Monday, September 05, 2005
Joan
Joan Rivers
(Typical article, one of very many about her: Time magazine, Oct. 21, 1966., page 61.)
My parents' friends knew lots of "eligible" single girls (intelligent and wealthy), who were suggested to me for blind dates. All were Jewish. Most of them were active in the arts (theater, advertising, publishing, etc.), because my parents friends knew I had knowledge (and connections) in that direction, and thus there might be mutual attractiveness. I did date most of those girls, honestly and open-mindedly looking for a wife, although they all turned out to be too extroverted to suit me.
Even though I was not by nature “extroverted” (unless I made myself act that way), there were some factors that operated in my favor. Evidently there was a scarcity of young men who had good jobs, and were fairly good looking, but were still “sensitive” and interested in the arts. (Most young men seemed to be lacking in either the first or the last of those.) I had a fairly good income (complete with a Jaguar sedan!), and had been in the Army and been to Europe, but I was also compatible with arty types and could “talk their talk,” any time. The girls’ parents were getting desperate for halfway-decent sons-in-law, and I believe the girls could see immediately that their parents would like me.
Joan Rivers (whose real last name was Molinsky) had been in “Second City Review” (along with Woody Allen and several other actors who later became famous), but she was unable to find another theatrical job at the time I took her out on a blind date (around 1962). She was not famous yet. I forget most of the places where I took her, but they worked out just great. One place was a party at Milton Avery’s apt., where Joan and March happily renewed acquaintance, not having seen each other since their friendship at Barnard in the 1950s.
After only a few dates, Joan wanted me to meet her parents. So at the end of an evening out, I took her home to her parents' (big!) house in Scarsdale, or someplace like that (maybe Mamaroneck). But it was very late, and the lights were out because her parents were asleep, so I just left her at the doorstep.
One thing I didn’t like about her (and Carol Bacher) was that any time she saw a male acquaintance (like in a crowd coming out of a theater), Carol and that guy would run up and kiss each other. And of course, there were many other such things that were just "not me."
I was somewhat worried that, if I ever married one of those hotshot women (like Carol Bacher, for instance), I would always be in the shadows while they were in the limelight, and it might get pretty depressing. It turned out that Joan married a lawyer, and after she got super-famous, he got so depressed that he committed suicide. She very publicly announced that she felt extremely guilty about not giving him more attention, and in fact she got depressed about it herself, and news media said she couldn't work for about a year, due to her guilt feelings.
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* An ad exec that I met on a similar blind date. She was the daughter of William A. Bacher, producer of the Broadway play "Seventh Heaven," and the hit movie "Leave Her To Heaven." That movie was the biggest money-maker of the year, around 1960. Her mother got furiously mad at my mother (during lunch) when Mom said that I did not intend to marry Carol.
(Typical article, one of very many about her: Time magazine, Oct. 21, 1966., page 61.)
My parents' friends knew lots of "eligible" single girls (intelligent and wealthy), who were suggested to me for blind dates. All were Jewish. Most of them were active in the arts (theater, advertising, publishing, etc.), because my parents friends knew I had knowledge (and connections) in that direction, and thus there might be mutual attractiveness. I did date most of those girls, honestly and open-mindedly looking for a wife, although they all turned out to be too extroverted to suit me.
Even though I was not by nature “extroverted” (unless I made myself act that way), there were some factors that operated in my favor. Evidently there was a scarcity of young men who had good jobs, and were fairly good looking, but were still “sensitive” and interested in the arts. (Most young men seemed to be lacking in either the first or the last of those.) I had a fairly good income (complete with a Jaguar sedan!), and had been in the Army and been to Europe, but I was also compatible with arty types and could “talk their talk,” any time. The girls’ parents were getting desperate for halfway-decent sons-in-law, and I believe the girls could see immediately that their parents would like me.
Joan Rivers (whose real last name was Molinsky) had been in “Second City Review” (along with Woody Allen and several other actors who later became famous), but she was unable to find another theatrical job at the time I took her out on a blind date (around 1962). She was not famous yet. I forget most of the places where I took her, but they worked out just great. One place was a party at Milton Avery’s apt., where Joan and March happily renewed acquaintance, not having seen each other since their friendship at Barnard in the 1950s.
After only a few dates, Joan wanted me to meet her parents. So at the end of an evening out, I took her home to her parents' (big!) house in Scarsdale, or someplace like that (maybe Mamaroneck). But it was very late, and the lights were out because her parents were asleep, so I just left her at the doorstep.
One thing I didn’t like about her (and Carol Bacher) was that any time she saw a male acquaintance (like in a crowd coming out of a theater), Carol and that guy would run up and kiss each other. And of course, there were many other such things that were just "not me."
I was somewhat worried that, if I ever married one of those hotshot women (like Carol Bacher, for instance), I would always be in the shadows while they were in the limelight, and it might get pretty depressing. It turned out that Joan married a lawyer, and after she got super-famous, he got so depressed that he committed suicide. She very publicly announced that she felt extremely guilty about not giving him more attention, and in fact she got depressed about it herself, and news media said she couldn't work for about a year, due to her guilt feelings.
-------------------------
* An ad exec that I met on a similar blind date. She was the daughter of William A. Bacher, producer of the Broadway play "Seventh Heaven," and the hit movie "Leave Her To Heaven." That movie was the biggest money-maker of the year, around 1960. Her mother got furiously mad at my mother (during lunch) when Mom said that I did not intend to marry Carol.
