Thompson 350207

Cliffside, February 4 — Diary: Last Monday hearing Dick Powell in “Happiness Ahead”, not seeing the show until now. Josephine Hutchinson a hit, too and in a new picture. Plain American Betty Furness such a favorite to me. Can’t remember Tuesday. Wednesday, not around much. Thursday my first pop in at Forest City Club House, the music is good, everyone has a great time. And there saw a black-haired beauty; who? And dancing were Editor and Mrs. Alcock. Katherine McBrayer, Howard Magness, A. C. Duncan and Dr. Elliott at the door. About Carolina on Saturday returning to hear of the lady who died suddenly—driving there shortly. Sunday at Spartanburg and looking over fashions of grey outfits. Dinner with the boys at The Elite. And how good coffee.

P-O-K-E—A paper bag, etc., etc. Consult your dictionary further. The arguments of others should not weaken you. Traditions, at least a part of them must stand. The good old things can not be forgotten. In this section “POKE” is certainly a fine old tradition; to your guns men; we must carry on.

You must remember Erik Rhodes in the “The Gay Divorcee,” playing the part of Tonetti, the professional corespondent. Impractical movie-ism it was but what a grand performance by the former stage star… Another nonentity of the movie industry is the bundling hit, “Pursuit of Happiness,” the Frances Lederer picture. Likely such customs are mythical yet how audiences react to this sort of fun. We saw it the second time to become a Lederer follower.

For a month I have had trouble with buttons coming off. Especially more trouble with a button hole. Yeah, neighbor, pull yer chair over. Its one of them grey shirts. The second hole from the collar. The fixing around it, you know the what-you-call-it has become loosened from its proper and fitting anchorings, so in a hurry a button always hangs there. For a hurry dress rehearsal that shirt is always on hand or rather on back.. So next time, en passant, do me a favor; just ignore that button hole, that’s what you do. In fact you will probably ignore this paragraph by choice or maybe you don’t read any of this. If you don’t read any of this: nuts to you.

Picker Biggerstaff, one of the home boys, cuts lots of hair around town or more properly at his tonsorial place in the Haynes building. A good word for just plain home folk is not a bad idea. Pick is just himself—that is the thing of importance, just being yourself. Pick is just himself, no fancy, no frills. A sort of likable fellow to call your friend. A citizen to remember. A fellow to appreciate along the way. And so a little bouquet along the way to a fellow who is just himself.

Cliffside Theatre has recently done record runs of late releases. The Jeanette McDonald-Maurice Chevalier picture “The Merry Widow” was shown here two weeks advance of Charlotte screens. “Midshipmen Jack” and other pictures have been shown at surprisingly early dates. That is a good record for the house here. And “Evelyn Prentice” was here surely before we expected it.

The antics of Ken Murray still amuse me, recalling the Charlotte performance of Earl Carroll’s Vanity show. In the court room scene, this—Solidly commanded the tow-head collegiate judge, “Well, Murray you will tell the court your story.” “O. K. judge,” wisecracked Murray. “Well, Judge I argued with my wife, first I swung at her with the ax, but I missed her head,” (And the court roars over the joke) “But I got an arm, then I missed again and got another arm.” The judge instructed him to go on with the story. Murray continued, “Well, then Judge I dunked her.” So from this story the court decided to hang him then and there, even the defense agreed. Then Murray: “Say, you boys are killing me.” Judge: “Stand up, Murray, and the court will pass sentence. I am going to give you a suspended sentence.” Murray: “O. K.” Judge: “We’re going to hang you.” Murray: “Judge you’re stringing me.”

Because of a busy day this is a mid-nite column; the bells ring 12 o’clock. There’s a tavern in the town, so kind friend adieu.