Judge, 1932-03-05 · page 12 of 36
Judge — March 5, 1932 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis for Modern Readers This is a humorous letter from a self-made athlete boasting about his Florida vacation. The narrator is a comically incompetent, self-deluded man who: - Falsely claims athletic prowess while unable to swim - Treats women dismissively ("dolls," bringing a chaperone he calls "Katinka") - Gets a hotel job as a diving board lifeguard despite having no qualifications - Attends a fashion show featuring "beach pajamas" (1920s swimwear) - Desperately seeks newsreel exposure to boost his fake reputation **The satire targets:** Nouveau riche pretenders, male vanity, and the 1920s obsession with celebrity and publicity. The humor depends on the reader recognizing this character as a transparent fraud—someone fabricating credentials and accomplishments while remaining oblivious to his own inadequacy. The two cartoon illustrations depict his mishaps and pomposity, reinforcing the text's mockery of this self-aggrandizing con artist.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE LETTERS OF A SELF-MADE ATHLETE By Rex Deane D' an Por: Here Iam in the land of grapefruit and horseshoe pitchers. We had a swell trip down, Katinka and [ (that’s what I call her now), there was a lady’s maid along for chaperone, [think she called it. Just another word for nce, if you should ask me. > are staying at Miami, and this morning [ambled over to the beach to look for tughed at me when I told them [ wanted a | ! Said that none of these dolls around here ever went in swimmi afraid to get their suits wet, most likely. So [ went back to the hotel and told my troubles to a guy who sits around the lobby looking glum all the time. He turned out to be one of the owners of the dump, although he don’t secm very happy about it. He was pretty nice to me tho’ and told me that they were having a fashion parade in the pool that afternoon and that if I wanted to I could go over nd hang around to see that none of the models fell overboard. So, here I am, sitting on a diving board eight hours a day, trying to get a sunburn for my room and board. None of his business if I can’t swim a stroke. [can fish out the fraily with a hook if T have to. The fashion show was okay at that. Some pretty nifty numbers wearing those beach pajamas, and you can now sce me in the newsrcel when 10 comicbooks.com