PomPoms Up!

by Carol Cleveland

  It had just gone midnight on New Year’s Eve, while we stood out on deck in the warm summer’s breeze under a star-lit sky looking out at the beautiful island of Bora Bora, when Carl proposed to me. It couldn’t have been a more romantic setting, so of course I said:

  “Yes.”

  Over the next two years I spent a total of nine months on cruise ships, travelling around the Pacific Ocean, Caribbean Sea, Atlantic Ocean, Mediterranean Sea, Tasman Sea, South China Sea and Norwegian Sea and having the most exciting time! I saw some amazing sights and made several lasting friendships. I also got to spend time with celebrities like June Allyson and Virginia Mayo, who were travelling free in return for doing a couple of Q&A’s – I’ve since done that myself! In between cruises we did spend a little time on land in Florida, California and England.

  I loved Carl’s New York Jewish humour and he was a very intelligent guy, but he drove me crazy at times! He could never be quiet or sit still and was always talking and moving around – he loved noise! He’d have the TV on all day in the cabin, while at the same time tapping away on his PC and playing with his latest noisy gadget. He was also a junk food addict and was always munching on crisps or nuts!

  I was beginning to doubt whether we could actually live together on land, so I kept putting off the date for our wedding. The relationship had just started to get a bit strained when an old lover of Carl’s reappeared in his life. Her husband had died and she was now free to be with him – problem solved! I gave him my blessing and told him that he must go to her. We parted as friends who’d shared a wonderful adventure together. They’re married now and he has the family he’d always yearned for.

  The only person I felt badly about was my mother, as Carl had told her she could come and live with us in California and she was really looking forward to getting back there. That would be her last opportunity.

  As for me, I never give up hope – NEXT!?

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE ROYALS AND I

  Over the years, I’ve been very fortunate to have met and worked with some very famous and well-respected people, but there’s none as famous or respectable as our own Royal Family and I’ve been privileged to have met some of them too.

  The first time was back in 1962 when I was still a drama student at RADA and was about to make my first appearance on a London stage. I was in a revue called Take to the Hills, which was performed at the Scala Theatre over five nights. It was in aid of seven different children’s charities and Princess Margaret, along with the Earl of Snowdon, was present on the Gala First Night.

  Actor Gerald Harper directed it and members of the cast included Gemma Jones, Michael Latimer and Patrick Mower. I performed two song and dance numbers, neither of which I can remember unfortunately. What I do recall is that in one of them – my solo – I played a tramp and ended up in a rubbish bin! Following the opening night, the newspapers carried two photos of me in the bin and I suppose I’m lucky that they didn’t say, “Carol Cleveland was rubbish!”

  After the first performance the cast all lined up backstage as the Countess and Earl of Snowdon made their way down the line. I did my curtsey and she said:

  “I’m so glad you’ve managed to get out of that rubbish bin alright…. it looked awfully uncomfortable.”

  Mummy was very proud of me as always, although I think she would have preferred me to have been one of the thirty Debutantes who were competing for “The Deb Dancer of the Year Award!”

  On another occasion some years later I was a guest at a different children’s charity event held in the Houses of Parliament. I’m pretty sure that it was there I was introduced to Princess Anne and we spoke briefly about Monty Python. I’m not sure whether she was a fan or not.

  Prior to that however, back in my modelling days when I was regularly draping myself across various objects – like cars, boats and furniture – at the big Earls Court exhibitions, I had a little chat with Prince Charles. This time, while dressed in a long red evening gown, I was expounding the virtues of the new Jaguar to the crowd gathered around it at the Motor Show. Prince Charles was being conducted around and had stopped to have a little listen. As I stepped off the stand he smiled and said:

  “You look very nice and you seem to know a lot about cars.”

  “Thank you Your Highness, but actually I know nothing about cars. I guess I’m just good at selling them.”

  But the best was yet to come. In the summer of 2007, while sifting through my post, I found an envelope which appeared to have a royal crest stamped on it. I stared at it for a while, thinking it must be a new stamp that had just come out that I hadn’t heard about! When I opened it however, there was an invitation for me to attend:

  ‘A Reception to be given at Buckingham Palace by the Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh for Americans working in the United Kingdom.’

  I was gobsmacked! I had on two occasions been invited to receptions at the American Embassy, so I wondered if that was how I got onto the Palace guest list. Who cares?!… I was going! My only disappointment was that there was no letter included in the envelope, explaining the protocol when one is introduced to the Queen. So, OK…. I wasn’t going to get to shake her hand, but I might get a wave or something!

  The day came and I made my way to the Palace, walking through St. James’s Park. It was a beautiful sunny day and I felt quite elegant in my lovely black Frank Usher dress with matching jacket done up with a diamanté clasp. At the Palace gates I was asked to show my invitation, along with some ID. I then walked slowly across the large gravel forecourt, glancing back over my shoulder at the tourists peering through the railings…. wondering who I might be?!

  “It’s ME,” I thought. “It’s me…. VIP!”

  I went through the archway, past the parked limos and up the steps to the main entrance. I was unusually early, so I descended the stairs to the powder-room – I’ve never understood why it’s called this, as I have yet to see a single particle of powder in any one of them!

  Anyway….it was huge and very elegant. I was a bit disappointed that the toilets didn’t look like thrones and that the toilet paper didn’t have the royal crest on it – as I was depending on taking some of this as a souvenir! Never mind – surely the linen towels laid out by the washbasins would have the crest embroidered on them. Nope! I went back into the toilet cubicle and grabbed a few folds of the bog-standard bog paper – well, it came from the Palace, didn’t it?!

  I now made my way to the top of the main staircase where I was ushered into one of two rooms I could see ahead of me. I was still a little early, so there were only about eight other people there. I had no idea how many people would be attending, but judging by the size of the room I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be EVERY American living in the UK! I was offered a glass of champagne – the real thing and not a sparkling wine that everybody tries to pass off as champagne these days at parties – and some delicious canapés.

  The room gradually started to fill up and I saw Ruby Wax coming towards me. We hadn’t met before, but we knew of each other. She said:

  “Oh my God…. I’m so nervous! Are you nervous?!”

  I realised that she was obviously going to be introduced to the Queen. I was a bit envious, but at least I had nothing to be nervous about…. and I was able to have another glass of champagne!

  Two people arrived that I knew – an actor I’d recently worked with and a comedian I was about to work with at the Edinburgh Festival, Rich Hall. John Barrowman joined us and I accepted my third glass of champers…. which, by the way, is my favourite tipple! By now, there were about forty or fifty of us.

  About fifteen minutes later, the adjoining door to the other room opened and we were requested to make our way towards it. As I reached the door a royal aid asked me for my invitation, which I handed to him, thinking he would then return it to me, but he didn’t. I said to the chap standing next to me:

  “Oh, he’s held on to my invitation! I was hoping to keep that as a souvenir!”
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  “Well, he needs that so he can introduce you.”

  “WHAT?!…. Introduce me?!!”

  There were two people in front of me and I could now see the Queen standing on the other side of the door!! Oh, my God! What would I say?! What was I supposed to do?! Think! Think! Protocol, protocol! My mind was racing as the lady in front of me moved forward and suddenly, I heard my name announced….

  “Miss Carol Cleveland…. Actress.”

  I was in a daze after that! I’m pretty sure I did everything correctly though – I let her offer her hand first before I extended mine and I let her speak first:

  “Good afternoon.”

  I did a little curtsey as I replied:

  “Good afternoon, Ma’am.”

  Then she looked at me….expectantly. I was standing there, smiling inanely at her and thinking, “Say something, Carol! You’ve got to SAY something!” She was wearing her usual shift-dress with matching jacket, so I looked her up and down and said:

  “Yellow…. my favourite colour.”

  “Oh,” she replied.

  I swiftly moved on, possibly ignoring the Duke’s extended hand altogether! I walked around for a few minutes muttering to myself, “Yellow….my favourite colour! Did I really say that!?” I then got into conversation with two American military personnel and told them about my un-prepared chat with the Queen and that I’d called her ‘Ma’am.’ One of them said:

  “Oh no. When you first meet the Queen, she’s ‘Your Majesty.’ After that, you can call her ‘Ma’am.’”

  I thought to myself, “Hey…. Is she going to remember that we hadn’t met before? Unlikely! I think I got away with that one.”

  Then I told him what I’d said to her:

  “Oh no. The Queen doesn’t wear yellow…. the Queen wears GOLD!”

  I spent the remainder of the reception looking over my shoulder, fully expecting to be taken by the arms and carted off to the Tower!!

  Chapter Eighteen

  MONTY PYTHON ON STAGE

  Oh… bring back those happy, snappy, crazy, lazy days on the road with the Python boys – I miss those days!

  Working with the boys on Monty Python’s Flying Circus was of course great fun but I didn’t get to see a great deal of any of them outside of working hours. I don’t think even they all got together very much. There was some socialising, naturally, but not enough that gave me the opportunity to really get to know any of them well. Hence I always looked forward to any location filming, because we would usually all dine out together then and I so enjoyed listening to their witty repartee.

  Undoubtedly for me the best times were when we all went on the road together. I’ve always loved touring in a production anyway, because it gives me the opportunity to visit different places that I might otherwise never get to see, but touring with the Pythons offered so much more than that.

  In 1971 Eric suggested to the others that it might be fun to do a stage show and he has continued making this suggestion right up to the present day. He’s the one who usually organises these gigs and directs them too. It started with three late night shows at The Lanchester Arts Festival. I wasn’t involved in that one – it was an all-boy thing. It went well enough that they were later offered a three week tour around the UK and happily I was included in this one!

  April, 1973…. Monty Python’s First Farewell Tour

  We covered thirteen different cities and mainly performed for one or two nights in each place. It was exhausting and rather chaotic but we had lots of laughs along the way. We played at a peculiar variety of venues and got very mixed receptions – sometimes in front of tiny, bewildered audiences and at other times for rowdy thousands. Our first stop was Brighton – where I would later come to live for thirty-one years. Funnily enough, in all that time I only met one person who’d been to see the show…. but I’m sure we had a full house on the night!

  We travelled around in a big, black limo and it was the first time I’d been in a car with a drinks cabinet, which I thought was pretty fancy – we took advantage of it too. I now became aware of how much the other Pythons enjoyed their drink – not as much as Graham of course. It wasn’t only drink however – they all appreciated good food and we had lots of it! While driving from one venue to another the boys would peruse Egon Ronay’s Guide to British Eateries and decide where we might stop along the way for lunch. Two restaurants stick out in my mind for quite different reasons. I was very impressed with one because it had two dining areas – one for smokers and another for non-smokers. I hadn’t come across that before and I haven’t since! Being a non-smoker myself I think it’s a jolly good idea. The other restaurant, which had formerly been a stately manor house, was right in the middle of the Yorkshire Moors. We went there one evening and thanks to the boys I experienced truly fine dining for the first time. We had a very expensive bottle of Claret and I remember thinking it was like drinking liquid velvet.

  Graham’s drinking however was proving to be a bit of a problem for all of us. He seemed extremely nervous both on and off the stage, and would drink to calm himself. He’d drink during the performance and by the time we got to the end of the show he’d often be rather drunk. This was particularly annoying to Michael and me, as we depended on him to join us on stage during a sketch and he was coming on later and later, leaving us to make up silly dialogue and twiddle our thumbs. Then one night he didn’t come on at all, and John stepped on stage in his place. My first line was:

  “Hello Daddy!”

  John replied:

  “I’m not your Daddy.”

  I wasn’t sure who I wanted to strangle first!

  David Bowie was touring the UK at the same time and we ended up in the same hotel in Glasgow. Being a bit of a Bowie fan I was thrilled to meet him and his band in the lounge…. all made-up ready for their show. I’ve always regretted that I didn’t get a photo with him! We were all offered tickets for that evening’s concert but only I and Terry G went. It was the first time I’d been to such an ear splitting, head banging concert! Even as a teenager who adored Elvis I could never understand why girls just scream all the way through a concert, rather than listen to it.

  Terry and I were given seats on the back row of the stalls which were not that bad, as the floor was raked sufficiently for us to see over the heads in front of us. Then the concert started and the whole audience jumped to its feet! There was a railing behind us which some fans lifted themselves up onto, so Terry and I followed suit. We had a great view until quite suddenly we were all pushed from behind with such force that we landed on top of those in front of us! I didn’t see or hear much after that and I haven’t been to a rock concert since!

  When we did the television series everyone was extremely disciplined and professional – we had to be. But once we got on stage that all seemed to go out the window! There was a fair bit of ad-libbing and an awful lot of ‘corpsing’ going on during these shows – that is, they were all laughing and trying to make each other laugh when they shouldn’t be. Looking back now I realise just how very naughty, undisciplined and rather cocky they all were, but hey…. they (we) were all young – in our twenties – and the world was oysterish! Is that a word? Yes, it’s a Clevelandism!

  One thing was certain – the show on the whole was a great hit! It was thought to be good enough to take on yet another tour only a few months later – this time we travelled a little bit further.

  Summer, 1973…. Monty Python’s First Farewell Tour of Canada.

  We started in Toronto and flew across to Vancouver, stopping at various cities along the way. The tour was even wilder and wackier than the last one and we were treated very much like pop stars.

  The fun started on the flight over to Toronto. We travelled first class throughout the tour and on this particular aircraft there was a small lounge area behind the cockpit with a bar, two or three comfy chairs and a table against the window, seating six people. We partied all the way and I remember having one of the best meals I’ve ever had anywhere
…. let alone on a plane! It was silver service and included five courses, each accompanied with the appropriate beverage. I particularly remember the starter…. a scooped out melon filled with melon balls, avocado and prawns…. and the main course, which was Beef Wellington. During the flight we took turns to visit the captain in the cockpit, which was also a first for me. I don’t think one’s allowed to do that anymore. I, by the way was the only one who dressed for first class, in my favourite mauve trouser suit with matching big floppy hat. I think all the boys wore jeans.

  By the time we arrived we’d all had our fair share of alcohol and were getting rather silly. As we waited for our luggage, Terry G suddenly leapt on the carousel and laid down on it. Eric and I both joined him and there were three seemingly dead bodies going around between the suitcases! We got a lot of laughs and a lot of bemused looks too – John was certainly not amused. As we came out of the airport we were greeted by a huge number of screaming fans, which took us all by surprise. We were then put on an open-top bus and driven around the city so that we could wave and shout at people – heaven knows what they made of us.

  Our first night audience was quite different from the ones we’d been playing to in the UK…. which were pretty rowdy. Most of this audience had been especially invited and, as we peered out at them through the front curtain, we could see the mayor and other dignitaries, all dressed up to the nines. We hoped they knew what they were coming to see!

  The stage shows were a mixture of old favourites from the TV series and some never-before-seen sketches. One of the new ones – The Cocktail Sketch – involved Terry G, blacked-up as a southern American, vomiting into a cocktail glass which was then seemingly drunk by Terry J. The curtain came down to an audible groan. The boys, obviously not having the courage to do it themselves, sent me out in front of the curtain and forced me to apologise for their revolting behaviour, ending with my saying: