The Difference between the Men and the Boys
The Difference between the Men and the Boys
1969
The UCLA boys have been working all day to transform the Castle’s dining room into a medieval cave for one of Jack’s Tom Jones parties, inspired by his favorite movie of the same name. The movie came out years ago, but Jack manages to find every theater in town still showing it. He’s seen that picture at least a dozen times.
So while the muscular tawny boys are positioning the prince of Parma throne, which weighs at least 300 pounds, at the head of the long table, Jack’s personal chef is busy preparing lamb chops and a watercress salad, green beans and corn on the cob. At half past six, the harpsichordist who will serenade them all throughout the evening arrives. The four-foot-tall candles are lit, the goblets of wine are set out on the table and Jack is ready for his dinner guests.
He’s invited Stevie and Patsy from the office, along with an art dealer and his long-legged wife. Also in attendance is a Hollywood producer with a young blond starlet whom no one’s ever heard of and Zsa Zsa Gabor. Zsa Zsa is accompanied by her Yorkshire terrier and a journalist from Life magazine, because wherever Zsa Zsa goes, the press follows. The journalist has a pointy goatee—which may or may not be part of his costume—and has a Nikon camera looped about his neck, hanging down over his ruff collar.
Jack requested that everyone come in costume and asked Stevie to design a green velvet hooded cloak for him. He insists on carrying a genuine sword, which he slices through the air every now and again. After too many drinks, Stevie and Patsy convince him to set the sword aside before he beheads someone.
Jack seats Zsa Zsa at the head of the table, on the throne, and then places a bejeweled crown upon her platinum updo. Like much of the ornamentations in the Castle, the crown is a fake loaded up with rhinestones. Zsa Zsa is delighted to be the focal point of the evening. Stevie is less amused. She’s not a fan of Zsa Zsa’s, mostly finding her to be boring and self-absorbed. Before the first course comes out, it’s fairly obvious that the starlet, dressed in a country maid outfit that laces up the front and gives her breasts an added boost, has caught Jack’s eye. Even the Hollywood producer takes note of the way Jack is glancing at her, and she at him.
As the UCLA boys bring out the food, Jack’s guests search the table for silverware. There is none. And there will be none.
“It’s a Tom Jones party,” Jacks says, laughing. “You have to eat with your hands.”
And so they do. But the lamb is fatty and slippery. There’s no way to do this gracefully, and after several rounds of cocktails and bottles of wine, it doesn’t much seem to matter. The art dealer’s once very proper wife is now gnawing on a bone; Zsa Zsa’s dog has his paws on the table, lapping up the juices off her fingertips; Patsy can’t seem to hold on to her ear of corn; the starlet has lamb juice dribbling down her chin and onto her very ample cleavage. When Stevie sees Jack refill his wineglass again, she nudges his water glass closer, which he ignores.
After dinner, the college boys escort the ladies—and the art dealer, who is too drunk to walk a straight line—out of the Castle and into Jack’s latest purchase, a 1935 fire truck with a ladder, booster tank and hose reel. The once bright red body is now faded from years of baking in the hot California sun.
After all his guests are on board, Jack revs up the engine, laughing as he proclaims, “You know what they say: ‘The difference between the men and the boys is the price of their toys.’?”
And with the bells a-clanging, they speed down Sunset Boulevard, where Jack parks his fire truck outside the Pandora’s Box nightclub. There they dance and drink and dance some more. The reporter is scribbling notes all the while, as his Nikon captures the evening’s highlights.
It’s getting late, and one by one, Jack’s guests, including Stevie and Patsy, say their goodbyes and head home. When they announce last call, the only ones left standing are Jack, Zsa Zsa and the reporter.
As they’re driving back to Bel Air in the fire truck, the reporter turns to Jack and says, “So is it true, man? You’re the cat who invented the Barbie doll?”