Life, 1928-02-23 · page 6 of 35
Life — February 23, 1928 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two humorous pieces from Life's satirical tradition: **"The Friend Who Won't Lend Me His Ears"** is a complaint-driven monologue where the narrator describes boring a friend with endless trivial personal stories—medical issues, financial problems, romantic history—while the friend is forced to listen. The satire targets self-absorbed people who monopolize conversations without considering their listener's interest. **"Saying Something Worth While"** is a dialogue mocking superficial conversation. A woman defends talking about nothing, while a man argues that silence beats empty chatter. The humor stems from the contradiction: both characters are guilty of exactly what they're criticizing. The accompanying cartoons illustrate these social awkwardness scenarios. The satire reflects early-20th-century concerns about modern social etiquette and genuine human connection.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Come on, Gert, shake a leg. You look like something unfinished by Rodin!” The Friend Who Won’t Lend Me His Ears HAVE a grievance. _It’s_ like this. A friend and I are walking —for exercise. I listen patiently while he tells me about the big night that started in a cabaret, and how he woke up in a strange room, and telephoned to the office to find out where he was and he was in a different town; about the doctor's re- port when he was examined for his last insurance; about the time he nearly put a deal over that would have made him comparatively rich— a hundred thousand or so; about the things he would do if he were rich; about the only serious love affair he ever had; about the things he likes to eat; about the time he was intro- duced to Sarah Bernhardt by a French consul when Sarah was barnstorming in Texas; about the people in the office who get on his nerves, and about the idiotic question the boss asked him and he nearly laughed in the boss’s face. But when he pauses to get his breath and I start to tell him about the time I nearly sold a story to the Saturday Evening Post; about how long it took me to quit smoking cig- arettes when the doctor said my heart was affected; about the time I was having a few drinks from the hip in a quiet place with a peach of a blonde and a strange fellow came up to the table, looking as mean as Jack Dempsey in action, and I said, “Who's this?” and she said, “This is my husband”; and about the con- viction I had about twenty years ago that I was going to die a drunkard’s death; and about the wonderful digestion I have—can eat almost anything an ostrich can; and about a big Eastern concern that offered me twice the salary I’m getting now —lI've hardly said a dozen words be- fore my friend exclaims, “There goes a pretty girl!” or, “Now, that's what I call an au-to-mo-bile!” Paul Cook. Saying Something Worth While GHE: It’s awfully hard to keep up a conversation just about noth- ing, don’t you really think it is? He: Sure. It’s a lot better to say nothing. Sue: I s’pose it is, isn’t it? Only don’t you think if a girl doesn’t talk all the time, sort of, men think she’s terribly dumb? He: Oh, I don’t know. Sue (with animation): I think they do—I really do! He: Well, maybe. Sue: But I honestly think it's perfectly ridic’lous to sort of talk just to make conversation because I mean I think you ought to talk about something worth while, sort of. He: Yeah, I think you're right. Sue: Anyways, I really think it’s awfully hard to keep up a conversa- tion just about nothing, don’t you? Tre One-Ars Driver Eats in A One-Arm LuNcHRooM comicbooks.com