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Matt Weinstock, Oct. 22, 1959

October 22, 2009 |  4:00 pm

 Oct. 22, 1959, I Can't Believe It

“I  .. Can’t .. Believe .. It!”


Brace Yourself

 Matt Weinstock
    As you have read, Gov. Brown announced the other day that he was through with proclamation business.  Too much time and energy were expended, he said, in calling attention to such inspirational events as Don't Race Your Motor Month, Pelican Appreciation Week and Don't Beat Your Wife Day.

    From now on, he said, only those proclamations required by law -- about a dozen a year - will emanate from his office.

   It's too bad Gov. Brown's declaration of policy can't be made retroactive and interstate.  Chopping up the calendar for sweet publicity's sake has reached a ridiculous nadir.

    Consider the press release that came in from Chicago a few days ago.  It stated, "There are 128 meals to go until National Indigestion Week, according to the Baking Soda Institute.  Still plenty of time to get in shape for the event, which starts right after Thanksgiving dinner." 

    Anyone feel sick sick sick?
    THE DAY AFTER Errol Flynn died, a Hollywoodian was in Willetts, a lumber town north of San Francisco.  He was reading a newspaper in a restaurant when two young lumber camp workers came by.  One, noticing the headline, said to the other, "Errol Flynn -- he was an actor, wasn't he?"
    Tempus fugits faster than you think.
In autumn the touch of
Each frolicsome breeze
Provokes Mother Mature
To do a strip-trees.
    ONLY IN L.A. -- A well-dressed woman in a downtown department store said to a clerk, "Can I get this ticket validated here?"  When the clerk, busy with a customer, failed to respond she repeated the query, again saying validated, then added in a tone of urgency, "My chauffeur's waiting!"

    A MAN NAMED Dan a few days ago went into a Civic Center saloon that caters to the shabby and the soiled.  The jukebox was blaring and the crowd was noisy.  After awhile the music box ran out of money and was quiet.
    As he sipped his beer, Dan watched an old derelict shuffle to the music box and put in a coin.  Immediately the place was filled with Mario Lanza singing "Ave Maria."  All conversation subsided and tears diluted more than one glass of beer.
    This too is L.A.
    ONE OF editor Bud Lewis' vivid memories of his recent trip to Egypt was his encounter with the aggressive camel herders near the Sphinx and Pyramids.  One of them soliciting him as a fare, called, "My camel's name California!"  Wondering if a spy system was operating, Bud challenged, "What makes you think I'm from California?"
"OK,"  the herder retorted.  "I change camel's name to Florida!"
    WORD PLAY -- The dictionary defines a canada as a gully, gulch or cattle path but Joe DuPlain, editorializing in La Canada Valley Sun, says it means mountain valley to him.  Further evidence that editors are poets at heart . . . Kurt Reher , who will play his mellow cello with the Philharmonic Orchestra Nov.12, has a palindrome last name -- the same forward and backward.  They're rather rare.  Examples:  civic, radar and the classic sentence, "Madam.  I'm Adam" . . . On his return home from kindergarten, Timmy Sayer, 5, was asked what he'd learned.  "We learned to sing the alphabet," he replied.  Asked how it went, he thought a moment, then said, "Gee.  I can't remember the words!"
    AROUND TOWN -- When Topanga's second fire in a week broke out and was controlled after burning 50 acres, one resident remarked to a neighbor, "Monotonous, isn't it?" . . . Did you hear, Anne Mosley asks, switching an oldie, about the Los Angelean who got a whiff of fresh air?  Took three buckets of smog to revive him.