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One of the most tragic aspects of Joyce’s life was her decade plus relationship with actor Robert Vaughn. She was already well into dating “Bobby” at the time the “Man From U.N.C.L.E” craze was in full swing and was at his side right up through the filming of classic McQueen film, BULLITT.

Robert Vaughn was to be the love of her life and Vaughn, being a Catholic, could never seriously envision marriage to Joyce, yet they were engaged at various points in their long relationship. The biggest fly in the ointment however was not the question of religion but politics. It seems our Man from U.N.C.L.E. aspired to higher office like perhaps Senator Vaughn or even Governor Vaughn and one must remember that in the “Camelot” atmosphere of Washington D.C. that marked the “Kennedy” years, you required a certain image with a socially appropriate wife to stand by your side as you placed yourself in the forum of public opinion. It certainly could not include a life with a divorcee with a child – not in the sixties.

Yet Robert could not bring himself to break the bond between them so time and convenience led her to believe there was still hope right up until the end when it looked like he might actually run for office. Joyce told me that he actually recreated the Oval office in his home like it was a film set right down to the flag on the rug. ‘Bobby was obsessed with the Kennedy family and especially RFK who was a close personal friend.” She would always refer to them as “The two Bobbies.” At this point I refrained from connecting yet another parallel with Marilyn Monroe and Joyce’s uncanny connection with her persona. Joyce went along with all of Vaughn’s eccentricities because she knew she had found her soul mate and that was that. Joyce tried keeping touch with Vaughn but his new-found freedom from their relationship doubled his fondness for drinking and womanizing which were already the stuff of legend. Joyce loved to tell the story of Vaughn picking up this willing starlet and bringing her back to his house very late one night and then forgetting the whole evening thanks to a load of cocktails, and somehow he locked the woman out of the house and turned the lawn sprinklers full blast hoping she would just float away before passing out, only to be awakened by the Beverly Hills Fire Department with one wet screaming starlet not to mention all the elite neighbors awakened from a sound sleep to witness the floorshow, which happened to be on the front lawn this time around.

The long term impact of their break-up resulted in Joyce taking less and less interest in her career and spending more and more time by herself. Joyce was always in demand for voice-over work in commercials and cartoons and could have easily made the transition to character parts like Kathleen Freeman and Carole Cook, both of whom were protégés of Billy Barnes as well.

However with her solitude and loneliness came the inevitable weight gain, and Joyce, being a proud woman, had real tunnel vision when it came to her looks. Joyce could behave like a diva, and only Clint Eastwood himself could convince her to appear overweight on screen. For him she made her last major motion picture appearances in films like THE OUTLAW JOSIE WALES and ANY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE. Joyce loved Clint and felt embraced in his company and especially around his crew. Joyce remembered how Clint would practice spitting his tobacco into a spittoon ‘Clint just became that character in JOSIE WALES and spitting was his motivation.” If only Joyce could have found a few more like Eastwood she might have chose to stay with us a bit longer.

The greatest moment during the time I had with Joyce (and believe me there were many wonderful moments in the five years we knew each other) had to be the night of the televised tribute CBS gave for Jack Lemmon in honor of his new film TRIBUTE.
Joyce received a beautiful engraved invitation to the event, which was black tie, and yes, we would all have to sign releases as this was to be aired on National television the following month.

Joyce called in a complete panic as she was embarrassed about her weight. What if anything could she wear, and would I take her to the event? In other words, would I be her escort for her “Cinderella” night of nights. Of course I was honored to take the fabulous Joyce Jameson to any event and I told her so. She was also a bit nervous about what Jack Lemmon might think, seeing his former co-star looking less than her old self.

The big night finally arrived and Joyce drove over to my place looking elegant in a black cocktail dress. Draped around her shoulders was a white fur stole. I was in black tie and ready for whatever Jack Lemmon and company had to offer. I drove her car that night to the CBS studio in the valley that had been turned into a fabulous nightclub set for the party and taping which was to follow after dinner. As we merged onto the freeway, Joyce produced a small bottle of vodka from her purse and fortified herself as she really was a nervous wreck about what people would think about her weight, and if anyone would even remember work.

We made it through the main gate and advanced to valet parking, I took her arm and she held onto me like a life jacket as we made our way through the crowd of celebrities into the amazing makeshift set that looked like a nightclub in a Fred Astaire film, complete with cameras and cable lights everywhere. The white fur stole that Joyce chose to wear had one serious drawback and that was it shed. There was white hair all over my black jacket, and it was especially apparent on my arm, which steadied Joyce up the ramp into the studio.

As soon as we were shown to our table I made a dash for the men’s room for damage control. It was there I ran into the ever dapper Cesar Romero and Dana Andrews, who found my situation very funny and, to their credit, those two gave me the benefit of years of experience and with a brush and some hot water managed to remove the fur from my jacket. I knew Dana from the PBS documentary we did earlier that year and Cesar was always out socializing, a habit from a lifetime of being part of the Hollywood scene.
He remained until his death one of the nicest men in show business.

Now the well worn phrase “star- studded” took on new meaning for me that evening as I was, for one night only, part of the Hollywood you only read about in fan magazines or see on television during the Academy Awards. The caliber of celebrity that came out that night to honor Jack Lemmon was literally the crème de la crème of show business. The tables were all terraced in a circular fashion allowing the cameras to roam at will from one grouping to another. Joyce and I were seated with Jack’s son, Chris Lemmon (who was scheduled to play the piano), his date, Robert Picado (who had appeared with Lemmon in the Broadway production of TRIBUTE), and the great comic actor Jack Gilford and his wife.

There were at least 500 people in attendance that evening and nearly all of them were famous. Billy Wilder and his wife Audrey were seated with Lew Wasserman and his wife, and completing their table was Fred Mac Murray and his wife June. Cary Grant was seated with Blake Edwards and Julie Andrews. These random groupings of people you just never imagine being so close and real were all part of this fantastic night of honoring one of their own. In honoring Jack Lemmon their tributes were indeed heartfelt.

Whatever fears or anxiety Joyce Jameson may have had prior to our arrival were beautifully put to rest when the guest of honor himself came up to our table and said to Joyce “I wanted to take a moment and thank you so much for being part of this evening. You are without a doubt one of the finest comediennes in our business and it was my pleasure to work with you.” Joyce could not speak for the tears had welled up in her eyes and she barely could say thank you when Jack knelt down and kissed her cheek. It was so moving to watch and I thank God for what Jack Lemmon did for Joyce that night as it proved to her once and for all that she was who she was and more than worthy of praise from her peers.

As much as we might have wished the party would just go on forever, the evening finally came to a glamorous end with countless friends and colleagues approaching Joyce and making her feel like she must have felt twenty years ago out on the town with her beloved “Bobby Vaughn”. As we were driving home she kept wishing every night could be like this and how happy she was at that moment. It was a moment I keep close to my heart all these years later.

It took about a month for the glow to wear off from the TRIBUTE party and then Joyce was back to her old insecurities of not answering her phones and staying in that old house of hers for days on end. Her mother’s house was in a nice part of Los Angeles in a rather upscale neighborhood. Yet she had no gardener to keep the lawn up so it died and turned a bright yellow. She never used the front door and always exited from the back of the house through the kitchen, thus the junk mail would pile up on the front porch until it looked pretty much like a deserted house. I started having surreal dreams of Joyce as Miss Haversham in GREAT EXPECTATIONS, yet I could never dream a part for “Bobby Vaughn” thank god…

Joyce started the year 1986 off with few attempts to come by and say hello to me, and we kept in touch almost entirely by phone. She had been given a little toy poodle and lavished all her affection on it for awhile until one morning I got a call from Joyce who was almost hysterical with sobbing. It seems that during the night Joyce rolled over in bed and accidentally broke the poor little thing’s neck in her sleep. Joyce said she was going to quit eating altogether and her weight was just not acceptable anymore and she was no longer interested in work of any kind and that included voice-overs which had paid a lot of her bills in the past. Joyce Jameson was going into a shut down mode and there was very little I could do about it.

By the middle of 1986 Joyce quit calling me altogether and with Tyler miles away there was really no one left to check up on her. I would drive over to her house from time to time and ring the bell and walk around to the windows begging her to answer her phone, all to no avail.

Finally the inevitable happened. On January 16th, 1987, Joyce Jameson had suffered enough with the pain of living and took her own life using a stockpile of pills she saved up for this final curtain on a colorful life that had taken too many wrong turns on the road to happiness for such a fragile soul.

Among the things that were forgotten was a particular song her husband Billy Barnes wrote, which was first introduced by Joyce, ‘Have I stayed too long at the fair?” Streisand’s recording of this quickly overshadowed anyone else’s interpretation of it. When I first heard of Joyce Jameson’s death, the words to this song haunted me for days, as I could just hear Joyce singing the lyrics in that little girl voice of hers:

“I wanted the music to play on forever
Have I stayed too long at the fair?
I wanted the clown to be constantly witty
Have I stayed too long at the fair?
I bought me blue ribbons to tie up my hair
But I couldn’t find anybody to care
The merry-go round is beginning to slow now
Have I stayed to long at the fair?
Oh mother dear I know you’re very proud
Your little girl and kingdom is so far above the crowd
No daddy dear
You never could have known that I would be successful
yet so very much alone.
I wanted to live in a carnival city with laughter and love everywhere
I wanted my friends to be thrilling and witty,
I wanted somebody to love;
I found my blue ribbons all shiny and new,
But now I discover them no longer blue
The merry-go-round is beginning to taunt me
Have I stayed to long at the fair?
There’s nothing to win and I have
No one to want me,
Have I stayed to long at the fair?

Lyrics by Billy Barnes

HAPPY NEW YEAR
FROM ALL OF US HERE AT FILMS IN REVIEW

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