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Show Q' about: Species of Candidates. SANTA MONICA, CALIF. It takes all kinds of candidates candi-dates to make up this world. Maybe that's why the world seems so overcrowded. There's the candidate who belongs to all the secret orders; if he left off his emblems, he'd catch cold; knows every grand hailing sign there is; hasn't missed a lodge brother's funeral fu-neral in years; can hardly wait for the next one to die. No campaign complete without him. Candidate specializing special-izing in the hearty j-J.,.a. aitV Jl handshake, the neck- irvin g. Cobb embrace, the shoulder-slap, the bear-hug, the gift of remembering every voter by his first name, and the affectionate inquiry regarding the wife and kiddies. When he kisses a baby, it sounds like somebody taking off a pair of wet overshoes. Usually has a weath-erbeaten weath-erbeaten wife needing a new hat. Strutty candidate who's constantly leading an imaginary parade of 50,000 faithful followers. Loves to poke his -chest away out and then follows it majestically down the street. A common or standardized species. Biblical Wisdom. IN THE Book of Nahum, Chapter II, I came .upon this verse: "The chariots shall rage in the streets, they shall jostle one against another in the broad ways; they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings." Those Old Testament prophets certainly peered a long way into the future. Because I traveled by night through a' main thoroughfare leading from Los Angeles to the sea and vice versa, and I knew what Nahum was describing. But not even an inspired seer of the Bible could imagine a record of traffic mortality so ghastly as the one we've already compiled in this year of grace 1937 A. D. (automobile (automo-bile destruction) or a people so speed-mad. How to Fight Japs. WHENEVER we have a Japanese Jap-anese war scare, I think of Uncle Lum Whittemore, back in west Kentucky, who loved to dispense dis-pense wisdom as he hitched one practiced instep on a brass rail and with his free hand fought the resident resi-dent flies for the tidbit of free lunch which he held in his grip. One day a fellow asked Uncle Lum, who had served gallantly in the Southern Confederacy until a very hard rainstorm came up, what he'd do if the yellow peril boys invaded in-vaded America. "I'd hunt me a hollow tree in the deep woods," he said. "Yes, son, the owls would have to fetch me my mail. I been readin' up on them Japs. They're fatalists." "What's a fatalist?" demanded someone. "Near ez I kin make out," stated the veteran, "a fatalist is a party that thinks you're doin' him a deep pussonal favor when you kill him." Hollywood Fashions. SOME envious style expert says Hollywood fashions are too garish. gar-ish. If he's talking about Hollywood males, I say . they're just garish enough. If they were any more garish than they are, visitors would have to wear blinders, and if they were any less garish, Italian sunsets would stand a chance in the competition. com-petition. And I want the championship champion-ship to stay in America. Billy Gaxton picks out something suitable for a vest to be worn to a fancy dress party and then has a whole suit made out of it. Bob Montgomery's ties are the kind that I buy in moments of weakness and then keep in a bureau drawer because be-cause I'm not so brave as Bob is; and also I keep the drawer closed because I can't stand those sudden dazzling glares. And Bing Crosby is either color-blind or thinks everybody every-body else is. But his crooning is mighty soothing. And so it goes-red, goes-red, pink, green, purple, orange, sky-blue and here and there a dash of lavender. Our local boys gladden the landscape land-scape with the sort of clothes I'd wear, too only my wife won't let me. Stop, look, listen! That's our sartorial motto, and these jealous designers back east can kindly go jump in a dye-pot. IRVIN S. COBtf. WNU Service. |