B00AZRHQKA EBOK by Garson Kanin Read Free Book Online Page A

Someday you’ll be able to say, “I knew her when.” Or, “I used to buy her coffee.” By the way, anybody wants to buy me coffee, O.K. Light, no sugar.
    HIGH HOLIDAYS : Mr. Clune wishes to inform the Hebrew members of the company (if any) that he has received a special dispensation from The Chief Rabbi of Show Business to rehearse on both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, since “rehearsing” is not—by Talmudic Law—considered “work.” Did you all know that? Seriously, folks—if anyone plans to take either or both of those days off—please inform Clay Botsford or Midge as soon as possible.
    RUNNING ORDER : The latest running order is dated September 1, and is mimeographed on blue stock. If you do not have a copy of this, contact Midge Maghakian, who will provide it. In any case, please destroy any other versions. The rewrite of Act I, Scene 3, will be distributed at rehearsal on Wednesday.
    QUOTE TO REMEMBER :
    “On with the dance, let the joy be unrefined.”
    Carrie Watson, star madam
    of the World’s Fair, 1893
    There are now 39 rehearsal days remaining until the Boston opening.

4
    First day of rehearsal for the full company. The dancers have been at it for two weeks, the singers, for one—but this afternoon, at 3:00 p.m., the full company assembles on the stage of The Imperial Theatre for a go-through of the whole show.
    They begin to arrive shortly after 2:00. What an eager bunch! Promptly at 3:00, Clay calls for order and there is the required Equity procedure. A representative is there to check contracts, the rules are read, a Deputy is elected (Gracie Mills, who plays one of the Everleigh sisters).
    Each member of the staff, cast, and crew has been given a paste-on badge bearing his or her name and the name of the part he or she is playing. Or position on the show.
    The girls are stunning, the men interesting. Hy Balaban is at the piano, doing some last-minute coaching.
    Hy is the composer. He looks like Pablo Picasso with hair. Piercing eyes, an infectious laugh. A girl-watcher of the first water. He plays beautifully and although his voice is not much, he performs the songs better than anyone. I wonder what his face looks like without the cigar in it? His lyricist (on this show) is Fred Monroe (formerly Monroe Friedman), a lanky, languid, moody type. He seems to take little joy in life or work or the people around him. Sad. But his lyrics are witty and winning and often wonderfully romantic.
    During the Equity hour, Clay comes up to me and asks, “Have you seen Mr. Clune?”
    “No. Not today.”
    “He isn’t here.”
    “I noticed that.”
    “Call the office. If he’s not there—try The Plaza.”
    He was not at the office. I knew he would not be at home—how could he be on the first day of rehearsal? But I have learned to take orders and carry them out no matter how wild they seem.
    I was stunned when he answered the phone in his suite at The Plaza.
    “ Hello! ” Angry.
    I could not speak.
    “ Hello!! ” A wild cry.
    “Mr. Clune?”
    “Where the hell are you? Where is everybody? What the fuck’s going? God damn it!”
    “I’m at the theatre, Mr. Clune. So is everyone.”
    “ What theatre?”
    “The Imperial, of course.”
    “Don’t give me that. I’ve been to The Imperial this morning. Twice. There was nobody. It’s all locked up. I banged—but there was nobody in the lobby.”
    “Oh,” I said, half to myself. “The front.”
    “What? I can’t hear you.”
    “The stage door, Mr. Clune. It’s on Forty- sixth Street.”
    “Well, nobody told me , God damn it!”
    He hung up.
    I sought out Clay and told him. He could scarcely believe it. He did not laugh, or even smile. He merely shook his head.
    “Don’t tell anyone,” he said. “It’s one of those damnable repeatable things.”
    “No, of course not.”
    “And let’s see if we can stall the start for a while. I’ll get Hy to run a couple of Act Two numbers, and do the girls once with the new 'Loving Living’