Matt Weinstock, Jan. 21, 1960
Dead: One Subscription
About a year ago Don Hoster, the quixotic photographer, joined a record club. He was a good kid about it. He bought the required number of albums and paid for them.
But about six months ago he lost interest. When a card came announcing the selection for the month he marked an “X” in the designated place to indicate he didn’t want it and send it off. He also wrote on the cards, “Cancel subscription.”
But the cards kept coming and a few days ago, to his chagrin, he received a record he hadn’t ordered. He took it to the post office and said he wanted it returned.
“Is this you?” the clerk asked, pointing to his name.
“No, the guy died,” Don said. “Put a Deceased stamp on it and send it back.”
The inspiration came to him while he was down for a week with the flu. For a time he felt as if he weren’t kidding. So far no reaction.
SPEAKING OF the flu, as who isn’t, a man named Mike tells of his lowest moment while home in bed with it.
He burned with fever, he chattered with chills, he coughed like Camille in her death agony. Fascinated by these histrionics, his dog, a semi-dachshund called FN (for Fat Nose), jumped on the bed and peered intently at him with wrinkled brow.
At this point, Mike’s wife, Ruby, came in. Did she ask how he felt, if he were still weak, what his temperature was? Nope. She yelled at FN, “Get off that bed! Do you want to get distemper?”
FILL IN NAME
The delegate was charming,
World peace was his intent.
His manner was disarming,
But not his government.
ONLY IN L.A. -- Four odd looking metal boxes with file cabinet-type drawers, unidentified on the invoice, were received with a shipment of other stuff at a chain drugstore and a lady clerk, presumably with a shrug, put them out for sale, pricing them at $1.95 each. They were quickly snapped up by customers. She has just learned they were to be used to dispense blue chip trading stamps.
FOR HIS ROLE in “Walk Like a Dragon,” a tale of early California, James Shigeta, born in Hawaii of Japanese ancestry, has had to learn Chinese and he is being coached by actor Benson Fong.
The other day Shigeta said he was having difficulty with the language and Fong retorted, “Now you know how I felt, playing villainous Japanese fliers or soldiers in 25 or 30 pictures and always getting shot down or killed.”
Incidentally, the boys at Paramount are calling the movie a “Chinese western” and Shigeta tells friends he hopes to become the fastest gun in the east.
PUBLIC AT LARGE -- As if it isn’t tough enough to pick a winner at the race track, a jockey told writer Martin Mooney in a barbershop that 11 horses in Santa Anita wear contact lenses because of eye defects or to prevent them from veering out . . . Anyone else besides Hatton-Hulett catch up with the fact that the Hilton hotel clan is in back of both the credit card outfit Carte Blanche and the pro football L.A. Chargers?
AT RANDOM -- A telephone caller asked for the extension number of Among Ourselves, this paper’s employee publication, and the busy switchboard operator, to verify, asked, “Are you calling Among Ourselves?” “No,” was the reply, “I’m calling from outside.” Happens all the time . . . Expediency note: A long black old Cadillac hearse on Manchester Ave. near Playa del Rey, Jack Tobin reports, had six paddleboards and three youths inside, three other youths in the driver’s seat . . . A new book by Cyril Pearl is titled “The Girl With the Swansdown Seat.” All about Catherine Walter, a naughty lady known as “Skittles” who consorted with royalty in Victorian England. Swansdown Seat? . . . Teenagers’ definition of a spinster -- a female disc jockey.