Michael Mayer - Time Trippers The Nights of the Round Table

“Harpo!!!” Lauren cried out.

Lauren beamed at him with admiration.

“Hi there, cutie,” he said, sounding a lot like his brother Groucho.

Lauren’s eyes widened and she laughed: “You can’t talk!”

He laughed in surprise and Dorothy Parker said in her slow voice:

“He can talk, daaarling, but he doesn’t SAY anything..”

The whole table laughed, including Harpo, giving his silly grin.

Gershwin leaned over smiling and said, “What’s your name, sweetie?”

Lauren laughed “Lauren-Michelle…”

He beamed at her, “You know I think I should call you funny face?”

She laughed. “I don’t have a funny face!”

“You have a very pretty face, but you’re so cute, it’s funny, see?”

She laughed, not understanding.

“Say George,” said Kaufman.

“Yes George?” Gershwin replied.

“That’d make a good name for your new musical, y’ know.”

Gershwin nodded, “Not bad, George, not a bad idea at all,” he thought a moment, then winked at his fellow diners and said, as if with sudden inspiration, “How’d you like me to write a song about you, Lauren with the funny face?”

She smiled shyly, “I don’t know…”

“Well, that’s just what I’m going to do, call it Funny Face! Your name will be in lights, on Broadway, in manner of speaking, how about that?!” he said spreading his arms as if making a billboard, with a big smile.

She hid her face. Harpo bounced her on his knee, flashing his crazy smile, and clapped.

Dorothy, very cool, said:

“ Don’t say no, dear;

You know he wrote ‘Rhapsody in Blue?

Georgie, won’t you write a song about me?

I don’t care what you say;

So long as it isn’t true!”

They all laughed.

“George, you had better do it… she has a vicious bite you know…” said Woollcott with a satisfied grin.

“Oh…. I do NOT!” Dorothy said pretending to be offended. “And don’t look at me in that tone of voice!”

“Now, now Aleck, isn’t that a little harsh? Mrs. Paakah is our Little Nell….” said Benchley defending her in his broad Boston accent.

“Mr. Benchley … my gallant knight….” said Dorothy as she turned to him smiling.

“But also our Lady Macbeth,” Benchley continued.

They all broke up into laughter at her expense as she gave him a frown.

“Leaving a trail of broken hearts and punctured egos in her wake…” continued Woollcott.

“My beauty and brains Burn like beautiful flames;

If my men get burned, ‘Tisn’t I who’s to blame.”

Dorothy said as she flashed Woollcott a triumphant smile, taking a drag on her cigarette, making it glow an angry red.

“Touché!” said Benchley with a broad grin at Woollcott.

The others chuckled at Woollcott’s expense.

He just sighed and shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

I knew that Gershwin was working on a new musical that would open at the Alvin Theater in November, called ‘Funny Face’ so I wondered if he was just kidding or she really WAS the inspiration for the musical’s name?

I apologized again and told Lauren, “Come on, we’ve bothered these good people enough…”

Dorothy replied: “They belong to you then?”

“Grandkids, uh…Mrs. Parker… ?” I said, unsure how to address this famous poetess.

“They are indeed,” she said. “Mrs. Parker? My so formal…Mr. Parker and I are separated, darling,” she smiled at me. “Just call me Dottie.”

“Th… thank you, uh, Dottie,” I stammered out.

“Won’t you join us, Mister, uh…?” asked the always friendly Heywood Broun.

“Mayer… Mike Mayer. Nothing I’d like more but I promised the kids a ride on a 5th Avenue bus later, and you know how kids are about promises… ”

“Couldn’t say,” said Dottie with a smile. “You’re staying here at the ‘Gonk?” she asked taking a long pull on her cigarette.

“Yes, we’ll be here until next Saturday.”

“Perhaps we’ll see each other again?” she said with a smile.

“I would be honored,” I replied.

I thanked them, excused us and we sat and finished our lunch, the Round Table’s traditional $1.75 ‘Blue Plate Special’ of broiled Spring Chicken and, of course, free light, fluffy popovers and butter. I felt as if I had just visited Heaven, that I was able to talk with these legendary artists, and I could not concentrate on my food. Lauren certainly made a big hit. The Round Table group waved goodbye as we left and headed for Fifth Avenue.

The weather was very cool, the high 60’s, as we stepped outside and walked to 5th Avenue, crossed to the northbound side and waited for one of the famous open-topped double-decker buses, just now making its way towards us.

We boarded and I paid our nickel fares and climbed to the open top.

“This is funnnnnn!” Jonathan said.

“Yeah!” Lauren laughed as we took our seats near the front, cool wind in our faces, heading up 5th Avenue. Of course it looked much different now, none of the modern steel and glass skyscrapers of our time. We passed stores, the old Vanderbilt mansion, and some old friends as well - Tiffany’s, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Plaza Hotel on the left, on the right the new Sherry Netherlands Hotel was almost complete, beautiful Central Park, the kids enjoying the ride.

We went as far as Harlem, 125th street, then caught another bus back. I explained that Harlem, the heart of the Afro-American community, was an important center of modern jazz music, called the ‘Harlem Renaissance.’ The people were well-dressed with an air of prosperity. This was long before the great migration of poor Afro-Americans from the South during World War II. Harlem, even through the 1940’s was a big attraction for its lively night life open to all races. Maybe the top Jazz and Blues performers ‘Satchmo’ Louis Armstrong and Bessie Smith might be there now?

I explained that Afro-Americans, in those days they called them Negroes or Colored, had a hard time in the White-dominated world, but it was gradually getting better. Still, many people were openly prejudiced, even in the North, where segregation was not law like in the South. Because communities were very close in those days, like villages, people were often suspicious of outsiders, people who were ‘different.’

Each community, White, Black, Asian generally kept to themselves, and it wasn’t a very tolerant world. This was true not only of race, but also ethnic groups. Usually immigrants, especially the Italians, Irish and Jews, all had their own neighborhoods and customs, even criminal gangs.

We rode all the way to Greenwich Village’s Washington Square and the big Roman-inspired arch in the park. The Village was still the Village, funky as always, with young people dressed in black, thick glasses, odd costumes, painters and chess players in the park, colorful ‘theme’ restaurants, not very different from our time. The Purple Pig was one I remembered seeing.

We went back to the hotel exhausted, the kids sleepy. We took a light dinner in our room and a much-needed bath. I knew the Round Table crowd would be upstairs playing poker all night, maybe all weekend. They dubbed their little group ‘The Thanatopsis, Pleasure and Inside Straight Club.’ How I would have loved to just be there to listen to them.