When I was with Jane, I forgot everything else, which is why my first marriage-I was a son of a bitch in that first marriage-stood no chance. I had been knocked down, thrown over. I was dazzled. It was like I had gone from black-and-white to Cinemascope.

Jane divorced her husband, I divorced my wife. It was just me and her after that. She took me everywhere and introduced me to everyone. Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Johnny Carson, Walter Winchell. She had been Miss Dodger. She had been Miss Ebbets Field. Every man in the world wanted to be with her. Howard Hughes and Billy Rose sent gifts, jewelry, flowers, and I signed the ticket. She was an absolute knockout. When we went to a restaurant, we were the restaurant. Or she was the restaurant. I was Mr. Morgan. Which was fine with me. In fact, I took advantage of it. It did wonders for my career. Now, when I came to LA, I did not sit waiting in a bungalow for five days. Joe Pasternak, Arthur Freed, all the great producers, directors, and writers suddenly wanted to meet with me. Jane was the queen. She wore white gloves. I was her manager.

I suppose I'm describing how I built my network, which is a key to my success. A lot depends on who you know, who you can get to. If you have people who will open the door for you, literally and figuratively, you can make a pitch. It's in your hands from there. Soon after I arrived in Hollywood, for example, I struck up a friendship with a guy named Scotty, who worked the gate at the MGM lot. For me, Scotty was more important than Louis B. Mayer. Mr. Mayer might green-light a picture, but you can't get the green light if you can't make the pitch and you can't make the pitch if you can't get in the gate.

One night, in 1965, I turned to Jane, who was getting dolled up for a show at the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas, and said, "You know, baby, you look so goddamned beautiful, let's get married!"

She said, "You don't look so terrible yourself."

We walked over to the Chapel of the Bells, one of those neon marriage joints on the strip. The town was chiming all around us. The moon was low in the desert, where the mob dumps its bodies and the lizards dream of mice. I took her hand. She took my arm. We were grinning like mad. Before the vows, the chaplain said, "For an extra fifteen bucks, you can have organ music."

I said, "Yeah, just give us what you got and do it fast. The lady has a show."

We spent summers in Kennebunkport, Maine, and eventually bought a house of our own. It's gorgeous up there, but there was never much for me to do. I get bored. I was a fish out of water, a Bronx Jew trapped in the sticks. One afternoon, when I was young and the sun shone down on my every adventure, I went to the local Kennebunkport club to play tennis. I had never been to this club. The courts were empty. I went to the woman behind the desk, gave my name, and asked for a court. She said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Weintraub, we have no courts."

I was confused. "But the place is empty," I told her.

"Perhaps you should try a different club," she said.

The reality of the situation slowly dawned on me. It was like the scene in Gentlemen's Agreement when Gregory Peck tries to check into a hotel as Phil Greenberg. I am sorry, Mr. Greenberg. We have no rooms.

I am sorry Mr. Weintraub. We have no courts.

WHINE-traub!

If you a Jew, where your horns?

I would like to say I raised a ruckus, tore the place up, stood there saying no, no, no, as Gregory Peck did in the movie. But the fact is, I just dropped my head and went home. Sometimes, the polite "No" registers more powerfully than even the blow to the face. The blow to the face you know how to respond to: with a blow to the face! But the polite "No," how do you respond to that? I was pissed off, angry, humiliated. I told Jane. She was really upset. She said, "No, it can't be."

Later, without my knowing, Jane told the story to an old Kennebunkport friend. This was George H. W. Bush, before politics or any of that. He was a businessman, his father was a senator. He called me later that same day. He said, "Hi, I'm George Bush, I'm a friend of Jane's, and I heard you like to play tennis."

I said, "Yeah, I like to play tennis."

He said, "Well, do you want to play in the morning at the club with my dad and my brother and myself?"

I said, "They don't want me at the club. I went over today, and they told me no Jews allowed."

"That's ridiculous," said Bush. "You want to play tomorrow morning, you can play with us."

So I went there to play with George Bush, his father, Senator Bush, and his brother. As we were leaving, Senator Bush asked me if I would like to be a member of the tennis club.

I said, "Yeah, I'd love to be a member."

He said, "Fine, we'll make you a member. George," he said, "go in and tell them I'm proposing Jerry for membership. If there's any problem, let me know." I became a member of the tennis club. Then they did the same thing at the yacht club and the golf club. So that was the end of the Jewish thing.

That's how I met George Bush. I loved him from the first moment. He would become one of my best friends. He was very young at that time, not yet in politics, just a businessman making his way. But as soon as you spoke to him, you knew he was going the distance. We grew up together, in our way, pushed each other, advised and helped each other. People in Hollywood were sometimes suspicious of this relationship, and did not understand it. I was, and still am, said to be one of the few Republicans in Hollywood. It was a headline. But I am not a Republican. I am an Independent, liberal on social issues, conservative on fiscal matters. I just happen to have a good friend named George Bush. And, as I explained, nothing is more important than a relationship. It trumps politics, party, club. People are what matter. In short, I'm for the man, and I've never met a better one than George Bush.

I feel I really must stop here and explain just how important George Bush has been in my life. He opened the world to me, took me everywhere and showed me everything. I love the man as you love a father or a brother, and appreciate everything he has done for me, and does for me still, which, most of all, is the gift of his friendship. Had I not met George and Barbara, my life would have been totally different. He changed the scope of everything. I was put into a world I never could have experienced in a million years. To be a close friend of the president of the United States is an awesome, awesome position. You have to know how to handle it. You can't go to him with nonsense and silly things. I never did. I went to him with some very important things, and he helped because he felt they were right. But I didn't bother him on a day-to-day basis. And yet we had an open relationship where I could tell him when I thought he was right and when I thought he was wrong. Very few people have that access to the most powerful man in the world. I stayed in the White House a lot. I stayed in the Lincoln Bedroom and the Queen's Bedroom. It was inspiring, for a kid from the Bronx, to be befriended by the president, and for him to open this oyster for me and have me at state dinners, to have me there when Gorbachev came and other world leaders came, introducing me to them, and to be very close to his whole cabinet… to Jim Baker, secretary of state, to Nick Brady, secretary of the treasury, to Bob Mosbacher, secretary of commerce, to John Sununu, his chief of staff, etc., etc. Bush made sure I was in the center of his universe. He opened me up to a network of people around the world. Everybody knew we were close. Everybody knew that I was embraced by this man. He made it very public; he didn't hide it. And he was very supportive when I had troubles. He was a great friend.

One night, years ago, when Bush was a congressman, we went for a walk in Washington, D.C., after the Alfalfa dinner. We passed the White House, which was all lit up, and I said, "I think you're going to live in that house someday."