I see today is Red Skelton’s birthday, or would have been had he not died some thirteen or fourteen years ago.
Skelton was one of that generation of vaudevillians who were challenged to make the transition to radio and then television, and was one of the blessed few who succeeded.
I was working in Wahrenbrock’s Book House, a venerable used and antiquarian bookstore in San Diego, now also long gone, when one day Red and entourage walked through the doors.
He was a big man, I mean a towering big man, chomping on an unlit cigar and looking at books, mostly in his case art books.
He was followed by a half dozen people. His principal follower and in many ways it seemed his keeper was his wife Lothian who was loud and friendly and, personally, someone I really found impossible not to like. She referred to her husband as “Big Red.” And he was.
My task was to unobtrusively follow him around, as he when he’d fully chewed down his cigar he’d “discretely” clip it, letting the chewed remain drop to the floor, and then resume his explorations while throughly chewing the next bit… As he moved on I went in and quietly picked up the cigar bit…
They left an hour later having spent a small fortune…
Not the urbane Vincent Price who more regularly visited the store and also purchased art books, but equally vivid in my mind.
He mostly did sketch comedy, no doubt a carryover from his vaudeville days. Much, maybe most of his humor would not pass muster with our contemporary mores (nor his politics, so far as I am concerned…), but, there definitely were moments to remember…
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