Feb. 26, 1958
After a hard day at the office, two fellows named Bob and Mike like to
drop into a Hill Street dive for a cooling draught, to brood, to
contemplate the infinite or merely to read THE evening paper, which
they prop up conveniently against the beer taps.
But several times lately they’ve found their favorite stools occupied
by sturdy customers who, they instantly decided, it would be unwise to
try to evict.
So Bob, who has access to such things, had two place cards printed stating these stools were reserved in their names.
Johnny, Luigi and Ray have cooperated in this little enthusiasm. When
Bob and Mike enter, they roust the peasantry from these reserved
However, the genial prop. of the joint, Uncle Abe, has confided that
while he is not averse to their project, he has a certain apprehension
about the implications. Of course, he puts it another way.
He points out that his trade represents a specialized economic niche in
Hill Street cafe society and he doesn’t want the customers to get the
idea that the Rainbow has become a kind of Romanoff’s Downtown.
Next thing, he fears, the unshaven horde to which he caters may demand vintage muscatel.
For the moment, however, Bob and Mike are sitting pretty.
ONE OF THE delights
of bored Civic Center workers is encountering young couples who get
lost while seeking the marriage license bureau in the Hall of Records.
They are uniformly shy and embarrassed.
One such bewildered couple came into an office in City Hall, the wrong
building, and a girl employee heard the bride-to-be whisper to the
young man, "Go ahead, ask her."
He came up to the counter and said, "That girl behind me wants to know where to get a marriage license."
FOR RESOLUTE action
in the face of adversity, the Henpecked Husbands Society, an
underground organization, has nominated an Irwindale man for president.
This man’s phone bill for December and January totaled $94, the result of his wife’s chit-chatting with old friends back East.
Did he sigh and pay up? Did he start a futile argument? No. He firmly
ordered the phone yanked out. That was three weeks ago and it’s still
out. A fanfare, please.
SEMANTIC NOTE — Dr.
H.W. Magoun, anatomy prof at UCLA Medical School, has received a
distinguished achievement award from the journal Modern Medicine,
states a press release, "for studies in neurological science leading to
the appreciation of the clinical importance of basic advances."
And this, obviously, is not something that happens every day.
ONLY IN BEL-AIR — A
householder asked his neighbor if he could park his 1958 Cadillac in
the neighbor’s garage for a while. A landscape man was coming over to
give an estimate on some work, he explained, and he didn’t want the
fellow to think he was "that rich."
MISCELLANY — Every
time Don Messick passes the sign on Riverside Drive between Glendale
and Burbank stating "Litter Laws Strictly Enforced" he gets the feeling
it has something to do with restricting the dog population … Vivian,
7, a second-grader, came home from school and proudly advised her
father she’d learned all about the "terrified" forest … Post-flood
meditation by Bill Eberline: A fortune awaits the person who devises
cork hubcaps for small foreign cars–to ride out the deep water. With
oars, of course … An exhibitor at the Hi-Fi Show at the Biltmore
defines a dedicated audio fan as one who insists on reproduction of low
notes he can’t hear but only feels and of high notes he can’t hear but
only hopes are there.