Word: hotcha
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...began feeling allegro giocoso. President Edwin R. Weeks of the Music Merchants blithely buried the Jazz Age, declaring that "dreamy, tuneful melodies" are now the thing. President Robert A. Schmitt of the Sheet Music Dealers said: "People are singing again in family music groups. They have kicked out the 'Hotcha man.' They are playing the piano instead of the phonograph...
...play, by Kaufman and Ryskind is a beautiful piece of satire on the RFC and the men who run it. Of the two professors who come to investigate Benny, his partner, and their staff of six hotcha girls who run the Black Creek Railroad, one is a professor of anthropology at Columbia, and the other of Hebraic Languages at Harvard. These trusted scholars are delightfully duped by Benny and friends until they are accosted by a man who says that he is an agent for the Department of Justice, whereupon one of the chorus girls pipes up "What's Justice...
...Some kick this way, some wave feebly in that, and others seem present in body only -- they simply stand there. Of the artists who disrobed at intervals in the program, perhaps the most alluring was Miss Joan Dare, but other members of the audience loudly held that Miss Nora (Hotcha) Ford outstripped them all. As for their vocal efforts at popular songs, one must confess that while those heard were sweet, those unheard were sweeter...
...hotcha, how ya doin, hey hey," that the college boys want from the dance orchestra today. Rhythm, rhythm, rhythm, and more rhythm that is the spirit of the musical age. The day of the "Peanut Vender," and "Yes, We Have No Bananas," is over. 'The Big Bad Wolf," "Mine," and "Heat Wave" -- they're the kind of songs people like now. Cab Calloway and Duke Ellington have ushered in a new era of popular music...
...scenes of her success in New York, shows in the latter part of the picture, provide more opportunities for the exercise of her crooning ability, and less for the exhibition of her bulk. One shot that should be preserved for posterity is the view of our behemoth hotcha mamma writhing in the contortions of a tap-dance...