"Well, of course," Cooke said to the radio again. "He hasn't had a chance to play that much."
The front doorbell rang, and Butler Eric ushered in the Greenes. Lorne was wearing the fancy tuxedo with the cowboy belt buckles. "I designed it," he said to Cooke, spinning around to show it all. "You like it?"
"Uh, beautiful," said Cooke, with the flashing smile. He dresses very conservatively.
On the way downtown Greene told his Willie Davis joke, and Cooke began to talk about the Forum again. His thoughts keep coming back to the Forum. It will be ready, he says, at the end of this year.
"Boy," he said, "will I be there when they lay that ice down there for the first time. It will be night, you see, and I'm going to be the first man out on it, on my skates. I'll be all alone. Just me on the ice. And then, after I skate on it a little, we'll call out the Kings, and I'll play hockey with them. We'll have great fun for about five minutes—and then I'll fall down exhausted and that will be that."
The Cadillac pulled into the circular driveway, and the foursome got out. Another Hollywood benefit, and everybody was there: Danny Thomas, who began talking football with Cooke; movie stars, all the celebrities. All the big people who know Cooke and believe in him.
"You know," Cooke said, confidential for a moment, "I go to bed each night feeling a little guilty, I'm having such fun. This is the good life."
The spotlight came on and the Cooke table settled back for an evening of fun. Lorne started to tell his joke.
Jack Kent Cooke, that's who.