Rue McClanahan - My First Five Husbands..And the Ones Who Got Away

CONTENTS

To Mark

T his book is about my life and experiences as I lived them, and anyone who doesnt like it can jolly well lump it. Others may have a different perception of events. I respect their right to render totally biased and self-serving commentary about their own lives, but only if sifted through long years and a few bourbons, dipped in forgiveness and wisdom, and salted with a sense of humorbecause thats what Ive done. But a word of caution: Writing a book is one hell of a lot of work. Let me assure you, I couldnt have done it without the love and support of the following people:

My erudite and sweet-smelling sixth husband, Morrow Wilson, whose advice always stopped short of interference; my beloved inimitable son, Mark Bish, and indefatigable sister, Dr. Melinda McClanahan, both of whom patiently endured uncounted phone calls to help with names and dates (and in my sisters case, repeated warnings: Dont you say anything bad about him!), as did my staunch and dear friends Andrew Greenhut, who had memories Id forgotten, and Marty Jacobs, Curator of the Theatre Collections of the Museum of the City of New York; my friend and assistant, Kathy Salomone, who not only helped type the manuscript, but without whom Id still be trapped in Computer Dysfunction Hell; my pal, Ed Kaczmarek, who took phone calls at his home and office in Chicago to get me out of the Computer Dysfunction Hells that even Kathy couldnt solve; my literary agent, Wendy Sherman, who shepherded me to Broadway Books; my editor at Broadway Books, Ann Campbell, who gently, firmly advised a better format while planning her wedding and never got the two confused; my memoir guru, Joni Rodgers, who, along with Ann, devised that better format, working hand-in-hand with me with unfailing enthusiasm; the design and production team at Broadway; all my friends who have been saying excitedly to me for over two years, Oh, I cant wait to read it! And finally, Saint Dymphna, patroness of insanity.

In a few instances, Ive chosen, in spite of temptation, to refrain from using specific names and going into exquisite detailnot so much from fear of getting sued, although I might invite several lawsuits if I let it all hang out, but because, in spite of being a legal grown-up for some fifty-ummph years, like a good Southern girl, I respect my family elders, many of whom are still hale and hearty and possessed of clear eyesight. So some details have been altered, some events condensed, and some names changed to protect the innocent (me) and to discourage a few black-hearted scalawags.

I m told the Esquimaux have a charming take on lovemaking. They call it laughing together. Working from that premise, we could refer to the Laughing Together Quotient, or the LTQ. You could have an LTQ from snicker to guffaw right up to belly laugh. But as I have yet to know an Esquimau under the walrus blankets, Ill stick to the Lower 48, and using our more familiar reference, refer herein to certain gentlemen (and a couple of the other kind) in regard to their FQthat is, of course, as you undoubtedly surmise, their Fun in Bed Quotient, or Fun Quotient, for short.

As every woman knows, its possible for a man to have an FQ of A+ and an IQ of Zip. Ah, yes, we know him wellhe falls into the Smoldering Handyman or Stanley Kowalski Category. Certainly right up there at the top of my All-Time Hits List. But generally, high IQs bestow upon their owners equally high FQs, since FQ is greatly enhanced by imagination and wit. Two of the best lovers Ive known were psychoanalysts, both brilliant.

Loony, but brilliant.

And FQs of A+. Rare as a day in May? Let me tell youwhich I shall. This book is about men I have known, in both the platonic and biblical senses. Some I knew only slightly, some quite well. Some Ill love always, some I no longer like very much, and there are a few Id like to strip naked, tie to a maypole, smear with sweet syrup near a beehive, then stand back and watch. Ill describe a goodly number of these hot dudesand dudskeeping the nicest man for last, becauseif for nothing elseId like to leave you, dear reader, with a good taste in your mouth, and Hubbies #3 and #4 might make you want to rush to gargle. There were times I truly wondered, Lord, will I EVER get it right? Thank God I thrive on variety.

Tomorrows assignment: Bring in five scenes depicting five reasons to get married.

Barney Browns acting class, Perry-Mansfield Dance-Drama Camp, Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Summer of 1955. I was twenty-one, my partner a year younger.

Theres only one reason to get married, and thats being in love, I told my scene partner. I guess some people get married for money, butI frownedwould you really get married for money if you werent in love?

I dunno.

Well, I wouldnt. Should we put it down anyway?

I guess so.

Okay, weve got two reasons. What else?

Okay, he said. See, maybe someone was run over by a car or something, and to keep from going to jail, he marries the girl he ran over.

Hmm. I considered that. No, thats not logical. Gosh, this is hard. Okay, look, lets say youre getting married, okay? So why are you marrying this girl?

Well, he squirmed, I never really thought about getting married for any reason.

My Lord, hes gay.

Oh, brother, I sighed. Were gonna flop.

So we brought in two reasons: marrying for love and for money. But I simply couldnt imagine getting married without being in love, and up to that moment, my experience of love waswell, lovely! Pen is the first boy I remember being enamored of. I was five. We played house, imagining we were a married couple. In my mind, this meant romance. In his mind, it meant mud pies. (A dynamic that persists between many married couples.) My first really big heartthrob was Benny Frank Butler, from ages eight to fourteen. In junior high, Al Ringer and Johnny Brooks gave me fits of unrequited passion. And I liked my high school beau so much, I married him thirty-five years later. In college, there was dear Bill Bennett, and heck, I was still a virgin! So whos the first man I ever slept with? Thats what everyone wants to hear. Who was first? What was it like? Lets make a game of it: Erotic Mystery Maze! Follow the Hidden Clues to the Virgin Encounter! Three free spins to get it right!

As I made my way in the world, my worldly ideas of love evolved. Over the next twenty-nine years I lived out five marriages that afforded me plenty of reasons why people get married, including a raft of reasons not to. In the pages that follow, youll find my musings on my various attempts at the venerable institution of marriage. Each time, I believed the wedding would be the first day of a lifelong union. My suspicion that Id possibly made a horrible mistake came later. Sometimes as late ashmm