From Rusty to Blue

My real name is Na#&@ G*!#8man. Oops... major typo, I'll fix it later. But the rascals, er, children, next door called me Rusty on account of my hair. "Warren" came from an avenue in Milton, Mass, where I grew up and up and up.

I studied voice and piano from the tenderized age of 6. Back in 19#@ the New England Conservatory of Music gave me a B.A. — Bawdy Arts degree. Summer vacations found me playing piano at clubs and hotels. I could talk a blue streak. Well, it didn't start out blue. I was too young to drink, but honey, I could sing and play and joke and flirt. A nightclub act began to hatch in my fertile (some would say "filthy") mind.

From Conservatory to Controversy

Years later the Pomp Room in Phoenix scheduled me for a standard run. It lasted 8 months because of the 108,112 curtain calls. From gigs at piano bars and nightclubs came my first comedy album, "Songs for Sinners." Since there were lots of sinners to sing to, I was in business. My shows gave preachers lots of material for Sunday sermons. Mother of the Sexual Revolution, yesssss!

Ideas for my "Knockers Up!" album came from ad libs at a club in Ft. Liquordale, Florida. When I put Knockers on the map, Mother was apoplectic, which means "popular at bridge games." For years she'd tell anyone who would listen, "I know what she's saying, but where in God's name did she learn it all?" Mom was a great gal. She lived till 95 and loved taking her bows at all my Las Vegas appearances.