Singer Frankie Laine Is Gently Basted at Roast

If Police Chief Bill Kolender suggested to an audience of 350 prominent citizens that you had paid $1,000 to research your family tree and $2,000 to suppress the results, would you:

A.) Whistle “Dixie” and pretend to be somewhere else,

B.) Aim a swift left jab at the top cop’s schnoz or,

C.) Retaliate by commenting that, “As for Bill Kolender, anyone who can see him can’t say that crime doesn’t pay.”

Did you choose answer “C”? If so, you’ll find yourself in the select company of famous songster Frankie Laine, who adopted just such a wise course of action when rebutting the insults heaped upon him at the seventh annual Rolf Benirschke Roast, given Oct. 1 for the benefit of the San Diego Chapter of the National Foundation for Ileitis and Colitis.

As far as roasts go (and sometimes they go more than far enough), the insults hurled at this year’s shindig were gentler than most, perhaps because of the esteem which Laine, whose 21 gold records place him in the super-superstar category, is accorded in this city. This isn’t to say that the grill squad chanted like a group of choir boys (indeed, much of what they said could not be quoted in a family newspaper), but it is fair to say that Laine was more basted or poached than really roasted.

The gang got down to the nitty-gritty at a kind of new-and-improved Benirschke Roast called “Viva Las Vegas,” which was given at the Kona Kai Club for the delectation of a crowd that included some of the town’s most gleaming glitterati . The team that usually joins in planning this annual diversion (and includes San Diego Charger Benirschke, who suffered a nasty bout with colitis several years ago) decided that the routine roast format was becoming, well, overdone.

Thus this year’s game plan included two hours’ worth of casino games in advance of the formal, three-course dinner, as well as the roast.

The choice of Laine as roastee gave the party an extra bonus because he cheerfully obliged with a post-roast concert that included several of his major hits. The roster of songs began with “Rawhide” and continued with “That’s My Desire.”

As guests entered the party, they were handed tickets good for a chance at a list of door prizes. That’s not news, right? But some clever soul decided that the casino would more closely resemble the genuine Las Vegas article if it were glamorized by showgirls in spectacular, Ziegfeld Follies-like costumes, and, as things developed, it turned out that several men hopefully assumed a date with one of them to be among the evening’s top prizes. No such luck, of course, but the women (decked out in towering headdresses, feathers and not much else) added a certain zing to the moment that was even more exciting than the blackjack dealers’ cries of “Twenty-one!”

The dinner and roast took place in a room decorated, to pay a whimsical tribute to Lady Luck’s favorite toys, by committee member Dick Ford. The centerpieces were topped by pairs of giant dice (actually, white boxes painted with black dots), and bundles of folded playing cards cleverly stood in for flowers. Even the ashtrays and matchbooks were imported from Caesar’s Palace. Far from dining on roast, the guests instead nibbled at salad, chicken Cordon Bleu, and chocolate mousse served in fancy chocolate cases.

Master of ceremonies Jerry G. Bishop left most of the roasting chores to others, but he did get in one shot by mentioning that Laine was “so fat that his bathtub has stretch marks.” Radio man Don Howard said that Laine had “willed his body to science, and science was contesting the will.”

The St. Vincent de Paul Center’s Father Joe Carroll took a rather more complicated tack (the man had a Jesuit education, after all), in which he described having heard the singer’s confession in a dialogue composed of the titles of Laine’s many hits. Band leader Bob Crosby resolutely refused to roast, having announced that he had too much respect for the singer, and Kolender closed the show with a series of one-liners that brought the house down.

As mentioned earlier, Laine got in the last licks by the simple expedient of offering up a medley of his songs as his wife, Nan, sat beaming at the head table.

Chairman Susan Eres and co-chairman Cheryl Sillings put the evening together with help from a committee that included Tisha Swortwood (one of the event’s founders), Wenda Aldrich, Denise Capozzi, Krista Gates, Jamie Tucker, Darcy Cloud, Ann Spicer, Barbara Mandel, Madeline Javelet, Liz Smith, Laurie Black and Debbie Day.

Honorary chairman Joan Kroc was unable to attend--the party conflicted with the Padres’ last home game of the season--but she did send a tidy contribution in her place.

Among those attending were Kim and Marilyn Fletcher, Bill and Susan Rick, Alison and Jon Tibbitts, Ron and Patti Mix, Gordon and Karon Luce, Jim and Susan Laslavic, Eric and Diana Sievers, Annette Ford, Dottie and Patrick Haggerty, Ken and Dixie Unruh, Bob and Tommi Adelizzi, Larry and Junko Cushman, Jim and Dolly Poet, Rick and Susan Smith, Mel and Linda Katz, Bill DeLeeuw, and the gravel-voiced Ben Davidson, former pro football star and current spokesman for Miller Lite beer, which helped to underwrite the event. His presence may have inspired the guest who remarked that, compared to other roasts, this one had great taste, but was less filling.

A sizable crowd of homesick Midwesterners gathered last Thursday on the poolside terrace of the San Diego Hilton to toast both the leaves that are falling in their former hometowns and the Oct. 4 commencement of the Big Ten football schedule.

The second annual Back to the Big Ten party followed the format laid down last year by event founder and continuing chairman Don McVay, a Michigan State alumnus who invited any and all San Diego grads of the other Big Ten universities to set aside school rivalries and come frolic in the 11 bags of genuine autumn leaves his mother had air-expressed from the family farm in Hudson, Mich.

Guests were invited to dress as they did in college, which for many of the 400 or so in attendance meant letter jackets, and caps and sweat shirts flying the colors of such institutions as Northwestern University, the University of Iowa and Ohio State.

The fare ran to typical half-time grub, such as hot dogs, pretzels and cider, and the Patrick Henry High School Marching Patriots were on hand to play fight songs. The evening was capped by a pep rally held around a genuine set of goal posts (decorated with such Midwestern talismans as scarecrows and sheaves of dried cornstalks), and Nature contributed to the mood by sending an appropriately chill wind whistling off neighboring Mission Bay.

The committee was composed of graduates of the various Big Ten schools, including Jim Anderson, Jane Stein, Bob Ottilie, Jack Dostal, Martin McGuinn, Al Schein, Rick Roeder, Rosemary Chang, Michael Kissane, Rich Richley, Joe Gasperetti, Michael Barnes and William Engelbrecht.

The San Diego Jewish Academy benefited from a gala showing of the works of Israeli artist Calman Shemi, given the other day at Old Town’s Circle Gallery.

About 300 guests, including the artist and Israeli Consul Ilan Elgar, turned out for the exhibition of “soft” paintings and works on paper; it proved to be rather a long day for Shemi, who spent the first part of it at the school working with the children. Leslie and Shlomo Caspi chaired the event, and Mayor Maureen O’Connor, who served as honorary chairman, declared the day “Shemi Day” in San Diego.

The guest list included Larry Lawrence, Barbara Cox, Jack and Carolyn Solomon, Andrew and Erna Viterbi, Jose Tasende, Josh and Pam Gruber, Michael and Susan Schwarz, Charles and Leslie Tiano, Raymond and Marilyn Padowitz, Ed and Fran Mendelsohn, and Rabbi Martin Lawson with his wife, Anita.