700 Sundays by Billy Crystal

Author:Billy Crystal
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Autobiography, Biography & Autobiography, Billy, Entertainment & Performing Arts - General, Comedians, General, United States, Crystal, Personal Memoirs, Entertainment & Performing Arts, Individual Actors And Actresses, Comedians - United States, Comedy (Performing Arts), Biography, Entertainment & Performing Arts - Actors & Actresses
ISBN: 9780446698511
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2006-10-24T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

Around this time Uncle Berns really entered our lives, and he would forever change them. A wild man, a Zero Mostel kind of personality, Berns was a mystical man with shoulder-length white hair, and a long white beard, a Santa Claus on acid. He could do magic tricks, and mime. He loved to be silly and make people laugh. Everyone was pulled to him, as if he were a magnet. He is an artist, and an art dealer, who actually represented Zero, who was a talented painter. Berns taught us about color and expression. He equated comedy and art. “Who’s funnier than Picasso? Everyone has three eyes and six tits!”

He had his own art gallery in Manhattan, so on an occasional Sunday, we’d go visit him in the gallery, and sit with some of his painters, and listen to their stories. Berns would take us to museums, and point out the “moments” in a painting, almost as if they were movements of a symphony. It was never boring, because he was such a great teacher. Berns touched all of us in different ways. It was like we were all the best parts of him. Joel could always draw and paint, so Berns and he would sketch together. Rip could sing beautifully and Berns had a big baritone voice, so they would sing spirituals together. And Berns and I? We were just funny together. He loved to perform for anybody, never self-conscious, always totally free, a silly kind of genius, and he gave us the courage to get up and perform in almost any situation. As I think back, Dad was never threatened by our relationship with his brother. He loved seeing us play with this St. Bernard of an uncle. In a way, Berns was one of the best gifts he ever gave us.

Then one day, Dad brought home this record from the Commodore Music Shop. It was a Spike Jones record. These were novelty records. Spike would have all different kinds of sound effects, gunshots, whistles, dog barks, all perfectly integrated into his arrangements. I never heard such crazy stuff in my life. Uncle Berns said, “Lip-sync it and do it for the family.” I memorized every moment of “You Always Hurt the One You Love,” got it down perfectly, every whistle, gunshot and scream. They all loved it. The living room was my room now.

The three of us were always performing for the family. Rip would sing, Joel and I would do something together, and then I would close the show. It’s still the best room I have ever worked. Every family event was an opening night to us. Mom would even pack our props in a small suitcase if we were going “on the road” to Grandma’s house, or an uncle’s home. It was expected of us.

There would be a great meal, and after the cake and cigars would be the show. We would get paid with change. My cousin Edith would give me dimes, and I would stick them on my perspiring forehead.

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