Monday, Jun. 09, 1958
Names make news. Last week these names made this news:
Tricked up in his party duds, Tennessee's Senator Estes Kefauver helped raise a few ($3,000) dollars at a Democratic fund-raising party with some hokumy sleight of hand, included in his act a cautious display of rope twirling. Also in the spirit of things was leggy Maurine Neuberger, wife of Oregon's junior Senator Richard Neuberger, who for the party's fashion show slithered out on stage in a figure-hugging one-piece bathing suit, with companion checked beach coat.
Waxing rhapsodic at a farewell party for retiring Cabinet Secretary Maxwell Rabb, Presidential Hopeful Senator John Kennedy managed to add his own "po'r li'l me" touch: "Max has done a magnificent job for the underprivileged, for the little man, for the minority group. The only underprivileged man he's forgotten is me. I could use some help around the White House. I've never gotten any." For another Rabb wellwisher, Democrat Kennedy's toast was just too much. "Jack," exploded New Jersey Republican Clifford Case, "I've been around Washington a few years now, and if there's one guy that isn't underprivileged, it's you. That's the worst joke I've heard in a long time, and I wish to God I were just as underprivileged as you are."
Milwaukee-born Actor Alfred Lunt, 64, proud holder of a diploma from Paris' Cordon Bleu cooking school, discussed his newly acquired souffle secrets with the New York Times: "Egg whites are beaten by hand with a wire whisk or not at all. You beat and beat. Of course, you may drop dead in the end, but no matter. I don't understand why American cookbooks state 'beat until stiff but still moist.' That's nonsense. We beat the daylights out of them and turn out the finest souffles you've ever tasted."
Three weeks after his release from a Washington mental hospital, mad old Poet Ezra Pound formally applied for a U.S. passport to go to Italy, where he will live with his daughter, stated that he would also like to visit Spain, France, Britain and Switzerland. State Department reaction: Ezra may go.
Book Publisher (Random House) and TV Paneluminary (What's My Line?) Bennett Cerf gave a group of Arizona businessmen the line on the modern novel: "There have been too many in which some young man is looking forward, backward or sideways in anger. Or in which some Southern youth is being chased through the magnolia bushes by his aunt. She catches him on page 28 with horrid results."
Still remembered as the most ballyhooed babies of the century, the four surviving Dionne quintuplets--Marie, Annette, Cecile and Yvonne--gathered at Marie's Montreal apartment to celebrate their 24th birthday, let word slip out that Cecile, married to TV Technician Philippe Langlois, and Annette, wife of Finance Company Agent Germain Allard, expect babies within four months. Both girls allowed they wanted lots of children but no quints: "Too much publicity."
As chipper as a schoolboy in June, India's Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru seemed up to his jodhpurs in glee on his first real vacation in twelve years. Accompanied by daughter Indira, Nehru loped off to a government guest house in the Himalayas for ten days of loafing, riding and sunbathing. Between jeep rides to local bazaars, Nehru finally got around to the job of editing letters between him, Mahatma Gandhi, George Bernard Shaw and Bengali Poet Rabindranath Tagore, discovered that white ants had long since eaten choice parts of the moldy papers.
Reacting to an unkind review of his movie Touch of Evil in Britain's New Statesman, corpulent Cinemagician Orson Welles let fly with a frustrated bleat in self-defense. Although he is listed as Touch of Evil's writer and director, wrote Welles, the picture's flaws are not all his: the film appeared after "wholesale re-editing by the executive producer, a process of rehashing in which I was forbidden to participate. Confusion was further confounded by several added scenes which I did not write and was not invited to direct."
Down the steps of St. Vincent's Church in Lisbon walked faded, sixtyish Elena (Magda) Lupescu, longtime mistress and later wife of Rumania's late ex-King Carol, who lies buried in the church's pantheon. A widow since 1953, blonde, green-eyed Magda was Carol's faithful companion in palace and in exile for more than 30 years, now lives quietly at the villa they once shared in nearby Estoril, avidly plays canasta with a small circle of friends.
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