Klooka

Gerry arrived home about 1:30 early Sunday morning. He poured himself a Coke, sat in his easy chair in the living room, and turned on his TV set. He flipped through the channels, looking for a movie about to begin.

The Hollywood Canteen was just beginning, featuring a large cast of Warner Brothers contract players. Gerry liked old movies. This one was made in 1944 and featured Joan Leslie, one of his favorite actresses from days gone by. He remembered her from Yankee Doodle Dandy.

Gerry became engrossed by The Hollywood Canteen. He loved the opening number by Jimmy Dorsey and his Orchestra. There was a great song and dance number by Jane Wyman and Jack Carson, a favorite of Gerry's when he was little. One scene in the film was shot outdoors at the Farmers' Market on Third and Fairfax, not far from Gerry's old home. He got a real kick seeing it in the film.

Gerry fell asleep near the end of the movie. He woke up at daybreak and went to bed. He was going to sleep in this morning.

The phone rang. At first, Gerry didn't know where he was or what day it was. The phone rang again. He looked at this clock radio. It was a few minutes passed eleven. Gerry answered the phone.

"Hi, Gerry! It's Lorii! I'm going to spend the day with my father. I hope you don't mind."

"Sure, Lorii. Have a good time. Tell him I said 'Hi.' I think I'll stick around here today and just loaf. Will I see you later?"

"Probably not. My dad wants to take me out for dinner tonight," she said. "But I'll definitely see you in class tomorrow morning."

"OK," Gerry said. Then they hung up.

Gerry got up, slipped on an old pair of Levi's, a sweatshirt, and his tennis shoes. Then he went into his front yard and picked up the L.A. Times from the newspaper rack by his mailbox on the inside of his front wall. He went back inside, made breakfast, and read through the Calendar section of the paper.

Gerry thought about The Hollywood Canteen again. He liked that movie. It was great that Bette Davis and John Garfield organized the real Hollywood Canteen during the war. John Garfield had been one of his favorite actors when Gerry was a boy. He remembered feeling sad when his father told him that John Garfield had died in 1952. Garfield was only 39.

Now it was almost two o'clock. Gerry went for a walk. He loved walking along the beach to Pico Boulevard and then back to Main Street, little more than a mile north of Rose Avenue. He took his time walking home along Main, stopping at shops that caught his eye. Before he knew it, he was home. Time to practice.

Lorii called him around five o'clock. "Gerry, would you like me to meet you tonight at Mackay's?" she asked. "I could come by after I visit with my father, say around 11 o'clock. I miss being with you."

"That would be terrific, Lorii," Gerry said. "I've been restless all day, and I miss you, too."

After her call, Gerry resumed practicing. Then he stopped to make a salad for dinner. Before he knew it, it was eight o’clock, time to go to Mackay’s. The Sunday night crowds were often the liveliest of the whole week. He liked playing with the Nighthawks.

When he arrived at Mackay's, he set up his instruments. Marty walked over to him. "What shall we play tonight, Gerry? Any preferences?"

"You know, Marty, I watched The Hollywood Canteen on TV last night," Gerry said. "Why don't we play music from the 1940s, from the war years tonight? We haven't done just that for a long time. And let's use some of our extended arrangements, too. I think the dancers will love it."

"That's fine with me, Gerry," Marty said. "I'll help you pull out the charts."

At nine o'clock sharp, the band hit with their extended arrangement of Tommy Dorsey's Opus One. They followed it with Glenn Miller's version of Song of the Volga Boatmen. The crowd loved it!

Opus No. One
by Ralph Burns and His Orchestra
from New York, New York (1977)

Next Chapter:  Volga Boatmen