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Matt Weinstock, Oct. 16, 1959

October 16, 2009 |  4:00 pm


Oct. 16, 1959, Thirteenth Apostle

Above, Eugene Vale discusses his novel "The Thirteenth Apostle," which received good notices at the time and is completely forgotten today. Out of curiosity, I picked up a copy on EBay. I may give it a little writeup if it's worthwhile. -- lrh  

Horrible Splice

Matt Weinstock     Film editors are among the most important, if unsung, factors in movie making.  After the producer finishes producing, the writer finishes writing, the actors finish acting and the director finishes directing, the editors put the pieces together smoothly. 

    A veteran film cutter was hired recently to edit a highly unlikely horror movie designed for the teen-age trade. 

    He did what he could against impossible odds but after the final cutting the desperate producer and director summoned him to give the film another run through in the hope further revision might improve it.

    It was a frustrating session and after ward the film cutter said with a shudder to a colleague, "It was like putting a  Band-Aid on a leper."
    AN AMATEUR PILOT flying along the shoreline near Oceanside recently saw a car in the surf and two women financially trying to push it on the beach.  He landed his crate at a nearby airport and called the Highway Patrol.  The CHP said it had jurisdiction only over highways, not beaches, and promised to notify the local sheriff's office.

    The pilot flew back to the distressed women, kept circling the car, and when they wrote in the sand, "Is help coming?"  he waggled his wings.

    But before the sheriff's posse could get into action, the U.S. Marines came to the rescue.  Attracted by the plane buzzing the reservation, someone dispatched an amphibious jeep to the scene and the car was pulled out.

    If he could have gotten a  submarine into the act the pilot feels certain he could have sold the incident to television.
High jinks with high balls
And bets on jinxed horses
Are two of the pastimes
That lead to divorces.

    A STUDENT, anxiety written on his face, poked his head into the SC classroom where writer Mary McCall was conducting her night course in play writing and asked, "Is this where they teach how to prevent juvenile delinquency?"
"I'm afraid not," she replied, "this is a course in writing."

    Afterwards it occurred to her that the young man may have inadvertently turned up a new approach to the disturbing subject.  Perhaps putting potential delinquents to work at a typewriter creating fictional murder and mayhem would cut down on the real stuff.
    BY THE WAY, the Board of Education pamphlet "Discipline," recently sent to parents of school children, may have had more impact than was realized.

    In confronting an elementary school pupil with his sins, Ed Harding, child welfare and attendance worker said, "Do you know who I am?"  Awed, the boy said, "Are you the man who runs the spanking machine?"
    A MAN WHO flew in from Dallas the other night isn't sure we're ready for the jet age.  After roaring across southwest skies at around 500 m.p.h. and saying precious minutes, the jet and its fidgeting passengers had to wait on a ramp at International Airport for half an hour.  No place to disembark.
    AT RANDOM -- The sly collegians at L.A. State argue their football team is ranked first in the nation on the polls.  Of course, it's La. (abbreviation for Louisiana) State . . . Provocative classified ad in the Newhall Signal:    Unencumbered girl, light housework.  Pregnant girl OK."  The key word is "unencumbered" . . . El squelcho dep't:  Two men in  a bar were telling each other how tough they were on a raising scale of improbability and finally, Pete the Waiter reports, one said witheringly, "You know, guys like you I eat alive for breakfast- when I'm not hungry!" . . . naturally the amateur meteorologists tried to describe yesterday's weird atmospheric effect caused by ash from the brush fire.  Nearest approach: pink twilight.