‘Ham ‘n’ Eggs!’ : L.A. Breakfast Club, 62 Years Old, Finds Today’s Businessmen Too Busy, Attracts Mostly Retirees

Early every Wednesday morning, as he has for nearly two decades, 84-year-old Paul Keim greets arrivals at the Los Angeles Breakfast Club: “Hello, Ham!”

“Hello, Egg!” each replies.

The ritual hasn’t changed since 1924, when the club was founded by merchant Maurice DeMond and included many of the city’s film, business, professional and social figures who enjoyed breakfast together after horseback riding in Griffith Park.

Inside the Breakfast Club at 3201 Riverside Drive, 52-year-old attorney Nida Brown, the first woman president in the club’s history, raps the gavel, and the breakfasters shout out the letters printed on a large board held up by two members onstage:

FVNEM?

SVFM.

FVNEX?

SVFX.

OICVFMNX!

Translation: “Have we any ham? Yes, we have ham. Have we any eggs? Yes, we have eggs. Oh, I see. We have ham and eggs.”

The shibboleth was dreamed up by member Ralph Springer, an artist at the old Evening Herald, in 1925.

Next, the members sing the Los Angeles Breakfast Club “Ham ‘n’ Eggs” song:

I like mine fried good and brown.

I like mine fried upside down.

Ham ‘n’ eggs.

Flip ‘em, flop ‘em, flap ‘em.

Ham ‘n’ eggs.

During the singing, members beat their knives, forks or spoons against water glasses and coffee cups, prompting a first-time visitor to reflect on the fact that famous men have taken part in such diversion.

Movie producers Jack Warner and Darryl F. Zanuck were original members. Edgar Rice Burroughs, creator of Tarzan, was the club’s first secretary in 1924. Louis B. Mayer and Cecil B. DeMille belonged. Rufus B. von Kleinsmid was an early president of the club, as well as USC.

Guy Lombardo and his orchestra were once hired to entertain at breakfast. Rudy Vallee sang before the group. So did opera star Ernestine Schumann-Heink.

The Breakfast Club is a throwback to an era when businessmen and civic leaders had time to spend a couple of hours every Wednesday joking over breakfast with men they probably did not see the rest of the week.

For several years, the membership was well over 1,000, including film stars, political leaders and businessmen. Today, it’s a different crowd. There are 210 members. The average age is about 70.

“We would love to have younger members as we did in the past,” says Don LaGrange, the 75-year-old program chairman. “But businessmen today are too busy, glued to their desks. So we attract mostly retired people.”

Why belong? “It’s like the motto over our door says,” in the view of greeter Keim. “ ‘The Shrine of Friendship.’ That’s what this club is all about.”

John Fucciolo, 79, a member since 1951, says: “I love it. It’s exciting. Look at all the people here. We all know one another. We look forward to every Wednesday. We always have a good program and you can’t beat the fun.”

Frank Konyi, 78, has been the Los Angeles Breakfast Club piano player since 1932 and can count on his fingers the number of Wednesdays he has missed. “I play the same old songs every week,” he says. “Songs like ‘There’s a Long, Long Trail A-Winding’ and ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart.’ ”

But if the songs haven’t changed, other things have. Once a men-only club, the organization began admitting women in 1978 because it was then headquartered on public property.

In 1960, it sold its building on Los Feliz Boulevard and constructed a new one-story stucco clubhouse on city land, presenting it to the city with the right to lease it back for 25 years (with a 25-year extension) at $1 a year.

Also, the initiation fee has dropped from $500 to $50. Single members pay $21 a month, and couples pay $25 for the chance to visit with friends every Wednesday morning, hear speakers, sing the “Ham ‘n’ Eggs” song and heckle those speakers as well as entertainers and club officers.

The club’s members have rarely taken themselves or their guests seriously. Calvin Coolidge was a guest while he was President. He was shaking hands with members without cracking a smile. Then famed comedian Will Rogers won a $100 bet with another member by breaking Coolidge up.

“I’m sorry,” Rogers said as he gripped the President’s hand. “I didn’t get your name.”