The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-10-17

# sss$ 8 u 6 n ter or
 temporary for
 getfulness.
 heard an
 o u t-of-towner tonight complaining bitterly about the Yankees. If they continue to win so blandly every year, he protested, they'll put the national sport out of business. The fans in his home town feel the balance of baseball power is altogether awry and threaten to stay away from the ball games hereafter. It sounds silly Then why not ban ish the invincible Joe Louis for the same reason?
 STEINBECK FLEES
 THE SPOTLIGHT
 John Steinbeck, whose book Grapes of Wrath" is a best seller, glimpsed New York's night life several hours back. He went stealthily, for he is reticent and self -effacing fellow away from his books. He clipped his moustache few nights ago, so he wouldn't be recognized too easily from his picture But in vain.
 One of the entertainers blurted his name out loudly after the first few minutes. And he fled.
 In the Savoy-Plaza Lounge, Katharine Hepburn burst in with new kind of fashionable attire; country slacks, rustic waist and mink coat! If she were any other gal, I'd put it down to os- tentation.
 But this Hepburn lass doesn't care if anyone notices or minds.
 Tallulah Bankhead is less tur- bulent than ever these evenings. Maybe the end of the baseball season has toned her down. For a while back there, she was the most vcciferous Giant rooter that team ever had. The Giant catch CT, Harry Danning, provided her with a box at the Polo Grounds and she almost tore the diamond down every time her Giants hit, scored or made put-out.
 WHEN FOOTLIGHTS
 HAVE FADED
 Tonight I saw one of the most touching movies of my film going days. A French film, End of a Day." it is about the old &C., tors and actresses who wind up in the home for the aged and pass their last year in nostalgia recol- lection of their more glamorouS days. Someone should have writ ten a play about it long ago around here. About the Actors Fund home in Englewood, N. J., where some of the most beloved stars of yesteryear finish their lives in tranquility.
 Also I made a discovery tonight: the prettiest usherette in town, on the balcony floor of the Fil- marte, blonde, diminutive, dim- pied and with wonderful smile. Two film scout friends have prom ised to go and have a look.
 If there is a heartier septua- genarian in Manhattan than old William A. Brady, I haven't heard of him. Bill Brady in his seven- ties SCOUTS plays and produces them, writes profuse letters to congressman protesting this or that, manages an office, clings to his half dozen cigars a day, de- clines to forgo his daily nip, dis courses on most subjects with flowing eloquence, refuses to set- tie down and become greybeard.
 On Broadway he is known as the dean of active showmen. saw him stride. ty-eight Street tonight with the gait of a youth of twenty.
 MARKHAM
 INCOGNITO
 Groucho Marx was around the Tavern. Without the comic mous- tache and cigar, you'd never rec ognize him. Nor his brother, Harpo, without the carrot-colored, curly wig.
 And out of his comic element. Groucho is a gent of serious mien who'd rather talk politics than an acutely funny gag. I liked Ned Sparks definition of movie ac- tor tonight: a straight man for a set of dishes.
 Among the wag at the Versailles who suggested that now Joe Stalin has signed up with Adolf, the fel- low-travellers around here have revised their slogan: from Comes the Revolution" to Comes the Revelation"
 Why doesn't someone bring Helen Morgan back, place her on a piano perch, hand her a lacy handkerchief and have her sing those fearful dirges from Show Boat" that she can do better than anyone else?
 Occasionally, I get a missive from that sentimental lady who runs a goat farm-yes, said a goat farm-in outer Brooklyn. But she says nothing about re- turning to the nocturnal whirli- gig. Some day, when Helen wants to talk. she will be able to tell a startling story of those brash Ziegfeldian days of which she was the most courtly queen.