HAPPY 100TH BIRTHDAY, BOB! A GUY, A GIRL AND A LIFETIME OF 'PAPER MOONS'.

Byline: DENNIS McCARTHY 

When all the birthday celebrations are over, and the guests have gone home, it will be just the two of them sharing their favorite song tonight, just like old times.

The former girl singer, Dolores Reade, singing ``It's Only A Paper Moon'' to her husband on his 100th birthday - the former Leslie Townes Hope, who changed his name to Bob as a young man because it sounded a little chummier.

``I sing it to him all the time,'' Dolores said Wednesday. ``It's a beautiful way to put him to sleep at night.

``We've been so fortunate, Bob and I. God put us together and it worked.''

They were a couple of talented vaudevillians who met and fell in love in a New York nightclub in 1933, married in '34, and went on to share a life in the front row of history.

The Hopes of Toluca Lake, Palm Springs, the world. Dolores celebrated her 94th birthday Tuesday. Bob turns a century young today.

Turns it with his legacy as America's most beloved goodwill ambassador etched into the country's heart forever because no one did what Bob Hope did - not even presidents.

He made some of the toughest audiences in the world laugh and forget reality for a few hours on some of the most serious, deadly stages of the 20th century.

From World War II to his last USO show, Operation Desert Shield in '91 - where the only woman allowed to accompany him on stage in Saudi Arabia was the girl singer he fell hard for back in '33 at the old Vogue Club in New York City, the one singing ``It's Only A Paper Moon.''

``Because of Muslim customs, Mom was the only female performer allowed when Dad went to Saudi Arabia at 87 on his last trip to entertain the troops,'' says Linda Hope, one of the Hope's four children.

``They were putting on a show in the middle of the desert, and Mom was singing 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas' for the men. She looked down at those young faces and asked the Marines where they were from.

``They were stationed in Twentynine Palms near our home in Palm Springs, so Mom invited them all to come see her and Dad when they got back to the states,'' said Linda, who produced her father's TV specials for 25 years, and recently edited a new book on her dad, ``Bob Hope, My Life In Jokes.''

``The next year, on Easter Sunday, my parents threw a big celebration at their home for 300 Marines, their wives and children.''

That's the kind of family she was raised in, Linda says. Bigger than life. A family where often it was Mom who was funnier than Dad trading one-liners around the dinner table about their passion - golf.

``The first date Bob and I ever had, we ruined the tablecloth at the restaurant,'' Dolores said, laughing. ``We were writing out our favorite golf holes on the table cloth. Golf and dogs, they were our passion.''

They were also a family that could never go out in public without strangers coming up to her father to thank him and shake his hand, Linda said.

``I didn't realize until I was 9 or 10, and in grammar school at St. Charles Parish School (in North Hollywood) that my dad was someone so special,'' she said. ``Until then, he was just a dad.

``In some ways, I was resentful because my brother Tony and I wanted his attention when he was at home. We used to wish people would just leave him alone.

``One day, I asked dad why he let people bother him all the time when it was taking away from time he could spend with us. Dad said, when they don't come up and say something, then you worry. These people are responsible for everything we have, he said.

``The same thing I found annoying as a kid, I've found unbelievable as an adult. In a world where stars don't give autographs, and have big bodyguards to keep the public away, Dad was always so accessible.

``He knew that a handshake or a few words created a special moment for the person on the other side they would never forget,'' she said.

At home, Bob Hope never had to relax because he was never tense, Linda said.

``He was a man absolutely energized by laughter and making everybody around him laugh. It was his passion. He was always relaxed, looking to play a round of golf with Mom when he was home.

``We'd all spend Sunday over at Lakeside Country Club golfing. If Dad hit a bad shot, he didn't yell or get mad. He laughed, and took a mulligan (an extra shot that doesn't count against your score). Some holes he'd take three or four mulligans.

``He was such a neat father. When we were really small, he created a special character for us, Bessie. He'd go to the curtain (at home) and turn his back to us kids, doing a falsetto voice that was suppose to be Bessie stopping by to say hello to us.

``It was wonderful, enchanting,'' she said. ``We were so blessed.''

It will be a small family gathering tonight for Bob's 100th birthday, Dolores says.

Besides Linda, her three other adopted children - Tony, a Washington, D.C., lawyer; Kelly, a professional photographer; and Nora, a housewife in Northern California - are flying in with their families.

A few close friends will be there, too. But only a few.

``I'd like to thank everyone for the love, warmth and attention they're giving to Bob's 100th birthday,'' Dolores says, asking me to pass it on.

With her dad's eyesight failing, and not in good enough health to get out much anymore, one of his favorite things is listening to old recordings, Linda says.

``He loves it when Mom sings to him, or we put on old recordings of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Rosemary Clooney and Mom.

``His face lights up, and sometimes he sings along,'' she said.

Just as her husband gave laughter and comfort to the country when it desperately needed both, Dolores knows that tonight when she sings to Bob and gives him a kiss good night, it will be a birthday kiss from all of us.

Because long ago, the young girl singer knew she was going to have to share the funny young comedian she married with the rest of the country because he had a very important job to do.

He had to travel the battlefields of the 20th century making the toughest audience in the world laugh and forget reality for a few hours.

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Bob Hope, with wife Dolores, smiles at his 90th birthday bash at KNBC studios in Burbank in April 1993.

David Sprague/Staff Photographer

(2) Miranda Hope, right, cuts into her grandfather's 100th birthday cake at a pre-birthday party celebration Wednesday. From left are Shirley Duenckel, president of the Toluca Lake Chamber of Commerce, and Linda and Tony Hope, two of Bob Hope's children.

Charlotte Schmid-Maybach/Staff Photographer