Detroit evening times. (Detroit, Mich) 1921-1958, 1941-11-12

Nv MIRIAM r. BRANDON
HIS name was Joe Edmonds, an
- the only thing left from lon
years of trouping was the on
thing which defeated him. BecauS'
Of IL he couldn't get a job; n
couldn't enjoy human dignity--h'
couldn't even panhandle!
Maybe you remember his act
The slightly shuffling walk. th'
comic concentration on his foot
steps. the horror when he mistak
enly drinks a glass OF water.
Whisky Joe, ne was billed. anC
the customers roared as he went
through his routine. In day wheT
vaudeviIlians didn't have press
agents there was no way to pub
licize the fact that Joe never
touched the stuff.
He had nothing against the cur
that cheers-but his nightly escape
from reality via the grease paint
and footlights served the same
purpose as a couple OF quick ones
20 another man.
VAUDEVILLE DEAD
But vaudeville was dead. and
Joe Edmonds retained the alcoholic
appearance OF his job out of sheer
habit.
A horrible combination OF cir
curnstances. Certain physical fea-
lures helped. of course. The eyes,
having been burned in a backstage
accident, were peTeHHially red
trimmed and almost devoid of
lashes.
Above them the frowsy brows
were thin enough to give him a
quixzicai expression. Add to these
q distinctly sharp nose and a
peculiarly flexible mouth. and you
have the map Of drunkenness
spread out before you.
Nobody ever noticed that there
was no odor OF liquor on Joe Ed
monds, but nobody gave him job,
either.
He knew better than to haunt
the agents Offices. The word had
gone round that Edmonds was
hitting the stuff pretty regularly.
1t wasn't actually n whispering
campaign. for Joe wasn't suffi-
ciently important to bring that
down on his slim shoulders. 1t was
Just one Of those chance remarks
which circled around and grew un-
I'll IL would appear that his next
stop was the East River. night
court or 4 psychopathic ward.
Sometimes he'd work a benefit.
but not recently. Everybody seemed
to want show girls now. And
pssty-faced youths who could
whisper lyrics across tiny piano.
Gone were the old jugglers and the
hooters, the character men and the
tumblerS.
MAYBE" Joe suggested to one
of the newer agents, I'VE can
work up . routine for me to be
o waiter.-
The agent burped derisively.
Whats funny about thate
The waiters'n all DO cockeyed
out there"
This, too, was different to Joe.
Walters. in his day, got canned II
they drank on the job. This was
just as strange as the new type
of agent.
Gone the old round-faced, beady|
eyed man who could jam a cigar
i'm the corner of his mouth, let
couple of words dribble out of
the other corner, and get you a
good price for an act.
The old agent knew audience re-
action rather than show business.
He knew managers, and acts and
theaters and towns. He could say:
"The Biiou In Buffalo IL tough,
Joe. I'd change the routine q
little for the spot. I think you
oughta do 10 and 90 :"
He could tell you where you'd
20 overland where you'd die.
And you. knew you could always
come back for another schedule
of bookings.
TERRTYINGLY YOUNG
But the new agent. Joe shivered
TO think of them. They were for
the most part terrifyingly young.
They worked with charts. and muir
INJURED:
Now on July - I'm Camden.
you ran for IL minutes and got
no more than four laughs"
The spread hands, the slight
shrug, indicated that such goings
on were, obviously, impossible.
Il followed q dance team"
Joe would wall, and meet a blank
stare Of Misunderstanding. The
agent. with evident relief, would
turn 10 an all-girl band.
Once an Office boy gave him the
Bronx cheer as he walked out. He
| COAL ON CR DITI
/ . No red tape
q NJ