This is a fascinating look at a world that's probably foreign to those who're born-and-bred westerners - high-society soirees, Ivy League prep schools, living in palatial mansions where there are servants at your beck and call.
Peter Duchin, from the day he was born, straddled a fine line between silver-spoon wealth and common everyday folks. Sometimes he was the invited guest at sophisticated parties - and other times he was the bandleader-for-hire, coming in through the workers' entrance instead of being part of the grand parade through the front door.His vignette-filled memoirs offer fleeting, intriguing glimpses of a celebrity-studded life.
The glamorous romance and tragic marriage of his parents - famed pianist/bandleader Eddy Duchin and beautiful Marjorie Oelrichs - was glossed over in Columbia Pictures' popular Tyrone Power/Kim Novak 1956 tearjerker, "The Eddy Duchin Story."
Peter, who eventually became a top society orchestra bandleader and pianist in his own right (albeit reluctantly at first), would've provided considerable fodder for therapists. His socially prominent mother died six days after his birth on July 28, 1937, in a private New York hospital (sadly ill-equipped for maternity care).
But instead of a whining brat spending all of his time getting in touch with his inner self, Peter Duchin turned out remarkably normal.
Following his wife's death, Eddy Duchin spent the next few years with his famous band on the road, putting as much emotional distance as he could between himself and his son (who was seen as a reminder of Marjorie's death). Peter, in the meantime, took up residence with some old family friends - the politically and socially prominent Harriman's - Averell and Marie. Allowed into their inner circle, Peter came to know them as "Ave" and "Ma."
The fascinating stories in "Ghost of a Chance" shift back and forth between Peter Duchin's two worlds - the glitzy, showbiz friends and acquaintances of his father, and the powerful movers and shakers in the Harriman camp.
But this is no mere name-dropping book (although there are certainly an ample number of well-known celebs here - enough to warrant an 18-page index at the end). There's no pretense or elitism, either. It's a look at how a young lad grew up surrounded by famous people - from A to Z . . . from Louie Armstrong and Fred Astaire to Hollywood film mogul Darryl Zanuck.
Duchin covers a lot of territory: scrambling around the woods of Harrimans' Arden estate, vacations at Sun Valley, invitations to cruise on Ari and Jackie Onassis' yacht, longtime friendships forged in the hallways of East Coast prep schools, bumming around one summer in France.
This is a mesmerizing look at life in an upper echelon of American society . . . a place where the social pecking order is of utmost importance to some people.
The book is mostly laid back - kind of like the guy Peter Duchin has become.
There are also some zingers. Like the widowed Averell Harriman being lassoed and hog-tied by one of society's most notorious fortune-hunters, while his family was left in the lurch. The story surrounding Harriman's burial has a stunning climax.
As a young man, Peter Duchin was miffed by the superficial treatment Hollywood gave his parents' story. But longtime family friend Toots Shor, who accompanied him to a private screening, put the big-screen version in perspective. For dramatic effect, the movie version had Peter being born on a snowy, December day, when he was actually born July 28. "It's all a load of crap," Toots told Petey on their way out of the screening room.
The movie may have been a load of crap - but "Ghost of a Chance" certainly isn't.
One nice touch is the way the dozens of photographs were handled. Instead of clumping them together as glossy inserts, they're scattered throughout the book - usually on the page directly opposite where Duchin is telling about the people or incidents in the photograph.
Readers won't feel short-changed at all by Peter Duchin's heartfelt memoirs.
If I could wrestle them away from my 83-year-old mother, I wouldn't mind reading this again - while playing her beloved (and highly protected) stack of Peter Duchin's LPs on the stereo.
For myself, I tapped right into the few paragraphs about Peter's trips to Sun Valley. I grew up in Twin Falls, a city considered to be the gateway to the legendary resort. During our occasional family trips to Redfish Lake in the Stanley Basin area, we sometimes take a side trip through Sun Valley.
I also learned something new in this book.
I had always assumed - just as most Sun Valley visitors probably do - that the Duchin Room was named after Peter's father, Eddy. This book corrects that error. The lounge was really named after his mother.