Flint's Faulty Fountain

This
corner has been nagged persistently the last few months by Mal Deans to
do something about a civic disgrace — the stilled fountain memorial to
Frank Putnam Flint (1862-1929) on the 1st Street grounds of City Hall.

Deans
considers it a monumental irony that this beautiful fountain, erected
to the memory of a man who was vitally helpful in bringing Owens River
water to L.A., has been dry for the last few years. Not only that, it
has become a repository for old wine bottles, orange peels and
discarded clothing.

"What was once a gleaming jewel in the
middle of the City Hall lawn has become an arid eyesore," is the way
Deans, who is part poet, puts it.

THE OTHER DAY he handed
down an ultimatum. Unless some action was taken forthwith he would form
a Committee to Put Water Back in the Frank Putnam Flint Memorial
Birdbath.

Goaded by this threat, I have done some checking with
city custodians and building people. The reason the fountain doesn't
work, they said bluntly, is that the plumbing is on the blink.

You
see, there's this lead pipe cast in concrete that goes up through the
marble. Well, it has apparently deteriorated. Furthermore, the drain
seems to have broken away from the pump. There's also the ugly
possibility that thefranifran has crostulated with the scrumsk . So
when the men start filling the fountain the water seeps out through the
marble and runs off, creating puddles and consternation.

TO FIX the
darn thing, workmen would have to break into the marble and tear down
the whole shebang and replace the pipe and put in a new drain and
overhaul the pump.

All this would involve considerable expense
and, in the event you haven't heard, austerity is the watchword around
the City Hall these tax-hungry days.

Another thing, winos used
to gather around the fountain on balmy nights and toast good old Sen.
Flint for his statesmanship in bringing water to L.A. One night a wino
became so exuberant he fell in and drowned.

::

A RATHER
classic tableau, even for Hollywood Freeway, is reported by Jim Cohen
of Revue Productions. A Cadillac was pulled over to the side and an
officer was composing a valentine. Meanwhile the driver, a statuesque
blond, was taking advantage of the hiatus to walk her Pomeranian along
the freeway shoulder.

::

A MAN WHO once had considerable political influence in L.A. was dining in a Las Vegas spa when the waiter brought a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.

"Compliments of the gentleman over there," the waiter said, pointing to a tall, dark man about four tables away.

Failing to recognize him, the man from L.A. walked over to thank him.

"You don't remember me"" the stranger smiled.

The man from L.A. shook his head.

"I'm Guy McAfee," the tall man said, "I used to run gambling in L.A. until you and some others drove me out."

"Why then the champagne?"

"You did me a favor," McAfee laughed. "Things have been pretty good for me here and I feel obligated."

::

YOU KNOW HOW it is when something doesn't fit in place and you keep wondering about it?

Well, while east for "The Young Philadelphians" premiere, publicist Bill Latham was driving from New York to Philly on the New Jersey Turnpike and stopped at the Howard Johnson restaurant at turnoff No. 9.

In
the men's room he noticed the usual vending machines for combs,
handkerchiefs and nail files but one other offering Mexican jumping
beans, about half a dozen in assorted colors, for 25 cents.

It bugs him.

::

AROUND TOWN — While inquiring why the assessed valuation on a vacant lot had been tripled, Milt Janes couldn't help noticing that some of the office's folding chairs stenciled "Tax Assessor" had been revised to "Tax A$$essor"
… Chicken and egg men are moaning low and some are going out of
business. The market is shot … When the air raid sirens sounded their
monthly test Friday at 10 a.m. Les Wagner, who has covered civil
defense for many years, sighed, "Ah they're playing my song!"