Screenland Plus TV-Land (Nov 1952 - Oct 1953)

Marge and Gower Champion at a party at the Palladium added to the gaiety by dancing for the guests. They're currently appearing in "Give A Girl A Break." clothes. They overflow the extra closet, me guest closet, my closet, and my clothes are hanging in the hall. "We must be practical, Johnny," Cara said. "We must look for a house." We go house-shopping and we are eagerly searching for a home of our own. Cara is efficient about money and about everything. She is more practical than I, and soon she instituted the budget system of running our life. Where my milk bill was forty dollars for me alone, today it is twenty. I have just as much milk. No longer do bottles spoil in over-abundance, and overflow the hallway while the Barrymores are away. When I wanted to buy a new expensive sport coat, she said, ''But Johnny dear, we could use that money for food and the houss." It was no sacrifice to pass it, or many other things, up. As long as we're together, I'm happy. After our honeymoon at Howard Manor in Palm Springs, we became so engrossed in each other that we rarely see our friends. Cara's six-year-old daughter Cathy (by a previous marriage) shares part of our time. On Saturdays, we take her to the amusement park and watch her ride the ponies and the merry-go-round. The other day, she said, "Daddy, put me on the choo-choos, will you?" I can't explain how that made me feel. She called me "Daddy." It was wonderful. Now I want a child, Cara's and mine. If we have a son within a year, when I'm forty-one, he'll be twenty-one and we'll be like brothers. All of the camaraderie I missed with my own father (I only saw him once that I remember), I will give my son — our son. My wife has given, and is giving me, everything I've ever missed. Someone to believe in me, to be heart and soul for my interests, to encourage me, to expect great things from me, and to give me the determination to be worthy of her expectation and faith in me. When we were about to say our marriage vows, she suddenly looked up at me with great frightened eyes. I was the one who had to be strong — to reassure her. "Darling, I love you with all my heart," I told her. "You know I will do everything to make us happy." Today, after three months of marriage, I know that if we should ever come to divorce — which I know we will not — I'd never marry again. I could never love anyone else so completely. Someone said I was too young to marry— to know real love. Serious love, I believe, is reserved for the young. When you are young, everything is more serious, more intense, more deeply felt, more until-death-do-us-part than when life has become cynical, embittered. Unintentionally, sometimes, Cara hurts me. As when I tell her I love her, and her mind is engrossed in rushing to dress and reach the studio. Or when I feel that she is not as keenly aware of my love as I am, I feel like a scene from "Dante's Inferno" with my whole stomach gnawing away. Then, she smiles and puts her arms around me and reaches up for a kiss — and I am complete. I never read books, but Cara reads to me. Long evenings, we lie in each other's arms while she reads and I stroke her beautiful hands — and listen to her lovely voice. And then we talk and she makes me believe in myself. And I want to become a great actor. I have someone who will watch me grow into something worth while. I've never had that. I quit school when I was in the 12th grade. My family fought my desire to become an actor. They wanted me to become a doctor. It is our togetherness that makes Cara mean so much to me. Before, I was always so alone, even with my family around me. I cook Cara's breakfast. I delight in/ awakening her and sitting on the bed and watching her eat. When she arises to shower — she leaves a fragrance on the pillow. I love her without make-up. Some women don't look as though they were born, but as though they were sculptured. She's like that, as if she had been molded by the hand of a divine artist, and had not come to life by birth. I never tire looking at her and I find I am lonely even if she is in the next room. That's how mad I am about my wife. We experience all of the facets of marriage, laughter, love, disagreements, petty quarrels and making up. I'll watch her put on mascara and I'll mimic her until she's hysterical. And when she looks like a goddess of perfection, ready to go out, then she is completely irresistible. I can't check the impulse to run my hands through her hair. "Don't mess me, Johnny— we've got to go out," she'll say, while I'm covering the back of her neck with kisses. My wife has a red-headed-temper and I have an Irish one. And the flare-ups we have only bring us closer. Out of great sentiment, I ordered our twin wedding rings with mine made tight, because I knew I would never remove it. When Cara tried to place it on my finger it wouldn't slip on. Later she asked me why. I tried to explain and, without being aware of it, we were shouting. She has such wonderful eyes. They are like looking into the bottom of a very clear lake and seeing the coral — for her irises are flecked with red. And when she is angry — WOW! We always calm down quickly and we are in each other's arms. And what we argue about is so unimportant that we can't even remember it. I drive her to the studio when she is working and she, in turn, goes with me. We like to have dinner out and sit and talk about our lives, our plans, of which we never tire. When some man looks at her beauty I suddenly feel myself resenting it. Maybe it's jealousy, I'm not sure. But she is mine, all mine. My wife is the greatest thing to happen to me. END David Niven and Dana Andrews having some man talk at Sam Goldwyn party.