Friday, Dec. 15, 1967

For depriving him of that luxuriant handlebar mustache, the Air Force clearly owed Colonel Robin Olds, 45, a favor. But four stars? Yet there they were, stuck to his chair when he arrived at the Air Force Academy to take over as commandant of cadetsput there, it turned out, to represent the four Communist MIGs Robin had shot down over Viet Nam. As for that other fighter pilot's badge--the one the brass told him to polish off with a razor because cadets can't wear them --he may not have been the only one inconvenienced. Reported Olds: "I've heard a rumor the cadets had got hold of 3,000 false mustaches."

He dashed off to join the Marines as a private at 18, saw a lot of China before mustering out as a first lieutenant in 1946 and used to relax by racing sports cars. Is that the profile of a chairman of the National Association of Manufacturers? Well, in the case of Daniel Parker, grandson of Parker Pen Co.'s founder, there were lots of other credentials--like a Harvard Business School diploma ('49), directorships of four companies, and 17 years spent working at Parker, the last seven as chairman, during which time sales increased 33%. So when the N.A.M. needed a new chairman of its own last week, Parker sounded like just the man --and at 42. he becomes the youngest ever to hold the post.

What better outfit to pick for a meeting with Charles de Gaulle than a snappy little soldier suit, complete with gold-braided lapels and epaulets? And that's just what Actress Brigitte Bardot, 33, stepped into for a show folk get-together at the Elysee Palace. Le General was smitten. "We are enchanted to see you--enchanted is the word," saluted France's President. "I liked Viva Maria very much." "But you saw it?" ventured a flustered BB. "Yes, on television," replied BB's newest home-screen fan.

Give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile, runs the old standpatter against liberalizing practically anything. Witness Britain's venerable Oxford Union, an all-male preserve for 142 years until it banned de sexo segregation in 1963. Just four years later, the university debating society has elected a girl president. She is pert, brunette Seraldine Jones, 21, daughter of a Liverpool schoolmaster and now heiress to an office once held by William Gladstone, Herbert Asquith and Ted Heath. There'll be no nonsense about a counterattack either. "I trust that men who find my presence in the union disturbing," said Geraldine, "will stay away."

When he finally hung up his spikes in 1963 after 22 wonderful years with the St. Louis Cardinals, Stan Musial, 47, explained that he wanted to "go out while still an asset." That's certainly how Stan the Man wound up his first season as general manager of his old ball club, helping the Cards climb from the National League's second division to a World Series victory over the Boston Red Sox. Now Stan is stepping down again. He has to devote full time to his restaurant and hotel business since the death of his partner. Taking over will be New York Mets President Bing Devine, 50, who thereby jumps from head of the league's worst team to boss of its best. Not that Bing doesn't deserve his material--he hired most of the Cards' current starters prior to getting fired as their G.M. in 1964, just before they won their last pennant.

For a beauty who inspired 24-carat tributes in life, Marilyn Monroe seems to have elicited little more than tencent souvenirs in five years as a memory. At least that was the gist of a "Homage to Marilyn" art show at Manhattan's Sidney Janis Gallery. Of 50 works by 36 artists, by far the better half, from de Kooning, Rosenquist and Warhol, among others, predated her death in 1962. The recent works were second-rate or worse, with the booby prize going to Salvador Dali for a ten-foot mobile, obviously whomped up for the occasion, that features a pair of Esso Tiger flags dangling beneath a photomontage of the faces of Marilyn and Mao Tse-tung. The idea seems to be that sex kittens and paper tigers are really siblings under the skin.

Of all the captains to pace a fo'c'sle, practically everyone's No. 1 dirty sea dog is William Bligh, commander of H.M.S. Bounty until he and 18 crewmen were left tossing in a dinghy by Mutineer Fletcher Christian in 1789.

Now comes British Naval Historian Christopher Lloyd to testify in the captain's defense. Bligh, he said on the 150th anniversary of the captain's death, possessed "resolution, courage, professional skill and a high standard of moral rectitude." Not only did Bligh pull off quite a feat by rescuing himself; he also went on to a brilliant naval career that won him a battle commendation from Admiral Lord Nelson. To be sure, admitted Lloyd, the good Bligh had trouble "understanding the feelings of other people," but that merely reflected "an unfortunate personality," which is probably what Fletcher Christian meant to say all along.

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