Q&A: Poetry in Motion

Lisa Ferguson

Sunday, April 16, 2000 | 10:36 a.m.

Is it possible that Robert Frost, while writing his classic poem "The Road Not Taken," was thinking about Norman Kaye?

Probably not.

In any case, the prose suits Kaye, who has traveled down some pretty unusual paths -- career paths, that is -- before, while and since being named Nevada's poet laureate in the late '60s.

He's been a lounge singer, a real estate mogul, a carpet salesman and a casino owner. And there have been a host of other projects nestled between those.

Kaye, who has lived in Las Vegas for 52 years, was one-third of the Mary Kaye Trio, a fixture in local hotel-casino lounges starting in the 1950s. The group is considered among the innovators of Las Vegas' lounge sound.

The Mary Kaye Trio, named for Norman's sister, performed decades ago at the Last Frontier, Sahara and Tropicana, among others, and enjoyed commercial success with the single "You Can't Be True Dear."

The group shared stages in London with Ethel Merman and in Sydney, Australia, with Nat "King" Cole.

"We had attained stardom in a sense," Kaye says. "Our records were all over the world."

He also saw some solo success in the late '50s with the soft rock singles "Blue Jean Betty" and "Tell Me Why." (" 'Tell me why / why I try to forget / tell me why / 'cause I'm all wet,' or something like that," he recalls, chuckling.)

Also in the late 1950s he kicked off his real estate career when he purchased some land in Silver Springs at the bargain-basement price of $100 per parcel. He went on to open a real estate company, which he claims at one time was the largest in the state with 124 sales representatives.

For a while he ran Norman Kaye's Carpet Co. "I sold a lot of great carpet," he says.

In 1967 Kaye was appointed poet laureate by his friend, former Gov. Grant Sawyer.

But Kaye was better known as a songwriter than a poet. He penned tunes for the March of Dimes Foundation ("Throw a Dime My Way") and for the children's charity Variety Club ("Have a Heart, Lend a Hand").

"What are songs with words? Poems to music," he rationalizes. Kaye went on to write a book of songs about Nevada (aptly titled "The Nevada Song Book").

In 1989 he purchased the trouble-plagued Cattle Baron casino in Henderson (now the Joker's Wild). "I made a few dollars there," he says.

"I've been busy earning a living," he explains of the journeys he's made in his lifetime.

And for Kaye, "... that has made all the difference."

Still active in the real estate business, with his Norman K Real Estate company, the 77-year-old claims that he's working on a project (which he's not at liberty to discuss) with a "major hotel."

"I've been offered a lot of things in my life," he says. "A lot of people thought I could do a lot of things. I liked real estate."

In honor of National Poetry Month, the Sun chatted with the state's official bard.

Las Vegas Sun: What did being named poet laureate mean to you?

Norman Kaye: Well, it seemed to verify the fact that I was educated well (laughs), and it was quite an honor. I never thought of it, I never asked for it. I don't remember asking Grant (Sawyer) for it. I'm sure I didn't.

Sun: What do you think of the state of poetry today?

NK: It's a wonderful art form, I think. I don't know of any poets running amok, do you? You've got to earn a living first.

Sun: Who are your favorite poets?

NK: I have no favorite poets.

Sun: Do you have a favorite poem?

NF: The one I always allude to, that's my Mother's Day poem.

I don't know, poetry is poetry is poetry. What people do, I'm all for. Show me one or two guys who make their living out of (writing poetry) -- they didn't inherit any money or didn't do anything besides (write) poetry -- that's a guy who has my utmost respect.

Sun: What prompted you to write your Mother's Day poem?

NK: It's called "We Are One."

"My sorrow is yours, my happiness is yours

The ordeals of my life you suffer through with me

For we are one, dear mother

And we'll always be one. ..."

Sun: Tell me a little about your mother.

NK: My mother was 20 years older than my father.

Sun: What kind of a mother was she?

NK: Well, she died when I was 5.

Sun: Is there much call for a poet laureate these days?

NK: Every now and then (people) call me. They've called me from New York at times (and asked), "I understand you're the poet laureate. How do you feel?" I say, "I feel all right."

Sun: Do you take part in any official state functions?

NF: I'm not obligated to write (for) official functions. The governor doesn't ask me, so I don't.

Sun: Do you have much time to write these days?

NK: Yeah, I wrote something the other day that was fairly good. I've become inventive, I think. The other day, my wife said, "That's not about me. Who are you writing about?" It was something that I liked and I wrote (about) it.