Dear Diary,
The first Tuesday night sans Hope didn’t come off so badly. Johnny Mercer started the show with Bob’s usual routine, “This is John ‘Taking Bob Hope’s Spot for the Summer’ Mercer telling you that a cheery smile is no good if it’s at home in a glass.” A little later things weren’t going so smoothly, so Johnny said, “Hope might at least send a wire,” Just then a boy said, “Telegram for Mr. Mercer. That’ll be $2.50, collect.” Johnny said, “I knew I’d hear from Hope.” (Off the record, the boy was Dix Davis, who had a starring role in Bob’s summer show last year). The telegram said, “Just heard show. Think you misunderstood. I said fill my time for summer, not till it. Hope.” 12 weeks.
Dear Diary,
It’s hard to realize that the happiest day of my life was just two months ago today. It seems like longer than that, in that I want to see Bob in person again so badly that I can feel it. And yet in another way it seems like only yesterday, because I can read that newspaper article or think about it, and recall every little incident. I can even remember the lovely, deep tone of his voice as he turned around from the mike, his eyes searching the platform, and started a sentence, “I wonder _ _ _.” When he saw me, he said, “Oh, yes” low, and it actually happened. (Ain’t I silly? But happy.)
I now have a total of forty hours at the mailing center to my credit.
Dear Diary,
I read today that Bob will have one day free in New York between the conclusion of his camp tour and his departure for England. For that one day, a crew of cameramen will go to New York to film a new ending to Bob’s next picture, “Let’s Face It.”
Dear Diary,
Mother passed a remark tonight to the effect the Jean White likes Frank Sinatra as much as I like Bob. Four months ago Jean said she liked Tyrone Power as much as I liked Bob. Before that it had been Sterling Hayden, then Dennis Morgan, the Ronald Reagan, then Alan Ladd. Now it’s Frank Sinatra. Just to point out the contrast, Jean went to a show tonight, even though it’s the night of F. S.’s radio program. How many of Bob’s programs have a missed in three years?
Dear Diary,
The new March of Time, “Show Business at War,” opened at the Palace today. It was interesting, well-timed, and instructive, but more than one person noted the absence from the script of any mention of Bob Hope. I realize that such a short film couldn’t possibly have done justice to everyone who has contributed to the war effort in behalf of show business. However, quite a bit of footage was given to radio stars who have broadcast a few shows from army camps, and screen stars who have done a great deal, but certainly not as much as Bob, who never broadcasts from anywhere but an army camp.
Dear Diary,
Bing Crosby returned to the Kraft Music Hall tonight. He sounded rather tired, not his usual chipper self. In fact, and I never thought I’d hear myself say this, I didn’t enjoy him as much tonight as I have Bob Crosby the past eight weeks. Bing almost managed to get off the air without a word about Bob Hope, but I guess the strain was too much for him. At the very end of the program, in urging people to buy bonds, he said, “Sock away some bonds for the new things to come after the war. The present-day radios and ice-boxes will be as dated as Hope’s horse jokes.”
Dear Diary,
I spent eight more hours at the ration board today, for a total of thirty-three hours.
A picture of Bob at a rehearsal of the Mayor of the Town broadcast joined my collection today.
I heard Bob’s program rebroadcast by short wave for the last time this season today. Everything with the word Pepsodent in it was cut out as usual, but the best part of the whole show, the duet, was left in. I’ve been waiting for almost three months for the results of the Movie-Radio Guide’s poll. I was afraid they wouldn’t be announced before Bob went off the air. I said some time ago that Bob would win all three titles, and he did.
Dear Diary,
I used to think the combination of Crosby and Mercer was unbeatable, but tonight Hope and Mercer topped it. They sang one of Johnny’s newest songs, “Propaganda.” By the way, the reason Johnny Mercer was on tonight is that he takes over the Pepsodent Show for the summer. And they coundn’t have picked a better man. Bob really got hot in that song, too. He was so good he surprised even me, which is hard to do as var as Bob Hope is concerned. The last show of the season cam from Camp Perry, in Bob’s home state, Ohio. At the first of the show Wen Niles announced the results of the latest Star of Stars Poll of the Movie-Radio Guide. The Pepsodent Show was voted favorite of all radio programs, Bob Hope was voted as the best comedian, and a fellow by the name of Bob Hope was voted 1943’s Star of Stars. They could hardly stop the applause. Bob signed off, “Good-night, Linda and Tony.” Good-night, Bob. Hasta la vista.
Dear Diary,
I worked at the ration board four hours today, making a total of twenty-five hours. I’m slipping. I’ll have to go pretty regularly this week to make up for the time I lost while waiting for my carpet to be delivered.
While looking through the list of coming attractions at the various neighborhood theaters, I noticed that “Never Say Die,” Bob’s fifth picture, will be here for a return engagement Wednesday. That picture is one of the several in which Bob co-starred with Martha Raye. Fortunately, it hasn’t happened since I’ve been liking him so darn much. I saw him in all those first six pictures, but it took “The Cat and the Canary” to make me a dead duck.
Dear Diary,
Today it was announced that Sergeant Jack Culpepper will leave within the next two days to join Bob in Ohio. From there they will start on a four-month trek overseas. The sergeant’s stripes (the was a corporal) came with the orders. He will be the first soldier in either World Ware to go overseas with a troupe of actors to entertain soldiers.
Dear Diary,
My bedroom floor is now almost completely covered by a new carpet. Now as soon as the regular beg can be shipped from the factory, the scene will be complete.
I read today that at Dorothy Lamour’s wedding reception Bob broke down and confessed that it was he who had sent the wire to Captain Howard which read, “Before you do anything check with me,” and signed it Herbie Kay, (Dorothy’s first husband).
Dear Diary,
I read today that Bob and ZaSu Pitts do a jitterbug number in “Let’s Face It.” I can see right now that I’m going to enjoy that picture a great deal.
Jack Benny and company was on the Camel Comedy Caravan tonight in the second of five special programs. Ken Niles, Wen’s younger brother was the announcer. At one spot, Benny said, “Come in now, Wen Niles.” Ken said, “Aren’t you mistaken? The Hope show was on last week. I’m Ken Niles. ” Benny said, “Well are you Wen Niles’ brother?” Ken replied, “I don’t know. I have so many brothers. There’s also Ben, Yen, Lynn, and Titicitum.” How’d he get in there?
I also got a picture of Bob and Dot today.
Dear Diary,
I spent over four hours at the rationing board this afternoon, making a total of twenty – one hours, or an average of three and a half hours a day since I started last Friday.
Bing didn’t come back on the Kraft Music Hall as scheduled tonight, so Bob Crosby carried on again. As usual, he was thoroughly enjoyable, and, as last week, I rather hate to see him go. But I’ll also be glad to hear Papa Crosby again. He’ll probably offer condolences to Bob (Hope, not Crosby). After all, Bob lost one of his chief sources of material when Don Bingo won a race.
According to Garry Moore tonight, his new job is this: “I’m the bloke who pokes cokes and smokes at folks for the guy who buys pies and dies ties in a fancy farmers’ pharmacy on a high hill in back of a haystack in Hackensac, New Jersey.”
Dear Diary,
I got several pictures of Bob today. Most of them were taken at Dottie Lamour’s wedding. Two showed Bob and Jimmy Cagney trying to out-dance each other at an army camp.
There was an article in one of the magazines about a recent meeting of the Actors Guild, where several stars, including Bob, Kay Kyser, and Jimmy Cagney, played it on some stars who have shirked their duty in regard to the entertainment of the armed forces. To quote part of the article: It isn’t an easy thing,” Bob Hope explained, “to tour the camps, especially if you’re a fellow. I know how it is. On our Alaskan tour, the day after I came so near to death up there that I don’t want to think about it, some boy from the audience heckled, “Yeah, you’d be funnier, fellow, if you were in a uniform.” It hurts. And, what’s more, you can’t explain about age or family or why you’re not in – mostly because the government says No. You gotta take it. But that’s only one fellow amount thousands who will never forget what you’ve tried to do. So please, please, friends, forget self and pride and inconvenience and get out there and do your stuff.
Dear Diary,
Bob was at the Seabee training center at Williamsburg, Virginia, tonight. He had another guess orchestra leader named Bob tonight. This time it was Bob Chester, and I liked him better than Bob Allen last week. I think Bob’s trying to start a collection of orchestra leaders named Bob.
Vera Vague’s engagement was announced tonight, but she couldn’t resist the temptation to do a little flirting. She and Bob and Frances rowed out to an island to see her new home. B.J. said, “We can’t go all the way in that boat, Mr. Hope. I’ll carry you piggy-back on one condition.” Bob said, “Well, I kind of hate to get wet. What’s the condition?” Vera replied, “I’ll carry you piggy-back for just one little kiss. ” There was a loud splash, and Bob yelled, “Come on in. The water’s fine.”
Dear Diary,
I worked at the rationing board more than eight hours today, and put out twice as many books as anyone else at our table. Not that it matter who does the most, as long as the job is done well in as short a time as possible. Volunteers are badly needed now to get the job finished by July 15, when the third ration books will be needed. It’s a tiresome day’s work, and it’s not exactly glamorous, but it has to be done. It helps me feel that Bob Hope and the armed forces aren’t the only ones doing something to win this damned war. I just realized that my entire contribution to the war effort has been: (1) a couple of days a week at the USO last summer; (2) three war bonds; (3) a first aid course; and not much else.
Dear Diary,
Bing Crosby is now getting what Bob got when Red Skelton first entered the picture. With Bing it’s Frank Sinatra. Both F.S. and R.S. were, at one time, declared Bing’s and Bob’s strongest competitors, and by a few, their successors. So far nothing has come of either. Bing would never mention it, but tonight Fred Allen talked about one of “Bing’s horses” called Poo Poo Sinatra.
Dear Diary,
I spent the day today doing practically nothing. I read an Ellery Queen mystery and fooled around with shortwave to see where, when, and if the program Bob was on last night was being rebroadcast. I had absolutely no luck, although I tried about every fifteen of thirty minutes. This was quite a different day from yesterday, when I spent eight hours at Adamson High School, sending ration book no. 3 to several thousand hungry people.
Dear Diary,
Excuse me if my head’s in the clouds. I’ve just survived forth – five lovely minutes of Bob Hope at his best. I don’t mean by that that he didn’t make a few slips of the tongue. To the contrary, he made more mistakes than usual. That’s the main reason he was so good. He’s in New York for quite a long stay, and according to Frances Langford, that won’t be so good for Bob. In response to the young gentleman’s “Why?” Frances said, “Because the rest of us will be seeing out clothes to a regular laundry now.” Xavier Cugat, better known as Cugi, provided the music, plus some enjoyable wit. After talking to him for a while, Vera Vague said, “Well, I’ll see you later. I’m going to join Hose Nose now.” Now I too join him–in my dreams. Good night!
Dear Diary,
Bro Bob Crosby was really swell on the Kraft Music Hall tonight. Just when I’m getting used to him, and all probably miss him, Bing comes back to old KMH next week. Somebody out to sponsor a program for young Robert.
Garry Moore’s program held even more appeal than usual for me tonight, simply because of a few words uttered by good old Howard Petrie at the end of the program. He was doing the regular routine of “Listen to all four Camel shows – – –” he named the four shows, then deviated a little to say, ” And be sure to listen tomorrow night to the special edition of the Camel Comedy Caravan, starring Bob Hope, Jerry Colonna, Frances Langford, Vera Vague, and Xavier Cugat.” Bob was on the Caravan the last time he was in the East. Now he’s getting up in the world – he takes over the whole darn program!
Dear Diary,
I bought an album of records today, and one of them was “Thanks For the Memory.” It’s a beautiful arrangement by David Rose and his orchestra. On the inside cover there is a picture of Bob and the rest of the cast of “The Big Broadcast of 1938.” Underneath the picture it says: ” ‘Thanks For the Memory’ was the big reason behind the single instance in which Bob Hope made his fans cry. He sang it to Shirley Ross in a touching parting scene that made him a national figure. So much so, that his next picture bore the son’t title.” That little paragraph gave me a terrific longing to see Bob’s first picture.
In listening to Bob’s rebroadcast today, I heard: Frances said, “Bob, do you think you can get enough gas to drive all the way to South Carolina?” Bob: “What? With my reputation! my personality! my siphon!”
Dear Diary,
Bob was at Fort Jackson, Columbia, South Carolina tonight. He had a guest band leader, Bob Allen, and things got a wee bit confused for my feeble brain once or twice there. Bob H. Said, “Here’s Bob and his band playing ‘You’ll Never Know,’ with Bob doing the lyrics. Take it, Bob ” or something on that order. After it was over, Wen Niles said, “Thanks, Bob. ” Who knew which Bob he meant? Bob pulled several jokes about Don Bingo, who won $27,000 at Belmont today. Bing will be able to hold that over Bob’s head for months now, just as he did when Don Juan II won a race in California last year. Which proves that Crosby does have a couple of good horses.
Dear Diary,
Compared to April (around the twenty – first ) May has been a pretty dull month. Of course there were his five radio programs (not counting rebroadcasts of the regular show) to brighten things up a bit. Then too, I saw “They Got Me Covered” eleven times. And one of the brightest spots was seeing “Road to Singapore” twice more this month. I have always said, and still say, that it’s Bob’s best picture to date. And believe me, he’s made some pretty good ones.
Ov course the least of my worries is the fact that school was over May twenty – eighth. That didn’t make me very mad. Now that I’m free for a few months, I have lots of time to go chasing Bob, if he’d come back to Dallas and give me the chance before he goes overseas. But come to think of it, he’s never been here during the summer as long as I can remember. It has always been either spring or fall, and usually spring. Maybe he knows that I’d pester the life out of him if he ever came when I didn’t have to worry about school.
Incidentally, another milestone passed this moth was the writing of my first letter to Bob, for which I’ll never get a reply. But who expected one anyway?
Say, this hasn’t been such a dull month at that!
Dear Diary,
As a follow up of a recent Pepsodent advertisement entitled “How to Make a Date – by Bob Hope,” a new advertisement, complete with a lot of pictures of Bob, has just come out. This one is called “Keeping in Condition – by Bob Hope.” There is one very silly, but cute, picture of Bob making like Tarzan – complete with leopard skin. Underneath the picture (but it isn’t his hand-writing, so I don’t believe it) he states, “Maybe you won’t believe it, but I one posed for health magazines. Remember the ads that said ‘Before ‘ and ‘After.’ Well I posted for one that said, ‘Heaven forbid’.” Under another; “I’m the only guy who ever gets thin from over-eating. Every time I come home my relatives are over, eating.” This could go on, but I’ll mercifully stop now.
Dear Diary,
Mother and Dad went to the farm last night, and they said I could have dinner at the Athletic Club today. After I ate, I revisited Bob’s old stamping grounds in 708. Of course it wasn’t nearly as much fun, not hearing Bob on the other side of that heavy door.
Dear Diary,
It’s been several weeks since I enjoyed myself as much as I did today. I went to a theater that shows very old pictures and saw, twice of course, “Road to Singapore.” That has always been my favorite of all Bob’s pictures, not to mention the best of the Road pictures. I hated to leave after seeing it just twice, but it was a double feature, and I couldn’t bear to see the other features again. It was late too.
Dear Diary,
Today was the last day of school for three wonderful, hot, sweltering months. I got my report cards today too. I made A’s in all five subjects on the six-weeks’ report, and I made A’s on all the final examinations except Latin. I made my only B for the past two terms on that final. Oh well, from 91 to 96 isn’t so terrible, even though one of those A’s (96–100) would have looked much better. But to get back to the main subject, I now have the whole summer in which to read, cut out and paste in pictures of Bob, and see Bob in movies. When I’m not doing those things or helping my teacher mail out Ration Book Number Three, them I’m just going to loaf until it hurts. (I can just see myself loafing, with a war to be won.)
Dear Diary,
I pasted pictures of Bob in my scrap book today until I thought I couldn’t possibly have any more to put in. So I counted those I had already put in, the the grand total was twenty. It seemed more like twenty thousand, because I was so careful with each one, and took so much time in between pictures to press them so they wouldn’t curl. In other words, I still have about a thousand more pictures to paste in.
Garry Moore pulled a pretty cute gag tonight. He said, “Jimmy, do you know what the little kitten said when he saw some people playing tennis?” Durante replied, “No, Junior, what did the little kitten say when he saw some people playing tennis?” Garry: “My mother’s in that racket! “
Dear Diary,
Fibber Mc Gee pulled a corny gag last night. I’ve forgotten it, but after he said it, Molly countered with the usual, “It ain’t funny, McGee.” He said, “That’s funny. I traded Bob Hope three ‘She’s so fat that’ jokes for that one. It ought to be pretty good.”
I saw an article today that explained why Bob wasn’t in pictures sooner. His first test, for MGM, was so bad he got no results from it. Afterwards, when producers saw him in “Roberta” on Broadway, they invariably sent to MGM for his screen test. Nobody ever signed him. After about two years of that, Bob asked the help of a friend of his at MGM. This friend got the test, pretending a big shot wanted to see it, and took it out of the studio and burned it. A few months later, when Paramount wanted a test of Bob, they had to make a new one. This one was the real Hope – and so our dream man made the grade!
Five weeks ago.
Dear Diary,
Camp Wheeler, Georgia, played host to Bob tonight. Tony Romano, Bob’s guitarist who went with him to Alaska, and was here with him last month is now leading the band in Skinnay Ennis’s place. As I had expected, Colonna took over the spot usually devoted to Skinnay’s song, and Bob didn’t sing a note, except for this them song in the usual spot. The Thin Man leaves a bigger vacancy in the program that I had expected.
Once Vera Vague came rushing in almost bursting with news. “Do you remember that soldier who kissed me last night?” she asked. “Well, guess what he did today.” Bob: “What? regain consciousness?” Vera replied, “Yes. Now why don’t you?” Oh yes, they’re just one big happy family — you’ve heard of the cat family, haven’t you? “
Dear Diary,
The Dallas Athletic Club monthly magazine came out today. There was a nice article about Bob in it. The title is “Our One and Only Bob Hope.” The first sentences were, “He came! We saw! and he completely conquered the hearts and alienated the affections of the entire personnel of the DAC…” On being asked how he liked Dallas and the Club (purely original questions) he replied: “I think Dallas is great; the Club is wonderful, and The Little Mothers’ Club should be on the road.” (Again with The Little Mothers’ Club.)
The last paragraph was a well-deserved tribute: “Besides being an outstanding person, Bob Hope is doing an outstanding job for his country – we could do with a lot more like him, but that, we fear, can never be, as he is out one and only HOPE! God took Will Rogers, but being forever an understanding and a generous God, he gave us, in his place, Bob Hope. “
Dear Diary,
In the paper this morning there was an article that said Pat O’Brien stayed in the Little Mothers’ Club of the Dallas Athletic Club. When Bob was here (they had the same suite), he told me not to tell anyone he was staying at the Little Mothers’ Club. Now all I want to know is what is the Little Mothers’ Club, and why is it called that?
Dear Diary,
I can no longer say that Bob Hope was the last man to kiss me, because Pat O’Brien took over that honor today. He made five personal appearances today, and after the first one, I went to the rear exit of the Majestic and waited ’til he came out. I showed him the two pictures of us taken at Del Mar in 1941. It was pretty dark, so he asked, “Who’s this?” I said, “That’s you and I at Del Mar.” In the meantime he was standing at my left, holding my right hand and trying to see the pictures. He looked at them in a good light, and said, “Oh sure, you were on the broadcast that day. He gave me a big hug, said, “I’m glad to see you again, honey,” and kissed me on the left cheek.
Dear Diary,
It looks as though I won’t be seeing “They Got Me Covered” twenty-one times after all. I meant to do tonight, but the Girl Scouts had a sudden meeting, and since I missed the last one, I figured I should go to this one tonight. It’ll be down town only five more days, so I’d have to see it three times on four of those days. It can’t be done, especially with final exams next week. But it will always come to the neighborhood shows.
I got my second Linz Pin Award at school this morning. I guess I should be proud of them, but I can’t help being disappointed because I just made 91½ on my Bible Credit exam and didn’t get a Linz Pin for that.
—————
Dear Diary,
I guess I’ll be seeing “They Got Me Covered” about twenty-one times, because they fooled me and held it over for a third week. And I said not long ago that I intend to see it once for every day it stays in town. By then I’ll know Bob’s every movement by heart — as if I didn’t already. Incidentally, I actually mailed that letter to Bob today. I only hope it reaches him.
Sunset had an awards assembly this morning, and I received a silver initialed bracelet for my hundred per cent paper in the Interscholastic League Spelling Contest. I’ll also get a letter for that as soon as the order can be cleared.
Dear Diary,
I saw in the paper today that Bob has succeeded Kay Kyser as president of the campaign of “Records for Our Fighting Men, Inc.,” which it sponsored as a nonprofit organization by recording artists for the purpose of gathering old phonograph records. These old records are sold to recording companies and the money is used to supply camps at home and abroad with new records.
I did something today that I never thought I’d get the nerve to do. I actually wrote Bob a letter. But I’d better not speak too soon, because I haven’t mailed it yet, and when I do, he may not even get it.
Four weeks ago “mē oscula libavit.”
Dear Diary,
Bob entertained the Waves at Millegeville, Georgia, tonight, and I mean he really entertained. I haven’t heard him bette in months. He started with “Each of these Waves, whether her name be Mary or Patsy, is buying War Bonds to blow up another dam, Nazi.” Only he wasn’t too particular whether or not anyone noticed that comma. The whole show was devoted to the sale of War Bonds, with no commercials. They pulled one gag about me. At least I’d love to think Bob had me in mind at the time. It was supposed to be a War Bond auction; and Bob said, “I’ll give a little kiss to anyone who buys a $25. War Bond, for $50 I’ll give them a big kiss, and for $100 I’ll make it a real big kiss.” Wen said, “Here’s someone who’ll pay $10,000.” (Smack). Bob: “Well, how was that?” Colonna: “Okay, but give me back my mustache.”
Dear Diary,
Bing Crosby was the co-quiz master on the Quiz Kids Program tonight. Naturally he ribbed about Bob quite a bit, and “Road to Morocco” came in for quite a bit of discussion. One question was to identify sets of twins. One set was Philip Lang and Dennis Michael (Crosby).
Dear Diary,
“They Got Me Covered” has now passed before my eyes nine times, since I saw it twice more today. If I can just keep it up I can beat my record on “Road to Morocco” yet. And it’s not as though it pained me to see it over and over, because I honestly enjoy one of Bob’s pictures more every time I see it than I do the first time I see it.
Dear Diary,
I saw Robert in “They Got Me Covered” again tonight. Mother and Mattie Jo Compton went with me, or vica versa, and they came out raving about both the show and Bob.
I saw several articles today about the Academy Award Banquet. They all remarked on how dull they were, except in spots. A few of the excerpts are: “Awardless Bob Hope made one of his priceless wisecracks as he looked at the Oscars and quipped, ‘So near and yet so far.’ Hollywood has found no way to honor a man who can wake up its dead banquet and whose entertainment power is the equal of all Oscar winners combined.” “Every time Bob Hope (‘Bless you, you dear boy’) had a chance as m.c. he perked things up considerably. But there were long, dry non-Hope stretches. Typical of his nifties was the time he caressed the Oscars lined up behind him and sang, ‘You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To.'”
Dear Diary,
In Bob Burns’ Arkansas Traveler play tonight the Traveler was trying to find quarters for three WAVES on leave. He was asking them where they were from, and one of them answered, “Pomona.” Bob B. said, “Pomona?” She said, “Yes, haven’t you ever heard of it?” He replied, “Yes, I’ve heard Bob Hope talk about it.” I thought by now everyone had forgotten the way Bob used to make fun of Pomona. He hasn’t done it since his trip to Alaska, where, on a very precarious plane journey, he discovered the pilot was from Pomona! I’m not sure, but I imagine that Bob pledged to stop making fun of that little California town, at least for the duration.
Dear Diary,
I got two pictures of Bob today. In one of them he was greeting Paulette Goddard at a Command Performance broadcast with a kiss that was just a little (am I kidding?) more affectionate than the one I got three weeks ago. The other picture showed Bob gazing in bewilderment at a sergeant who looked amazingly like Jerry Colonna, except that the solder’s mustache drooped a little more. Jerry was standing by looking equally bewildered.
I could have kicked myself today for not listening to Bob’s show as it was rebroadcast. I was going to find out where he’ll be next week and write him. Now I’ll have to send it around the 29th, Bob’s birthday.
Dear Diary,
Bob was at the air corp pre-flight school at Montgomery, Alabama, tonight. He was forced to swallow his own words about Skinnay Ennis, because after next weeks show Skinnay goes into the armed forces. Bob brushed it off by saying, “They’re really down to loose ends now.” Bob was in the restaurant business tonight. He said something about the mushrooms looking like toadstools, but for some reason it came out as “toadstools.” Bob laughed and yelled, “It’s the lights I tell you!” Vera Vague asked Bob tonight if he remembered when he was a boy and slipped into watermelon patches and put one under his shirt. He said he remembered, and Vera said, “Well take it out; it slipped.”
Today is the first anniversary of the third time I saw Bob in person.
Dear Diary,
I dreamed about Bob last night for about the sixth time in the last two weeks. But the one last night was stranger than the others. I wish I had Daniel or Joseph to interpret it. I was in church, in my dream, and we had just finished a hymn. Bob walked up the aisle on my left, taking up the song books. He stopped when he got to me, and started a conversation. I don’t remember exactly what was said, except that he was the nicest and sweetest person I had ever talked to, and that eventually we started talking about “Command Performance.” I told him I’d hear him on it a week ago, and from somewhere he produced a newspaper with that program listed on a special short wave time table.
Dear Diary,
I saw Bob in “T. G. M. C.” two more times today. That makes six times in all. But give me time. After all, it’s been here only four days. I intend to see it once for every day it’s showing down town. If that’s the usual two weeks, I’ll see it fourteen times. Then again, they may hold it three weeks.
Dear Diary,
I saw “They Got Me Covered” twice today. I don’t know if I’ve ever said this before, but Bob Hope is handsome. I don’t mean cute, or distinguished, or anything else – I mean just plain handsome. And though they may deny it, other people (besides Mrs. Hope) would agree if they could think of him as something other than a comedian. they can’t understand how a comedian can be nice looking and still funny.
Dear Diary,
Naturally there were a couple of reviews of “They Got Me Covered” in the papers today. Both reviewers seemed to agree that Bob saved from oblivion a picture that “tried too hard” to be funny. I’ll admit that the plot was a bit thin, and that I never heard of a newspaperman as muddled as the one Bob portrayed, but I disagree with John Rosenfield that Bob is better at verbal gags than pantomimes. I say that Bob would have been as good in silent pictures as in talkies, and I’ve heard several writers voice the same opinion. The other reviewer said Bob’s personality made a success of the picture.
Dear Diary,
I saw Bob in “They Got Me Covered” twice this afternoon. I still can’t figure out if it was the clothes, or if it was the truth, but Bob looked thinner, and believe it or not, younger. than he did in “Road to Morocco,” or even “Star Spangled Rhythm.” But come to think of it, it must be true, because Bob looked nice and “smooth” a couple of weeks ago–and I certainly got close enough to notice.
Once in the picture Bob picked up a cigarette box, and when he opened the lid, Bing Crosby could be heard crooning his theme song. Bob looked at the box unbelievingly, slammed the lid, and said, “That guy’s haunting me.” That carries on the policy of having Bing, or his voice, in Bob’s last four pictures. Monotonous, isn’t it? Uh-uh.
Dear Diary,
There were several pictures of Bob in the evening paper, since “They Got Me Covered” opens at the Majestic tomorrow. For the first time in years I won’t be able to see the first showing, since I’ll be in school when it starts. However, I’ll be able to see the third or fourth, because I’m going down there right after school tomorrow. Incidentally, one of the pictures in the paper is one of the cutest I have from “T. G. M. C.” It shows Bob trying to get out a door, in his pajamas, and there are about twelve men crowding around the door. Bob’s head and shoulders are visible between the legs of one of the men, and Bob’s trying vainly to crawl on through.
Two week ago something swell happened to me. Mē ōscula lībāvit!
Dear Diary,
Bob was at Pensacola, Florida, tonight. He had more fun with swamps, just he did in La last week. He and Colonna and Frances and Skinnay were going through the swamps. Jerry was the guide, so when he came upon an alligator, he yelled back, “I’ll wave my hand at him to see if he’s friendly.’ Bob said, “Well is it friendly?” Jerry replied, “Certainly. It’s waving my hand back at me.” Frances sang “Let’s Get Lost” tonight, and every few minutes after that Bob would break out with snatches of it. He may have been kidding, but folly that guy can sing. Vera Vague asked Bob how he was enjoying the tour. He said, “Ah yes, first to Arizona, then Texas, then Louisiana. And all because of my fans.” “Where do we go next?” “Wherever my fans chase us.”
Dear Diary,
The play on the Screen Guild Theater tonight was “Nothing But the Truth.” Bob wasn’t in it, of course, since he’s somewhere on the opposite side of the continent from Hollywood right now, probably in Florida. Frank Morgan played the role Bob did in the picture, and I’m thankful that he had the good grace to change at least the majority of the jokes, and not use the same ones Bob did in the picture. That’s more than I can say for a certain comedian (?) whose initials are Milton Berle. He used not only Bob’s jokes, but even his straight lines in a radio adaptation of “My Favorite Blonde” not too far in the distant past.
Dear Diary,
Bob was on Command Performance today. He and Johnny Mercer and Judy Garland did snatches of several of Johnny’s songs together. The cutest one was “Strip Polka” or whatever the name of it is. They sang more of it than any of the others. The show was recorded before Bob left Hollywood last week.
Dear Diary,
I bought a little frame today and framed that article that was in the paper about Bob and me. Maybe it was a silly thing do, but I like to have it where I can see it without any trouble, just as a remembrance. Besides, it’s not every day I get on the front page (second section) of the city’s best paper, unless I put it down on the floor and stand on it.
Dear Diary,
I guess if anyone were to read this thing just for the last few months, they might think Garry Moore was a great rival to Bob in my affections. As a matter of fact, I do like Garry quite a bit, but not a great deal more than I did almost two years ago. It’s just that Garry’s really started on the way up now, and one of my favorite pastimes is rooting for comedians if I think they have what it takes. I’ve done the same, though in a smaller degree, in the cases of Jerry Lester, Zero Mostel, Herb Shriner, and believe it or not, that’s how I got started liking Bobby back in 1938.
Dear Diary,
I got the most beautiful new bedroom suite today that I ever rested my peepers on. It defies description, but it’s just exactly what I’ve always wanted. Just at the moment the bed doesn’t match the rest of the pieces, but a new one will be out from the factory in two weeks. The present bed is made exactly like the others, only in a different wood.
I got several pictures of Bob today. One of them showed him pumping a writer around the Paramount lot on a bicycle. Another accompanied an article about Bing Crosby, so naturally Bing’s in the picture, too. There’s a lot about Bob in the article too. (Who ever saw an article on either Bing or Bob that didn’t have almost as much about the other ?)
Dear Diary,
I went to the Majestic today to see “My Friend Flicka.” I’m glad I went there instead of to the Palace with Mother and Dad, because in addition to the picture I saw the previews of “They Got Me Covered,” starring Bob and Dottie. (That was a silly thing to say. Anybody knows who’s in that picture, after waiting for it to be released so long). Anyway, it will be here Thursday, so I’ll be spending the week-end at the Majestic. If I keep on doing that every time one of Bob’s pictures plays there, they’re going to start charging me room rent for that same chair I sit in every time (the eleventh row, first seat on the right aisle.)
Dear Diary,
It’s been a week now since you know what happened. People are still asking me all about it, and wanting to know if Bob is as cute off the screen as he is own. My adviser and history teacher seem to be having more fun about it than anyone else. I was sitting in advisory this morning, and she said to the class, “Muriel is sitting there thinking about Bob Hope again.” I said, “Not again — as usual.” She asked me what my boy friend thought about it. I replied, “I’ll let you know when I find one.” My history teacher was seeing if we had read the paper by asking us the latest news events. I held up my hand, and she said, “Anybody who can get on the first page ought to know what else is on it.”
Dear Diary,
Henry McLemore, in his column from London this morning, started writing an open letter to Bob. He said that since the rumor had gotten around that Bob might go overseas, it put all thoughts of second front out of their minds. He also promised Bob that if he would come he’d have a carpet of sergeants spread over the muddy fields for him, and he could use corporals and privates for stairs. In other words, I think H. M. would like B.H. to visit England, and things others agree with him. I’m sure he’s right too.
Information Please was in Cleveland, Ohio, tonight. Cleveland, of course, is the American home town of aforesaid B.H., London itself being the place of his birth.
Dear Diary,
“The Cat and the Canary” played a return engagement at a neighborhood theater today, so I saw it twice. That was the first of Bob’s pictures that I ever saw more than once. I think that was in the winter of 1939. Up until that time Bob was my favorite radio comedian, but about then he became my favorite everything — not only comedian, but glamour boy, lover, singer, etc. And look at me now!
Dear Diary,
Next to what actually happened Wednesday, I got my biggest thrill in a long time out of an article by Felix McKnight in this morning’s paper. The caption was “Hope Thrills Girl As He Sells Bonds.” It read, “Bob Hope has gone, bless him, but there’s one more story to be told.
“In the bustle of his bond sale at Dallas Country Club Wednesday afternoon a pretty, young girl shyly stepped up to Hope and caused him to sink to his knees in a swoon as she whispered she would pay $10,000 for his autograph.
“The story behind that is:
“The girl was 16-year-old Muriel Windham, student at Sunset High School, and she’s an A student. Her greatest weakness is Bob Hope.
“So her dad, Charles W. Windham, told her Tuesday night he would give her a $10,000 check for war bonds so she could meet Bob at his Wednesday rally.
“Hope treated her beautifully. He sat her down on the platform, left the mike occasionally to dash over, feel her pulse, stroke her brow and leave a light kiss on her forehead.
“Muriel came home in a daze –failed to sleep a wink all night. At last reports Thursday she still hadn’t gone to sleep!”
Dear Diary,
All day jokes Bob pulled yesterday kept coming back to me. For instance, a little blonde girl climbed up to the railing of the platform, just in front of Bob. He looked at her and said, “Madeleine Carroll, Jr. She must user Pepsodent. Show ’em, honey.” The little girl turned around to the audience and smiled, and she didn’t have a single tooth in front. Bob added, “I hope you use Ipana.” He pulled several gags at Skinnay Ennis’s expense. He said, “When Skinnay got off the train, he took a deep breath, and one lung turned to the other and said, ‘See, this is the stuff I’ve been telling you about.’ ” He went on, “Skinnay’s a little overdrawn at the blood bank, but otherwise he’s doing okay.” When a large plane flew over at a low altitude, Bob said, “Here come the men with my laundry. Just drop it anywhere, fellows.” That part went out over K.R.L.D.
Dear Diary,
It took me four years, but today it finally happened! Bob played golf at the Dallas Country Club today for the benefit of the Red Cross. There was a cute show before the match started, and at that show three autographed golf balls were auctioned off at five thousand dollars each, and a song by the Ink Spots got 35 thousand. There were several other celebrities there, including Jerry Colonna and Ben Hogan. Then they started the game, which covered 18 holes and lasted about 2½ hours. Bob, as usual, pulled a gag every time he opened his mouth, which was constantly. Most of them were insulting his golf game, such as, “I have four caddies – one to carry the clubs and three to carry me. My golf bag is a little heavy. It holds 12 clubs and a stomach pump. Every time I miss a shot I take poison.” He did so darn many cute things, especially on the platform before the game, that I’d like to record it all, but I must get down to what happened to me. After the game was over, Bob really went after the money. He auctioned a song by Jerry Colonna, a trombone solo by same, four bars of “Thanks For the Memory,” (that’s all he knew), a song by his guitarist, Tony Romano, Ben Hogan’s sweater, and anything else he could get his hands on. He was selling his autograph for anywhere from $18.75 to $500. I managed to push my way up to the platform, and with a little help I got up on it. I walked up to Mr. Jester, who had sponsored the show, and told him I’d buy a $10,000 bond for Bob’s autograph. (Daddy had given me the check from the company.) He took the check to Bob, who was at the microphone, and said, “Muriel Windham has $10,000 for your autograph.” Bob said, “Ten thousand dollars! Well come right up here, Muriel.” He then repeated my name and the amount into the microphone and signed the envelope the check had been in. I didn’t see this, but Mother told me later that when I first went up, Bob acted as if he were going to kiss me, then looked down as if to say, “No, I’d better not do that.” Then he raised his hand up to my face, again as if he were going to kiss me, and again he dropped his hand. He then leaned over and said to me under his breath, “I’m staying at the Dallas Athletic Club.” After introducing Jerry Colonna’s trombone solo, Bob walked over to me and actually kissed me on the forehead! That’s what took four years but finally happened, and it was worth waiting for. Several times after that he walked over and said one or two words to me and a great many times he stood right beside me and signed autographs. Things began to get a little slow about that time, so Bob started auctioning his sweater, hat, tie, and socks. Earl Jones was on that platform, and punched Bob and said, “How about giving your shirt to this girl who bought the $10,000 bond?” Bob smiled and said, “She’s been up here, hasn’t she?” Earl said, “Yeah, but for $10,000 she ought to get more than an autograph.” Bob replied, “Shirt, heck, I’ll give her my suit!” Naturally he didn’t come through since he was already calling himself Gypsy Rose Hope. He had to put on a spare jacket to keep from catching pneumonia. He finally broke things up by announcing that he had to attend two cocktail parties, where he hoped to sell a great many more bonds. And I’ll bet he does it too. As he was going off the platform he stopped in front of me, gave me a melting look in that famous way of his, patted me on the cheek, and said, “Good-by, you.” Then and there I was determined to go home and cut my toenails, because when my toes curled up, I stabbed myself.
Now I know that five is my lucky number, since this was the fifth, and definitely the best, time I’ve seen Bob. I thought I was doing good in 1942 to see Bob twice in three months, but now I’ve seen him twice in the last three days, and I like it much better that way! It seems that every time I see him he gets cuter and I like him better, if that could be. It also seems that every time I see him it gets a little more personal (very little.) The first time, I just watched him on the stage. The second time, I watched him play golf, and got pretty close to him several times. The third time, I saw him on the stage again, but it was a longer show, and afterwards I got those pieces of a letter that Bob threw away. The fourth time, day before yesterday, I went into his bedroom, got his autograph, and talked to him later. I guess I needn’t go into what happened today.
Incidentally, I still don’t know how the score came out. However, I imagine Bob and his partner won, since Bob played pretty good golf, and since his partner was Ben Hogan.
Dear Diary,
Bob was at Camp Hood, Texas, tonight of course. He really spread it on thick for the old Lone Star State. When he said something nice about it, the boys cheered, instead of booing as they did in Arizona last Tuesday. When Fran came on, Bob said, “Isn’t it wonderful how tall the grass grows here in Texas?” Frances said, “Yes, but I still think you should get a room in a hotel.” Bob said, “I did stay in a hotel last night. You know the Baker in Dallas?” Well it was nice of him to let me sleep in one of his empty flour barrels.” I don’t know why, but I can’t remember his best gags. One thing that struck me funny was Vera Vague’s calling Bob the “Lampasas Jackass.” Bob added, “All local stuff.” They pulled several gags and did one song that I heard them rehearsing yesterday, but they also left out a lot of it.
Dear Diary,
There were several things in the papers about Bob today. One of them was that he hired an ambulance to take from Kingman, Arizona, to Hollywood after his broadcast. In that way he could get some sleep. Another article I will quote in part: “The next road taken by Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which starts shooting after Bob returns from his trip abroad, will be Road to Utopia. I’d like to be in England when Bob gets there. His popularity in Britain is colossal. “That was Sheilah Graham.
There was also an article about me (among others) in the morning papers. Naturally it concerned the recent Interscholastic League Spelling Contest. It said that the high scoring papers were sent to Austin, for selection of state winners.
Dear Diary,
Sunset and Tech tied for first place in the city spelling contest today. All four of us (two members to each team) had perfect papers. Adamson and North Dallas tied for second, and Woodrow Wilson was last. Forest’s contestants didn’t show up.
On Milton Berle’s program tonight Berle was supposed to write some gags for Ilka Chase, so he had his writers released from the dungeon and brought into the studio. He said, “Ilka, see that little fellow on the end. He used to be with Bob Hope but he left and came to me.” Ilka asked him why he left Bob, and Berle said, “I have lighter chains.” Now I see why he’s always using so many of Bob’s jokes–he gets Bob’s used-up gag-writers.
Dear Diary,
Bob was at the Air Corps gunnery school at Kingman, Arizona, tonight, on the first stop in his latest tour of camps. He will broadcast from Camp Hood, Texas, next week. Virginia Bruce was Bob’s guest. Being in Arizona, they naturally did a western sketch. Bob and Skinnay sang a duet to the tune of “Jingle Jangle Jingle,” only instead of spurs, it was burrs. It seems that they backed into a cactus plant. Bob also said a lot tonight about Dorothy Lamour’s recent wedding. He said, “I guess Crosby and I will have to get a job now.” He also said that the pin which used to hold up Dottie’s sarong was in the Smithsonian Istitute with this placard, “Never before has so much depended on so little for so long.”
Dear Diary,
Garry Moore made a surprise appearance on Everything Goes, his old stomping grounds, this morning. I tuned in at first and heard the name Jim Bacchus, or Backache, or whatever he calls himself, and tuned back out again in a hurry. I can’t stand that guy. Later I wished I hadn’t tuned it off, because in the introduction of the second half I heard the words, “Our special guest Garry Moore.” He talked about buying was bonds.
I read in a magazine today that the sister-in-law who sued Bob recently, broke down and cried in court and said, “I hate to do this. I don’t want to hurt Bob.” The why did she do it? Huh?
Dear Diary,
There were articles in both papers today about Bob’s coming visit to our fair city. Every time I think about it I drool, just thinking that he’ll be so near and I may not be able to see him.
Dear Diary,
I read today that the recent lifting of the $25,000 salary limit revealed that not many stars had been affected by it anyway. It stated that Bob, who usually nets around a half a million annually, just kept on working in pictures and radio, as if nothing had been said about money.
Dear Diary,
The papers said today that Bob will be here on the nineteenth instead of the twenty-first as previously announced. I don’t guess it should make much difference to me when he’s going to be here, but just the same it does. All I hope is that he doesn’t sell bonds while he’s here. I know if he does I’ll want to buy one from him, and I just bought one last Saturday. On $2.75, including lunch money, a week, I just can’t afford to buy an $18.75 bond every two weeks. It just can’t be done. I feel smart buying two in thirteen months.
Dear Diary,
On Cresta Blanca Carnival tonight the commentator said, “In the Paramount picture, ‘Road to Morocco,’ there were four main characters, Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, Dorothy Lamour, and a camel. It’s been so long since I saw the picture I don’t remember who sang ‘Moonlight Becomes You,’ but I know it wasn’t the camel. Anyway, it’s a great song, and here’s Brad Reynolds to sing it for you.”
I read in the paper today that when Bob returns from his trip to armed forces overseas, he and Bing will make a picture called “Road to Utopia.” The location of “Utopia” will be kept secret until the picture is completed and released.
Dear Diary,
Bob was at the Waves camp in San Diego tonight. Herbert Marshall was his guest, and they did a clever sketch imitating each other. Bob gave his impression of Bert calling on a girl, the Bert retaliated with his impress of Bob doing likewise. In the middle of Herbert’s impersonation Bob broke in and said, “If that’s the way I sound, I’m glad I’m never home to tune me in.” Since Bert is English Bob started talking about England. He said, “You know, I was born in England. That’s where I met my first girl friend. She was standing with a group of girls on a famous London corner.” Her said, “Piccadilly?” Bob replied, “I’ll say I did.” Then he added, “I put that in for all the boys and girls listening. After all, why shouldn’t they suffer the same as the grownups?”
Dear Diary,
Bob and Bing really hit the road on the Lux Radio Theatre tonight. If you were listening for the plot, you might have recognized “Road to Morocco,” but the jokes (and I use the word freely) were completely different in most cases. After the play was over, Ginny Simms asked who usually won the golf matches they play together. In unison, Bing and Bob said, “It’s a lie!” Bing said, “How did you know what I was going to say?” Bob said, “I just figured you were going to tell the truth.” Ginny said, “Bob, Bing really lovers to play golf, doesn’t he?” Bob replied, “He ought to. He raises his own caddies. He’s stork mad, that boy.”
Dear Diary,
There was an article in the paper today about Bob’s coming tour of armed forces, and it stated that he would take along the whole gang including his announcer, Ken Niles. Surely Ken and Wen are related, with names like that, but I wonder if they’re twins.
Dear Diary,
I voted in the annual Star of Stars poll today. Naturally I voted for Bob in the usual three categories, best comedian, favorite program, and Star of Stars. Last year Bob won in the first two categories, but came in second to Don McNeill in the third. I’ll bet he wins all three again this year.
Dear Diary,
I finally did it. I wrote a fan letter today. But it wasn’t to Bob. I still can’t get nerve to do that. I have so many things to say to him that I don’t know what to leave out, what to say, or how to say what I decide on. This fan letter was to Garry Moore. It didn’t bother me so much to write him because I haven’t liked him quite as long as I have Bob, and not nearly as much. But if it’s the last act I perform on this earth, I’m going to write a long letter to Bob Hope, and when he reads it, he’s going to know it’s from the most avid fan he ever had.
Dear Diary,
I believe Garry (ain’t I getting informal?) was a little better tonight than he was last week. Jimmie Durante took over Howard Petrie’s job as assistant to Garry in the “I got a new job” department, even though Howard’s still with Garry. I never did especially care for Durante, but it’s kind of cute the way he calls Garry “Junior.” It’s like Bing’s calling Bob “Junior,” only in a repulsive sort of way. Incidentally, Garry’s “new job” was, (it took six minutes to say it, the way he does it) “I’m the punk who dunks skunks and monks for the gink who shrinks minks and links in a four-story fur storage store in a tiny town in Tennessee called Tacoma.”
By the way, Bing sounded like he was feeling better tonight. But he didn’t mention next Monday with Robert.
Dear Diary,
Bob was on the Mayor of the Town program tonight. The play was a characteristic Hope murder mystery, with all the trimmings, including, of course, the body with a knife in it. On discovering the body, Bob screamed, and the mayor said, “Bob, are you sure he’s dead?” Bob replied, “He’s either dead or that’s the worst case of 4F I’ve ever seen.” Later a girl entered the picture. It was dark, so Bob struck a match. When she could see him, the girl said, “Oh, you look just like the stooge in those Bing Crosby pictures. I think he’s smooth. Is he really married?” Bob said, “Is he married? Those aren’t gremlins running around his house.”
Dear Diary,
Bob was so good tonight I hardly know where to begin. He was at the Navy air training base at Los Alomitos, California. For one thing, he sounded like his old self again. When he pulled a bad one, he had a comeback. Once he was talking about spring cleaning. He said, “I wanted to clean out my refrigerator, but my relatives beat me to it.” It was greeted by almost dead silence. He said, “That was a joke!” The was he said it brought down the roof, then he added, “Well, I had to convince myself, didn’t I?” Later he hit another snag, almost as bad, and said (with that wonderful laugh I never hear enough of), “I gave ’em a chance.” That all happened so quickly it was hard to catch, but it was worth listening for.
Dear Diary,
When Cecil B. DeMille started to announce next week’s play on his show tonight he said, “The telegram will explain it better than I can.” The telegram read like this: “We appreciate your invitation to the clambake next week. Due to the fuel shortage, please send camel to pick us up on the road to Paramount.” To hear the audience sigh and applaud, you’d know that C.B. didn’t need to say another word. But when he did say, “Signed, Bing Crosby and Bob Hope,” the whole audience broke loose. Naturally, the play will be “Road to Morocco.” The one hitch is that Ginny Simms will take Dorothy Lamour’s place. At that point the audience groaned a little.
Dear Diary,
I saw a newsreel of the recent Academy Award banquet today. Bob was shown briefly – too briefly to suit me. But then I never have gotten enough of him, on the screen or off, especially off. Needless to say, he was cute in the little bit they showed of him. (Someday I’m going to think of a better word than “cute.”)
Dear Diary,
On the Camel Caravan tonight, Jack Carson was interviewing a singer. She was actually Cobina, of the Brenda and Cobina team, but no one said so. She hit a very sour high C, and Carson insulted her. She said, “I’ll have you know I once sang on Bob Hope’s program.” J.C. said, “Well, in that case, maybe I could use you.” She said, “You could use Bob Hope more.” (No truer word has been spoken.)
I passed one of the lower-class movie houses down town today. The show was “Never Say Die,” with Bob, Martha Rate, and Andy Devine. I wanted to see it so bad it hurt, but I valued my life enough not to go in.
Dear Diary,
Well, Mr. Moore did it tonight. He has been better, but he did it. He started the show by drooling (and I mean drooling) over Camel cigarettes. Howard Petrie, the announcer, said, “Now wait a minute, Garry, that’s my job. Besides, it’s too early for a commercial.” Garry gasped, “Too early! Howard, for seven years I’ve waited, and you say it’s too early. Now I can be funny like other comedians-for money!” Incidentally, the show got good audience reaction.
I read today that while the Hopes were visiting the Ray Millands recently, Dolores went upstairs to get her coat, and in coming down, fell down two or three steps (she wasn’t hurt). Bob, who was playing gin rummy, looked down at her and said, “She’ll do anything for a laugh.”
Dear Diary,
Bob wasn’t on The Mayor of the Town tonight. Both Friday’s and today’s papers said he was to be on tonight, but he wasn’t. However, he was announced for next week. The announcer said, “Be sure to tune in next week, because the mayor is expecting a guest. He’s not a political character, or even an underworld character. He’s just a character. Next week Bob Hope will be the mayor’s guest.”
Even though he will be on next week, it was quite a disappointment not to have heard him tonight. I was so comfortable in bed, and ready for anything, but nothing happened.
Dear Diary,
Bob was in top form tonight. The show originated from the merchant seamen’s training base at Catalina. Merle Oberon was his guest. One of the cutest things on the show was the commercial. Wen Niles sang it to the tune of “Moonlight Becomes You,” and Bob broke in every other word with something like, “Okay, now use your other tonsil,” or “I always wondered what because of Bobby Breen.” After Wen stopped singing, and talked for a while, then he and Bob did a duet. Wen then presented a letter from Bing Crosby saying, “Your singing is as good as Hopes’s jokes.” Then Wen added, “Isn’t that wonderful ? I’m so happy. Now I can sue him for libel.” Bob has so many good jokes tonight I can’t think of all of them. In fact, I can’t think of any of them.
Dear Diary,
The following article was in the paper today: “Bob Hope will include North Africa in his tour of the United States, England, and Ireland. Bob will be away from Hollywood four months. When he returns he will write a book on his experiences in Army camps (this will include his trip to Alaska.). It will be a little more serious than his maiden effort at literature, They Got Me Covered, which circulated at the rate of something like three million copies. Only the Bible can top it.”
I hope this next book’s longer.
Dear Diary,
According to the morning pepper Bing Crosby has made tests for the role of Will Rogers. It’s supposed to be a secret. Ye cats! I never would have thought of Bing for that role. I guess next they’ll be getting Bob to play in something like “The Life and Loves of Orson Welles.”
Dear Diary,
I heard Garry Moore’s morning show for the last time this morning. It seems that now that he’s sponsored, he doesn’t have time for daily shows.
There was an article about Bob in the paper today, but due to shortage of writing space on Saturdays, I can’t write it in this little “batch of blackmail bate.” I’ll put it in my scrap book. Read it there.
Dear Diary,
Garry Moore is really getting up in the world. The Abbot and Costello show is going off the air temporarily until Costello recovers from a severe case of rheumatic fever. In the meantime another show will take its place- a show boasting Garry Moore as master of ceremonies, and whisperingly admitting that Jimmy Durante is the star. However, that will be short-lived. Bob will be getting a new and dangerous competitor, but I believe Zoot Snoot can take all comers. He’s managed to stay on top of the gag-heap so far, so I guess he can continue to do so, if he tries.
Muriel Windham's Diary 