Truth Be Told Page 6

  There are a lot of pretty voices that can’t sell a song. They’re just pretty. But when you hear You got to win . . . a little. Lose . . . a little, you know it can’t be anybody else but Jimmy Durante. It’s not only the voice; his personality comes out in the pauses, too.

  Once, when he was having difficulty with a song, Sinatra called Pavarotti for advice. Pavarotti didn’t know the song. So Frank sang it for him. It was called “Remember” by Irving Berlin.

  Frank sang it smooth. “No,” Pavarotti, told him. “It’s an angry song. This-a guy is-a pissed. So hit the b in “remember.” Instead of remember, make it remem-ber.

  It’s those little things . . .

  Bat out of Hell

  This song reminds me of a good time I had with Bob Costas. This was when he was doing the Later with Bob Costas show. I told him how my dream interview is “Good evening ...,” then the door opens and I discover who the guest is.

  Bob and I decided to get surprise guests for each other—no prep. They just walk in. So I sent him Mario Cuomo. And Mario was great because he was one-wording Bob at the start. “Yes . . . No.” Just to make it difficult.

  Bob sent me a guy I’d never seen before. The guy walked on the set, and I had no idea who he was. So I asked him his name. He said, “Meatloaf.”

  I said, “When you check into a hotel, do they call you Mr. Loaf?”

  Silent Night

  Talk about an entrance. I’ll never forget when I first met Barbra Streisand. She was relatively unknown and singing at the Eden Roc in Miami Beach. Her manager called me up and said, “Nobody’s coming. The waiters are standing on the tables applauding, but nobody else is here. Will you put her on the radio?”

  The producers weren’t impressed: “Just another pretty face.” But they booked her.

  Barbra said something before that first interview that remains etched in my mind almost fifty years later. “I know you don’t know me. But you are going to know me, Larry King, you are going to know me.”

  “Silent Night” is Barbra at the top of her game. A Catholic priest once told me Barbra’s “Silent Night” was the best ever done.

  A-Tisket, A-Tasket

  Ella Fitzgerald was like a housewife, your neighbor down the street. What a nice lady. And boy could she sing.

  Streisand told me she wouldn’t have dared follow Ella in concert.

  The Kid from Red Bank

  I love this Count Basie story. It’s a big night—Sinatra opens at the Fontainebleau. Count Basie’s band is playing. As Sinatra starts singing, he notices that Basie has music in front of him at the piano.

  What’s going on? Sinatra wonders. Basie never uses sheet music. The arrangements are in his head. Basie just plunked away in that very distinctive style. What the hell is Basie doing with sheet music? Frank works his way down the stage. He gets behind the piano and takes a closer look.

  It’s not sheet music. Basie’s got the Racing Form opened up and he’s analyzing the next day’s races.

  At the next break, Frank goes over to Basie and asks him about it. “What are you doing?”

  And Basie says, “I can do more than one thing at once, you know.”

  Now, that’s my definition of confidence. “When you sing with Basie, the band propels you,” Frank told me. “If you can’t sing with Basie, you can’t sing.”

  This Land Is Your Land

  Pete Seeger was called a Communist when he was with a group called the Weavers. When he was called to testify before the HUAC hearings, Seeger refused to answer and was convicted of contempt. I asked him, Who is the greatest American hero?

  He said, “American?”

  I said, “Yes, specifically American.”

  “Geronimo.”

  Seeger explained: Geronimo was a pure American hero. He fought against invaders. He was a genius tactician. Anybody who ever fought against him marveled at his techniques. Plus, he’s saluted every time a guy jumps out of an airplane.

  Begin the Beguine

  This was one of the greatest musical arrangements of all time. Artie Shaw was a genius. He married Lana Turner and dated Rita Hayworth. I think he married eight times. Artie stopped playing clarinet at age fifty-four. I asked him why, and he said, I have nothing more to say.

  He lived for another half century, taught students, did interviews, but he never played his instrument again. If there wasn’t anything new to say, he didn’t want to say anything.

  The Way We Were

  I had Marvin Hamlisch on my radio show one night for five and a half hours. He answered questions, played songs, even wrote songs on the air.

  Marvin was a prodigy. A lot of times prodigies don’t go very far because they know more than their teachers—so they aren’t pushed. Marvin kept getting better.

  There was something special about him on the piano. Garth Brooks told me a story about being at an event where several piano players followed each other. When Marvin touched the keys, it was as if somebody had brought in a new piano. It felt to Garth like the piano was breathing and bending around Marvin’s fingers.

  “That’s the difference between owning an instrument and mastering one,” Garth said. “When you heard Marvin play, you wanted to sob.”

  Light My Fire

  I had Jim Morrison on the show the night after he was arrested in Miami. What a handsome guy. His father was an admiral, and he was a rebellious poet. He died in a bathtub of a drug overdose.

  You know what I think of when I hear “Light My Fire”? My childhood pal Asher Dann. Asher managed Jim at one point. They had fistfights. Knock down, drag out fights.

  Now Jim is buried in Paris. And there are days when you’ll find Asher wearing a neck brace having breakfast at Nate ’n Al’s.

  Chances Are

  Johnny Mathis had one of the most romantic voices of all time. When he did concerts, the women would crush up against the stage. Johnny would walk along the stage holding out his hotel key while the girls tried to grab it.

  For some reason, the program director at WIOD in Miami did not share this passion for Johnny Mathis’s voice. Harry Ballows hated Johnny Mathis’s voice. Couldn’t stand it!

  A lot of radio stations are formatted these days. The music is predetermined. But back then, a lot of disc jockeys could play whatever they wanted. So whenever we saw Harry Ballows walking down the hall, we’d put on a Johnny Mathis tune. As soon as he heard, “Chances are ...” he’d cup his hands over his ears, press down as hard as he could, and run for it.

  We played Johnny every time we saw him.

  I Left My Heart in San Francisco

  Tony Bennett is the most amazing of all. He perpetually stays on top. He’s eighty-four, and he sings every day. Many of his concerts have a unique close. He puts the mike down and sings a cappella. You really feel the power of his voice.

  This song always reminds me of my recovery following heart surgery. A brain surgeon came over to wish me well while I was still in the hospital. Then he started to complain. He said, “These heart surgeons. Everyone sees them as heroes, but they’re really all plumbers. They move things around. That’s it. But brain surgery, that’s different. We have to act with infinite skill. One slight movement with our hand can affect your memory. We have to be delicate. We are the definition of precision. And nobody knows!”

  I said, “Hey, the song ain’t ‘I Left My Brain in San Francisco.’”

  Rhythm Is Gonna Get You

  There are certain voices that remind you of places. The Miami Dolphins brought me back to a game last year to honor me. They let me announce a quarter of the game over the radio. Gloria Estefan was there. She gave me a big hug. It was like going home again.

  New York State of Mind

  If you’re away from New York and want to feel like you’re back home, this is the song you play.

  Honey in the Horn

  They used to call Al Hirt the Round Mound of Sound. He used to tell me stories about leaving his club in the French Quarter of New Orleans at two in the
morning and walking down the street with his band. At the same time, Pete Fountain would leave his club with his band. All the musicians would meet and walk down the streets playing music.

  Way Down Yonder in New Orleans

  Years ago, I was king of the Mardi Gras in New Orleans. They make a special outfit for you with a crown. They make special doubloons with your face on it and you toss them to the crowds. At the end of the motorcade is breakfast at 3 a.m.

  I can remember walking with Brad Pitt through areas still devastated by Hurricane Katrina. Brad and Angelina Jolie had moved there and were helping to restore the city.

  When I think of those moments, I can hear Harry Connick Jr.’s voice.

  Graceland

  I don’t know why this South African rhythm resonated with me so much. That’s one of the great things about Paul Simon. He’s always looking for a new place to take you.

  Blue Skies

  The last time Willie Nelson came on my show, I asked him if he’d smoked pot that day. He said, “Right before the show.”

  Birth of the Blues

  When Sammy Davis Jr. was at the height of his career, he had a sign on his dressing room in Vegas that said PLEASE SMOKE.

  I interviewed him after he found out he had cancer. “It’s been a blessing,” he told me, “a miracle. I know I can’t drink now. I know I can’t smoke. I’m going to lead a clean life. I’ve got to live, man.” He was crying, thanking all the people who were supporting him.

  Afterward, he went back to the green room where my friend George Schlatter was waiting for him. George said as soon as he got there, Sammy drank a water glass full of booze and lit up a Pall Mall.

  “Sammy,” George said, “you just told Larry you had a miracle.”

  “I know,” Sammy said. “I’ll quit tomorrow.”

  School’s Out for Summer

  Alice Cooper is not what you see onstage. His wild dress in concert belies what he is: a good golfer.

  The Lawrence Welk Show Theme

  Lawrence Welk was such a bad host that you couldn’t stop watching the show. He was so bad that he was good. In all the years, he never learned how to host.

  But the great clarinet player Pete Fountain always gave Lawrence Welk a lot of credit. He said what Welk taught him was discipline. When you played in Welk’s band, you rehearsed at a precise time. You played the tune exactly the way it was designed. For a Dixieland player like Fountain, that was very important.

  Escapade

  Not only did I once dance with Janet Jackson, but she gave me suspenders with the nipples cut out.

  On the Street Where You Live

  This is a song from My Fair Lady. I love it when it’s sung by Vic Damone. Sinatra always said, “I wish I had Vic Damone’s voice.” He was envious—that a guy could just go out and sing like that. And Vic would rather play golf.

  I sat at Vic’s desk at Lafayette High School a few years after him. It was art class. I know it was Vic’s desk because he carved his name into it: Vito Farinola.

  Unforgettable

  Natalie Cole came on the show a couple of years ago and told the world that she was alive only because of dialysis. She had difficulty breathing. Her kidney functions were at 8 percent. She needed a transplant.

  Now get this: A nurse was watching the show with her niece, who was in the hospital dying from complications of childbirth. The nurse and the niece both agreed that it would be great to give Natalie a kidney. When the niece died, her kidney was donated to Natalie.

  Natalie came back on the show months later with the aunt and the sister of the donor. It all came about because of the show. That’s hard to top.

  My Heart Will Go On

  On a special we once did, celebrities talked about their favorite moments on the show.

  Celine Dion said her favorite memory was doing the show for the first time. She said her husband had told her, “The day you do Larry King is the day you’re going to be a star.” So she was really nervous.

  I had no idea. It reminded me that something had happened to me along the way. I used to be so proud when people in Miami told Miles Davis: “You gotta go on with the kid”—meaning me. It was a symbol to me of how far I’d come. Then it sort of flipped around. I’d become a symbol of how far they’d come.

  Michael Bublé got his break on my show. His grandmother was a huge fan of the show. Michael said she wasn’t going to believe it when she saw him on Larry King Live. So my producer, Greg Christensen, said: “Hey, why don’t we call her?” I phoned her from the makeup room. Michael was in the hallway holding his chest as if he were having a heart attack.

  La Vida Loca

  Ricky Martin played at my cardiac foundation gala right after “La Vida Loca” came out. You couldn’t have been bigger than Ricky Martin at the time. We were in the elevator at the Ritz-Carlton, and when the door opened, we were mobbed by a sea of girls. We couldn’t get out of the elevator. It was like a wave of energy crashing in on us.

  I thought about that when he came on my show last year to discuss his decision to tell the world that he’s gay. That took a lot of courage. He could have kept it to himself. But his decision made sense. He said his lowest moments were when he saw gays being put down. It pained him to not do anything about it when he knew he had the power to help make a change.

  Born in the USA

  I’ve interviewed everybody once. How did I miss Bruce Springsteen?

  Hero

  I didn’t know what to expect when I heard Mariah Carey was coming on the show. At the time, Mariah had the most number-one-selling singles of any solo artist—and that included Elvis. But she also had an image as a pampered diva. AT&T even played off that image in a commercial.

  Let me tell you something: Mariah Carey is a good time. Do you know how you can get a feeling for people by the way they react with your friends? I got a feeling for Mariah by the way she hit it off with one of my oldest pals, Sid Young.

  We were doing the show at the studio in New York and Sid happened to be outside the elevator when she stepped out.

  Of course, Sid knew she was going to be the guest. But he’s always up for a little fun. He’d be perfect on Ashton Kutcher’s show Punk’d. Sid said in dumbfounded innocence, “Gee, you look like Mariah Carey.”

  She said, “I am Mariah Carey.”

  “C’mon . . .”

  “Really, I am.”

  Sid waved his hand in her face. “Don’t mess around with me.” He always does this, and the way he does it is perfect. He once had Oprah Winfrey believing he had no idea who she was for five minutes and trying to explain to him how Oprah really was her first name.

  “Honest!” Mariah said. She was almost about to take out her driver’s license to prove it—which is as far from a diva as she could possibly get. “I’m here to be interviewed by Larry King.”

  Finally, Sid started cracking up and they hugged each other.

  You get an idea why Sid is one of the great friends in the history of the world. There isn’t anybody who Sid isn’t friends with.

  In fact, there’s a slightly embellished story about Sid that explains just how popular he is. Many years back, he was playing golf with a man he’d recently met. After making a beautiful shot, Sid says: “That’s very similar to the shot I hit with Eisenhower last week.”

  The guy felt he was getting put on. So he says: “Sid, I’ll bet you $10,000 you don’t know Dwight Eisenhower.”

  So they flew to Pennsylvania and rang the bell at Eisenhower’s house. The door opens. Eisenhower comes out. “Sid!” Ike hugs him. “You gotta stay! You gotta stay!”

  The other golfer is deflated. They leave Eisenhower’s house a few hours later. Once they get out the door, the other guy feels he’s been taken. He says, “I can’t believe it. The one guy you knew. Eisenhower. It’s a good thing you hadn’t hit that shot and said you’d played with de Gaulle.”

  Sid says, “Chuck? An old buddy of mine.”

  The other golfer was having none of it. T
hey bet double or nothing. They flew to France. Sid took him to de Gaulle’s house. They ring the bell. From the top of the stairs, de Gaulle slides down the banister. “Sidney, my old friend!”

  Now the golf partner is totally whipped. He says, “There’s gotta be somebody you don’t know. I’ll bet you don’t know the pope.”

  Sid says, “One of my best friends.”

  They go to the Vatican. Ring the bell. They tell one of the cardinals that Sid Young was there to see the pope.

  The cardinal comes back and says, “Only Sid. No one else.”

  So the golfing partner says, “Wait a minute, Sid! You could have set all this up with the cardinal in advance. How can I be sure?”

  So Sid says, “Tell you what. I’ll go on the veranda with the pope and we’ll wave down to you.”

  The friend goes outside. Sid comes out on the veranda. There’s a guy with him. The guy’s dressed in a robe and that tall white peaked hat. They have their arms around each other.

  The other golfer’s wondering: Could this be fake?