Ex-Clown Still Has a Knack for Playing the Fool for Love

Time was of the essence, and not just because Frank Darlow is 74 years old.

No, the former clown and mortuary employee somehow got himself roped into playing a senior-citizen version of TV’s “The Bachelor” on the day before Valentine’s Day and, according to the rules of the game, he had only three minutes to chat with each of 11 women -- one wearing a large orange hat.

Then he had to give one of them a rose.

The object of it all: Well, that’s a little hard to say. Whatever message there might have been about love in later life sort of got lost in the silliness of the moment.

Even Darlow himself wasn’t quite sure what he was doing -- except that he wasn’t looking for true love. “I didn’t even know what was going on till I got here,” he said, a few minutes before things began. “I just came to see what was going on.”

The idea, brewed by a Long Beach public relations firm, was to have some fun with love for the senior set and, not incidentally, stir publicity for its client, Maggiano’s Little Italy restaurant in Costa Mesa, where things unfolded.

The original idea was to have many men mingle with many women and create some love connections. But when 11 women signed up, and only poor Frank Darlow, who has been married and divorced three times, the sponsors went to Plan B.

Unfazed, Darlow played along, trotting out some material from his clowning days. “Marriage is a great institution, and love is blind,” he said before the competition. “People who get married should live in institutions for the blind.” Then he laughed, and he was off and running with the ladies, who took turns chatting with him.

With a nod to the restaurant, one woman asked Darlow if he was Italian. “No, Polish,” he said.

Darlow told another he was a frustrated chef. “In the middle of the night if I can’t sleep, I put on a chef’s hat, put on some soft music, pour a toddy for the body and make cookies,” he said.

When the woman didn’t blanch, he did an old clowning gag in which he acted like his white hair was a toupee. The woman chuckled but said she liked bald men too.

The women played their parts beautifully. They seemed to like Darlow’s comic material and, for the most part, didn’t try too hard. “I’ve never been so happy in my life to lose,” said one afterward. “I just came for the gift certificate” -- $25 for each contestant.

When decision time came, Darlow wavered. They were all nice, he said, but he didn’t see a potential valentine in the group. He asked the restaurant’s P.R. man to pick one for him. When he demurred, Darlow chose the lady in the orange hat.

“She said she’d like to see me again, so maybe she’s the one,” Darlow said.

Afterward, 70-year-old winner Donna O’Keefe was looking forward to lunch with Frank but had no great expectations. I asked if it was important that she won. “Of course,” she said. “I’m very competitive.”

As for the orange hat, which topped an orange dress, she said: “I’m very dramatic. I like big, bold, dramatic jewelry and bright colors. I’m a dancer, and I definitely don’t want to fade into the woodwork.”

And Darlow’s post-mortem? “My decision to choose her was not on an individual basis. It was more of a spinning-wheel type of thing. I put my finger on it, and she popped up.”

Wouldn’t that look great on a Valentine’s card?

I congratulated Darlow on being game and asked if the whole thing had made him uncomfortable.

“I had a lot of pain medications in me,” he said, “so I was comfortable.”

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.