If you were watching the Ed Sullivan show a few Sundays ago, when Wayne & Shuster took it over for the night, it's quite possible that you might have seen our Miss Barbara Moon in the audience. The reason for her presence was professional, as anyone who turns to page 14 will understand. Armed with notebook and pencil, Miss Moon ventured into darkest II CBS and, by all accounts, didn't emerge for a week. Her instructions were to stick to Wayne & Shuster like glue and that, more or less, is what she did.
The results of that venture are printed elsewhere in this issue, but Miss Moon has provided this column with some exclusive material which we are happy to pass along to our readers.
ITEM: Edie Adams has four-
teen pairs of contact lenses: without them she can't even see Ernie Kovacs.
ITEM: All the female stars on the Sullivan show attended rehearsals wearing sack dresses, but none appeared in a sack dress on the actual show (except Miss Moon who, contrary to editorial instructions, always wears a sack).
ITEM: The favorite drink
among show - business people is neither cola nor gin but something called Cel-Ray which is simply carbonated celery juice.
ITEM: Small messenger boys
are sent out by the cast, not for coffee, but for cardboard cartons of matzo-ball soup which, next to Cel-Ray, is the choice pick-me-up.
ITEM: All the men in New
York TV call each other “baby" || or “sweetheart,” just like we’d
heard they did.
In between observing W & S, Miss Moon found herself answer-
ing questions about Canada. “I'm going to Lake of the Woods for my long week end,” one man told her cheerfully. Miss Moon tried to explain that Lake of the Woods was sixteen hundred miles from
New York. He looked perplexed ;i
but game. É
Well that’s the sort of life our || entertainment editor leads and a |
hard life it is, too, sometimes. It |
exhausts us just to see Miss Moon |
in action. Her curious working || habits, on which we reported at length some months ago, have not changed one whit. She still wor|
ries all day, drinking coffee (and |§
occasionally, no doubt, flagons of |§
matzo-ball soup) and writes only at night—and all night. At the very last moment,.she staggers in0
to the office, looking like a man who tried to go to Lake of the || Woods on a long week end, and flings her manuscript on our desk.
Odd thing, though—for her this •§ system works as her story shows.
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