Life — December 7, 1928 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

RQHF DSF L PE LPP ag fy b< iG i ne ((( 4 I Christmas Is Only December 25th Along the Main Stem Dear Pat Wittarp: Merry Ecksmus yourself! And don’t make me laff! From my box-seat on this so-called Gay White by Walter Winchell Way it isn’t so merry. To hear the natives | argue it, it is a lot of whoopee—without the letter “‘p,”” or am I over your head? No kiddin’, Willard, Broadway — and one speaks of the very heart of it (which is the actor)—will tell you that the old Stem which is supposed to be the merri- est alley in the whole world (and it usu- ally is) is also the unhappiest thorough- fare at this time of the year. In fewer words, the only Santy Clauses on Broad- way are those anemic-looking representa- tives of the Salvation Army that monitor the huge black kettles on the corners to | receive the coins of the passersby. Broadway, old pal, may look like a Christmas tree from 53rd Street looking south, because of its countless colorful! bulbs, and don’t forget there is all of that “tinsel,” too! But Broadway is a pretty friendless spot if you happen to be in the show business or if you happen to be broke, which is just another way of say- ing the same thing. Oh, I know what you're saying. 1 know there is a certain amount of gaiety and that Xmas spirit, but they are charg- ing at least six bits a swallow for it even in the second-rate places, What I thought would make your Foliday a little less gay was telling you how miserable the lads and lassies are who belong to the sup- posed-to-be Big Time street of the world. And believe you me, Willard, they are plenty unhappy. Take it from this former m, who still is one of them in his heart. Of course I am leaving out the guy who is prospering. He can afford to go home for the holidays if it isn’t too tar away. He can afford to come home loaded with goodies for his mater, pater and his sister’s kids, but the mug who has been laying off for the last six months and doesn’t know where Next Week is coming from, and still is’idle, isn’t in the | the working actor, mind. Let's say he is mood to yell “Whoopee” or even fake it.| working in New York. If he happens to All right, chuck in the actor who is | be near the N. V. A. Club (which is a working! So what? So the same to you, | then! What does he do? The good old Christmas spirit makes him do an extra performance without pay that day—four shows if the policy of the dump happens to be three, and five if he happens to be working for the Loew Circuit, which is usually four and five on Saturdays, Sun- days and (heheh) Holidays! And while the subject is up, that goes for the Pantages Circuit and all of the other chains that have big-hearted man- agers who send back a sandwich with their regards. We still are gabbing about The Wonder City New York, glorious mistress of the seven seas, Peopled by a race of many nationalities: How your spires beckon in the western light, Each a glittering, glowing, glorious stalagmite! Masterpiece of moderns, opus of all time, Blending from cacophony, rhapsody sub- lime— You deserve the fealty of most gallant knights. Perfume should your zephyrs be, gold your streets, by rights; Tower-high your standards fly—in the breeze they dance: Cohen and Finkelstein and Cohn—coats, and vests and pants! BertHotp GotpsMitH, Jr. spot the managers promoted to keep the hambos from squawking too loud), he frequents the place where they advertise a nice big Christmas dinner gratis! A nice big Christmas dinner consisting of ginger ale and dainty sandwiches and a hunk of marble cake. Isn’t that a lovely dish to set before an acrobat? Well, any- how, that’s what you get and you like it! While most other folk are tearing a turkey or punishing a plum pudding or massacring cranberry sauce, the average actor and actress are trying to kid them- selves into being happy with what is bet- ter described as a load of raspberries and ja dish of managerial applesauce. But that’s what you get for being a ham and it was one of the reasons I went to the depths and started working for a tabloid. But that’s another sad story which I shall have to tell you about some time, when you are on the verge of a crying ag. Me sum, mine pel, Christmas is the time of the year when most actors wish they had saved a dollar a week! Ask any of them to name you the three worst weeks inthe season and I'll spot you 8 to § the retort is: “St. Paul, Syracuse and Xmas Week!" And did you know that the only Xmas tree on Broadway is the evergreen that the New York Edison Company erects at 43rd Street annually? Well, it is, and while I guess the Edison Company plants it there to provide a bit of Ecksmus spirit, it also is a damb fine ad for them. But mebbe I'm getting too sassy. Nope, Willard, There Ain’t No Santa Claus on Broadway! But we have plenty of Xmas benefits! Ooohmyess! Benefits for this and benefits for that. Benefits for this charity and benefits for that church. But all of them are possible only because New York has always had enough sapadillos among the theatrical (Please turn to page 58) — Page 31 comicbooks.com