Confidential File

'Practical' Advice to June Graduates

Eleven
months out of the year I've got no feud with the eggheads of my
generation. It's only in the month of June that they bug me.

Then
(which is now), like so many penguins, they file in pompous parade onto
the speakers' platform of the finest institutions of learning across
our nation.

From their positions behind the rostrums they honk
out to the thousands of starry eyed innocents in their captive grasp
about the "challenges awaiting the graduate of today."

They
mumble platitudes and theories and lofty ideas until half the
auditorium is asleep and, inevitable, they come up with the bit about
"You are the future leaders of tomorrow," which is not only a routine,
it's redundant.

What they neglect to give is solid, sensible, practical advice. For this reason — and because, through some oversight, nobody's
ever invited me to address a graduating class — I have prepared a
realistic guide for those young men and women who are laying down their
textbooks this month.

Clip it out. Carry it with you as you embark on your greatest journey — the journey into adulthood.

First, to those of you who are becoming doctors:

Your
primary concerns should be (1) to learn how to write illegibly and (2)
to begin searching for the right kind or girl to marry.

She
should have a father who is wealthy enough to set you up in private
practice, or, in lieu of that, she should be a good mixer, a joiner.
Have be become active in women's club activities. She can perform an
invaluable service as a spotter for hypochondriacs.

If you have
one already who's supported you through medical school, keep her.
Chances are she'll fit in fine as your receptionist.

Graduating
advertising students; I'm sure you're well equipped with all the
information you need on media research, layout, consumer surveys,
subliminal brainwashing and the art of writing a five-line jingle for
denture paste.

But, let me give you some essentials the textbooks neglected.

Take Four Martinis

 First, the practicing junior account executive should practice until he is perfect at handling four martinis a day at lunch.

Remember to call every client "baby."

Learn all you can from one of the older vice-presidents in the firm, and then as soon as you can, knife him.

For future politicians: Marry young, and immediately, or as soon as is reasonable, have four children and a small dog.

Become an Elk, or failing that, at least a Saint & Sinner.

Don't kiss babies. It's passe politics. Besides, you're liable to kiss a little chickenpox carrier.

Talk at every given opportunity, but whatever you do don't say anything.

Fashion designers: Develop a kind of benevolent sneer for use whenever anyone mentions Christian Dior, Jacques Fath or Don Loper.

Be eccentric. Throw temper tantrums at the slightest provocation.

Have Hair Done Right

Remember,
you're a walking advertisement. Always be chic. Never go out unless
your hair is done properly. And if you don't have one already, affect a
mincing gait that will make people turn around and stare.

Of
course, I offer this advice assuming that you're a girl-graduate
fashion designer. If you're a boy graduate, these suggestions are
optional.

That's it, children. Opportunity is everywhere. The world is your oyster. So, dammit, go forth.

Confidential File

Mash Notes and Comments

"Dear Paul,

"There
is a new game going around that I am the sole instigator of which has
the skeptics saying, 'How about that?' It's spreading like wild flowers.

"Here's all you do: Write down a three digit number; the first one must be larger than the other two.

Now, reverse this number and subtract that from the original.

"Then take this remainder and reverse it and add the two together.

"Subtract 400. Got it?

"Now
then, turn to that page number in the Central District L.A. phone book
for June '59, and look at the second listing on that page.

"How about that?

"You can see how new this trick is because the '59 book is still crashing in screen doors out in the fringe areas.

"This is no trick, Paul. I mean, this is no gag or joke. It's for real.

"It's more of a trick or a gag, though, than it is a stunt or a gimmick.

"You know what I mean?" (Signed) Cliff Mackay, 6844 Camrose Dr., Hollywood.

–Shut up and deal.