Life, 1921-03-17 · page 25 of 40
Life — March 17, 1921 — page 25: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two satirical pieces mocking male pretension and incompetence. **"Men Who Impress Me"** is a humorous essay listing types of men the author finds impressive—but the "impressive" traits are actually mundane competencies most men lack: wearing properly-fitting clothes, keeping fountain pens functional, driving without looking nervous, arriving home on time with the correct groceries. The satire targets male everyday failures and the low bar for male respectability. **The cartoon below** depicts "Professor Woppoli's Trained Seals Demanding Fish and a Half for Overtime"—anthropomorphized seals in human clothing striking or protesting in heavy rain. This appears to be labor-strike satire, likely referencing contemporary labor disputes or union demands, with the absurdity of animals unionizing for better pay serving as commentary on worker demands (perhaps viewed as unreasonable by the magazine's readers). **"Home-Brewed Philosophy"** offers folk sayings about brewing alcohol—relevant given Prohibition-era America's underground alcohol culture.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
March 17 Men Who Impress Me (With apologies to Jacqueline Embry) EN whose waistcoats fit perfectly and do not give one the impression that the garment has just been borrowed from a friend, as the average man's does. Men who are the possessors of fountain pens that always have ink inside of them, where it should be, and not in a murky film all over them (as mine has). Men who can drive their wife mother-in-law into town without looking like an inexperienced chauffeur. Men who can go home at 5:30, hand ie a neat package, look her firmly e and say: “There, Mary, is the chop you phoned me to bring,” without having her say: “Heavens, Henry, did you forget the bread again?” Men who can write letters to the Vox Populi column and manage to say some- thing sufficiently sane or original to get mention in the editorial columns. Men who can look a life-insurance agent in the eye and have him reaching nat in five minutes, and their ¥ in the for his Men whose grown sons are afraid to “guv'’ner” to their faces. all them PROFESSOR WOPPOLI’S “THE NIGHT OP THE BIG WIND.” Men who can show the beauties of their vegetable garden to friends and claim credit for it without having the wife cas- ually mention that the hired man did most of the work. Men who can relate so many anecdotes to Babe Ruth, Hoover or similar and incidents relative George M. Cohan, 393 Prominent persons that their hearers feel certain the narrator is the cousin, if not the brother-in-law, of the celebrity re- ferred to. Men who can, in ten minutes, deliver an eloquent address on any subject under the sun by, mixing together, in practically equal portions, parts of Lincoln's Gettys- burg address, Longfellow’s “Psalm of Life,” Bryan on Free Silver and some re- cent editorials from their favorite evening newspaper. Jack Morton, Home-Brewed Philosophy A WATCHED pot is never stolen by a thirsty friend. A quart in the closet is worth two in storage. To brew is human, to treat a friend, divine. Nothing brewed, nothing gained It's never too late to mend the kettle. Too many recipes spoil the brew. There’s many a slip 'twixt the brew and the lip. Absent friends make the brew last longer. A little moonshine always makes the sun seem brig \ man is judged by the brew he makes. TRAINED SEALS DEMAND FISH AND A HALF FOR OVERTIME, comicbooks.com