Variety (Jun 1930)

62 VARIETY TIMES SQUARE Wednesday, June 4, 1930 The Piano Player By Joe Laurie, Jr. I just had to run in and tell you my troubles, Mazle. This time I'm really through. All that I ever get from that ground cloth of mine is abuse. He's getting so he thinks he's the whole act. To hear him talk you would think I was work- ing for him. I told him where he gets off at this morning. I just got fed up with him . and told him how I got him out of a lousy jazz band and made him my accompanist, and how I got him to meet agents and managers that he'd never would have met in his life without me. Tou know I taught that bum how to dress properly; bought him ties, shirts, suits and even a set of golf sticks. I dorit know why I ever tied up with a mugg like him. He thinks he's a composer now and trying to show me how to sing a song. Me, Mazie, who was a single when he didn't know what a stage looked like. . Can you boat that? All Alike All those piano plaj'ers are alike. But he's so changed. He used to tell me to take care of my pipes, to get my proper rest, to save my money. Now I know he was just doing it so he could have a Job. Last Christmas I gave him a beautiful wrist watch—and even loaned him money so he could buy; me a little present. I wouldn't mind It, Mazie, I love to do things for a young boy like him. But last night I caught him making a play for a dame in the girl act, a washout blonde. What gets my goat is that when I asked him If I should bleach my hair he said no, he didnt like blondes. Giving Him His Way I've been letting him have his own way even against my better judgment. When he tells me to sing two and two of a song I do it, just to please him when I know that one and two would be better. He gives me lousy catch-lines for my songs, but I use them to en- courage him and cut down . on the arguments. He's just a kid. Not much younger than I am, and hasn't had much experience. But what do I get for being nice to him? Nothing but abuse, Mazie. He takes advantage of my good nature. He tried to show me where we could save the extra sleeper I the nerts money by getting married. And 1 So long. came near falling hut I see now what a fool I'd a been. He's no good, Mazie. All that guy thinks of is playing cards and horses. I can't even get him up in the mornings to reliearse some new songs. I think I'm going to give him air. The office has been complaining about my routine lately and it's all his fault. When he gets sore he Just won't work, lays down like a' carpet, always stays a few bars be- hind me. And after all I've done for him, and besides, I'm the act, even if he doesn't believe it. - Another Nice Kid Anyway, Mazie, I met an awful nice kid on the bill last vireek. Conies from a good family and writes wonderful stuff. He plays the piano, not very good but enough to be. able to accompany me. As good as Al plays anyway. He's a faker you know, don't know one note from another. But this kid is handsome and makes a line appearance from the front. I think I can make something out of him and I'll start different with him. I'll show him who's boss and keep it tliat way. You don't blame me, Mazie, for getting sore at that bezok, Al, do you? You kno^y I'm getting a little' older and at that stage where I got to look out for myself and I al- ways say if I don't who will? Ain't that the truth, Mazie? Scotch and Torch And anyway I guess.Al is too in- terested in that blonde to worry about me and the act, well he'll see when hie leaves me how far he'll get. .He'll be with another lousy jazz band. That blonde is just in- fatuated with him because he sings torch songs to lier over a bottle of scotch. I think I'll be better off making a change. The other kid is handsome and respects women, lie told me so. Well, I'll go back to the hotel npw and if Al doesn't show up to take me out to eat then I'm through with him. I mean it tills time, Mazie. And I'll crab him with every agent and manager in the country, and you know, Mazie, I know th'em all, and how. So long, Mazie, thanks for listen ing. You're a lucky woman using the orchestra—piano i)layers are 9th MONTH BROCK PEMBERTON Prrsenti Strictly Dishonorable Comtdy Hit by Prutan Slurg*! Stsied b> AntolnetU Perry 4 Mr. Pimbirttn AVON THEATHE, Wc.-t 4Gth Street. Eves.8:50. ^5at3.Tlulr9.& Sat.2:30 That.. W. 44th St. Evs. 8:40 Mnts. Tluirs. >nd SaU. 2:40 BELASCO llih MONTH DAVID BELASCO Prasent* It s a Wise Child "HERE IS A COMEDY THAT EVEN- WARM WEATHER CANNOT MELT." —CHARLES DARNTOX. Eve. AVorld THEATRE GUILD Presents The New Garrick Gaieties OUILD THEATRE, B2nrt. W. of Bwny. Eves. 8:30. Mats. Thurs. and Sat., 2:30. HOTEL UNIVERSE A new play by PHILIP BARRY An the subscription season for this play Is over, excellent seats are avail- able for all performances. MARTIN BECK THEATRE 45th St.. W. of 8th Ave. ' Eves. 8:50. lints. Thurs. i Sat., 2:30 Salesmen to Show Biz Punch Each Other Over 50-50 in SpGt Commish Harold Unger, 2348 Brookhaven avenue. Far Rockaway, was freed in West Side Court by Magistrate George Ewald when he was sum- moned on the charge of punching Harry Kaplan, 1749 East 24th street, Brooklyn. Both men are in the jewelry busi- ness and ply their trade in the the- atrical world. Kaplan asserted he received his "lumps" in an auction shop at Broadway and 47th street. Kaplan is small and frail while Unger is powerfully built. Kaplan stated that the assault was unjustifiable. He was severely punched while score's looked on, and raced to a traffic cop, who sug- gested he get a summ'ons. "I defended myself when Kaplan soug^it to kick me," said the big Unger. The argument began over the division of commissions on the sale of jewelry. Unger stated he split with Kaplan, but that the latter held out on' him. He denied he struck Kaplan. >^ The court dismissed the summons, stating that Kaplan had no wit- nesses. Hotels Cutting Rates Times Square hotels with sum- mer in the offing and biz looking anything but sweet are starting to slash rates. Inaccurate Biographies Bebe Daniels By Claude Binyon Paris Always Open But Bedtime Comes Around Paris, May 23. "You can't be bigger than Paris" and "you can't lock up Paris, put It to sleep and then go to sleep," are two slogans which some of the hotsy-totsy professionals have since found out. The Idea of making all the rounds until everiything Is shut up and you gotta go home because there's no other place to go, has put some of the energetic boys undef wi-aps already. Paris is open day and night and at all hours there's something do- ing. Many tried to do everything in one night, carrying their nocturnal festivities to 10 and 12 o'clock the follpwing forenoon, only to be forced finally to call it quita and go home. Tliere was a set here; tliey went a furious pace, in and out of many joints a night, making'the nightly pace from Montmartre until after daybreak in Montparnasse, and thence thereafter into somebody's apartment, until falling away from exhaustion. Sid Skolsky's Advice to Mothers (Reprinted front Sidney Skolsky's daily column in the New 'York "Daily News.") Don't Raise Your Boy to Be a Columnistll By SIDNEY SKOLSKY This is really an open letter 'to the mothers of America. I intended writing It on Mother's Day but put it off until now. I thought I'd be able to address a larger audience. Maybe I'm wrong. . Every day, at least two nice clean specimens of American manhood come to see me and ask: "How can I become a Broadway columnist?" Most of them are college boys who studied to be doctors, lawyers and other things for which one goes to college. However, they stand before me, years of learning still in their heads, and ask to become Broadway columnists. Ah—the pity of it! . ^ Mothers of America it is up to youl I'm certain that you didn't raise your bpy to be a columnist. Let him go on the stage, let him drive a truck, even let him be a pole-sitter. This Is a column to end all columnists. * * • Let me speak to you as one mother to another. Of course I'm not really a mother, but I have one and I know how it feels. You are proud of your boy. Tou watched him grow from a baby into a boy. Then from a boy into manhood, Tou couldn't help this, so I won't blame you. ■When he was a small boy you wanted him to be President of the. United States. Then one day, when he came home and told you how little the President receives a year, you wanted him to be a baseball player like Babe Buth. • O, I know. Tou can't fool me. All mothers are alike. Therefore, it is probably a great surprise when 1 tell you that your son has been to see me and wants to be a columnist. I am safe in say ing your son has been to see me. It seems that every youth in America has been In the office. I have a lar ge sig n posted for them. It reads "Jansen Wants to See You." RKO THEATRES LETS GO! GRACE GEORGE In the St. John Ervli)e comedy "FIRST MRS. FRASER" with A. B. Matthowa and Lawrence Grossinlth PT A VTrflTTQ'R St. E. of n-wa.v, Eves. :>:::o Marion DA VIES in t*' 'The Florodora GirP G A Mctro-Oolilwyn-Miiyor PlPluro A ('o.iniopolltnn rrnrturllon LAUREL-HARDY COMEDV stage Show BUNCHUK—ORCHESTRA APITOL B'WAY 51st ST. 7th Avt. Dir. rel (ROXY) Rf\ Y V * I of 8. L. RtthB n wifk WILL ROGEflS in "SO THIS IS LONDON" i'rom Geo. M". Colian'a Inlcmritlonal SucreM br Arthur Goodrich Oa th» 8Ut»-"CARKEN,"^wJth Dmra Nadwtmiy, famous Badio X Y star, and Entire Iloxy Company MIdoiglil Picture* B. F KEITH'S PALACE BIOTANt . 4300 Eugene A. Willie Frances HOWARD WILLIAMS Radaelli—York & King— Eric Zardo JANS & WHALEN ^KOCTORS NEAR, 3rd AVE. Wvd. to Trl., Juno 4 to 0 "THE TEXAN" wUU GARY COOrKll & Fay Wray M.W I'SIIEK niKl other ItKO utiniotlons RKO PROCTOfCS COR LEX AVE AVc(>. to l-'rl., .Jlinr 4 <o 0 "THE TEXAN" with C.\RY COOl'EJB & Fny Wray HB.\I.Y & fROSW raixcESs si-aviansky and KOY^AI, RI SSIAN CHORUS OF 20 Joe McCrae, Roberta Gale and Louis Wolheim, "Silver Horde," Radio. Tyler Brook, Stuart Erwln and Dorothy Christian "Little Cafe," Par. . Mothers of America—I'm still talking to you. It's me, Sidney, I'm trying to save your sons from a fate worse than death. Broadway—The World's Playground. Imagine your son having to make it his business office! Somebody asks for little Willie. What can you reply? It isn't nice to say: "He's in conference on the corner of Broadway and 42d St." Or, "He's in conference backstage of the Carroll theatre. A chorus girl is baring, all. He's getting an exclusive yarn." What will the neighbors think? That .isn't all. Tour boy will never see the sun. He will sleep all day and work all night. He'will spend his hours sitting in corners in night clubs—cellars. He will have to listen to everybody's heartache. If any body ever had a tough break they will tell it to him. They know he is looking for sobs.. He meets a fellow and instead of saying: "Hello, Joe. How's everything? Pine. That's good." He says: "Hello, Joe Say, I hope your wife left you for that saxophone player and you're .heartbroken. No. Gee, that's too bad." Good news is no news. " • * • After a while your boy will get so that he will stop strange people in the street and shout: "Got a gag?" No one will mean anything to him unless they have a gag. When he comes home, and you are lucky enough to see him and greet him with a fond hello, he will reply: used that in yesterday's column. Give me a new gag, will you?" All. life to him will be a gag. That's a pretty serious state of affairs. Tou've seen people who are shellrshocked. Well, being a Broadway columnist is worse. They (don't ask me wlio) say there's a broken heart for every light on Broadway. Who broke them there hearts? Broadway columnists! Even your own cherished secrets aren't safe if your son becomes a columnist. Sny, if he needs twelve lines some blue Monday, he'll tell all. Maybe not all. But enough to fill twelve lines. The rest he'll keep in overset. • * • I have issued the warning. I have stated the facts. The rest is up to you. You ask why T don't say something to the fathers? I'm sOrry you brought that up. I didn't want to say a word about it, but since you insist, many of your husbands have been here also. Everybody wants to be a columnist, I praise you mothers. You are the only folks who don't want to be Broadway columnists. You believe that woman's place is In the home. I mean their own home. * * * There is nothing more that I can 'say. I have told everything. Watch your husband! Watch your son! Don't let them become Broadway columnists. Keep them out of this office. I'm a bad influence. They see me doing nothing and they think a columnist's life Is an easy one. They don't know I'm thinking. That's difficult—very difficult. Hollywood, May 3i. Bebfe (Titan No. 3) Daniels is from Dallas. Lots of people leave Dallas. More are going into Texas. A man who ran a grocery store in Oklahoma City once said that if all the people from Dallas were laid end to end .they wouldn't even smoke. Later this man's store burn- ed down. He was down in the base- ment at the time. Now reported missing. Bebe's parents were in show busi- ness. "Our little Bebe was born in a wardrobe trunk," they'd always say, and people would laugh. One time a tall man with hollows in his ■neck didn't laugh. After he was gone Mrs. Daniels turned to Mr. Daniels. "I don't like that man," she said. Oh, he's all right," Mr. Daniels replied, rubbing the tip of his right shoe against the rear of his right trouser leg. He wasn't a contor- ' tionist. He had his shoes off. Mrs. Daniels said no more about it. But the Daniels family wasn't the same from then on. A tall man with hollows In his neck had ruined everything. When Bebe was 10 weeks old the parents decided she was ready for work, and doubled her between the Burbank and Belasco stock com- panies. One day the ingenue in the Burbank troupe dropped Bebe. The gag got quite a laugh, so the in- genue started dropping the little tot at every show. Bebe Okayed It "What an unethical way to get a laugh," said Mrs. Daniels indignant- ly, when she found out, "Anything for a laugh." "It's okay, ma," interpolated Bebe. The kid was quite an Interpolator. One day when a Mexican and an Irishman were fighting It out on a street corner, Bebe tried to inter- polate; "He called you a lousy soandsb," Bebe told the Irishman. "He did, did he?" exclaimed the Irishman. Como esta, como esta, como esta!" Bebe told the Mexican. Como esta, como esta, como esta!" exclaimed the Mexican. And he did. Still Comedy When the parents got a load of It they took Bebe off the stage and put her in a convent. After that Bebe started her picture career when still a kid. She was with Selig for two years, playing coniedy leads. From then on it was a cinch. Years later when it looked like she was winding up a profitable career, somebody decided she could sing, and she became Titan No. 3. Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthuV, Titans Nos. 1 and 2, respectively, asked her over to the house one day. "You're a swell kid," said the first two Titans. "Maybe so," said Bebe. "I'm en- gaged to Ben Lyon." "Is he a Titan?" asked Hecht. "No," answered Bebe. "He can't be any good if he isn't a Titan," MacArthur decided. "He's in "Hell's Angels," explain- ed Bebe. "What's that?" asked MacArthur. "It's before our time," Hecht said. "Oh," said MacArthur. Ho said it just as though he hadn't heard anything. And if you know MacArthur you know he hadn't. Chicago for Laughs (Continued from page 1) sticks on a pair of smoked specs and fiddles on a corner of Boul Mich for $5.61. Mounted cops have trained their nags to stop whenever they spot a chump counting a roll. Whistling beggars give out pop tunes while tl-e hand is outstretclied. A cinder bridle path is chalked up as costing the city $1,000,000. Next to the stage door ot the Palace Theatre, the new home oi MRS. GERSON'S GRILL After 11 Years on Broadway