Word: dots
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...supper in a hotel scullery. The hero (Robert Cummings) is a famous songwriter-a fiction scarcely supported by the songs attributed to him-who is staying at the hotel. Doris is soon pleasantly crooning "I'm in love" to a silver-lame willow while mechanical stars dot the screen like light bulbs shining through an I.B.M. card; and instead of a slipper, her Prince Charming offers her a Broadway part...
Connie on the Dot. The airlines are keeping a close watch on competitors' performance. T.W.A., which already has one nonstop eastbound run in its Constellations, sniffs that American's schedules are just paper performance. Eastbound, says T.W.A., the new planes are late 40% of the time. Westbound, the DC-7s do even worse, take up to twelve hours, because of headwinds. Temporarily, American has been getting exemptions from the CAA rule against flight crews staying on the job for longer than eight hours at a stretch. But last week CAA itself was checking arrival times...
Perhaps the only thing more amusing than the Thurber approach to humor is the Thurber approach to cartooning. The inevitable fearsome women and lugubrious dogs dot the pages of the book, lending an added not of whimsy to the text. But even without the drawings, the author's trademark is hard to miss. Not necessarily orthodox, but almost always sophisticated, Thurber Country is the kind of Christmas gift you won't want to exchange...
Died. Francis Picabia, 75, wealthy, erratic French-born Cuban painter; of arteriosclerosis; in Paris. A bored, respectable success at 35, Picabia joined the madcap Dadaist revolt against tradition during the 20s, in 1950 enraged Paris critics with a deadpan display of canvases, each enlivened only by a colored dot placed just off center...
...iron will. For the first hours, that will is lightly tested, an occasional nodding daydream, a slight arm or leg cramp. Now & then he takes a swallow of water and keeps alert by checking his instruments and charts. But after nightfall, with The Spirit of St. Louis a dot over the Atlantic, fog closes in. Lindbergh looks for holes, climbs to 10,000 ft., goes down to 10 ft. above the vicious whitecaps. Sleet comes, ice edges the wings. For 1,000 miles he flies on his primitive instruments and battles the storm. After the storm comes another enemy...