I Love Her, That's Why! An Autobiography by George Burns & Cynthia Hobart Lindsay

Author:George Burns & Cynthia Hobart Lindsay [Burns, George & Lindsay, Cynthia Hobart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs
ISBN: 9781258125660
Google: p0emngEACAAJ
Publisher: Literary Licensing LLC
Published: 2011-10-01T05:00:00+00:00

12. “Lambchops”

I went straight to Mamma to tell her the news. I was almost sure she’d be happy about it, but a few things worried me. I got it out right away as I walked into the house—before even “Hello.” “Mamma,” I said, “Gracie and I are going to be married.” She looked up from her sewing. “Oh,” she said. “So now she loves you too. It took a long time, didn’t it, son?” “Yes,” I said, “but Mamma, there’s one thing I have to talk to you about. Gracie’s a Catholic, and I’m a Jew, and—” “Well,” she interrupted, “if her mother doesn’t mind, I think it’s wonderful.”

So I bought the ring. I was able to get it wholesale from a friend I’d known when I was in the garment business. It was a thirty-five-dollar ring, and I got it for fifteen. Gracie still wears it. She’s picked up a few sparkly things to go with it, now. As a matter of fact, she has enough so she can change them around a little, but the ring she never takes off.

We started out on the Gus Sun circuit, supposedly doing “Dizzy,” but actually we were slipping in a little more of “Lambchops” every performance. Finally we got so mixed up that one afternoon we did all of “Dizzy” and all of “Lambchops” and couldn’t get off.

The manager gave us a terrible bawling out. “Listen,” he said, “if I’d wanted an act to stay on stage thirty-two minutes I’d have hired a Fanchon and Marco Unit.”

This didn’t dampen our spirits. Nothing could have. I was walking on air. The pressure was off— Gracie was going to be mine. I got more relaxed in the act; and as I became less of a gentleman, I became more of an actor. In between shows we sat in the dressing room and worked on the act and talked. It was wonderful, after keeping still so long, to have someone to talk to about Gracie. Especially when the person was Gracie.

There were no windows in the dressing rooms, but the sunlight streamed in. The two weeks on the road before we were married was a preamble to a honeymoon. We worked hard on the act—after all, our future was at stake, and at night after the show we went dancing. Here I was sure of myself. It was one thing I knew I was good at, and I gained more confidence by displaying the talent for Gracie.

The audiences were great; the small towns seemed big; the hotels were fine; the food was first-rate— even the ketchup seemed like a vintage brand. When I started to share the same powder puff with Gracie, I knew everything was going to be all right.

The night before we were to leave for Cleveland to be married, we were walking out the front door of the theater carrying our grips. The theater was dark except for one work light on the stage. They were taking down the scenery. From way backstage, the manager called, “Hey, Burns.

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