Michael Mayer - Time Trippers The Nights of the Round Table

The maître d’ asked, “Hey, what’s the deal, bringing kids in here and the Chinaman?”

“He’s a Japanese officer on a goodwill tour,” I explained. “Anyway, FPA invited us.”

Skeptically he led us inside over to the Babe’s table where Ruth was holding court like a knight of old with a very pretty girl on his arm. There was Dottie, with Robert Benchley, Harpo, of course FPA and a sour-looking guy that turned out to be Ring Lardner, THE most famous sportswriter in the country and intimate member of the Round Table.

“Look what the cat dragged in! Well, welcome back to our little family!” Dottie said warmly, making me feel like Norm in ‘Cheers!’ as she waved to us to come over and sit down.

Lauren jumped for joy…

“Harpo!!” she shouted.

Harpo widened his eyes at her with that crazy cross-eyed smile and beckoned for her to sit beside him which she did, smiling all shy. Amazingly, they were all drinking coffee, and the Babe had a big glass of milk in front of him.

“I’m in training, Huggins (the Yankee’s manager) ‘ll kill me if I fall off the wagon with a big game tomorrow!”

“You kids have fun or did your ‘Lito’ drag you all over the city?” Dottie asked.

Jonathan said I did drag them all over but he enjoyed the game today.

Ruth beamed at both kids: “Howdy kids!” he said.

“We can’t stay, it’s late, just wanted to take this opportunity to meet you. It’s truly an honor!” I said, meaning it, as I shook his big, rough hand.

The Babe, being a kid at heart, offered to shake the kid’s hands and said that if they had baseballs with them he’d autograph them. They looked downcast. I explained we didn’t expect to meet him ever, so we didn’t have any.

“Come and see me tomorrow after the game. Just bring some baseballs and I’ll sign ‘em,” he scribbled a note to us. “This’ll getcha into the locker room. How about that?”

The kids smiled and thanked him, and so did I. Imagine!

“So, we’ve gone international?” Benchley observed looking at the stiff, serious Tora-san, “Who is your solemn friend?”

“Let me introduce Tora-san, officer of the Imperial Japanese Navy on a goodwill tour…” I explained as Tora-san unbent with a slight bow to the table.

“Ah, yes, the big to-do on the Hudson this morning,” Benchley said. “Have a seat,” he pulled out a chair next to him. Tora-san bowed and smiled as he sat down, looking somewhat out of place.

“Milk or coffee?” he offered Tora-san. “Say….I have a great recipe for Chop Suey…” Benchley started to tell him putting his arm around his shoulders with mock seriousness. Tora-san looked puzzled….then started to laugh.

Ruth’s girl gave Tora-san an approving glance and a big smile.

“Handsome, ain’t he?” she observed.

“Hey!” Ruth admonished her with a frown.

Ring smiled and whispered to Benchley: “She gave him a look you could have poured on a waffle.”

Dottie smiled and observed, “I like MY men rich, handsome and stupid.” At this Benchley whispered in her ear looking at Babe Ruth. She laughed out loud, “Not THAT stupid.” Which thankfully went right over Ruth’s head as he was talking nonstop with Ring and FPA.

Ruth started to talk to Ring about the game, and everybody bent over to listen. “So, Babe, everyone expects you to break your record of 59 homers tomorrow or on Saturday, what ‘dya say?” Ring asked him.

“Ring, I don’t know for sure but it looks good,” The Babe said with confidence. “All I know is we are a shoe-in for the pennant against the Senators and the series against Pittsburgh.”

“Uh…..has anybody seen ‘Abie’s Irish Rose?’ Is it any good?” I asked the crowd mischievously about the predictable, wildly popular comedy about the Jewish husband and his Irish bride and the mishaps between their two families, which had become a national joke, having played for so many years on Broadway. It was a sort of early version of ‘My Big Fat Greek Wedding.’ I got a forest of grimaces and ugly looks.

“Not THAT old thing!” Dottie said with disgust.

“Why, it’s the oldest play on Broadway, since 1920 or so and you haven’t seen it? Well you’re not missing much… a triumph of bad taste and mediocrity!” Benchley said.

“Well, we’re from Minnesota…” I answered innocently.

“So is F. Scott - it’s no excuse for bad taste!” Dottie admonished me.

Ruth looked puzzled. “I don’t get it? I liked it just fine…saw it a few years ago.”

“See what I mean?” Dottie said grinning.

Harpo chimed in. “Now now, let’s not be so smug…remember our little Broadway comedy back in ’22, ‘Yessiree?’ Lasted one night. Who do we think we are?”

“Well, Harpo, what’s your assessment?” I asked hoping for his famous response. I was not disappointed.

“Well… as I’ve said before, it was no worse than a bad cold.”

It was getting late, and since we had actually met Babe Ruth in person, it was time to go.

“Thanks, everybody, but we gotta get to bed, right kids?” I said.

They both nodded reluctantly.

Harpo made a sad face.

“Bye, Harpo…” Lauren said sadly.

“S’ long, Lauren,” he replied. “See ya, Jonathan!”

Jonathan smiled back. “I’ll see you in the movies,” he said.

Harpo looked puzzled; he had only appeared briefly in one movie so far.

“Good thing movies are silent,” FPA said sourly, “or you’d drive everybody crazy with your endless chatter.” He grinned, knowing Harpo pretended he couldn’t talk in his act. Harpo gave him his silliest grin.

I thanked everyone for the warm welcome and shook the Babe’s hand. He said it was nice meeting us. There were some other parties he had to go to to celebrate and the night was still young, he told us.

“You’re gonna do OK tomorrow,” I said, “And we’ll be there to see you.”

The kids nodded enthusiastically. Tora-san bowed and also shook Ruth’s hand.

“Bye! Say, we gotta get going soon too,” Ruth said as we walked out the door. I suddenly missed the Round Table crowd as we walked out into the night, the crowd outside gone by now.

We started walking toward 6th Avenue back to our hotel in the shadows on quiet 49th street, then stood on the corner trying to decide the best way for Tora-san to go to Times Square. Ruth and the girl, arm and arm, were walking lightly up to the street, turning towards 6th Avenue as well when a black car pulled up suddenly stopping by Ruth and the girl. We were about to turn the corner when Lauren looked back and earnestly tugged on my arm, whispering loudly,

“Look! Somebody is trying to fight with Mr. Ruth!” Both me and Tora-san turned and looked back.

Angry words were being exchanged, but we couldn’t make them out. Ruth looked angry and, as hands reached out to grab him, the girl screamed and dropped her purse. He struggled, trying to pull away as they opened the door and tried to drag him inside. The girl got angry and began to tug Ruth away from the car, yelling something. Tora-san didn’t hesitate, and started running towards the struggle. Jonathan jerked his hand out of mine and dashed after him as I shouted at him to stop, and started to chase him, Lauren in tow.