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Palace, a huge theater in Manhattan and about as big a venue as one could play in those days. In the early 1900s vaudeville was the most popular form of entertainment. This was before the advent of movies and radio. For the price of one ticket you saw a multitude of different acts: singers, dancers, jugglers, acrobats, comics, everything you could think of But by the late thirties, vaudeville’s popularity had declined, and it became harder and harder for Uncle Dick to find work.
    Eventually, because of his show business connections, he got a job at the box office of the Broadway Theatre on Broadway, between Fifty-second and Fifty-third Streets, a landmark theater that is still around today. It was a beautiful place and Uncle Dick was proud to work in such a distinguished theater.
    Uncle Dick filled my head with all sorts of fascinating stories about show business. He told me all about the ins and outs of being a successful entertainer and warned me of the dangers of the road and what to watch out for. He taught me that talent isn’t everything; it’s really those entertainers who have empathy with their audience who are the most successful. He told me that nothing is ever really new: when people are raving about some new trend, chances are it’s been done before.
    I loved to visit Uncle Dick at the theater. Once when the legendary French crooner Maurice Chevalier was playing there he got me in so I could watch both the rehearsals and Chevalier’s shows, the whole thing. It was wonderful. I got to know Chevalier later in my life, and he gave me some advice that I still use to this day. He told me to introduce the musicians to the audience. He said, “Show the people that there are artists on the stage other than yourself” Not only does this give the audience a rest during the show—they’re not just watching a singer with a microphone in his face the whole time—but it also acknowledges the many people on the stage and behind the scenes who are responsible for a great show. I’ve always believed in giving credit to those who work so hard to make it all happen.
    I have a favorite Maurice Chevalier story. There was a musicians’ strike once when Chevalier was working at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. Instead of canceling his performance. Chevalier came out and sang the whole show
a cappella
. And he got five standing ovations. Now that’s showmanship! In fact, I’ve used that very same technique during my own performances. I’ll turn off all the microphones and perform for the audience with only the pure acoustics of the hall to amplify my voice. Chevalier performed the whole show without any microphones or musicians! I can’t think of a better illustration of the old adage, “The show must go on.”
    Uncle Dick also taught me that there are many rules to be followed in show business, but that sometimes breaking those rules is just as important as keeping them to become a classic performer. For every golden rule there is one waiting to be broken.
    One day he sat me down and said in a very serious voice, “There is one singer who has changed the face of this business, and you must watch everything he does. His name is Bing Crosby, and he’s the boss.” From that day on I studied Bing. I learned a lot watching him grow as a performer. He’s the one who showed all of us how to do it. Bing’s early movies were overly dramatic; he was almost too hot for the screen, but with experience, he started relaxing. He’d just sit there on a stool and tell everybody to take it easy why not just go out fishing! He developed this real relaxed attitude that appealed to everybody.
    Bing was one of the first performers to effectively use the microphone. Before the microphone, a singer had to sing very loudly in order for his voice to hit the back of the hall or, as Rudy Vallee is classically known for, he would use a cardboard megaphone to amplify the sound. Because of the microphone, Bing was able to relax his voice. There was