Judge, 1929-09-07 · page 9 of 36
Judge — September 7, 1929 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Diary of an Absent-Minded Fella" This is a humorous two-part page from Judge magazine. The main feature is a satirical diary chronicling a vacationing man's comedic mishaps: he forgets his luggage, gets lost returning to his starting point instead of reaching his destination, misses appointments, and ultimately arrives at a closed vacation home after the hosts have sailed to Europe. The accompanying illustration shows a car precariously perched on a cliff edge—visual reinforcement of the protagonist's chaotic journey. The caption "Now—no stunting, young man!" suggests reckless driving. The sidebar "Things I'd Like to Know" offers social commentary on period quirks: butchers' winter hats, pancake-flippers' thoughts, why attractive girls befriend plain ones. This reflects 1920s-era casual observations about social behavior and gender dynamics, written with tongue-in-cheek curiosity rather than genuine inquiry. The satire targets absent-mindedness and poor planning as comedic character flaws.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Diary of an Absent- Minded Fella Monday—My vacati Didn't realize it till the an kidded me about it, Spent the rest of the day packing. All set now, Wired the Spencers ac- cepting their bid for these next two weeks at their camp in the lirondacks. Hope to get away to an early start in the morning. Tuesday—Got away to an carly start. Reached Albany at noon where I found that my bags weren't in the car. Telephoned Meadows but remembered he was away on vacation too. Could swear I put those bags in the ear. Half way home to get my bags car began to knock. No oil I Steamed up to a garage. Borrowed a terrible looking Ford roadster. Got home in the rain at midnight. Soaked, found the bags. n started guess. Wednesday—Got away to an carly sts Off the road a lot but made the little town where my car is, Will be ready to- morrow the garage Thursday—C away carly start. Engine O. K. Nice day, country lovely. Sunny and so forth. Took several side ds to enjoy scenery. Hate in roads. Along in the eve- ning came to a big city it must be Albany but imagine my surprise to find it New York. Back to where I started from. Never mind, I'll get away in the morning. Friday—Had a lot of trouble last night. Couldn't find the key to my apartment and couldn't rouse the superintendent. Put the little old bus in a garage and went to a hotel. Got up early and ran into Flora Dunning who was in town for the d. Took her to lunch. Must have mislaid my purse. She had to pay the check. I was mortified. Gadded about with Flora till I sudde remembered the car and my v cation. Dashed off but ran into Ned Rogers. Had dinner with Ned and then took in a show. Coming out of the theatre I thought of the car but spent the night with Ned as it was too late to get aw Saturday—Couldn’t find the rage where I left the car till “Now—no stunting, young man!” along about noon . . and reached Albany where I parked for the night. Figure on reaching the camp tomorrow eve- ning. . got away Got away to an early Stuck to main time. Reached art. Fine day. to save dark to find the place ly closed. Only a care- taker on the place who told me the Spencers had sailed for Europe. I wonder if it was the Peters in Easthampton who in- vited me for this fortnight? I'll wire them, first thing in the morning, Grorce Mircuece Things I'd Like to Know.- . Where butchers hats they winter and comedians get the ones they ruin? What the girls who flip pan- cakes in) windows think about, and especially what they'd think about a fellow who took them to Childs’ for dinner. Why every extremely attrac tive girl has an ugly duckling for a chum, Whether marksman told him pointing was impolite. And if I'd be any happier if I knew these things. the straw wear in —Carrore Carrore