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cago, he launched a publicity tour which will include appearances at a dozen openings from Boston to Hollywood in less than a month. He also managed to sandwich in a guest spot on The Ed Sullivan Show, to play and sing his own original title song, “Sincerely Yours.”
Even before the tour started, Liberace was beating the bushes for a new script. His contract with Warners calls for one picture a year for five years, and he is not one to let somebody else pick his tunes for him.
“They’re buying my personality,” he says matter-of-factly, “so it seems sensible to have that personality stamped on the story, the music, the costumes and everything else. If that’s what they’re buying, that’s what I’m going to give them.”
The personality, in two years’ time, has matured a good deal and has acquired an easy poise that has become the delight of the Hollywood press corps. His once dead-pan answers to purposely silly questions are now tinged with a dry humor, with the result that newsmen who used to laugh
at him are now laughing with him. Liberace recently tossed himself a shindig at his somewhat gaudily subdued home in the San Fernando Valley, the two-fold purpose of which was to bare his interior decorating ideas to the press and introduce his new four-volume “Liberace Course of Piano Study.” One of his decorating ideas was a heavy gold necktie richly embossed with a detailed design.
“Where,” he was asked bluntly, “did you get that crazy tie?”
Liberace grinned amiably. “Heck,” he said, shrugging, “all you’ve got to have is a little guts.”
Not long ago the first issue of a new magazine was published, supposedly a tongue-in-cheek answer to the many smear-type magazines now on the stands. Its cover line said that Liberace is bald and that his make-up man actually is a barber.
“You should have heard the makeup man,” Liberace chuckled. “He was really screaming. Said they couldn’t call him a barber. He’d sue. I told him he should hear some of the things people call ME!”—Dan Jenkins