Page 48 - Layout 1
P. 48
36 Beverly Hills Gothic
THE RENT IS DUE
One time, when our $50-a-month rent was due, we didn’t have the money because my dad had gambled it all away. So my mother dressed me in shabby clothes. (I didn’t want to wear a torn sweater over an old, faded dress, but my mother scolded me, saying to look sad and stay silent.) Then my mother took me upstairs to the poker palace and pleaded with the manager, saying we didn’t have enough money for food, let alone the rent. The man gave her the rent money and warned her to tell my father to never, ever set foot in that place again.
My dad often borrowed money on our big, beige and black Studebaker sedan, refinancing it when he ran out of money. He was a big sport, always getting the check when we went out with friends and their families. He had a large group of men friends who would go out together to the “Turkish baths” and stay overnight. After I was married, my dad told me he and his buddies used to date the girls who played in the burlesque theatre downtown!
Above
Sidney, late 1930s.
