Hello, I Must be Going

by Charlotte Chandler

  “An example of Groucho’s never taking his own success for granted: One evening we were having dinner at my house, and someone suggested that Groucho take a vacation for three or four weeks, and let someone else take over You Bet Your Life. And Groucho said, ‘No I’m not going to do it.’ I said, ‘It sounds like a great idea.’ ‘No, not really. What if the person who comes out and does the show instead of me is so good they don’t want me back?’

  “At the time, shows like The $64,000 Question were on, a lot of big-money giveaway shows; and at that time Groucho’s top prize was sixty-four dollars. So it was obvious that people were not listening to that show just because they were trying to win those prizes. It was Groucho. Yet, he didn’t want to be away for a few weeks lest they could replace him.

  “As Groucho got older, and after he and Eden were divorced, I think he became very lonely. I introduced him to a girl who was attractive, a writer and an actress and very bright, and he responded to her. She came to me and said, ‘I don’t know what to do. Groucho wants me to move in with him, and travel with him.’ And she said, ‘You know, I really can’t devote my life to doing that.’ I don’t think it was sex, but he felt very strongly the need for companionship. There was a series of girls around him all the time. Then, when Erin came along, she fulfilled his needs.

  “I think most people have aggressions in one form or another, but society has taught us that when we don’t like people or when people do something we disapprove of, we keep quiet about it. We don’t speak out, and we’re not honest about it. For whatever reasons, Groucho started out very early to say exactly what was on his mind. And out of that he built up a whole career. Because of that people thought he was not serious. They took insults from him that would have gotten anyone else a punch in the nose.

  “He would say outrageous things to very important people. It takes a certain kind of mentality to do that. I was going to say a certain kind of security, but, all in all, I don’t really think that’s it. There’s something in him that allows him to say these outrageous things to people, except that they think he is joking about it. But the truth is, he means every word he says, although he’s mellowed over the years. He doesn’t insult people he likes.”

  Jorja Sheldon added:

  “Sometimes I look at him when he first comes in, dropping by our house in the late morning, and he smiles and I know exactly what he looked like when he was five years old, and his aunt came in and said, ‘What beautiful eyes you have, Julius.’ Anyway, when Groucho comes in the morning, and he smiles, I see that five-year-old boy, and I’m pleased to know him.”

  On Sunday when the Sheldons had Groucho, Erin, Marty Allen and his wife, “Frenchy,” and me over for brunch, Sidney Sheldon and Groucho reminisced about the early days of their friendship:

  GROUCHO

  Where’s the first place I met you? M-G-M?

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  No, it was Madam Kitty’s. Actually, Grouch, we met at the Granets’.

  ERIN

  Did Groucho take to you immediately?

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  I don’t know. I think we started bantering back and forth. I was at M-G-M under contract, producing and writing. I did Easter Parade, Annie Get Your Gun, and it was that period. I gave him a business card with my name on it.

  GROUCHO

  And I immediately destroyed it.

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  Yeah, I took to him immediately. Every Thanksgiving since, we’ve had Groucho to the house. We had a house that was quite a bit larger than this, and we would have eighty, a hundred people in for Thanksgiving dinner. It was traditional. Groucho would come over and he’d say, “I don’t eat turkey.” Talk about Mr. Gracious at a dinner party!

  JORJA SHELDON

  You know, Groucho always changed his drink request. One time it’s a Bushmill he wants, so I say, “Okay, I’ve gotta have a bottle of Bushmill…”

  GROUCHO

  Now it’s Irish whiskey.

  JORJA SHELDON

  “…for Groucho.” So, I have it there. Groucho comes in and I say, “Bushmill, is it?” “No. Don’t you have any Campari? Everybody has Campari.” Well, of course I didn’t have Campari. So I’d get another bottle. We have in storage at least fifteen bottles with one drink missing.

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  He’d keep switching each time.

  JORJA SHELDON

  And then he’d berate me because I didn’t have this strange thing he’s drinking.

  GROUCHO

  Now I don’t drink at all.

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  But you still berate her. How do you explain that?

  GROUCHO

  Well, I was entitled to.

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  We were driving from a restaurant one day, and a police car pulls me over. I’m at the wheel. Before I could say anything, Groucho leans out the window and says, “You’re absolutely right, officer. He should be put in jail.” All I did was have a bright light on, because it wasn’t working properly. But by the time Groucho was through, I was almost arrested.

  GROUCHO

  I was picked up by a cop one day on a motorcycle. He came over to me and said, “Let me see your driver’s card.” I whipped out a cigar and gave it to him. He says, “You know, you took the wrong lane on Wilshire Boulevard.” I said, “Well, I’m sorry, but those things happen.” He says, “I want to ask you one question: Why aren’t there more Laurel and Hardy movies on television?”

  MARTY ALLEN

  I met your brother Chico once. Chico was at the Sands Hotel, and I was there with Nat Cole. I did a pantomime. After the show, I was standing with Nat, and Chico walked by. I didn’t know he was in the audience. He touched my hand and he says, “My brother Harpo would have loved your pantomime.” When he said that to me, I went eight feet in the air. Nat Cole said, “What happened?” I told him what happened, and he said, “Well, you want to close the show?” I said, “I’d better, ’cause I’m flying!”

  GROUCHO

  You’re a funny man under all that hair. (To Marty Allen’s wife) My father’s name was Frenchie too. But he wasn’t as pretty as you. (They get up to leave) Can I take one of these eggs home for my cook?

  SIDNEY SHELDON

  It’s hard-boiled. It’s an Easter egg.

  GROUCHO

  I think I’ll leave it here if you’re gonna act that way. I don’t need your eggs.

  MAX GORDON

  In his book Max Gordon Presents, Max Gordon wrote under a picture of a greasepaint-mustached Groucho, “This man needs no introduction. He was as mad then as he is now, and he has always been one of my dearest friends.” On the photo Groucho had written, “To Max Salpeter, with affection, from Dr. Hackenbush.”

  Max Salpeter, later known as Max Gordon, was the producer who brought plays like Three’s a Crowd, The Band Wagon, The Cat and the Fiddle, Design for Living, Roberta, The Shining Hour, Dodszvorth, The Great Waltz, Ethan Frome, The Women, My Sister Eileen, Junior Miss, The Late George Apley, Born Yesterday, and The Sold Gold Cadillac to Broadway. I talked with him in his New York apartment where he shared with me his recollections:

  MAX GORDON

  My first meeting with the boys was about 1920. Then, of course, they had just come in with a show that opened in Philadelphia and came into the Casino Theatre. As you probably know, they were a big hit, and we were very friendly. In fact, every time Harpo Marx came into New York, the first thing he did was to call me up, have dinner with us, and we would arrange for a show—take him to a show, or whatever he had in mind. When I was sick with a breakdown once, Harpo came up to see me, and when he went out the door, he threw a thousand dollars on my bed. Groucho called up the next day and said, “I want you to know that I have fifty percent of that.” So, you see, it was a very warm relationship.

  Then, I think, it was Groucho that said to me, “Why don’t you come out and help us with Duck Soup? Go see Lasky. He can’t give you any money, but go and see him, and see what.” So I went
to see Lasky. Of course, they were broke then—it was in 1932, 1933, when things were very bad—and Lasky made a deal with me for $250 a week plus that as soon as they got their money back with the picture, I was to get $10,000. Now, about fifteen years elapsed, and one day I got a call from Gummo Marx that reminded me about this thing. Of course, I’d forgotten all about it. So I got $10,000 more for that.

  Then, every time Groucho came to New York, we would have dinner right away. Of course he was a great help for me in my first musical, Three’s a Crowd. He wrote a sketch for it, too. He was really interested, and he was very helpful, and we were so close. I would go out of town with him, we were that close. I tell you, he was so wonderful with me for fifty years, until finally the last words I had with him.

  I read a wonderful notice in The New Yorker about Groucho making a speech at T. S. Eliot’s funeral. But this time Groucho had said something that I thought was in bad taste, trying to get a laugh. So I called him. I said, “Gee whiz, you shouldn’t have said that. This man’s dead; it’s in bad taste.” He says, “Well, I’m a comedian.” And I says, “You don’t have to be on all the time,” which I regretted. I haven’t heard from him since. I saw him in some audition film about three or four years ago, and I thought he was great. Then I saw that show about the Marx Brothers, what was it called?

  I

  Minnie’s Boys. Did you know Minnie Marx?

  MAX GORDON

  His mother, no. I never knew his mother. I knew his father. Sam was wonderful. Of course, you’re too young to have heard Harpo’s imitation of his father. It was just great. Well, I don’t remember a thing Sam Marx said, except that he was funny, and Harpo did this great imitation of him.

  I

  What do you remember about the older brothers?

  MAX GORDON

  Chico, of course, was the opposite of Groucho. He was a gambler, and he lived a wonderful life—for Chico. He was irresponsible. Gummo was the businessman, you know. He became the business manager. Have you seen Groucho recently?

  I

  I was there for his eighty-fifth birthday.

  MAX GORDON

  When I knew him he was so full of vigor. You know, he said that one thing I didn’t like about T. S. Eliot. But, in general, he had taste. He would get off some remarks, though. Once I said something about my successes, and he said, “Oh, don’t tell me about your successes.” But, as I said, he was still wonderful with me. I would go up to places like New Haven, and I would go to their matinees. Then we would go places, and he’d stay over with me, or I’d stay over with him. What else can I tell you?

  I

  In the years that you had known Groucho, had you ever before criticized negatively anything he had done?

  MAX GORDON

  Oh no. Nobody dared; he’d let out that onslaught, and no one could answer him. But we never had any differences until this thing with T. S. Eliot happened. It was the first time in all those years. Before that, I used to call him all the time. He used to call me by my right name, Salpeter. And I got loads of lovable letters from him.

  I

  He always tells people about your calling him up when the stock market crashed in 1929.

  MAX GORDON

  I remember that very clearly. The market broke, and I called him up and said, “The jig is up.”

  I

  I’ve heard Groucho tell that story to Jack Lemmon, and to Woody Allen.

  MAX GORDON

  Did you know I discovered Woody Allen? He was playing a café. I saw him, and I thought he was wonderful. I was going to do a play with him, but I had a complete nervous breakdown. I don’t know what else I can tell you. Groucho’s a great comedian, a genius. No question about it, he’s an outstanding man. And Groucho was smart about his money. He was very conservative and took care of his money. Now he’s a rich man, a very rich man. He has that young woman with him. When you look back on Groucho’s life, he’s had problems. But now I think he’s a very happy man. That’s about all.

  HARRY TUGEND

  Fred Allen combined the professional skills most respected by Groucho: that of the writer and that of the performer. Not surprisingly, he was a friend of Groucho’s and they kept up a witty correspondence through the years. Allen’s radio show producer and good friend was Harry Tugend, an ex-performer and writer himself from vaudeville days. Later Tugend became a Hollywood producer and screenwriter; more recently he produced television series and specials.

  As well as being a friend of all the Marx Brothers, Harry Tugend was also associated with them professionally. It was he who produced the Marx Brothers’ swan song (Groucho called it a “swan dive”), The Incredible Jewel Robbery, the last show business appearance of the three Marx Brothers together, on television. He also produced a TV version of Time for Elizabeth, starring Groucho and Eden. He recalled some of his memories of Groucho for me:

  “He did Time for Elizabeth in summer stock over and over and over again, oh, I don’t know how many times. And Eden had also done it. But Groucho insisted on having what we call ‘idiot cards’ all around so he could see the lines. He was afraid he’d muck the lines! Which was ridiculous. He’d been playing the thing besides having written it, but he’s such a perfectionist.

  “So I had to do it, and I did it until there was one speech that came along—a rather long monologue—which he delivered into a mirror speaking to himself. It was a sort of introspective thing in which he started analyzing himself, and so on. I saw no reason why he should have to have the teleprompter or idiot cards for it, because he had to look into the mirror all the time.

  “So I said, ‘Groucho, for heaven’s sake, will you try it once without the damn idiot cards all over?’ He used to make fun of idiot cards. Anyway, I said, ‘I’m willing to waste film. Let’s try it as you wrote it and as you’ve done it over and over again, looking into the mirror without the damn cards.’ So he mumbled, swore, and did it in one take, without a single mistake. And yet, you never knew, they never knew, what they would do in a play onstage. Groucho would ad-lib anything at all, and it could throw everyone completely off their cues.

  “He appeared at several of the Screen Writers Guild affairs. Up until a couple of years ago, they were the greatest shows in town, because you had the finest writers, the Billy Wilders, the Nunnally Johnsons, and everyone else contributing the material. We’d get a terrific show, and Groucho was in several of them.

  “Very fine material. One was a satire on You Bet Your Life where he was interrogating Norman Krasna and Jerry Wald, who then supposedly were running RKO for Howard Hughes, but they had never seen him. They had been there almost seven months and had never made a picture. It was hilarious. At one time Groucho even agreed to be master of ceremonies for the evening. And his material, whether it was ad-libbed or prepared, always seemed ad-libbed. He was so wonderful he got the greatest standing ovation I have ever seen in any of the Screen Writers Guild shows. It was absolutely fantastic.

  “He was always going for the laugh. If it wasn’t funny and you didn’t laugh, it didn’t bother him. So every once in a while, he’d hit one and it was funny, and you’d laugh. He just took that as a matter of course. He was just letting it pour out, and when he hit a funny line and you laughed, he was gratified.

  “We used to play golf with him. I remember one time my wife and I were playing with him in Palm Springs. You had to have a golf cart because there were no caddies. My wife was a hundred yards from the green and wondering what club to use. She turned and said, ‘What club do you think I ought to use to get to the green?’ And Groucho, without any hesitation, said, ‘Use the golf cart!’ Which was typical.

  “I remember he took me to see Woody Allen, whom he admired very much, and Woody vice versa. He said, ‘Come on, let’s go to Vegas,’ and we went there. Woody Allen was giving out with his routine, which was way over the head of most of the audience. Afterwards we went backstage to see him. He admired Woody as a writer because Woody wrote his own material.

  “
And his reading was along those lines. He’d get The Atlantic Monthly. I think his original ambition was to be a doctor. Somewhere early that got lost. Of course, his mother was the one who pushed him into show business.

  “At the opening of I’ll Say She Is, their first Broadway show, she had broken her hip, and it was in a cast. So before the box office was opened, they carried her and put her into a box seat, right next to the stage and facing the stage. And she said, ‘No, no, no, no. Turn me around.’ She’d been to rehearsals. ‘I know what they’re gonna say. I want to see how the audience reacts.’ So she was facing the audience at the opening of that show.

  “His father was in the audience, too. And two people behind him had been arguing about whether they were brothers or not. Really brothers. And Groucho’s father was listening to their conversation. With an accent—he was quite a character—he turned around to this fellow who said they are not really brothers and said, ‘You wanna bet?’ And this fellow says, ‘Yes.’ And Groucho’s father said, ‘What are the odds?’

  “Groucho is a man who hated publicity, who hated people rushing around for his autograph. He couldn’t stand the sort of thing that stars are usually looking forward to. And yet there was another side of him, where at times he’d want to be known. I remember when we went to Vegas to see the Woody Allen show. We stayed at the hotel, and he said, ‘Let’s go down and take a walk.’ So we went and walked through the lobby, and he had this funny hat with a feather in it on, and he was stopped mostly by young girls.