Titles, Inc.

The King’s English

The British accent?  I’m a sucker for it.  The French accent – not so much.  So when I approached my customer who had a book in hand while he continued to look at the shelves, and asked, “Are you doin’ OK?  Need any help?” in my Brooklyn voice and he responded cheerfully in his British accent, I had to hold on tight so as not to swoon.

He had in hand an attractive copy of “Mutiny on the Bounty,” and he said, “I have never read the book although I’ve seen every version of the movie.”  I don’t remember whether I’ve read the book either, but the movies, sure.  He said, “Nothing could match the original.  Nobody could be Captain Bligh except Charles Loetahn.”  I thought hard.  I remember Bligh as played by Charles Lawtn, but I didn’t want to correct him, he seemed so positive.  Of course I made a mental adjustment sentences later and was able to engage with him in this discussion.  “Absolutely.  Laughton.  And what about Clark Gable?”  We both agreed that he was irreplaceable.  We reminisced about the old movies and their elegant actors.  

A thought occurred to me.  I asked, “Are you an actor?”  “Yes,” he admitted.  “I will be in 'The Mousetrap' shortly after I get back to London.”  I showed off, “The play with the longest run of any play ever!  By Agatha Christie.”  

He has been on radio, and in theater a long time.  He plays character roles rather than leads.  He then acted out the lead player strutting on stage, “all night,” and then “I come on stage, a new face, you can feel the energy renewed in the audience, and I have them in my pocket,” and he scoops out there and puts the fist in his pocket.  It is momentary, and thrilling.  In and out of character in a second.    

He will also be in “The Crucible” by Arthur Miller.  “With a British accent?”  I ask, dubiously.  He said, “Why not?  It was in Salem, Massachusetts, settled by the British.  I will use a regional accent,” and he spoke a few words using a harder “r”.

He says he plays Groucho Marx in the play Marx wrote for himself.  “Go-wan!” I say, “How can you do Groucho?”  He gives me a Groucho line.  Yep, he’s Groucho.  He said, “That’s for radio, but we have an audience so I wear a moustache.  It makes them more comfortable.  Without the moustache they are a bit bewildered until I get into it, so the moustache sets them up immediately.” 

He chooses a second book signed by Beatrice Lillie for a friend who performs a one-act Bea Lillie play.  “She will love it,” he says. 

I ask his name, and it is Michael Roberts.  I introduce him to Simone, who tells him her daughter-in-law’s father was an English actor and had been in a children’s TV series and also TV dramas.  “What’s his name?” asks Michael.   When she says, “Joe Baker,” Michael gets so excited.  “Short, fat man?  In 'Crackerjack'?  I watched him all the time when I was a little kid!  Your family?”    

By the time Michael left we were all family, and he promised to stop by again the next time he’s back in Chicago.  I’m sure if we ask nicely, he’ll act out some “Mousetrap” for us. 

----Florence

A Driver Driven

I gave her a year to disappear.  It didn’t happen.  I went to the facility to take my driver’s test, and who was assigned to me?  Hilda, the terror from last year, that’s who.

Before we even got into the car, I was fraught with anxiety.  She repeated her litany, “No talking while driving.  It will distract both of us.”  When I started backing out of the parking slot, I made an exaggerated effort at looking into all the mirrors.  “Stop!” she screams.  I hit the brakes.  She told me, “You must Not use the mirrors in backing up. Look out of the windows.  Turn around and look out the windows. Do you think you would see a child in the mirrors?”  So I tried again, and I tell you, in a heavy winter jacket with a bulky scarf, it was damn hard to turn my neck, but you bet I did.

Remember Hilda, the one who wants to see the turn signals even when you slide into the angled slot in the parking lot?  And you are the only car in this designated Test Lot? 

I drove so cautiously she hollered at me, “You are doing 25 in a 30 zone.  Pick it up!”I hugged the curb turning corners.  I twisted looking left and right before entering an intersection.  I was the sharpest, cleanest, most virtuous driver on the road.  I even knew the answer to: “Without moving your hands which way do you turn the wheel when parking up hill?”  Left.

So when we returned, although I was as limp as the proverbial dish rag, I felt triumphant.  For the moment - until Hilda said, “I don’t know whether to pass you.  You don’t look behind your back.  You don’t follow the speed signals. You didn’t signal when you merged.”  I’m thinking, “Merge?  What merge?  Oh, when the two lanes shrank to one?”  She continued, “When you drive on the expressway don’t you signal when you merge?”  Lying, I answered, “Oh sure, yes,” even though I am thinking, “Signal?  Where does the car behind me think I am going?  Where does the car on the expressway that won’t let me in think I am going?”  I couldn’t restrain a snicker.  She hollers, “It’s not funny!  Why are you laughing?”  I tell her honestly, “It is an anxiety laugh, no, it is not funny.”  She adds up all these numbers she has been recording on the clipboard, and says, “You barely pass.”

We get to the door of the building, and as I pull the door open so that Rotten Hilda can walk through, the big man on the other side walks out and says, “Thank you,” very pleasantly.  I nod and smile.  Hilda walks through, fuming.  “Who does he think he is.  He thinks we held the door open for him?  What nerve!” 

I go to have my picture taken and am surprised that I look so nice.  I thought the photo would reflect a trembling cowed whimpering person attempting a smile. 

To reinforce this tale of madness, I print the following emails from friend Judy who had told me she was going for her test, too.  I warned her about Hilda, telling her about my last year’s experience with this dreadful woman. 

Email from Judy #1)

And there she was, like Madelaine Kahn in Young Frankenstein. But not funny. Thank you Florence for telling me about the turn signal. I used it every breathe I took. But where she got me was that I didn't check my blind spot each time I used the signal. I relied on my rearview mirrors too much. And the vision test. Cute guy, but no teeth. I got confused because I thought it was one eye at a time, but it was two together. I think he thought I was demented. However, I passed. I hope.   J 

Email from Judy #2), responding to my reply to her.

We were there at the same time. I got there at 1:25 and left at 3:15.You must have been driving with horrible Heil Hilda when I was trying to memorize the eye chart on my iPhone. When I left I drove out from the wrong lane of the parking lot and almost crashed. I was undone by the whole thing.   J

Now I am reminded that there was a police car and a fire truck at the facility when I arrived.  When I asked at the counter, he laughed and said “a driver had an accident when he got back.” Another driver driven to distraction by Horrible Hilda?

----Florence

Smoke and Mirrors

When he asked whether I had any magic books I climbed the ladder and took down four items from the top shelf, my entire magic collection.  One pamphlet had my note on it saying This is a magic trick.  “Oh, I remember,” I told him, “a magician showed me how to use it.”  I looked at a penciled radiating sun which was a clue I had made to remind myself how it works.  “Do you know this one?”  He didn’t.  I looked at it carefully and could not remember its trickery, even after puzzling over the subtle clue I tucked in.  He didn’t want any of the books, and we chatted about magic for a while.  I said the only magician I knew personally was, “…ooh, I can’t think of his name, he was Chicago’s best known, I loved him, everybody loved him…”  He said, “Jay Marshall.”  Yes.

I remember taking one of my sons to Jay Marshall’s store to buy some magic tricks.  Harmon was performing at children’s parties.  I think he was about 12 at the time, carrying his big black suitcase with his painted-on name, Harmon’s Magic.  He spent some time looking at everything in the store and chose nothing.  Nothing?  He explained to me after we were outside, “I can make every one of those tricks.  We don’t have to buy any of it.”

My customer-magician was so amiable, I asked for his card.  “Maybe someone will ask me to recommend a magician.  It hasn’t happened yet, but you never know.”  He took a card case out of his pocket, and when he opened it, a flame burst out.  A real fire.  “Oops” says he, and snaps it shut.  He opened it carefully again and there was a charred dollar bill.  He pulled out his card and handed it to me, and slipped the case back into his pocket.  “Ouch!” he said, slapping his pocket, “it’s still hot!”  Cute little show.

His card also said Hypnosis.  I asked whether it was party game hypnosis or the real stuff, like cutting out smoking, for instance.  He said it was for fun.  I told him he should be doing hypnosis seriously.  He said he would have to be licensed to use it for medical purposes.  “So get licensed,” I insisted.  I told him that I had my last baby delivered under hypnosis.  A few of us volunteered to meet with the obstetrician several times while he went through the hypnosis process.  He told us that we would be very comfortable when we went into “labor” and he demonstrated how he would press our shoulder when he visited us at the hospital to reinforce the suggestion that we would not feel serious labor pains.  It worked. (Hi, Steven!)

I was so impressed by that experience that I later hypnotized a young friend who was helpless at losing weight.  After getting her signature releasing me from any harm I might do her (yikes!) we had several sessions and she started going to a gym.  Ultimately she lost a lot of weight.  She wore tight tee shirts and shorts, she was that thrilled with her new self.  She moved away, and when I met her again years later, she was back into her old body.  Apparently my hypnosis was effective only if reinforced.  Yes, I’m a believer.

Hmmm.  Now if I can figure out how to hypnotize people into buying books….

----Florence