Did I Say Dissuaded?

Editor’s note: These are short excerpts from Uncle Vellanoff’s journal 

At one time we were playing the Majestic in San Diego. One afternoon, when we had no matinees or evening performances several of our members went across the border to Tijuana. While there they heard a rumor that the police were told to be on the lookout for a fellow from Wisconsin and another from Minnesota. There was no connection between the two gentlemen. The police got word that someone had spotted both of them at the local cockfights, so the police converged on the scene. They immediately spotted the Wisconsin guy because he had brought a duck to the fight. Neither was it hard to spot the guy from Minnesota as he was betting on the duck.

     When we opened in the town of Claxton, Georgia, we found that our program was about fifteen minutes short. We players got together and came up with a performance about puns. It was a play on words. During the first performance, the groans from the audience dissuaded us from repeating that particular presentation.

     You’re probably wondering where someone new to the English language could come up with the word dissuaded. Well, one day when - - but that’s not really an interesting story.

     For some time we had as a member of our group an English gentleman who admitted to having political leanings toward Communism. While in England he had attended a Communism class but confessed that he had to drop out because of lousy Marx.

     This same gentleman, when first coming to America, had no money and was desperate for a job. He spent weeks trying to get some employment in and around the theaters, but to no avail. Besides being an actor, of sorts, he only had one other skill, and that was as a baker. He said, “I finally took a job at a bakery because I kneaded dough.”

     We had another fellow in our troupe who had fought with the French Fifth Army during World War I. He didn’t like to talk much about his experiences, but from the few comments he did make we could tell that the experience had been pure hell. He jokingly claimed that because he had survived mustard gas and pepper spray he was now a Seasoned Veteran.

     One member of our troupe did a one-man routine where he would eat anything someone from the audience would suggest. He ate handbags, belts, shoes, plus some really disgusting stuff. He had been doing this for several years and in the process he had become, or at least I thought so, addicted to brake fluid. But he claimed that he could stop at any time.

     We always enjoyed playing New York City. With all the theaters and other cultural establishments, it was just a great place to be. One of the things we enjoyed was a good relationship with the New York City Police. They were good about keeping our performances free of people who would have been disruptive, either on purpose or accidently, while under the influence. Because of their interest or endeavors, we would give them some complimentary tickets for each show.

     The police generally did a good job, but occasionally they received some uncomplimentary if not downright bad press. One such instance happened while we were in town. The headline said, “All the Toilets in New York’s Police Stations Have Been Stolen. Police Have Nothing To Go On.”