January 18, 1934
Cliffside, Jan. 17 — “Little Women” was a dull, below par picture. The cast, inclusive of Katherine Hepburn, Joan Bennett, Jean Parker and Frances Dee (now Mrs. Joel McRea), did not have the chance to display their real acting ability.
There goes Mr. and Mrs. Victor Fortune down the street. Cooler weather we’re having. Vic is holding his ears.
“One Man’s Journey” — a picture of a true-to-life theme—is worthy of being seen by any man. Lionel Barrymore literally lives his role as the doctor. I shall not forget this story for a long time.
Here we are: Mr. M. Hendrick is lookalike Benito Mussolini in that he is consistent in business—he is persistent in business—his physical build is similar to that of Il Duce Mussolini, the big gun of Italy….Landrum Pruette reminds you of Will Rogers because of his unsurpassed wit. (He is better looking than Will!). When Pruette decides not to tell you another one, well, he just believes he’ll tell one more…..My good friend Mr. Roberson, says that O. K. (Obe) Padgett resembles the “Hunchback of Notre Dame,” instead of resembling the prominent orchestra leader, Vincent Lopez. But Obe really is a likeness of Lopez. He is of chubby build, has a hair cut like Lopez and grins with one of those pleasant ones, as does Lopez… Mrs. G. O. Moss smiles in the same manner as Miriam Hopkins of the screen… Dr. G. O. Moss is one of the most alert physicians of the county. I could tell you that he resembles a current crooner of the airwaves, but I might be running from the doctor until day after tomorrow…Dr. J. C. Mills says that he doesn’t like that song about “Horses, Horses, Horses.” Anyway, we still have “The last Round Up” and “Annie Doesn’t Live Here Any More.”
Spud Crawford won the Lance Packing Company December bridge contest. There was a number in this County who competed for the Rutherford county prize. Spud’s first prize gift, received yesterday, was a box of varied sandwiches packed by Lance.
Did you know, there is nothing like a button sewed on at home?
Some song-writer could write one and call it “Dancing With A Handbag on Your Arm,” as I saw a lady recently doing.
My long time friend—Henry Shuford—is having a tough going with rheumatism. May you soon be shaking a leg again, young fellow….Once I bought a hat which ostensibly had a feather in the band. We were riding in an automobile and Young Shuford was behind me. He drew the conclusion that the feather was of no particular need and so yank, he threw it out the window. At that time he was about four years of age—he is now beginning his school career.
Clarence Griffin, prominent citizen of county and state, historian, editorialist, legislator, and reliable man-at-hand, is a young man you should encourage now and then. He will be heard from, as he has been! I recall Griffin’s faithful work in many county activities. He worked indefatigably for the Older Boys’ Conference. Griffin, here’s to you—may further success be yours.
O. O. McEntyre says the world will grow better and the cities smaller.
Eddie Cantor—(I am doubled with laughter).
New York’s smart set, as Walter Winchell says they are laughingly called, also gives me a chuckle. Recently not one of them could agree as to how a Martini is mixed. Some said the drink must be shaked, others that it is stirred, but no one agreed on the same idea. Three different Tonys could not agree on the same idea. And they were from such distinctive hostelries as the Savoy-Ritz, the St. Moritz on the park, etc. Ho, Ho, Hoss Laugh.
After a hard day’s work I like a nice quiet tune—something on the order of “Tiger Rag.” Grrrump, hold that tiger.
To Mr. and Mrs. D. C. Colvin: Thanks. When you say those nice things, I shall try harder.
Mister Jack Shuford—a well known resident here—was an object of my kidding recently. I inquired if he ever combed that upturned patch of hair on his head, and he obliged with, “Boy, I have combed that place and brushed it but to no avail.”……After all it is serious, (I stand with bowed head), and is really no joking matter. But he ups with, “I think I will tie a ribbon on that sometime.” Now from shoulder to shoulder, I can’t afford to miss that. Here you are: Can you imagine Jack Shuford with a ribbon in a bow on his hair? And standing on his desk throwing papers in the floor and yelling, “I don’t wanna.” And someone rushes out to get red-striped candy to quiet him. Or Chiclets?
Hot-cha note: Spud Crawford was seen having 11:00 o’clock supper Saturday nite with a belle of the town. Zowie!