Don’t drool on the actresses

One very nice thing about all those years in Hollywood was that I got to meet, ogle or work with some of the most beautiful women in the world.

From my newspaper days I remember being stunned by Liz Taylor and Marilyn Monroe. The first of my dealings with Liz was at LAX, where she and her new hubby, Mike Todd, had just arrived from Europe, and the press was there to greet and idolize them. She was in her twenties then, and I’ll always remember a glance from those amazing violet eyes. A soft look from her could melt rocks. She was quiet and shy then, and let the bombastic Todd do all the talking. The last time I saw her was when she and Richard Burton came to NBC for a special. Talk about royalty! They arrived in a limo long enough to carry the Statue of Liberty, and were escorted (I could almost hear trumpets and drum rolls) into a dressing room that contained a wide variety of special food snacks, and the very best champagne. Then in her late forties, she still had those eyes, but she was no longer shy and quiet. I imagine she made Burton’s life quite interesting.

I never got to interview Marilyn Monroe, but was there for a variety of photo sessions. I always made sure I stood far enough away so I didn’t drool on her. She was an amazing woman/child.  I once heard her described thusly: “She uses those breasts the way old-west outlaws used their six-shooters.”  Those amazing boobs were always just standing there, turning men, baseball stars,  famed authors and presidents into quivering masses of slobber. But after a few minutes around her I always felt that she was really just a little girl who was hoping you’d like her. Not a happy lady.

There were many other beauties I tried not to drool on. Some I saw across the room, and others, like Kim Novak, took my hand and fogged my brain. I remember, again at LAX, meeting Marlene Dietrich as she arrived. She had said or done something that demanded an explanation, and I approached her as she was coming down the ramp. I started asking the embarrassing question, but the old pro just turned on that famous smile, hooked her arm in mine and asked if I would please, please help her find her luggage. As we walked along to the baggage area I tried to question her, and she smiled, hugged me to her side, and told me one silly story after another. We got her luggage, which she asked me to please, please carry for her. I carried several large suitcases outside and watched her hail a cab. She then blew me a kiss and left me standing there with all those unanswered questions.

One of the loveliest women I ever worked with was Jane Fonda. It was for a David Frost special which we taped inside her home. I loved to watch her move, and wondered why I was so arroused by a lady who looked like Henry Fonda.  I’d still drool on her today.

There were two other gals from the old days who could have their way with us weak creatures — Ava Gardner and Lana Turner. Gardner was sexy as hell, but looked like the type that would bite your head off after sex — just ask Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw or Sinatra.

Perhaps the first actress to activate my drool gland was dancer Eleanor Powell. At the age of 13 I  watched her movies, and the black silk stockings on her amazing, flashing legs, suddenly made me realize that girls were not just boys with longer hair.

Grace Kelly was supposed to be one of the world’s great beauties, but she was never in danger of my drool. To me she was like a plastic store dummy. The same goes for the lovely Raquel Welch. She should have been a total knockout, but her frown lines were painted out, and her smile was painted on.

Catherine Zeta Jones makes my hair get firm, and a few of the “newer” gals like Jennifer Aniston,  Jolie and Courteney Cox bring joy to the dreams of geezers.

On my next offering I’m going to tell you about the drunks I worked with, and about poor man who was the best actor in the business.

Fight Forth!