Confidential File

Bounty on Adjectives Viewed With Alarm

It is my studied opinion that Fidel Castro has flipped.

Not irreparably, I hope.

A
few weeks of intensive psychotherapy, or perhaps just a good fatherly
talking to by a more mature man he can trust — like Errol Flynn —
might bring him around.

At present, however, he has taken one giant step beyond the borders of reality.

According
to an Associated Press dispatch, Fidel and his revolutionary government
are drafting a new tax schedule which, among other things, will slap a
levy on newspapers of $1 for each adjective used in the society columns.

There is a mark of paranoia in a move like that.

Any
rational, well-adjusted politician knows that you shouldn't take on the
press. And above all, you should never mess with the society editor.
She's got friends in high places.

Actually, Fidel's edict wouldn't disturb me if I thought that its effect would be felt only by society editors in Havana.

But I know in my heart that his berserk idea will appeal to some perverse mind in our own Internal Revenue Department.

(I
know what you're saying. You're saying it couldn't happen here. There
are no perverse minds in our Internal Revenue Department. If that's
what you're saying, you're sicker than Castro.)

So we might just
as well face up to an embarrassing possibility. Any moment now Mirror
News Society Editor Wanda Henderson might be stripped bare of her
adjectives.

This, in our business, is as drastic as filching the green celluloid eye shade from the beaten brow of an overnight copy reader.

Suddenly,
brides won't be (in print, at least) "blushing." At a buck an
adjective, who can afford to let them be coy? Hostesses wont' be
"charming."Loper gowns won't be "decollete," and soirees won't be "lavish."

To
test the havoc this adjective tax would wreak, I rummaged through my
scrapbook of Wanda's old columns the other day. (I started collecting
them after my doctor told me that it was healthy for a man to have a
hobby.)

In her column of last Tuesday, Wanda was aboard an
80-foot yacht on a cocktail cruise. Among others present were Beverly
Hills Mayor George Davis and his wife, and the FrankSlagels.

There
was a "refreshment-toting" steward, "knee-deep" carpeting, "mahogany
paneled, handsomely appointed, luxury" staterooms. And, beside Alice's
bunk (Alice was Jack's wife) was a "fluffy blue wool" octopus.

You can see what Wanda's up against. In one paragraph, she blew eight bucks on adjectives.

 Later in her account, she refers to the aforementioned Slagel
as "a jaunty sea dog." An economy-minded editor would blue-pencil
"jaunty" and "sea." But if it were up to me, in this instance, I'd
spend the two bucks.

There are limitless pitfalls in skimping on
adjectives. For example, Joan Winchell, the social butterfly on The
Times, carried the terse bit of information yesterday:

"Anita Ekberg is wearing rhinestone clips in her widow's peak."

Without expensive adjectives the item would read: "Anita Ekberg is wearing clips in her peak."

I'm sorry for what this adjective ban will do to Miss Henderson and Miss Winchell, and for what it has already done to Miss Ekberg.

So Let's Brood About Me

But I must confess that my concern goes deeper than that. I'm worried about myself.

I
know how those bureaucrats in Washington work. They start taxing
society columnists. Nest thing you know, they'll be after common
people's columnists like me.

I say it isn't fair. I only know 11
adjectives, which I use over and over again in the same column. At
least, I should be entitled to a rate.

Confidential File

Medical Profession Recognizes a Peril

There
are groups in this town that are highly sensitive to criticism by the
press. So sensitive, in fact, that I get the feeling sometimes they'd
just as soon we didn't exist.

They don't like the idea of our
reporting — to coin a phrase — all the news that's fit to print.
Especially, if the news happens to place them or their cohorts in a bad
light.

They can't stand having their mistakes hung up in public places.

And they're not the least bit timid about running to a reporter's boss if they feel their dignity has been sullied.

A few days ago I wrote an article directly concerning a group which prides itself on its dignity.

Probably it's the most respected profession in the world today; the medical profession.

I
told the story of a doctor who had been very careless — careless
enough to have almost caused a tragedy involving a 2 1/2-year-old child.

He
had disposed some prescription medicine — pretty, colored pills — and
some hypodermic needles in an alleyway where some kids got their hands
on it and began passing it around as "candy."

I pointed out that
the doctor wasn't very concerned with the health and safety of the
public to have committed such a negligent act.

Then I sat back and waited for the repercussions. And I'd been around long enough to know that I could expect some.

But I was mistaken.

I did get some calls from doctors. They weren't "incensed subscribers," however.

One thanked me for the column and added:

"If you didn't reach anybody else, you reached me. Just before I sat down with the newspaper. I had absent-mindedly tossed a package of sample pills from a pharmaceutical house into the waste-basket."

I heard from the Los Angeles County Medical Assn. They assured me that the occurrence which I described wasn't a common one.

"However," I was told, "it can happen. Every now and then we run a reminder about it in our bulletin."

The LACMA issued a special bulletin on the subject the day after the column appeared.

Another
doctor told me that the Los Angeles Police Department had recently sent
out warnings of its own to various medical associations.

The police were more concerned with the hypodermic-needle problem.

A
new type of disposable injection unit, called a preloaded hypodermic
syringe insert, is beginning to find its way into the hands of addicts
around town.

It's a simple matter to turn one of the disposable
inserts into a hype kit — and the LAPD urged the doctors to break the
needles before tossing the inserts into the trash.

I was also told by the California Osteopaths Association that they plan to run the LAPD warning in the next issue of the monthly publication.

But
most interesting was the information I received that a lot of the
pharmaceutical house free samples which flood local doctors' mail boxes
end up where there's a genuine need.

The alumni association of
the College of Medical Evangelists' school of medicine has had as a pet
project since 1951: the collection of medical equipment and surplus
drugs for distribution to missionaries throughout the world.

Medical Evangelists at Work

In the last 12 months they've shipped out 18 tons of medical equipment and supplies.

The
alumni contribute their surplus free drug samples to the project, but
— I'm told — they'll welcome similar contributions from other
doctors. Any doctor interested may contact the project's co-ordinator, Mrs. Esther Hackman, at ANgeles 2-2173.

For
my part, I'm glad the doctors took my criticism as it was intended, I
guess they're too busy being sensitive about more important matters to
have time to take offense at a published account of a mistake by one of
their colleagues.