James Bacon composes this memoir highlighting his more colorful and interesting personal experiences throughout his Hollywood career and life as a reporter, author, and actor. Focusing on the stars and starlets of Hollywood's Golden Age of the 1950's, Bacon shares highly amusing stories of times spent with names that are legendary today. I discovered this book some time ago, going through a box of my grandmother's old books, she, like my mother, was a great reader. Nights of epic drinking and carousing with the larger than life stars of the day such as Errol Flynn, George Burns, Milton Berle, Rat Packers, Jacki Gleason, Desi and Lucy Arnaz, tawdry affairs with a bombshell or two (this gentlemen won't tell), and clandestine meetings with the incomparable Howard Hughes. As a child I was familiarized with these names and their contributions to popular culture, though they were all old men or passed away by the time I was old enough to begin truly appreciating their work. While I've seen on Nick At Night old reruns of I Love Lucy and The Honeymooners, and the Johnny Carson Ultimate Collection is in my Downloads folder, what I remember most about these now mythical figures of screen and stage past are the stories my own grandfather would tell me in our brief time together, playing gin rummy or watching WWF wrestling as a young child. I read it to be closer to my Papa Richard.
Repellent, misogynistic, racist (imagine a book that finds humor in the use of "wetback"), homophobic, and just generally smug. I hated every page of this book, but did finish reading it. Suffice to say, the lengthiest chapters are those that deal with celebrities (Marilyn Monroe being one of them)who are no longer around to take issue with the porcine author's lewd tales.
If I could have given this book NO stars, I would have. One for the recycling bin.