Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1940-11-17
II Short Story Complete in This Issue


Jerry WYATT sat on the edge of the table
and thought that the tag he had pinned
~ on his employer was very apt indeed -
The Mad Maestro of the Airwaves
He certainly looked the part. A pearlike
figure in a fawn-colored suit and
raspberry tinted shirt. His black
hair. gistening like asphalt on wet
night, fell madly over his white face.
His chubby fists, clenching and I'm
clenching in hurt and indignation,
buffeted the air above his head
You call yourself publicity
man! Listen, Wyatt, I'm speaking to
you frankly. If you are two
hundred week publicity man. then 4
my band should be playing in
creep joint instead of being the big e
gest thing in RADIO" One hand &
dropped and trembling forefnger
indicated folio OF papers scattered
across a'plum-oolored davenport.
you see that? That is the latest
survey of the listening habits of radio audi
ences. Do you know what it shows? 1t shows
that Max Winkewitz and his Let's Be Gay
program has slipped again. Now he is seventh
instead of fifth among the half-hom musical
shows. And you call yourself ="
"A publicity man and damned good one.
In fact one of the best in the business"
Jerry lit cigarette and blew the smoke in
his astonished employers face. MAX, you
give me pain. A big fat pain. When your
rating goes up. it s because of your art When
it drops, it's because your publicity is lousy.
That's been your line ever since you We been
on the air. 1t has driven three good men nuts
and one into motion picture publicity. Poor
Mike Handlon! saw him the other day. He
told me to tell you he hadn't forgotten his
promise to get you where he wants you.
"A drunken bum," the little maestro
asserted bitterly. Threats! What does Winke-
WITT care what jerk like that thinks" He
snapped his fingers oontemptuously.
Mikes smart dude, Jerry said musingly.
He was thirty and looked twenty. A head of
thick, unruly blond hair and pair of wide.
ingenious blue eyes suggested cherubic
freshman instead of big time space grabber.
The head cooked speculatively now. Did you
really fire him the day his baby was born,
Max? Just because he was at the hospital
when you wanted him?"
A spread of color Gept into the face of
genius. ''Me?" he began Indignantly, and then
his eyes caught the folio on the couch. Listen,
Wyatt, you think you're pretty cute, don't
you? We're not talking about buns or or
babies Only half hour the sponsor calls me
up He has seen the new ratings, too. And he
is not forgetting that in ten weeks my option
comes up for renewal So what happens if the
show keeps slipping?" His tortured eyes rolled
accusingly.
/ HE press agents long legs swung lazily
under the table, Trouble, he conceded with
grin.
And whose fault will that be-"
yours - and nature"
Me? Nature? Are you -"
''Nuts?" Wyatt shook his head. The smoke
from his cigarette drifted through shaft of
autumn sunshine that knitted the hotel parlor
For two years I've been telling you that your
band is in nut. I've been trying to get you to
spend more money for more and better musical
arrangements You're bucking trend You're
riding on your 1898 reputation and the nag is
winded Your routine needs needle -"
"A needle? 1t needs new publicity -"