The Show Must Go On
Wednesday, January 28th, 2009It’s been a while since I have posted anything on the blog or written my newsletter. Over the last year my life has changed drastically and it has put my sense of humor to the test. For many years I have preached and lived the importance of humor in life and how to use laugher to cope with the most challenging times. My family and I used humor to cope with business deals that went wrong, divorce, the loss of loved ones, and serious illnesses. During those tough times humor never failed to get us through.
Humor and laughter have always been a part of my family’s life both professionally and personally. Professionally my parents were considered to be one of the funniest acts of all time by the great comedians of their time. In fact some comedians and other entertainers were afraid to have Mom and Dad on the same show because, even though they may be the headliners, they couldn’t follow my parents. Mom and Dad got belly laughs the entire time they were on stage. The truly great comedians wanted them on the show because they knew my parents would get the audience in the mood for laughter. Some of those great comedians who wanted Mom and Dad on the same bill were Bob Hope, Jack Benny, Red Skelton, Rowan and Martin, Danny Thomas, and the list goes on and on. But it wasn’t only the comedians that enjoyed my parents. Some of the great entertainers of their time also loved working with my parents: Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Jimmy Durante, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, Gordon McRae, Edward Arnold, Roy Clark, and Danny Kay, to name a few. These stars and the agents that booked them on the shows enjoyed my parents on and off stage. They were funny on stage and really two of the nicest people in show business. So laughter has been a part of my life from the very beginning.
During the holidays if there was an act playing in Vegas, they usually ended up at our house for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Mom and Dad opened up our home for entertainers who were away from their home and family. One of my fondest memories was the Christmas Eve when we had the entire cast of Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In over along with several other acts that were in town. Even as a little kid of about seven I could still appreciate the humor, even if I didn’t get all of the jokes. Everyone was laughing and having a great time. The only negative from that night was a short stocky comedian who crashed the party (when I say crashed that just means someone who wasn’t expected, everyone was welcome) was taken home by Rowan and Martin because he got a little drunk and obnoxious. I didn’t know what those words meant. He was my hero because I had just seen him in the movies with a Volkswagen bug that came to life. I loved that movie.
So laughter is and always will be an integral part of my life. I really started to appreciate the importance of humor and laughter, and what started me to speak to audiences about the importance of laughter, was when Dori was diagnosed with diabetic kidney disease and how we coped with her needing a kidney/pancreas transplant. These were tough times for both of us. For Dori it was the overall feeling of lack of energy, periods of nausea, extreme pain from broken bones and the fear of not living long enough to get a transplant. For me it was the stress of seeing someone I loved have to go through all that. I am convinced that humor and laughter eased both our pain and fear of the ordeal.
In 2006 my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer and while this was a very tough time for both of us we really did practice what we preached. From the day that she was diagnosed with cancer to being wheeled into the operating room and throughout her recovery, we used humor as part of her treatment/therapy.
Last year mom’s cancer came back and even though we didn’t know it at first we knew something was wrong. She wasn’t quite herself. It started with heartburn. Then she didn’t have the appetite that she normally had. Wine didn’t taste good to her. That’s when I knew something was really wrong. One of our favorite things to do was go wine tasting with our cousins in California. Then she started getting mild headaches that lasted a few days. I took her to the doctor and they did a few tests and couldn’t find anything and anyway I had some of those symptoms myself because allergies last year in Las Vegas were the worst they had been in years. Everybody was suffering from those symptoms. So the doctors treated her for allergies. Even though the symptoms improved a little they didn’t go away. Then she lost all feeling her left hand. She would drop a fork or something she was holding. So we took her back to the surgeon that performed the lobectomy (mom once told me to make sure I spelled it correctly. She didn’t want people to think she had a lobotomy). He looked at the x-rays and suggested operating on the other lung that had a tumor on it. It had been there for years and he wasn’t going to do anything about it until now. But as he ran tests he was convinced that wasn’t causing the numbness in her hand. So they did cat scans on her brain and other tests and they really couldn’t find anything but they knew there was something wrong.
Meanwhile she really started going downhill. Within a 5 to 6 week period she went from getting all dressed up and walking around the corner to her friend’s house for a party, to the next week being helped a little going to a show with her good friends, to me having to hold her up when we went to Supper Summer Theatre. I took her back to the doctor because now she could barely walk to the bathroom without my help. The doctor said they were still running tests to determine what was causing this.
Mom was determined to go to a party that her 93 year old friend was having for one of their other friends. I asked the doctor if it would be ok for her to go. The doctor told me to let her do whatever she wants and can do. I have to admit I was a little cautious about her going, but now I am so glad she made it to the party. Her friends were going to pick her up and take her to the party. I called them and said I would bring her. By now she was so weak that she couldn’t walk. I put her in a wheel chair and took her there. It was at the Italian American Club. I thought they were just getting together to have dinner. I didn’t realize they were going to see (insert name) her favorite pianist. I told her friendI would be back at 8pm to pick Mom up and if she needed me to give me a call and I would come sooner. When I wheeled Mom in they couldn’t believe how fast Mom had gone downhill. They only saw her about two or three weeks before and she was normal. Now she couldn’t walk, couldn’t eat, and even though she was still pretty sharp she couldn’t speak as well. One of her friends had to get up and use the excuse she needed a cigarette because she was saddened by Mom’s drastic downturn. I returned at 8:00 expecting Mom would be tired and ready to go. No not Mom. She was having the time of her life. She wasn’t ready to go. She was waving her hands, clapping, laughing, and joking around. She wasn’t going until the piano player finished and everyone was leaving. I was sitting next to her when she leaned over and said, “I have to get out of this wheelchair.” So I took the chair and put it in the corner. She wanted to stretch her legs so I helped her up and an elderly gentleman who she knew came over and we went on the dance floor. And just like Mom she started to move her legs a little. She started to dance. And we started to dance. We were holding her up but we danced. I couldn’t help but smile while on the inside I had to fight back the tears because I knew this was going to be the last time I got to dance with my mother. Even though she was weak she was still the life of the party. I put her back in her wheel chair and we went home. One might find that to be a sad story but I find it to be typical of Mom. Laughing and singing the night away with her friends. I can’t imagine a better way to make your last public appearance, unless it’s on stage.
Just a day or two later Mom went into the hospital. She stopped eating and it became too much for me to take care of her on my own. She needed professional care.
Right up until the end Mom maintained her sense of humor. She joked in the hospital while she could still talk. The last few days in the hospice, even though she could no longer speak, she would still laugh, right up until she lost consciousness.
We didn’t have a funeral for Mom. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want anybody crying at her casket. No not Mom. She wanted a party with good food, fine wine, and above all laughter. So that’s what we gave her. Someone suggested I rent out a hall and have it catered. No, the only place to have a party for Mom was at her house. For years the place to party was at Tulara’s. About a hundred people showed up to celebrate the life and talent of one of the funniest ladies in show business. I think those that made it would say she still had one of the best parties in Vegas.
We didn’t have a funeral for Mom. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want anybody crying at her casket. No not Mom. She wanted a party with good food, fine wine, and above all laughter. So that’s what we gave her. Someone suggested I rent out a hall and have it catered. No, the only place to have a party for Mom was at her house. For years the place to party was at Tulara’s. About a hundred people showed up to celebrate the life and talent of one of the funniest ladies in show business. I think those that made it would say she still had one of the best parties in Vegas.
In November of 2007 I was asked to speak at a conference in San Louis Obispo. At first I wasn’t going to do it but I hadn’t had very many speeches lately where I could use Moms comedic talent on stage with me. So I took it because she loves entertaining and even at the age of 85 she was still funnier than many of younger comedians. After she passed my heart wasn’t in having to go and give that presentation. After all, I took it for her. But I realized that’s not what Mom would want. After all, the show must go on. The speech was called “That’s Showbiz”. I played the tape of Mom and Dad on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was happy I did even though I had to fight back the tears at times. The laughs they got were as if they were performing live. One of my closest friends remarked that the tape was almost 60 years old and yet as funny today as it was then. Even after she was gone she still didn’t miss a show. That’s showbiz.
Over the last few months I have been struggling with the loss of Mom and yes I have used humor to cope with her loss. Thank God I have been able to find humor or I don’t know what I would have done. But I have to admit there have been times when I struggled to find humor and started to become depressed. I behaved in a manner that isn’t characteristic of me. I found my life to be a little crazy and out of control. My only hope is that I didn’t hurt anyone during that time. I’m not going to go into detail but I will say one thing. I’m glad I live in Vegas because “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Of course my idea of out of control is tame compared to others. I didn’t do anything illegal, just out of character for me.
The thing that pulled me out of those pity parties were my friends and the humor and laughter that they provided.
What I learned from this experience is that I have used humor to help myself and others through their most challenging times. Helping people and making them laugh has always been my mission in life. I think those that know me would say that is a fairly truthful assessment of me. Using humor and laughter to help ease a loved one’s pain has helped ease my pain. Now for the first time the pain was all mine. And now I wasn’t helping someone else cope, I was having to cope with my pain. In a way it’s like a comedian performing without an audience. I’ve performed in comedy clubs when there were only a handful of people in a large room. No matter how funny you are you can’t make empty seats laugh. Those in need were my audience. Finding humor to ease my pain has been a challenge. I have learned that is what friends are for. I had to become the patient, the one in need of humor. So I thank those of you who have provided me with the best medicine and resuscitated me through this long recovery with the most precious gift you could give me, the gift of laughter. Right now every day is a struggle and it will continue to be for awhile. That’s just life’s process. But I know with such good friends and their humor I will get through this and continue to make others laugh and myself. After all “The Show Must Go On.” Thank you.