Sbturday, February 11, 1939. T RE !M i G 11 G.AN DA 1 LY Pace Seven Sdturddy, February 11, 939 THE MICI-IIGAN DAILY Priis~ Seven t MICHIGAN DAIL( J-HOP STAFF ManagingEditor . . ..Robert D. Mitchel City Editor ........ Horace W. Gilmore Editorial Director ...... Albert P. Mayio J-Hop Editor ............. Joseph Gies Assistant.............Earl R. Gilman Supporting Cast: Morton Linder, Carl Petersen, Marian Ferguson, Mary Ellen Spurgeln, Helen Coman, Roy Heath, Pete Lisagor, Robert I. Fitzhenry, Ad- rienne Rauchwerger, Morton Jamlpel, Harry Keisey', Jay McCormick and one or two others. Business Manager .. Philip W. Buchen Credit Manager .. Leonard .iegehnap Advertising Manager . William Newnan J-Hop Issue Bsiness Manager ...... Paul R. Park Local Advertising Manager ............ Irving Guttman Service Masager ...... James Nielion Classified Advertising Manager.......... Thomas Heenahan Publications Manager ... Jack Coney Circulation Manager .. Robert Gilinour Accounts Manager ..... Donald Rtichey Promotion Manager .... Volney Morin National Advertising' Manager..............Julius Aiiner Women's. Business Manager .. Zenovia Skoratko Womre's Advertising Manager Constance Bryant ASSISTANTS: Patricia Mathews; Jane Mowers, Robert Wagner, Robert Frie- tag, Jane Krause, Harry Kirby, Harvey Willens. A Great Big J-Hop To You To the class of 1946 the Daily ex- tends its heartiest wishes for an en- joyable J-Hop weekend and a hangover that won't prevent class attendance for more than the first half of next week. The J-Hop, as everyone knows, orig- inated in 1862 when the junior class, about to leave for the Civil War, de- cided to have a little fun first. The main reason that the junior class had continued the custom since then is that all college students think they ought to have at least one big weekend before graduating. The advantag of having the big blow-off in the junior year is that it takes two years of college to get properly prepared for such an event, and if the thing is postponed till the senior year the class has thinned out pretty badly. Anyway, a merry J-Hop to all, and to all a good-night. Our Blushing, Color Scheme The color in which this edition is printed is sure to attract some atten- tion so we affix this as an explanatory note. We had our choice of pink, sky-blue, turquoise, emerald green or old gold. We picked pink because we thought it would look nice. The choice has absolutely nothing to do with the Daily's alleged radical proclivities or with the sunsets in Platte. PROBABLE Some astute entomologist recently came to the conclusion that a jitterbug is not an insect but a human being try- ing to act like one. You ofM By Sec Terry THE "L" SLOWED DOWN as it pulled into the 63rd street station. Four young fellows, reeking of pomade and Kresge talcum, stood on the moving platform, glancing at their watches and pleading with the conductor to open the gates so they might get a running start against the milling mob.'When finally the "L" had lurched to a stop and the conductor had spitefully taken his time to open the gates, the quartet plunged into the waiting crowd, bowl- ing over a lady carrying a baby, upset- ting a pert young thing in an orange organdie formal that swept up cigarette butts and sputum in its wake, and driv- ing a portly burgher against the rail- ing. Down the stairs they darted, shouting now: "Two minutes, men! Let's turn it on!" Through the Sabbath eve crowd on 63rd they plowed, through the shuf- fling throng, sidestepping like bare- feet in a pasture, pushing by wayward obstacles, and on at least two occa- sions doing inestimable damage to maidenly dgnities. A large neon sign halfway down the block blinked its in- vitation: "DANCING," and another glance at the clock revealed the time as 8:29. "A minute to go, men!" A stream of patent apologies, accompanied by the chipped curses of frustrated men, followed this last leg of a memorable flight, As the boys reached the blazing marquee and flung open the ornate doors, the clock in the ticket window slipped over to 8:30. Slapping down fouf quaters on the marble ledge sim- ultaneously, the quartet watched the lady punch out four tickets and then' reach up to change the adiission sign. As she displaced the two-bit sign with' one reading 65c, the boys looked at one another, sighed audibly and went in. Now they could buy some broad a beer. It was young Terry's first ballroom foray, an event, mind you, of no small significance in the light of subsequent happenings. For that initial experience, like the first pinch of snow to a hop- head, left its mark on the youth. The swirling lights, vari-colored and subtle; the mingled odors of sachet, violet, rose, and sweat; the sloe-eyed, wide-eyed, leery-eyed, bleary-eyed dollies, tall and skinny, short and fat, pallid and florid; formal dresses of violent hues, hanging formlessly, like gunny sacks full of cot- ton; the sailors and tough guys, with their collars open; the orchestra and its smiling leader, whose wife, an underfed jane in red gown, sings such tunes as "The Birth of the Blues," "'Way Down Younder in New Orleans," "After You're Gone," and "Paradise"-all those things enveloped young Terry and made of hin a ballroom addict. He learned the Lindy Hop at the Sasino Moderne, the Shag at Pershing's, the Susie-Q at White City, Truckin' at the Savoy; and then he heard about the smart Lambeth Walk, he shaved, in- stead of undergoing the customary ritu- al of merely covering the short stubbles of beard with powder, and went ap- prehensively to the Aragon-where he picked up the rudiments of the Lam- beth Walk from a little bundle of fun named Sadella, who lived in Humboldt Park and chewed blackjack gum, and thought he was cute, and would he buy her a Tom Collins. And she liked Jan Garber. That was enough to send Terry back to the cheaper dives, convinced that the broads in the "smarter" joints were on a husband hunt. Then Terry came to college, equipped with every dance and its variation in the catalogue. He had a sm art line of chatter, as lines in the big town go, and he could spot a wet blanket after one dance. He visualized, with a delight bordering on "hallucinatory hysteria," the elevating partners he could choose, broads who could converse about every- thing from Freud to Father Coughlin The FLYING TRAPEZE By Roy Heath Don't think that just because I am a shattered old derelict, sitting back in the corner with dark glasses and butter- milk, that I do not know anything about J-Hops. I am sitting back in the corner to keep people from stepping on my corns. I am wearing the glasses to ease my eyes and drinking buttermilk to placate a number of boils which I have on the bottom of my stomach. If you want to know how I came to my present condition, it is from going to J-Hops I have a whole room full of J-Hop souvenirs which resembles a mu- seum of the first World War. There are three teeth mounted on a piece of shin bone, four old J-Hop group pictures in which I figure prominently because I was asleep on the floor, and a black- jack which I used to use for retrieving my plug hat, to name only a few of the objects which I salvaged from the fray. To say I don't know anything about J-Hops is like saying that Max Schmel- ing doesn't know aything about Joe Louis. In fact that is a very fitting com- parison. I have written several books on the topic and if you have never read them you probably aren't the worse for it, My masterpiece was "Fifteen For- matiofs For Rushing The 'Bandstand" or"What To Do Till The Doctor Comes." J-Hop, as Caeser always used to say about Gaul, is divided into three parts. (Omnia J-Hopia in tres partes divisa esat. The divisions of the Hop cam- paign are: Preparation, Participation and Recuperation. The success or fail- ure of the whole undertaking depends on the first division. In fact, if the first or Preparation stage is handled prop- erly, it will be unnecessary to deal with the Participation. Recuperation will be- come the following step and you won't even need to worry your aching head about the Hop proper. However, we will take the three up in their logical order. In Prcaratiois you first arrange for the party of the sec- ond part or the date. You call up the and back to Freud again, brightening the dance with carefully chosen bon mots, gagging him with wit. Terry bought a new razor, and a styptic pencil so he wouldn't have to paste tissue paper on every cut. Cheek to cheek with a learned doll was a privilege granted only to a chosen few, and he didn't want to muff the opportunity. But as it must to all men, disillusion- ment came to young Terry. Stags were persona non grata at the Union dances, at the League, at the special brawls promoted on the campus, and Terry was hanged if he'd take a broad to a dance. That's where guys went to meet 'em, not take 'em. He grew up in the school that made an art of analyzing each girl as they glided along, deducting whether she worked in a law office downtown or poured molasses in a trough in the sugar factory or slung hash in Thompson's, wangling her name, likes, dislikes, etc. There was a fatal fascination about it all. Let others meet the broad first, he'd wait. And wait he did, until he heard about the Moose and Armory. Terry frequented the place so often he was presumed to have come with the lease. He got so he could call every town gal in town by her first name, and inquire after her old man's health. His resistance to dating for a dance remained as ever unyielding, un- compromising. At last reports Terry was doing all right for himself. And he expects to go to the J-Hop-Saturday morning. He's got a job cleaning up the joint. He'll be a little tired, maybe, when he gets to work that morning. Depends on what time he gets home from the Armory Friday night. girl you would take if you could and then forget about her. Make arrange- ments with the one you know you are going to take. This procedure will leave you with two dates but the problem will take care of itself in due time. After you -have acquired a partner for the coming Armageddon a ticket is the next consideration. The simple manner in which to handle the ticket Is not to get one or else forge one. Buying one is out of the question. The day before the Hop, hock every- thing you own, C'mon . . . cough up that watch. Don't kid yourself, it will cost just double what you think it Will. On the night of the battle you should prepare a sort of a pick-me-up tosip when the going gets rough, It consists of six parts Scotch, one part pure alco- hol, three parts extract of Tiger blood and four parts iron pyrites. That makes fourteen parts. If you want it a little stronger add parts to taste. When you have been properly rein- forced by Heath's special J-Hop mix- ture, you start out for the I-M building. That should be in the neighborhood of 12 o'clock. Rugged individuals have been known to come at 11 but there is no point in it. At the I-M where Continued on Page s) The wild and by now moth-eaten West furnishes the theme for unlimited Hollywood variations which the local theatres offer this week-end. Step right up and see the latest hoss operas. Years ago, the moving picture producers went in for a certain amount of realism. Today with increased facilities in trans- portation and communication, the hero need only have a fair amount of good looks and Sam Goldwyn for producer and he is set. If you happen to walk-in late for The Cowboy and the Lady the plot will not hinder the enjoyment of this little opus. As any regular movie-goer can deduce from the title, the story (for lack of a better word which can be printed) is about the cowboy and the lady. Yes, the lady is rich, yes, the cowboy falls in love with her, yes he doesn't know that she is rich, yes they part and come together, yes they live happily ever after. Yes, yes, yes. If Gary Cooper expects to graduate into smart sophisti- cated comedies his best bet is to play in a few more pictures like the Cowboy. Fro mthe seat on the aisle, his chances look more than favorable. The Cowboy and his lady are displayed daily from Saturday at the Majestic. Jesse James-Ferdinand De-Lesseps -Lloyds of London-Tyrone Power snarls and struts his way, through this rip-roaring picture which incidentally has some redeeming feature; the lead- ing lady, Nancy Kelly, has looks and charm and can act, the technicolor is used effectively and there is a particu- larly good scene when Jesse robs his first train. As one of the local wits suggested, "if only Jesse had died in the first 30 or 40 minutes, it would have been a good picture." To this I re- luctantly agree but sugges that the time be cut down to 15 minutes with time out for smoking. The big campaign to build up Robert Taylor as a he-man is an overwhelming success as far as your corerspondent is concerned. I dare anyone to disparage Mr. Taylor's ability to hold his own in fisticuffs. If he can take on Barton Maclane, Chalres Bickford and Wallace Beery, I'm convinced and will put my money on the Taylor kid any day. You can have fun guessing the cliches in this picture too Stand Up And Fight so your correspondent regretfully leaves the plot to you and sorrowfully takes leave as the sun sets in the Pacific and Atantic oceans (colossal idea straight from Sam himself). - Adrienne.