A compilation of people that Max Millard interviewed for a small New York Upper West Side magazine in the 1970s.
A compilation of people that Max Millard interviewed for a small New York Upper West Side magazine in the 1970s.
He was 43 years old when the big break came. Jack Roy, a paint salesman from Queens who did comedy in his spare time, stood before the cameras of the Ed Sullivan Show and delivered a routine that soon had the audience helpless with laughter. Whether they realized they were witnessing the birth of one of comedy's brightest stars is uncertain. But for Jack Roy - better known as Rodney Dangerfield - the long wait was over.
His unique brand of humor caught on immediately. Within a year he was able to quit the paint business - "it was a colorless job" - and give his full time to comedy. After 10 appearances with Sullivan he went on The Tonight Show, and established such a smooth rapport with Johnny Carson that he has so far been invited back about 60 times. With Carson acting as "straight man," Dangerfield tosses off a string of outrageous anecdotes that are in keeping with his image as a man who seems to have the whole world against him.
The afternoon I meet Rodney Dangerfield at his spacious modern East Side apartment is like a day straight out of his monologue. Coming to the door dressed in a polka dot robe and looking quite exhausted, he apologizes by saying that he has been up since 8 in the morning - early for someone who is accustomed to working past 4 a.m. As we sit down to talk, he answers most of my questions with an unexpected seriousness. Still, the humor creeps in around the edges.
"I have an image to feed. Most comedians don't," he says with a yawn, sprawled out on the sofa like a bear prematurely woken from hibernation. "If I see something or read something that starts me thinking, I try to turn it around, and ask myself: How can it go wrong for me now? What can happen here? For example, you're watching something on television. You see Lindbergh on the screen. Your mind is on that TV. ... You get no respect at all. You see the paper flying all over the place. You say, I get no respect at all. I got arrested for littering at a ticker tape parade.
"Rickles has an image. Steve Martin has an image. But most don't. A lot of comedians buy their material. Others take someone else's material and steal it. We don't go into that, though."
Being a professional funny man, says Rodney, "is a completely total sacrifice. It's like dope: you have to do it. ... The curse is to be a perfectionist."
He writes at least 90 percent of his act. Whenever an original joke flashes into his mind, he drops whatever he's doing and jots it down. ("I get no respect. On my wedding night I got arrested for having a girl in my room.") Before a new gag can be thought worthy of The Tonight Show, it must be tested and retested before a live audience. This is no problem, for Rodney is constantly in demand all over the North American continent, not only as a nightclub performer but also as a lecturer at colleges. Last June he was invited to give the commencement address at Harvard. "It's a strange thing," he remarks. "Kids are into me."
One probable reason for his appeal with the young is that Rodney has two children of his own, an 18-year-old son in college and a 14-year-old daughter who lives at home. It was mainly to lighten his travel schedule and enable him to spend more time with his children that Rodney opened his own nightclub nine years ago. Known simply as Dangerfield's, it is located on First Avenue between 61st and 62nd Streets. Dangerfield's is especially popular with out-of-town visitors. Among the celebrities who have been spotted there: Bob Hope, Johnny Carson, Joe Namath, Telly Savalas and Led Zeppelin. The entertainment usually consists of both music and comedy - Jackie Mason, singers Gene Barry and Carmen MacRae, and America's foremost political impressionist, David Frye.
But the biggest attraction, of course, is Rodney himself. He will be playing the club from January 5 until February 4, seven nights a week. There is an $8 cover charge and a $7 minimum on food and/or drink.
Rodney has lived on the East Side since 1969. Born as Jacob Cohen 57 years ago in Babylon, Long Island, he spent most of his boyhood and his early career in Queens. After graduating from Richmond Hill High School, he changed his legal name to Jack Roy "because my father used 'Roy' in vaudeville." For years he worked small nightclubs for little or no pay. Then at 28 he married. "My wife was a singer. So we decided to both quit show business and lead a normal life. That doesn't always work out."
The first "no respect" joke he ever wrote, says Rodney, was: "I played hide and seek. They wouldn't even look for me." The same basic gag has since reappeared in a thousand variations. ("My twin brother forgot my birthday.")
Rodney now earns a substantial part of his income by making
commercials, the best known of which are for Mobil and Miller Lite beer.
He has cut two comedy albums and written a pair of books, I Don't Get
No Respect and I Couldn't Stand My Wife's Cooking So I Opened a
Restaurant.
For the moment, Rodney has no plans for other books or albums.
"Perhaps I'm not ambitious enough to pursue different things the way I
should," he confesses."I'd rather spend my free time at the health club.
The idea in life is not to see how much money you can die with."
Copyright 2004 The Associated Pr ess.
WESTSIDER JAN DE RUTH
Partner of nudes and Time covers
Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town's richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. "Way to go, honey!"
I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.
**Mature Content!** "I'm so sorry, Mr. Lawson, you can marry my daughter Marga but Sabrina is an exception." "Why? She's your daughter I thought you and my parents had already arranged this marriage. And I choose Sabrina. I won't marry anyone but Sabrina." "Then why Sabrina?" "Let's say that Sabrina and I have a special thing back then," Gabriel said with a little smile. Ferdinand frowned and was curious. "Well, she might deny it." Sabrina Mondragon Alvarez – is a mute rich woman. She's an introvert and hated getting along with rich people who always talk about senseless stuff. She was bullied by socialite but never they knew that behind that innocent-looking woman hides a strong and powerful aura. Being quiet doesn't mean weak but is something more dangerous than anything. Silence would lead all of her enemies to one place that can also be called danger. Soon, she'll have them in the place that she's secretly reserving for those who made her life and family miserable. She said to be someone who can't speak not until he came and chose her to be his wife. Gabriel Lawson - a rich powerful tycoon with a strong background. He fell in love with the woman he had a one night stand with and chose her to be his wife. He would do anything for her. And for those people who hurt her--they must pay a thousand folds.
Three years ago, Scarlett traded her act of saving Asher's life for a marriage. Throughout their marriage, she gave up her own needs to care for him, losing herself in the process. Her devotion never earned her true affection-he saw her as nothing more than a gold-digger, his heart fixed on someone else. When the woman he loved returned, Scarlett quietly chose to step aside, ready to reclaim her own life. But after the divorce, the cold, controlling man she once loved couldn't let her go. He cornered her, his voice low and fierce. "You can only be mine!"
Her marriage wasn't perfect. Infact, it wasn't anywhere close to being perfect. But she always had hope and tried to make things work. She had expected it to last forever, no matter how bad it was. But her hope came shattering down when he dropped the divorce papers on the table right in front of her. "Sign them." He had said coldly. That was five years ago. Now Alexandra was back, as the CEO of the fast rising clothing and apparels company, Velvet Vixen. This time, she came for revenge on the man who had broken her heart into several unmendable pieces. But she wasn't alone anymore. "Mommy, we saw a man who Jace looks like." She was back with two tiny accomplices in tow. Liam wanted to be the father of his kids and change back to the old times. Would he be able to accomplish his mission of making Alexandra fall in love with him again? Would Alexandra give in to this man who had once broken her heart and all the promises he made to her before? Would Jace and Jade accept their unknown father back?
"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years-three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined-he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken-to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end-almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me-only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!
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