March 1, 1934
Cliffside, Feb. 28 — Harry Robertson, ye olde town dentist, told me that I should have a certain incisor extracted in the 20th Century manner, the easy way, ect. That was two years ago before I let him pull it. It has been gone now for a year. The space between the other two teeth is as large as at the time the tooth was pulled. At the time the doctor assured me with all sincerity; “Oh yes, the space will close up. “Well, it hasn’t closed up. I tell you there ain’t no justice. Furthermore, there is the reason for international unrest. There can be no confidence in your neighbor when his word does not measure up to its original meter. Sad condition, when professional men tell you to “watch the birdie” and there ain’t no birdie there…. Now, Harry wants to fill some teeth of mine. Now from shoulder to shoulder, as man to man, elbow to elbow, etc., just what am I to believe about the possibilities he has in store for me. “Yes, we can fix that right up,” says the doctor in the accepted Congressional manner. Pouf, pouf.
Small-towner’s dairy: Saturday up at 9. To Spartanburg sitting with my lil brudder, Sam, at the optometrist for long enough. There the parade of “folks” was very interesting; ever amusing. A mother and daughter of the old school were laughable. And I was a perfect gentleman; she was so concerned with daughter’s welfare—I couldn’t understand why any young man would molest her. The doctor’s assistant, hmmm, pretty; she thought my “Can you take it, Sam?” amusing. Sam didn’t, tho, want her to keep doing what she was doin’ cause drops got in his eyes. Down the Montgomery building elevator and someone wanted on at every floor to bore me. Nearly 1 p. m., so we matriculated for chocolate milk shake. Home and lunch (yeah). Two o’clock and Chevroleting to Charlotte. Shelby detour still effective. Met the Victor Fortunes on the boulevard. In the Queen City, suspiciously used a dial telephone. Used coin three times. Twice she return. Third time she no return. I no get number. I no like dial telephone. I walks away a few steps. I listensand squints at the coin return. All is quiet. A zero hour. She percolates! I pounce on the five cents and in my pocket on my way. Calling on a beautiful lady and the two of us driving out Dilworth section. At Romany Road witnessed my first archery. This to the music of Isham Jones’ orchestra coming via the car’s radio. The level meadow and Robin Hoods interested me. How the marksman place those shafts in the target! At seven to The Carolina and Wheeler and Woolsey too characteristically smutty in “Hip Hips, Hooray.” A keen dislike for dial telephones.
My reader who signed herself “Hi-de-hi” says: “I think your McIntyre ‘silent love’ is silly.” Pu-lease, how could you be so brutally frank. Such a delicate subject. And so beautiful!
Oddities of thought: A five year old Cliffside boy smokes cigar… On East 6th in Charlotte The Fiddle Shop displays violin in neon outline …Recall Washington, D. C., friends telling me that they had the impression “Cliffside” was a Western North Carolina resort; the name was so pretty. Pretty name it is… Obe Padgett doing a Garbo wearing dark glasses at the soda counter. Th’ celebrity!…Heard that overseer of the town slipped on wet floor; said wet floor spanked overseer…Wesley McMurray is going some-where; he is studying hard…I want a first edition of Odd McIntyre’s autobiography…..Mr. Roberson and Mr. Frye of Florence Mills came to see us….Miss Hazel Horn becomingly wearing a rain cape dropped by Jiggs’ Sunday after-noon…The old man lost in front of Jiggs’ and Locke Hicks befriended him…
The only smiling editor ever seen: Mr. C. E. Alcock.
They resemble: Sheriff C. C. Moore and Connie Mack…Til Padgett (the younger) and Slats Randall, orchestra leader…Robert Edwards and Reginald Denny.
Having my say with one-words: Loy (Hick) Workman—Blondy. Andy Love (in Florida) —Grinny. J. C. Hames—Professional. H. L. Robertson—Dunno. Broad Simmons — Energetic. W. W. Nanney—Smiling. Jiggs Goforth —Agreeable. J. T. Gilbert—Alert. Forest City Courier linotype man—Tolerant, and how! The most beautiful of technicolor scenes this season: Ramon Novarro and Jeanette MacDonald. The picture is The Cat and The Fiddle. At the picture Robert Edwards, the athletic boy, with his brother and the ladies had seats just in front of mine.