Day at the Races
After a long hiatus, Snake, this corner's caddy correspondent, has reported in again, this time with a racetrack adventure.
He and some other Bel-Air caddies who'd made a few good loops (carrying golf bags around the course) decided one day recently to try their luck at Hollywood Park.
They pooled their loot and agreed to bet on certain jockeys.
"We are not poor losers," Snake said, "but by the sixth race we were down to almost empty saddles."
Not only that, people swiped their seats when they went down to the windows to place their bets.
They were sitting high in the grandstand as the horses paraded for the seventh race. Their money was on a jockey who is a familiar figure in golf and a nice guy. As he went by one of the caddies yelled, "Hey, don'tthreeputt this one!"
But he blew it and the next race, on which the caddies' last dimes were riding. After the race, the same caddy walked up to what Snake calls the "almost barrier" and said softly to the jockey, "Just what really is your line?"
ON THURSDAY Mrs. Jean McKeen, who lives on a 40-foot sloop anchored at Balboa, got the signals that motherhood was imminent. Her husband, a yacht rigger, was working on a boat somewhere in the harbor and could not be reached, so she phoned her mother, Mrs. MaxRinehart, in L.A.
Her mother rushed there to help and as they started ashore Jean stopped and said she better leave a note for her husband.
And with the refreshing casualness with which young people now contemplate such matters she wrote simply, "Having baby," and dashed off to the hospital.
I used to watch the "give" shows,
Now I watch and play --
It seems the wheels who ran them
Gave themselves away.
-- JULIAN BROWN
WE'VE HAD hoses that burrow into the ground, men who claim to have ridden on flying saucers and all sorts of miracles and phenomena. This week there was a new mystery.
Mrs. Virginia Lily, 6102 Delphi St., Highland Park, phoned the paper and asked, "Have you heard of a plane losing something while flying over Los Angeles?"
Told there was no such report, she said, "Well there's a lot of butter on my roof."
Closer inspection revealed it was really oleomargarine, six quarter pounds of it. They had struck her roof and driveway and a neighbor's roof with tremendous force and splattered.
Mischievous youngsters might have been responsible, she conceded, but the blobs were in a line, indicating they had landed from a great height.
"It's kind of silly," she said, "having to clean up after airplanes."
EVERYONE IS making cracks about the Yanks, but Eric Sevareid said it best on his CBS radio broadcast. An excerpt: "For years we've been preaching the cause of the small against the big, the weak against the fast and the old against the new. And behold, it is beginning to happen. The New York Yankees are in eighth position in the American League. It is a warning wink in the Almighty's eye, putting the world on notice that those who live by power must die by power. The meek shall inherit the earth and it's about time."
FOOTNOTES -- There's one in every crowd. During a discussion of "The World, the Flesh and the Devil," in which only three persons are left after an atomic war, BillGraydon asked. "Is that the one where Harry Belafonte get the ticket for jaywalkings ?" ... Attention all paupers: A Mercedes-Benz ad offers "the world's most honored car at prices pauper or prince can afford. From $3,500 to $13,000" ... Monty Ryan knows a ladymalaproper who says if she didn't go to gym class every week her muscles would get "flappy " ... This is one of the weekends the safety council people worry about, and the traffic toll figures Sunday night will tell why. Me, I'm staying home on some long postponed reading.