Doris Day Confession

Friends, it's time I came clean with you. There's someone I've envied, adored, idolized and loved since I was a little boy-- Doris Day! I have always envied everything Doris Day. From her limitless, underrated talent to, most importantly perhaps, her love & devotion to animals. As a singer she's finally being recognized as not only one of the most prolific recording artists of all time, but also one of the best. As an actress her broad range of top flight ability was at home from trademark comedic roles to heavy duty drama. Whether it was as Jimmy Stewart's wife in The Man Who Knew Too Much-- which of course provided Doris with the song that became the soundtrack of her life, Que Sera, Sera-- to her gal-in-charge role of Julie, the stewardess being stalked by her very own psycho husband played by Louis Jordan. Doris Day made it look so damn easy and that was the problem. Her critics didn't get it, until recently. The fact that she made it look effortless and easy was the magic core of her talented soul. Looks-- check. Voice-- check. Charm-- triple check. What more did a gal need than a little glimmer of the intangible magic of our most precious girl next door, Miss Doris Day? As a young boy when Doris' television show premiered, I had no idea that the smiling, singing, sunny movie star driving the Barracuda convertible over the Golden Gate Bridge, wearing a yellow rain slicker & matching hood, was more or less forced to do a TV show she never wanted to do. Unfortunately for Doris, she put all her eggs in one basket & trusted her beloved husband Marty Melcher to invest the tens of millions of dollars she earned cranking out film after film and song after song for decades. Not only as a number one recording artist, but as the number one box office draw in Hollywood as well. He lost practically everything and the bad investment trail led directly to her long time attorney. Although Doris triumphed in suing the crooked lawyer that squandered her life earnings, the award was only a fraction of the money she amassed in her lifetime. The Doris Day Show was one of the last projects her agent-manager-producer husband signed her to shortly before his death in 1968. When Doris' son Terry began to unravel the financial mess, it was he who had to break the bad news to Doris. Resistant to the television project at first, Doris quickly realized that a commitment was a commitment as well as perhaps her financial lifeboat. She put her best foot forward and the professional attitude that propelled her to the top of the Hollywood food chain made the show such a smashing success that CBS begged her to continue season after season. The television show, as well as a 1975 autobiography, enabled her to once again achieve financial independence. She left Los Angeles forever to live in self-imposed exile in gorgeous Carmel, California. Over the years in Carmel, dozens of cherished, pampered & spoiled dogs have undoubtedly performed thousands of canine ballets on the Mexican saltillio tiles of her rambling, yet unpretentious ranch home. Until recently Doris still owned the Beverly Hills house she purchased after the sale of her Toluca Lake home in 1955. In the years since her move to Northern California that property was more or less merely a source of business revenue, as its rental rate (as of 2001) was nearly $30,000 a month. It takes a lot of dough to buy a lot of kibble! Most recently home to her son Terry until his death in 2004, Doris' long-time Beverly Hills home was sold. I must admit that, along with my dear friend Avril, we were given a personal tour of the North Crescent Drive house by none other than her son Terry, under what could perhaps be called less than truthful circumstances! That's another story, but the genuine, one-of-a-kind Doris Day story is still being performed. Although Doris' life has been saddened by the recent loss of her son Terry as well as several beloved doggies, her commitment to her animal foundation compels her to carry on. Now over 80 in chronological years, Doris is forever youthful, forever smiling, forever the young women descending the spiral staircase in the opening sequence of her television show. Forever Doris Day!