Screenland (Nov 1949-Oct 1950)

isn't the most congenial state in the world. You're forever getting in each other's way. This marriage was very shortlived. Recently, I met my second husband. again and found he had changed his whole philosophy. He was so tolerant and kind that I discovered some of his ideals could be successfully applied to my own life. But there was no question, of course, of our getting together again. My two marriages possibly could be considered excellent arguments against marrying young. But I'd never issue any iron-clad rules about marrying or not marrying when you're young. What apphed to me may not work at all for anyone else. Each of us is different. I can only say that I was too impulsive, too young, I thought I knew everything. I now realize I knew very little. Youth is an impetuous state, so perhaps in that respect it cannot accept completely the maturity marriage demands. Marty Melcher replaced Al Levy as my manager at a time when I was mixed up and unhappy. Not long after I met him, he said, "You aren't happy, are you?" Suddenly, I found I could talk to him. I found I now had an excellent manager who had the unique ability to also be a good friend. Marty respected my confidence and never betrayed my trust. I could talk and he understood. He understood me, and this is very important when two people are closely associated in business. Marty straightened me out completely. He advised me about the kinds of pictures I should do — and he even told me what types of records to make. For a while I chose my own songs and none of my selections seemed to sell well. Yet, the ones he picked out for me were invariably best sellers. He also straightened me out financially. I hate handling bills and taking on responsibilities. I'm always throwing out important papers. I get my mail in the morning and then toss most of it into the fireplace. Mother usually stands by to grab! I have a safety box, but I don't know what it contains or where the key is. Nor do I really know how much money I make. Marty accepts all this with a sense of humor but he is trying to make me wake up. He once said in a kidding way, "If you ever give up your career I'd like you to be my filing clerk." He knows my filing is all done in the fireplace. He keeps an eagle eye on my purchases too. Recently, I wanted to buy a fur coat and I asked him if I could afford it. He promptly said, "No," and I just as promptly forgot about it. I accept his judgment completely. Since he started managing me, I have had far less worries. Naturally, no list of important men in my life would be complete without some remarks concerning one Robert Hope. Bob, whom I call Dad — to his annoyance — is a great person. He taught me everything about radio, and he also has been trying to show me how to conserve my energy. Bob is a tireless worker, but he knows how to relax. I work hard, when I have to, but I never slow down. Bob constantly impresses me with his character and his talent. Of course, working with him is one long gag after another. There was the time, for instance, when he dunked me in a pool at Palm Springs — with all my clothes on. No, I wasn't annoyed, You don't get mad at Bob. He's forever keeping me hopping during his radio shows. Often, when we're singing a duet and there's only one copy of the song be NOT to look for in a man and then by discussing the males' more redeeming qualities. "Maybe, I'm too much of a romanticist, but I've never thought you could make any iron-clad rules that a husband-to-be should be so tall . . . have such color hair and eyes. If you get too specific on your ideal mate you'll probably become an old maid while the girl with the more elastic list of qualifications for a husband has long since said her T do's.' "I believe in love at first sight — you tween us, he'll finish his part of the number and then hide the music behind his back when it comes my turn. You should see me trying frantically to get it away from him! When we do previews of the shows, he stands behind me and makes faces to get the audience to laugh while I'm singing. Even so, I do love his gags, so I put him high on my list. Last, but not least of my favorite men, is my eight-year-old son Terry. We were separated until I became established in Hollywood, and since he has come to live with me he has shown me the value of patience and tolerance. He has made me more flexible in my daily attitude. Even more important, because he's with me I have learned to love home life. It's so wonderful to have someone like Terry to come home to. I recently bought a house in the valley primarily because of him. He has made my life rich and complete — and of all the thrills I can look forward to, nothing is as important as the chance I will have of watching him develop, I hope, into a fine young man. I think that a woman reflects the influences of men who have crossed her path. At least, I realize that without the men I have known Doris Day would not mean a thing today. Their faith gave me a sense of completeness. What more can any woman say.'' know, that chemical contact 'across a crowded room,' " said Marta purring over the r's in the last two words. "You can fall in love at first sight, but don't marry until you're better acquainted and very sure he is the right one. "You must consider that he may be gallant and charming on your first date, but after you have known each other longer his charm may shrink to insincerity and his gallantry may dissolve to selfglorification." "Well, then," we interposed, "do you think it's cricket to label each man a certain type.''" "In a way, yes. If by labeling him a certain type you can predict his behavior." "Now, we're getting someplace," we enthused, "come on — elucidate!" It took a few seconds for Marta, who has been away from her native Sweden only two years, to comprehend what elucidate meant. But after she understood, we were off. "If your date is the precise, neat-as-apin type, you can easily foresee his reactions. When you go to a restaurant he will insist on doing all the ordering and will give you a hurt look if you even venture to suggest you loathe broiled lobster. Like a grab-bag, you have to be satisfied with wliat you get. "I remember when I dated a fellow like this. We went to a cafe and I casually mentioned to the waiter that we had an appointment and were in a hurry. My escort turned to me anrl reprimanded, 'You shouldn't have done that! It's up to How To Pick A Husband Continued from page 43