pleasure which I hadn't even suspected existed. Melinda and Stephanie have given me a deeper appreciation of the various types of music. Once upon a time my preference was strictly for the classical school, but Melinda has taught me that good jazz is a form of music which has its own place in American culture. She has shown me how to look for the distinguishing traits of good popular musicians and orchestras, and how to evaluate them. Naturally, if it hadn't been for her, I'd never even have bothered, and would have clung to my preferences for Brahms, Beethoven, and Bach. Stephanie, on the other hand, is in the growing stage as far as music is concerned, and I've been selecting the types for which I feel she should develop an Claudetre Colbert' with Cigi Perreau, new wonder child, on "Family Honeymoon" set. early love. But, in listening to these same selections with her, I find that my own appreciation has increased, because I listen with both her ears and mine. When she becomes ecstatic over a tune for which I'm not particularly fond, I begin to wonder if I've missed something, and I give it closer attention. And nine times out of ten, when I listen with this attitude, I discover that the selection had a charm which I had completely missed previously. Not long ago Stephanie taught me how to enjoy a television broadcast. Ordinarily I would cast a half-interested glance on the screen, and concentrate primarily on the listening. I suppose that's a habit which most of us have built from long practice. We're still not accustomed to looking at as well as listening to the radio. To Stephanie, the image on the screen is the important thing, which she regards as a personal element addressed strictly to her. She chats with the performer, and one evening she even wore a special Chinese costume to show a favorite performer. In other words, she makes the subject so alive that any mystery of mere technical radio is completely erased. Melinda and Stephanie have taught me a good deal about food, and they've developed an interest in the factors of a good diet for me. Because I wanted to make their meals attractive to them, I began studying recipes and charts, and before I was aware of it, I was collecting cooking hints with considerable enthusiasm. This, in turn, I incorporated into the menus for my husband and my older daughter, so that in the long run our dinner table sessions took on an importance to which we all looked forward. It's odd how one little item can branch out into something that touches everyone around you. I've learned from my girls that subtlty and fairness is one of the most effective methods of solving a problem, and in the long run, it's the happiest. When a mother feels that a daughter's current beau isn't up to the standards she'd like him to be, for instance, it's up to her to study him through her daughter's eyes. Then, if she is still dissatisfied, she should hold a conference with her daughter and balance the arguments which both put forward. In this way, mothers often are shown that times change and that frequently certain modes of etiquette which she once considered important, especially in courtship, are now outmoded. Mothers can see, through their daughters' outlook, the many little things which they missed in their youth, and there's not a reason in the world why they can't do some reliving of the lost moments. They add zest to each day, and it certainly gives them a toehold on a fresh and youthful attitude. I'm grateful to my daughters because they have given me so much. I have their love, which I like to think I've earned from measuring up to their standards and not mine, and because of this, they've made a happier home for my husband and me. Within our four walls, we live a full, pleasant life based on a mutual understanding, appreciation, and respect. In coupling my reactions to daily existence with theirs, my daughters have helped me keep my own character pliable to the times, from which I have gained flexibility which I'm sure I might never have achieved if all my interests were centered on myself alone. They have given me an emotional stability and a receptivity, and as I've said, I've learned so much more about music, current events, history, religion, and an enjoyment of sports and outdoor life from them. They taught me simply by their good examples. When you sum it all up, the most precious gift I've received from my girls is the gift of love based on an emotional dependence. In our mutual associations, we've given and taken freely of this, and happily I've long ago discovered that when a mother loves and encourages her family with a sincere devotion, in return she herself gains a stature she would never have won in any other way. Best of all, as long as she maintains this understanding relationship with her girls, she never stops learning! Newest Bombshell Continued from page 38 cigarette nonchalantly tucked into the corner of her mouth. She smokes in real life, so she was able to do it all right. But when she first viewed herself in the projection room, dodging clouds of smoke which persisted in getting into her eyes, trying to look as if she invariably did same in her moments of leisure, she howled. The public didn't howl, we should say here, rapidly. The public thought Barbara did just fine and proved it by writing her letters of congratulation. And the studio also thought she was o.k. — as an actress, that is. Mr. Zanuck and his cohorts decided the girl really had something if she could make that part believable, but at the same time felt that she shouldn't overdo it. Thus, acting on the first premise, they put Barbara into "Unfaithfully Yours," directed by Preston Sturges, into "Letter To Three Wives," and into "Mother Was A Freshman." In the latter film, she went back to normal with a bang: She played the college roommate of Loretta Young's daughter, a kid who had never heard of anything more slinking than a Sloppy Joe. Barbara herself is a happy medium between these two characters, in fact a combination of the super-suave wench and the college girl. She is eighteen, yes, but in many ways she is older than her actual age, having worked for a living for, lo, these lots 'n' lots of years. And, at the same time, she is also in other ways still the light-hearted, slightly inconsistent, slightly immature girl her birth certificate suggests. As evidence of the latter fact, we point to Barbara's recent marriage and divorce. The facts were that she and John Fontaine met, had fun, fell in love, ScREENLAND 57