Life — October 26, 1928 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

arama ALONG THE MAIN STEM Dear Pac Wittarp: Well, I suppose Walter you've heard of the newest A aggravation Broadway has Winchell suffered lately. The old Stem has the miseries again because a few of its phony baloney sons and daughters are trying to give the Canyon a bad name by producing smoking-car and poolroom stories on the stage. But our Mayor, who has been getting up early, lately, lost lit- ue time in sending the gendarmes up to close one of them and by the time you get this he probably will have found a way to send some other off-color shows where they belong. by to the hoosegow Mae West, who accused a reporter of having “a filthy mind” because he drew some drawable conclusions from her al- leged play, “Pleasure Man,” was taken to the lockup with her entire cast of sixty hams for supplying a piece that was uglier than a sewerage. This phrail, who drew ten days on Blackwell's Island last year for violating the law with a turkey called “Sex,” has been getting away with a so- called hit tagged “Diamond Lil.” woman to her own taste, say me, but if it will make her any happier when she finds it out, the expression, “Gone West,” no longer means to die; it now means “to get filthy, nasty, or vulgar.” Incidentally, F, P. A. pulled a pip when he said: “Out where the something's a little somethinger, that’s where Mae West begins!”” Among other new things in New York is the change of policy on the Keith Cir- cuit. The vaudeville bills now start on Sundays instead of Mondays, which is old stuff out there where you men are alleged men. I guess a lot of New Yorkers wel- Desk Serckant: Two men and a girl held you up, eh? Kin you describe ‘em? “Well, the girl had a run in her stocking just above the right knee.” Every ||" / come the shift, however, as they'll have some place to go to on the Sabbath in. stead of church. Speaking of church, Wil. lard, many of us stay-up-lates jammed into St. Malachy’s the other day to sy goodbye to one of the Stem’s favorite sons. Jack Conway, who fathered most of the contagious Broadway vernacular (which first appeared in Variety, the theatrical rag he served for fifteen years), and whom I raved about to you recently, died from a “bum ticker,” as he called his heart. His funeral shattered the credo that Broadway hasn't a heart and the demon. stration of grief was so great that it drew an editorial in the Times. Not since Frank Baconof “Lightnin’” died several years ago have there been so many genuine tears shed’ on Broadway, but Jack — Conway rated ’em, Willard— he was a grand guy. But he left behind enough things by which to remember him, including the slanguage, “That's a wow!”....“He’s high hat!"’. .. .and “Varicose boulevards” (for a girl’s legs). Oh, he coined a mess of other famous cracks and one of his similes concerned the Dempsey-Firpo championship bout. Conway _ predicted that “Dempsey would knock him stiffer than a dress shirt’ and he did! The old street will miss Jack, believe you Walter. Peggy Joyce, you might crave to know, is getting more beautiful and thinner all over. Which reminds me of Texas Guinan’s comment when Tex was asked: “Now that your night club is closed up, how are you going to make a living?” “Oh, I'm not worrying,” Texas re torted; “I can always be a Peggy Joyce bridesmaid.” The night club sitch-ce-ay-shun is oke, again, with Jean Adams enticing spenders to the Beaux Arts on goth Street; and Arthur Brown's warbling of torch chunes at the Chiteau-Madrid on 54th is one of the high spots at that fascinating place. The chow-mein joints are doing the hand- somest trade, however, and you've got 0 ay for your lichee nuts. These potential lauadeyinen certainly have wised up to the white man’s racket and a tip less than two-bits rates you One of Those Looks. i CANINE FLATFOOT Kissey: Great Scott! What big feet your puppy has! . Rrssey: Yeah—he'll be a police dog when he grows up. ‘eu comicbooks.com