Once I attended the video-taping of his TV Show, in Hollywood. For about fifteen minutes before the show, before the taping began, he was warming up the audience. I do not think it was scripted. He was talking to all of us, spontaneously.
He said: "I just got back from England. On the plane, coming home – because they knew I was a passenger, and they wanted to be nice to me – the airline played one of my pictures. It was wonderful! I had a captive audience!. . . . .Only three people jumped!"
He died at the age of a hundred. But in these classic "cracks" that he made over a long lifetime, you see pure humility, always. Even though he was poor in the beginning, and failed often, he never asked for sympathy, much less compassion or pity. And through his brilliant career, I never heard him tell an obscene story, or an off-color joke. He never needed it. He was a performer! These are the classics that Johnny Mercado liked especially:
On turning 70: "You still chase women, but only downhill."
On turning 80: "That’s the time of your life when even your birthday suit needs pressing."
On turning 90: "You know you’re getting old when the candles cost more than the cake."
On turning 100:"I don’t feel old. In fact I don’t feel anything until noon. Then it’s time for my nap."
On giving up his early career, boxing: "I ruined my hands in the ring.The referee kept stepping on them."
On sailors:"They spend the first six days of each week sowing their wild oats. Then they go to church on Sunday and pray for crop failure."
On never winning an Oscar: "Welcome to the Academy Awards! Or, as it’s called at my house. ‘Passover’ ".
On golf: "Golf is my profession. Show business is just to pay the green fees."
On Presidents: "I have performed for 12 presidents, and entertained only six."
On why he chose show business for his career:"When I was born, the doctor said to my mother: ‘Congratulations! You have an eight pound ham’."
On receiving the Congressional Gold Medal:"I feel very humble, but I think I have the strength of character to fight it."
On the early poverty of his family:"Four of us slept in the one bed. When it got cold, mother threw on another brother."
On his six brothers:"That’s how I learned to dance. Waiting for the bathroom."
On his early failures:"I would not have had anything to eat if it wasn’t for the stuff the audience threw at me."
On going to heaven:"I’ve done benefits for all religions. I’d hate to blow the hereafter on a technicality."
His theme song was: "Thanks for the memories." I remember him most for his friendship with Bing Crosby. They did a whole series of movies together, the "Road" series. Every one was excellent. And when they had movies alone, they always mentioned each other.
They showed their affection for each other by derogatory remarks. In one of his radio shows Bob Hope said to the M.C. : "There’s somebody out there in the waiting room, who wants to talk to you." The M.C. said: "Who is he?" Bob said: "Oh – he’s just a little fat man, who sells soap." And in walks Bing Crosby.
In one of his movies, Bing Crosby comes to a tiny country village. He asks the housekeeper: "When is the next movie?" The housekeeper says: "Oh. We only have movies on Tuesdays. That’s a week from now." Crosby says: "A whole week! That’s a long time to wait for a movie. What’s playing this Tuesday?" The housekeeper says: "I don’t know. Something with Bob Hope in it." Crosby stops still, thinks for a moment, and then says: "Ah, well. Okay. I’ll wait till a week from Tuesday."
Crosby was another star who was never obscene. He was a graduate of the Jesuit College in Spokane. He started poor, and hungry, but he rose to the top of his field by pure talent. When he died on a golf course in Spain, Bob Hope was so stricken that he could hardly talk. On TV he read the encomium from the teleprompter with absolutely no expression, no light in his eyes, like the Great Stone Face. He could talk spontaneously of others when they died – but not Crosby. They were too close. Both Bob Hope and Bing Crosby knew the meaning of friendship.
The Great Joe E. Brown, on of the world’s finest comedians, was giving a show for the soldiers, during World War II. They were about to go into battle. He was a smash! As he came to the end of his performance, and was about to say: "Goodbye", the young men did not want to let him go. One called out from the audience, loud and clear: "Come on, Joe! Tell us some dirty stories!"
Joe E. Brown stopped cold. He just looked at the men. Silence swept over them, like a wave. He came forward, to the footlights, and said: "My son was killed in this war. That’s why I’m here. If I told you dirty stories tonight, and you were killed tomorrow, how could I face your mother at home?" He took a deep breath and said: "Listen, men. In 40 years on the stage, I never had to tell a dirty story to get a laugh. And I’m not going to descend to that, now!"
Here in the Philippines we have performers like that: Pancho Magalona was that way, with his beautiful wife, Tita Duran. Robert Arevalo is that way, with his wife who was always a star — Barbara Perez. Manoling Francisco wrote all his songs for God, and they won national and international awards. Jeanne Young held the Philippine stage for years with songs that led the audience in prayer.
The really great performers, if you notice, are on the side of God.