There must have been a gap of at least ten seconds between Pediatrician Dr. Benjamin M. Specie's announcement of his possible presidential candidacy and the beginning of the jokes--like how he would turn the Pentagon into the Triangle and replace the rifle with the burp gun. Increasingly active as a speaker and marcher against U.S. involvement in Viet Nam, and co-chairman of the National Committee for a Sane Nuclear Policy, the Great Pacifier told a press conference in Washington that SANE in 1968 "will energetically support" an antiwar candidate, even if he has to run himself. Meanwhile out in California, the jokesters proposed On the Good Ship Lollipop as a campaign song for Shirley Temple, now Mrs. Charles Black, 39, wife of a San Francisco businessman and a dabbler in Republican politics, who announced that she will probably file for the congressional seat held by the late Republican J. Arthur Younger.

Choreographer Herbert Ross yelled "Go, go!" and off she went--about 30 yds. along Manhattan's Pier 36, lurching like a sozzled sailor under the encumbrance of an ankle-length wool dress, high heels, a suitcase and makeup kit. It was one more rollicking day in the life of Barbra Streisand, movie star, and at that point the 25-year-old singer had staggered for an hour through the same one-minute scene in Funny Girl without getting it right. "My back hurts; my feet hurt!" yelled Streisand from her perch on a tugboat. "Now, now," consoled Producer Ray Stark. "You're young and healthy and strong." "What do you mean?" wailed Barbra. "I'm a working mother."

His rhetoric consisted mostly of the repeated word "tremendous" as he watched 18 million gallons of water a minute cascading over Labrador's remote 245-ft. Churchill Falls. But everything else about Winston Spencer Churchill, 26, was suitably dashing as he donned construction helmet and oilskins for the ground breaking of the $800 million, 4,500,000-kw. Churchill Falls hydroelectric project, named for his grandfather. Ceremony over, young Winston flew back to London to resume work on another, more typically Churchillian project--a book with his father Randolph about the Israeli-Arab conflict, entitled The Six Day War.

It certainly wasn't the first big fish that Corrine Huff, 26, ever caught, but it was the first blue marlin to fall for her hook, line and sinker. The former Ohio beauty queen, now chief secretary and consoler of Harlem's self-exiled Congressman, Adam Clayton Powell, entered the annual blue-marlin tournament in Bimini, first day out aboard Adam's Fancy made all the muscular males seasick by delicately hauling in a huge, 459-lb. blue. That was enough to win Corrine the tourney right there, but to make everyone more jealous she boated a 473-pounder two days later. Adam himself stayed out of the tournament, explained Sponsor Roland McCann, "so she would have the best chance of winning."

What ever happened to those two old chairs--one a Victorian rocker, one a stuffed armchair--that belonged to Glassboro State College President Dr. Thomas Robinson, 62, and were made famous by being sat upon by Lyndon Johnson and Aleksei Kosygin during the Glassboro summit conference? Robinson stood silent on the momentous matter, but the office of New Jersey Governor Richard J. Hughes disclosed that they had been shipped to Washington, along with an equally historic end table, as a gift for L.B.J. What then? "It's all a great big fat puzzle to me," said a Smithsonian man, as did a State Department man. Finally, White House Press Secretary George Christian spoke up: "The chairs are in storage, I guess."

"Princes are like to heavenly bodies," Sir Francis Bacon once wrote, but who would ever think that the Earl of Snowdon would take him so literally. There was intrepid Tony, 37, hanging onto a 15-ft. by 12-ft. yellow kite and soaring 70 ft. over the surface of Bedfont Lake in Middlesex. Already an expert water skier, Lord Snowdon managed the tricky take-off on his first try, stayed aloft for ten gusty minutes. There was no word on when Princess Margaret would attempt a flyin, but Tony had their five-year-old son on water skis the next day, recommended the added kicks of kiting "to anyone who likes to live a little."

"Her torso must be well-formed, with the bustline not accentuated," read the criteria for the Miss Universe contest. Not pausing to quibble over semantics, the judges in Miami Beach looked over 56 nicely accentuated young ladies and selected the reigning Miss U.S.A., Sylvia Hitchcock, 21, to be the next Miss Universe. A Miami poultry farmer's daughter and an art major at the University of Alabama, the new queen plans to go into teaching if her head isn't turned by $31,000 in baubles and the lure of Hollywood.

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